#cw bereavement

[that-gay-jedi]

Oops. It's thinking about my friend who's been dead for a year and how all the abled people around her rushed to erase her life and how me and my bestie are practically the only people who still remember hours

[cutthroatkindness]

I have already lost my mother, father, last grandparent, my cousin, and countless beloved pets all before I even reach 27 and with that, sometimes I find myself wondering why we as humans even bother loving that of which will eventually die and be gone.

But the simple and hard truth is that it IS still better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Because yes, the pain never really lessens but neither does the love. The love never fades either, in fact, you might even find it only ever grows.

[wetcatspellcaster]

Hello! In the spirit of Rosalie Lore questions I have one as well. As long as it’s not spoilers, how do you see their relationship with Astarion when she’s significantly older — in her sixties, seventies, eighties and beyond?

hmmm, anon. I'm worried this one could potentially have consequences!

generally, I'm happy to have everyone imagine whatever future they want for the characters as I write them. I finish my fics at the point where I'm happy and the story feels complete to me, I'm honestly not particularly fussed about what's comes after. I also know a lot of people are having feelings about immortality vs. mortality in the case of Rosalie, and I'm more than happy for people to end their comfort reading in whatever way gives them most comfort! If you want a world where they're together forever, you go for it!

with that being said, I'm also happy to answer your question, I've just put it under the cut so if people want to resolve things the way they want them they have that option. don't like don't read!

for me, I genuinely don't see many timelines - except Pieces, where they have lost time to make up for and to mourn - where Rosalie isn't mortal. this is partly bc I didn't know tiefling age ranges, when I first wrote her - I'd misunderstood the source text, and thought they lived a lot longer than they did!! (to like 150-200 years). when I found out i was wrong, it did feel sad initially, but I found that I actually liked that feeling bc it mirrored something in my own experience, of thinking you have more time with a person than you end up having (insert gesture to personal life here. but alongside a gesture to shadowgast, my favourite critical role ship. i love immortal/mortal pairings actually, D&D is fucked up for putting humans in a world where others live for half a millenia).

so I imagine that, even in timelines where Astarion is cured of vampirism or True Resurrected, as an elf in his??? late 30s?? he outlives Rosalie by a long way. I think as Rosalie ages, they stay together but their relationship gradually becomes more platonic from her 60s/70s, the same way that most marriages that have lasted a really long time become more companionable, with romance and desire still there but intimacy being the primary factor. if sex is something Astarion wants (I fall differently on this issue every time I think about it) they potentially move to an Open Relationship in Rosalie's elderly life, but every other need I imagine is still fulfilled the way a relationship between two aging people is fulfilled. they can still be close, still live together, still have fun. and then, yes. Rosalie dies at some point.

I know that this is not something people like to imagine for their comfort characters, so I'm not going to force the issue! But it is my personal belief that even if any romanced!Tav dies - not just Rosalie - the impact that they have on Astarion's life going forward is probably astronomical and indelible. They have helped him, over a stretch of decades, build up the tools with which to enjoy and appreciate whatever life he makes for himself after them. He care about others, and can form connections with others, partly because of them. I imagine he goes on to have future relationships, and though none of them are the same ,they are had in the knowledge that she was the person that made them possible. That doesn't mean that all of the future partners are inferior to her, they're just different - and I think those partners are probably capable of appreciating and cherishing the memory of her along with him, because they know she helped shape the man they love, and they know it's partly because of her that he's even alive.

[latenightsimping]

And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God

Summary: The afterlife means many different things, for many different people. Religions, faiths and beliefs all wonder what happens when you pass on. For Eddie, it’s finally going home.

Pairing: Eddie Munson

Word count: 2,080

Warnings: V ANGSTY NEAR CRIED WHEN I WROTE THIS YOU’VE BEEN WARNED, angst to fluff, heavy themes of death, heavy themes of pain and sadness, has a bittersweet ending to it, mentions of bad fathers, themes of bullying, themes of depression, themes of bereavement. just a real bad time all ‘round but it’s good at the same time? idk read at your own risk okay

AN: Had a breakdown, started working on it, bon appetite. I’m fully on the camp of ‘Eddie’s still alive and the Duffer Brothers are being very fucking mean arseholes by making us wait for two years’ but I like to think what Eddie’s version of Heaven is. And I think it would be this. Because for me, it would be seeing my Dad again. Aight I’m gonna start crying again. Anyway, enjoy. Love y’all, make sure to give yourselves aftercare if you need it. Also, before I leave, the inspo for this bit of writing is Placebo’s ‘cover of Running Up that Hill because it makes me sob. 

Eddie always figured that dying would hurt. And he was right.

He could remember sharp teeth tearing into flesh, the sickening sounds of ripping and chewing barely audible over the sound of his screams. It was as if he had been dipped in hellfire; bathed in the flames and forced to stay conscious for it all.

He remembered the tenderness that fuelled Dustin’s careful movements as he was pulled into the young boy’s lap. Looking up and thinking Thank God. Thank God I’m not going to die alone. The small part of him that was still aflame felt guilt. Here he was, after seeing so many horrors, now having to watch someone die in his arms. Dustin was too young for all this. A child in a veteran’s uniform, battle scars where medals should have adorned him. He wanted to say so much to him. Tell him he was proud, and that he was so sorry for bowing out so soon, and there wouldn’t be an encore. But all he could manage to force from his lungs, choking on his own blood, were the most important things that he could think of through the haze.

“I didn't run away this time, right?”

I’m sorry that it had to end this way. But I would do it again, if it meant you were safe. Please, just tell me I did the right thing this time. Tell me that I didn’t die in vain. That Chrissy didn’t die in vain. Please tell me that I did the right thing for once in my life, please.

“You're gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

From the moment I first saw you in that Weird Al shirt, I knew I had to protect you from the worst this world had to offer. You were so scared, and I knew that feeling well. I didn’t want you bringing home bloody noses and crying yourself to sleep from the cruel words running through your mind on a loop, just like I did. But you’re going to have to do the same for others, okay? I know you can do it, Dustin. You’re so strong, and so kind. I just hope I helped you, that I did a good job protecting you.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson. I think it’s finally my year.”

For once in my life, I’m not a burnout that sells pot to make ends meet and can’t graduate. I saved people. I’m nothing like my old man, who would have turned tail the second shit went sideways. I did the right thing, for once in my fucking life. I can rest, knowing that. It’ll be okay.

“I love you, man.”

I love you. Thank you for staying with me, so I wasn’t alone in the last moments. That’s all anyone asks for, right? To not leave this world without someone watching over them? Soon, the pain’s gonna stop. After all, to die would be an awfully big adventure, wouldn’t it? I love you, man.

I love you.

The last words on his lips stained with cruor was a declaration of the warmth, care and adoration for one of his best friends. Before he was pulled into the blackness, a numbness, nothingness, seeping into his very soul that couldn’t be explained with the human language. Something that could only be experienced during the last moments of someone’s life. The smoke that rises from the candle of the soul when it’s snuffed out. The black sands of time, the last few grains meeting the bottom of the hourglass. His last words weren’t a complaint, or a curse, or a cry of anguish.

It was love.

It was love, as pure as the bright light that surrounded him, bathing him in a peaceful warmth. It was as if he had blinked, but more instant than that. It was as if he was always in this room. It took him a few seconds to recognise it.

He recognised the pale yellow walls first. He remembered his Mother singing along to Here Comes the Sun as she painted them, covering up the disgusting beige that was underneath it. Dressed in old overalls spattered with paint and a rag as a bandanna to keep her wild brown curls out of her face. Could remember being six years old, watching with curiosity from the covered up couch, and thinking she was the prettiest woman this side of the Wabash river. The way that she looked back and smiled at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling and her giggle sounding like silver bells.

She had dome everything to make this place a home, no matter how little money they had. She’d scrimped and saved for paint, and had traipsed around countless yard sales and flea markets for good furniture. Sure, the couch was a little lumpy, and the coffee table had a deep gouge running down the middle. But that didn’t matter when the home was filled with such earnest warmth and comfort. His old man had left by this time; had walked out in the middle of the night and never came home. And at so young an age, he knew he was truly relieved to see the back of him. Just him and his Mom, in this run down home that still had cracks, but was more than enough.

So what was he doing back here?

Looking down at himself, he could see he was wearing his favourite shirt, one that he had lost long ago. The faded Anthrax shirt that Wayne had bought him for Christmas, now without the tears of being flung around the Hawkins High parking lot during a brawl. Now, it was as pristine and soft as he had remembered. His most comfortable ripped jeans and sneakers, and his prized possessions of the leather jacket and battle vest fitting like a second skin. No blood, no bite wounds, no pain. He felt the best that he had ever felt. He even smelt of his favourite cologne.

The sounds of humming made his head snap towards the source; the kitchen. He knew the humming well. The melodies that had stopped the day she died, and no song had never sounded the same since. He thought he would feel fear, or confusion. But all he could feel was content. Like this was the place he was meant to be all this time, and the living world was only temporary. The confidence of that knowledge fuelled him to take the steps towards the archway, rounding the corner to be met with the figure he wanted to see so badly.

Wayne had always said that Eddie took after his Mom. And that was true. Who could deny the matching halo of curls, and the deep umber eyes? He had his father’s nose, but that was it. Everything else was purely her. And here she was. Harmonising her favourite song as she chopped up vegetables, the pale pink apron that he’d clung to so often as a child still tied around her waist. He took in her profile; the slight upturned nose and slightly parted glossy lips. His heart fluttered like a trapped bird in his ribcage, lips breaking into a grin.

“Mama?”

She turned her head to him, a slight look of confusion on her face for only a second before it became one of joy. The same little crinkle around her eyes that he remembered so vividly as she put down the knife and opened her arms, an offering for an embrace. “Hey baby,” she whispered, voice so soft and gentle that he could cry.

It was near automatic, closing the gap between them and throwing his arms around her. He was taller than her now, no longer having to wrap his arms around her thighs. Now, he practically towered over her, and he could bury his face into the crown of her head. She still smelled the same. Like lavender and roses, a scent that had long faded from his lungs now filling them. He held her so tightly that he was surprised he didn’t crush her, but he couldn’t stop. What if she was going to go again, leave him all on his own like she did ass those years ago? But if she had any complaints, she wasn’t voicing them. Tears welled in his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to stop them from falling. “Mama, I… I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too sweetheart,” she mumbled into his chest, slightly pulling away to look up at him. Her eyes flickered over all his features, a grin spreading across her face as her hands came up to cup his jaw. He leaned into it, savouring the warmth of her palms. “God, I- look at you,” she chuckled, the pad of her thumb coming up to carefully caress the skin just under his eye. “You’ve got so big, huh? Still the same handsome face, though.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled from his chest, too scared to even blink in case she was going to vanish. “It’s been twelve years, Mom. And I missed you. Every single day.”

“I missed you too baby,” she whispered. “But… You’re here so much earlier than I thought. What happened?”

He shook his head, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. She was still there. This was all real, and she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He thought reality was the last life, but this… All his senses seemed to work so much better. He could smell the comforting scent of his Mother, could smell his favourite meal – one that he hadn’t had in thirteen years – being cooked on the stove that only she could work just right. He could feel her soft hands on his face, the sensation grounding him. Could see her beautiful features that mirrored his own, looking up at him like he hung the moon. That past life all felt like a horrible nightmare, one that he was just waking up from. One that he didn’t want to tell her about just yet.

He shook his head slowly, a shy smile flitting across his lips as he rubbed his fingers over the small of her back, enjoying the feeling of her soft cotton dress against his skin. “I’ll tell you later.” Later, he figured, could mean any time in the future. And he had the feeling that he would be here for a joyful eternity. “Is this Heaven?”

“I think so,” she nodded, her hand coming up to brush errant hairs away from his face. “And my Heaven just got better, now you’re here with me.”

His chest tightened, and he couldn’t stop the heaving sob as he hugged her again, holding her so close as if he was trying to pull her into himself. Burying his face into her neck, inhaling her perfume as if he would never smell it again for the second time around. It wasn’t sadness, though, that fuelled his cries. It was happiness. Pure, unfiltered joy, that he finally had what he always wanted. What he wished for every single night, especially when the day had been hard.

He had his Mama back.

“Ssh, none of that,” she cooed, a gentle chide as she rubbed his back soothingly. “I’m here, baby. I’m here for you, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?” he mumbled, causing the woman to softly laugh. To the two of them, a pinky swear had been stronger than any laws. It meant that the one promising would move mountains, just to make it happen. He hadn’t made a pinky swear for so long. Not ever since it didn’t feel the same, when her delicate little finger encircled his.

“Pinky swear,” she echoed, pressing a kiss to his temple.

If this was Heaven, this was the perfect final act. He had the only person that he truly wanted more than anything in this world, back in the home where he knew love without a price tag. No more bruises and broken bones, or cruel words with such abundance that he could drown in them. No more knowing cold, or hunger, or hardship. No more loss and anguish, no more mourning.

He knew it, deep in his gut. Now he was here, all that negativity would be washed away. It was all worth it, to finally be here.

It was finally worth it to be home.

[what-yadoking-likes]

Tw: death. CW: grief/bereavement.

My Grandad, who was more like a Dad to me, passed away Sunday evening.

He had Alzheimer's & Vascular Dementia & had deteriorated significantly in recent weeks, never truly recovering from a prolonged hospital stay for chronic infections that no antibiotics seemed able to clear.

He loved animals. He tamed a Jackdaw as a young man, had it follow him and bring him things. His beloved dog Rex, who he knew as a puppy, was loyal and obedient and loved him dearly. He loved walking. He loved his family. He was proud to work for the company he worked for.

He was illiterate. He left school at age 12. He always encouraged my sister & I in our schooling, even when there were parts of it he didn't understand (like why I had to do another year at university for a PGCE when I had already been at uni for 3 years). He hid it well.

He was funny. He joked with us all the time. Telling us how he hated technology like mobile phones so he would use a drum in the back garden as a means of communicating with us. He told waiters his wife/my Nana had whiskey on her cornflakes instead of milk.

He told me not to get in trouble when he learned I was cohabiting with my partner.

When I told my family we were moving to Hong Kong, he said virtually nothing, but took my partner aside as we were leaving & told him he'd better take care of me.

When he was recently asked what his hobbies were, he told the social worker, "Watching my family grow up".

He chased my sister's bullies across a field and threatened them.

His father was a Tyrant.

He did National Service.

He gave his mother every penny he earned. When she died, she told him she had spent none of it, that it was his money, and that he was not to tell his father about it.

He was the youngest of about 9 children.

I miss him dearly.

Whilst I had every intention of finishing The Cell soon... ain't gonna happen. Maybe in a week's time I will write, maybe tomorrow I will write. But I cannot make any realistic estimate for when this story will end. In fairness - with the release of Payday 3 & inevitable influx of new fans - people will have more content than ever to consume &, well. It's not a big deal. There will be very talented people joining the fandom, I am sure.

I may generally be less active here because. Y'know. Grief.

[felassan]

Sadly, Geraldine Blecker, the voice actor of Shale, has passed away.

[tamayokny]

i just sent my bereavement request to my instructors. (feels so weird because it’s spring break right now.) thank god that one of my peers drafted something for me yesterday, because i felt so lost when i opened outlook. like...yeah i accept that grandpa is gone but also what the fuck. how is this real? how is this my life right now?

i also feel bad for kind of implying to extend deadlines for the next 1-3 weeks but the thing is...i don’t know when the funeral is! i’m not even taking bereavement leave at work until i get that date confirmed. we’re not being told anything (and she’s making it all about her anyway), and we’ll only find out from my grandpa’s younger brother. this is all fucked up. i just want to lay down, go to sleep, and never wake up.

grandpa didn’t deserve how his life ended, and he doesn’t deserve how his memorial is being handled, either.

[shadelorde]

In a more general sense, I feel like the way that media (both fictional and nonfiction) constantly pushes these ‘miracle stories’ of parents somehow saving their children from a terrible illness or deadly situations, because of it’s fear to acknowledge what is seen as the unspeakable, many parents’ worst fear, ALSO pushes this narrative that if your child dies then it is somehow a failure on your part. And that just isn’t true. You cannot endlessly procure miracles, your life is not an inspiration porn story, there are so many parents who have lost their children and it is not their fault. And acting like it is helps no one and makes the life of bereaved families so much harder.

[that-gay-jedi]

Today, I dropped Penny off at the pet crematory. I have been grieving her for a while already and I know I will still be grieving her after her ashes come home. The owner was lovely and I know she's in good hands, but it still felt so strange to put her in someone else's care. With the exception of 2 nights last summer where I'd had my dad catsit her while I camped to see the stars with less light pollution, Penny hasn't left my side in years.

She will be cremated with two of her favourite catnip toys and a small snip of my hair, the latter of which is a kind of agnostic promise- IF there is any truth to the idea of an afterlife we meet again, but if there is not then, still, a part of me will always belong to her.

When she first died she looked so close to life that even though I could see she was completely still, no twitch of whiskers or rise of breath, I was afraid to immediately put her in the freezer in case it somehow resulted in her either freezing to death or waking up during burial/cremation. I opted to lay her body out on a pillow and a folded towel for exactly 24 hours to be sure.

Though it may seem strange to say it, when I moved her 24 hours later I was reassured to see a slow trickle of flux, a vaguely blood-coloured liquid that collects in the lungs of the dead, had run from her mouth and nose onto the towel, because I was finally certain she would not feel the freezer's cold.

When I'd first wrapped her in a plastic bag to freeze her, she'd seemed so heavy, but when I drew her out today it felt like I'd forgotten how small and light she was, and the shallow cardboard box and blanket in which I arranged her for the drive to the crematory both seemed larger than I'd thought.

The front room of the pet crematory was exactly how I had imagined it might be- beautiful and peaceful but just a little too sterile, just like so many human funeral homes. I was just relieved the owner didn't think giving her my hair was weird and that he informed me the tracking procedures used to keep track of individual pets are nearly identical to the ones human crematories use.

While Penny was alive any silence at home, even ones in which I didn't hear her move around or purr, was wholesome and sacred, and often preferable even to my favourite music/audiobooks/shows etc. When she died, silence initially became a kind of sensory poverty lacking the restorative qualities it had previously had. She spent about 6 weeks in my freezer. I had been slowly reintroducing myself to silence and had just gotten to the point where I was sure it would one day be something I intentionally seek out and savour again. Today, though Penny had made no sound from her temporary resting place in all this time, the quiet of my home seems somehow even emptier than it did when she first died.

[bpdcodone]

It’s been 7 years without you

7 years without your smile

7 years without your laugh

7 years without seeing your face

7 years without you

[texas-bbq-pringles]

.

[shellxrls]

MDNI | 18+ content cw: puppy!reader, dirty talk, daddy kink, explicit sexual content - unprotected PinV

rafe is a good boyfriend; strong, in control, and most importantly he knows things. rafe knows that you’ll start cursing when you’re about to cum, he knows that when he finally hits that squishy spot inside of you he’ll feel your long glossy nails raking down his back, and above all he knows that you're a simple pup who just needs good fuck to calm herself down.

and at present moment, he was executing just that. he had you wrapped up in a mean cocoon of strength, strong arms flexing lazily by your ears and growing damp with sweat — the sheen so alluring that you decide to stick out your tongue in a fucked out haze and mouth at the bulging muscle.

“daddy fucks you reallll good doesn’t he princess… stickin’ your tongue out like a damn dog all for me,” rafe grunts into your ear, mouthing at the shell until his hot breath makes you go clammy, tummy clenching as your pussy sucks him in.

rafe pulls back when the frequency of your pants increases, easing the weight on your chest and leaning back to display his glistening chest in a way that forces a mournful noise out of you, pussy weeping in tandem, he watches his dick pummel in and out of you all creamy and fluid.

you ogle as his stomach grows tense, shoulders heaving to display sinewy layers of muscle, all tell-tale signs of his culmination to orgasm — and then he moves his hand to roughly slap at your clit, and it hits you faster than you would’ve expected.

you weep, pushing at the mattress and squirming away while rafe lifts up the hood of your clit, spitting directly on it and pinching the bud, “who’s your daddy baby ? c’mon i know it’s somewhere in that little puppy brain of yours,” he demands, smirk growing despite his tenured rigidity.

knowing he wouldn’t let you cum without confirmation, you struggle out a muffled and tearful ‘rafe’.

“uh uh, need to actually hear it,” he repeats.

“mmfffine, you rafe ‘s you,” you slur belligerently, scraping at his chest when he sinks in for a final few thrusts, squeezing you eyes shut albeit from a few stray tears while you finally allow yourself to cum.

rafe follows shortly after, ‘fuckin’knewit’ followed by a string of littered curses until he stills inside you still balls deep, resting gently so his chin lay on your head, giving you the opportunity to suck and bite at his clavicle.

“damn puppy, always bitin’ aren’t you,” he groans, pulling him off much to your bereavement and going to get himself cleaned off before he helps you.

[morgue-xiiv]

Good news: Ruby has recovered a lot from the death of her mother. She's now almost normal.

She also now knows her name is Ruby.

We'd always suspected that she didn't, but when Mallory died we found out for sure: to Ruby the word "Ruby" didn't mean anything, and the word "Malloy" meant "both dogs". Mallory knew Mallory meant her before Ruby existed, but Ruby had never experienced lack-of-mallory. There was no way to call just Ruby, if you wanted Mallory you called Mallory and you got both. Usually you just called "Mal! Ruby!" and she responded to Mal/mals/mally/mallory and believed Ruby to hold no meaning. It must have been odd for her... to her she lost her mother AND her name. Now we call her Ruby and she probably doesn't understand that we always did.

[wetcatspellcaster]

Were Rose's parents good parents? I know that most of her trauma stems from Threnn, but I get the impression that she's had to apologize for her existence her whole life. She also hasn't mentioned them much in your various fics, so I was curious. Thanks!

oh, my goodness, anon... are you psychic?

um.

...coming soon! watch this space!

in answer to your questions, Rosalie actually has good parents. it's really interesting to see your read on her character, and I absolutely don't want to invalidate it, but I actually imagine her as growing up in a very sheltered and loving upbringing, and that's why rejection sensitivity hits her so hard in her 20s.

There are many scraps of people I know that have gone into Rose, but one of particular piece was me watching one of my best friends go through a breakup at around 23, and watching in utter confusion as said friend GRIEVED that honestly-very-mid relationship so hard, for over a year. I don't mean being sad or upset about the breakup - that made sense to me. I mean literal grief. I went through a heavy bereavement in my teens, but this friend had literally never failed at anything or suffered a set-back, and all her family was alive, including both sets of grandparents. This breakup hit her so hard, because it was genuinely her first experience of loss. As someone who'd had loss hit her hard at a formative age, I did my best to comfort her, but underneath it all I have to admit it was also kind of fascinating to watch.

I think if Rosalie had had a hard childhood, she'd be a different kind of character. I needed to have her in a set of circumstances, where the realisation in adulthood that you're alone, truly alone, and looking after yourself for the first time, and if you ask for help you'll feel like you've failed because everyone will know you're not doing ok, is genuinely seismic for her and causes this massive change in her life. I'm not saying that can't happen to people who haven't had sheltered upbringings, but for me it makes sense that an upbringing without much hardship would produce that set of circumstances.

for me, it's also interesting to see the changes that happen in people's 20s that are nothing to do with their family at all. I know from experience that people can invent problems for themselves and reasons to find themselves unloveable that are utterly divorced from the evidence placed in front of them. Rosalie isolates herself from her parents, not the other way around. and as always, depression is the biggest unreliable narrator of all.

hope that makes sense! I also hope you enjoy what is to come!

[belovedcloud]

A Ride

pairing: DBF! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ notes: in love with older Leon so much, especially thinking about him giving you a ride on his bike! sorry for like my 3 week hiatus, important stuff is going on in my life alongside bereavement. :) ALSO, over 1K likes on my older neighbour post thank you so much!

➤ WC: 2.8K

➤ CW: Older Leon, reader is the daughter of Leon's best friend, Leon is in his 40's, reader is early 20's. SMUT. 18+, public sex (nobody is around), pet names, fingering, squirting, mention of going dumb on Leon's cock, p in v, no protection (but he pulls out).

Coming back home for summer break was always exciting for you and your family, moving away meant you had to create new friends. So to finally be reunited with the people you loved the most was refreshing, leaving your academic life behind for a while. Per usual, coming back always meant a little celebration among your family and friends. Did you expect any less? This year would be different, you would be meeting the man you haven't seen for years. Yet it was like there was no break between you two, the comfortable feeling around you both never dissipated.

"Oh honey I'm so glad you got back safe!" Your mother exclaimed, taking the bags from your hands as you arrived back home. Alas, you could relax. Be yourself. Walking into the familiar home, memories from the past year flooding your brain. Seeing your father giving you a goofy grin as he saw you. Pulling you into a big bear hug. Chatting was amongst you three, asking how your studies were - if you were overworking yourself and what not. "I've got the grill on, we're making your favourite." A chuckle erupted from your father's mouth until the doorbell rang. "Oh! People are arriving sweetheart. Go on, go upstairs and get yourself sorted out." A small grin appeared on your mother's face. Obliging to what she said, you jogged up the stairs. That same smell that lingered around the house as you walked into your childhood bedroom. Throwing your bags on the bed, you changed into something more suitable for this occasion.

Going downstairs was chaos. Greeting friends and distant family members, alongside your parent's friends was tiresome. Your social battery was draining out quick - yet you hadn't seen the man you wanted to see. The man you wanted to be here. Laughter echoed throughout the house, clinks of drinks and bubbly talks followed you. You were completely zoned out as your eyes stared out the window - a person you knew appeared. It was him. The 3 knocks on the door dragged you out of your thoughts as your body rushed to the front. Opening the door he stood in front of you, Leon was here. "Hey sweetheart." A lowly chuckle came out of his throat as he opened his arms to you. Without hesitation, you engulfed him into a hug. "Leon! I missed you." Quiet giggles exchanged the both of you as you led him inside. "Where's your dad hm?" His eyes searched around the house, your finger pointing towards your father. "Got a surprise for you." His hand squeezed your arm before he left you - your warmth leaving at the same time as you saw the way his lips move as he spoke to your father.

"So.. is that a yes?" Leon was trying to persuade your dad... With what? Reluctantly, a faint nod came from your father. "Keep her safe you hear?" Seemed like your father was a bit tipsy - he knew Leon would keep you safe. "Don't be stupid." Leon laughed as he walked away from the conversation, smiling at your confused face from your eavesdropping. "Listening in?" His elbow nudged your arm, earning a scoff from you. The playful roll of your eyes made him feel warm, God you were a beautiful woman. The smile that laid on your face or those gorgeous eyes that stared back into his. Was it wrong of him to want you? To want you in indescribable ways. From cute little dates to obscenely lewd thoughts of you with him. The crispiness in your voice snapped him out of his trance as you responded "No... Well, what the hell were you talking about?" Skepticism flooded all over you as your eyes met with Leon's. "Come outside 'nd I'll show you." He took your hand into his, leading you both outside of the front yard. You tried to think of the possible ideas he had, but none came into your head until you saw the vehicle in front of you.

"No fucking way... Your motorcycle?" A gasp elicited out your throat as your head shot at his, pleading for his confirmation. "Yup, wanna go on a ride? Just like how you've always wanted to." A smirk plastered Leon's face as he passed you a helmet, the cold metal conflicting the soft padding in the inside. "How come I gotta wear a helmet?" You groaned seeing Leon get on the bike without one on. You couldn't deny it, he was incredibly attractive. Ever since you were young you saw him in that way. The way his hair flowed when he reared his bike, his concentrated face as he rode out. Everything about him was handsome, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine. "Well, I don't want you getting hurt princess. Was hard enough to persuade your dad y'know?" He chuckled as he extended his arm out to you, signaling to you to get on. "Yeah as if, he was tipsy you liar." A muffled laugh came out of you as the helmet covered you. Gripping on the back of the seat, your hands slowly slid around Leon's waist. An almost silent purr leaving his throat, the tips of your fingers slightly digging into him felt good. "Hold on tight f'me." He commanded as he started it up - suddenly the wheels took off. Screams and giggles rushed out your throat as your eyes tried to stay in line with the surroundings passing by you so quickly.

The dimly lit skies shrouded over the both of you as Leon's chuckles came out of his mouth hearing you giggle, riding into the sunset was a beautiful experience. The clouds creating an ombre effect, illuminating the both of you as the motorcycle passed through dirt roads. Wheels of the motorbike started to die down in speed as Leon swerved into a small secluded area, the red leaves flying past your faces as the bike was mounted on top of the small hill. Leon turned to you, a caring expression on his face. "You okay sweetheart?" Your hands slowly unlatched off him as you wobbled off the motorbike, meekly nodding as you replayed that experience in your head. "Y-Yeah, that was crazy.." You breathed out, seeing Leon get off the motorbike too. His hands slowly approached the helmet on your head, taking it off. His gaze roamed your face, the deep blue eyes boring into yours, a soft smile appearing his lips. "I know you don't really like the crowded house, so I thought to take you out here instead. Pretty night as well." Leon noted as the helmet was discarded somewhere around the bike, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. "Yeah... It's really pretty tonight." A mumble left your throat as your body melted to his touch. A low chuckle left Leon as he guided you to the sequoia tree. The grainy surface of the oak pressed against your back, sitting down on the meadow of grass and daisies beneath you.

A soft sigh abandoned your throat, the scenery in front of you absolutely mesmerizing. A chill ran down your spine as you felt Leon's eyes peering at you. Turning your head, you see him stare at you, his eyes slowly grazing over the whole of you as a soft smile spread across his lips. "You've grown to be a beautiful young woman y'know." The crispiness of his voice contradicted the mellow look he gave you. Your face felt hot, the breeze could not cool it down as you shyly looked down into your lap. Leon's voice was as smooth as honey, your face didn't go unnoticed as he gave a breathy chuckle to your timid expression. "Don't get shy, you know you're attractive." His calloused fingers gently touched her face. Fuck. Those blue eyes looked into yours and your lips parted ever so slightly. Your voice only a mere whisper as you spoke back to him. "I... Why do I feel like this?" You knew why. Deep down in your heart you longed for him. Crave was the better word for your feelings towards Leon. However, him being your dad's best friend really wasn't the best circumstance at this point. The moral thoughts weighed out in your head as you mindlessly stared at him back - it was wrong but it felt so right. Just to feel him embrace and kiss you was all you wanted. Right? Oh, how he wanted you so much more. His hand cupped your cheek as he softly pressed a kiss to your forehead. No. You didn't want the kiss there.

"What's wrong? What do you mean love?" Leon asked as his hand rubbed your shoulder. Gentle strokes of his fingers trying to ease your body. It did the complete opposite. "You make me feel so warm, 'nd.. I dunno?" You sighed out, trying to change the subject. It was embarrassing how he got you in a state of longing. Longing for him and only him. Leon wasn't stupid, he knew what you needed and God so help him he knew he needed it too. "Let me help you feel better sweetheart, I can't have my favourite girl so clueless..." His lips encapsulated yours, a soft mewl elicited out your throat as you kissed him back. You felt so good against him, a groan left his lips as the kiss became more passionate.

Only minutes later were you straddled on him, his lips pressing quick kisses down your neck as Leon's hands wandered all over your body. Mellow mewls leaving both of your throats as you touched each other. You knew this was wrong, it was so wrong. Leon, your dad's best friend, touching you and caressing you in so many ways in one was inexcusable. It felt so right. It felt right to melt into the palms of his hands as his lips slowly pressed against your neck. Leaving small wet kisses, the cold air breezing onto your skin - leaving you to shiver on top of him. "So perfect, so fucking perfect sweetheart." Leon moaned out underneath you, his fingers slowly tugging on the waistband of your pants. "I wanna take these off you, that okay with you?" He purred in your ear, the silkiness of his voice travelling throughout your body. That dull ache you felt within you needing to be satiated answered for you, your head nodding frantically giving Leon all the permission he needs to satisfy you. The swiftness of his fingers as he skillfully pulled down your pants, showing your pretty lace panties. You couldn't help but cover your face with one of your hands, scared of what he was going to say. "Did you wear these for me?" He questioned with a sly smirk on his face. Fuck, he knew how to rile you up inside - your head meekly nodded up and down as you panted a soft "yes". A chuckle could be heard from Leon as he mumbled about you being cute before laying you on the ground. The blades of grass tickling your bare legs.

Leon didn't know how to feel about the situation at hand. How he longed for you was soon to be satiated but was this morally right? However, his body outweighed his mind as he subconsciously slide your panties to the side. Seeing your slick puffy lips shine in front of him granted you a groan from his mouth. The pad of his finger steadily ran up the slit, a breathy moan fleeing your mouth. An ethereal feeling shock-waving through you. Your wetness pulled him in as his fingers shakily pumped in and out of your pussy. You were so pretty for him, the most enchanting woman he had ever saw. How your face scrunched up in pleasure as his eyes flickered from your face to your cunt being pistoned by his two fingers. Velvety moans chanting out of you as you moaned out his name, craving more of him. Leon felt his heart thump heavily in his chest as he held your body, giving you an overwhelming sense of belonging. You belonged to him, your pussy was his.

"L-Leon.." A quiet mewl scratched out of your throat as you felt yourself get close. It was obvious to Leon as well - he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. His thumb snaked up to your bud, a rubbing sensation startled your body into otherworldly pleasure. Your voice echoing throughout his head as you moaned loudly, gushing all over his fingers. As you rode your orgasm out, Leon's eyes stared at your pretty state. You were all disheveled because of him.

He couldn't handle it anymore, he needed you.

Leon needed to make you feel good around his cock. The leathery feel of his belt slowly disappeared as he unbuckled it, removing his jeans alongside it. He took off his jacket, sliding it underneath you. Your mind still felt fuzzy from your previous orgasm but that misty feeling soon left as you felt his tip slowly push into you. A gasp escaping Leon's throat as his fingers pushed into the plushness of your hips. "Fuck.. Sweetheart, you feel so good." He groaned lowly, his voice thick with desire. His gaze raked over your body again, admiring your beauty once more. Taking in your beautiful curves, he thrusted further in. "Oh.. Leon." Was all you could scramble out your lips as he started to move his hips. The view of you was a picture perfect scene to him, making his heart race. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands covered your face. The embarrassment flooding through your body was soon torn apart as his soft voice whispered in your ear. "Show me that pretty face of yours, please..." He was begging you. Leon yearned to see your features, it was the main reason the position you both in was missionary. Unable to decline him, your hands slowly unraveled from your face. A low groan pierced out of Leon as he looked at you, his thrusts becoming deeper.

"Fuck, I love you. I love you so much." He moaned out as his fingers felt for your clit, rubbing it once more to make you scream. Your head rustled in the meadow of grass, the same pleasure flowing through your body. "I.." You couldn't finish off your sentence as the urge to cum became too strong. The tension in Leon's body slowly dissipated as his hips became melodic with his movement. His gentle embrace on you immediately washed away any guilt that riddled his mind. His voice carried a sultry edge as he stuttered out "Going dumb on my cock sweetheart?". He wasn't wrong, he never was. Your body completely relaxed from his gentle touches which conflicted the deep pounding he was giving you. Whimpers and moans wailed out your throat - oh how he was making you feel so good was mind-blowing. "That's it love, moan for me nice and pretty." He mumbled, his voice deep and seductive, looking at you with ravenous eyes. You felt your orgasm build up again, your voice sputtering out to try and tell Leon. This orgasm felt different, it felt overwhelming. Something that you couldn't hold back at all. He felt you tighten around him so suddenly, pulling him in as you mumbled incoherent phrases. "Leon" "I can't" "Fuck" was all he could decipher as he felt something different. You soaked the base of his cock and the surrounding area around it. It gushed out of you so quick you didn't know what happened. All you knew was that it felt so good, that the way Leon's dick was hitting that spot was increasing in pleasure. Your eyes rolling back as you continued to squirt as Leon sunk into you again. His eyes widened feeling your wetness splat on his skin.

"Did you just? Fuck you're amazing.." He groaned out, pistoning his dick into you as he chased for his own release. The sounds of both of your bodies making clapping noises as he felt his cock throb inside of you. You gasped, feeling the fast pace thrusts as your hands grabbed onto his jacket underneath you. Leon couldn't take it anymore, the contentment coursing through his veins as he pulled out quickly. His cum splattered onto your panties, his head thrown back from the sexual gratification you gave him. Your thighs shaking in return since you lost the feeling of him inside of you.

After a series of soft panting later, you finally mumbled out to him. "I love you too." Leon raised an eyebrow as he buckled his belt, looking back up at you. "You said it, well you said you loved me when you were fucking me." A hushed voice escaped you. Leon's confusion slowly turned into a soft expression as he kissed your forehead. "I do love you." A giggle left your lips as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, his stumble pricking at you. "So.. what now?" A question that was destined to be answered. "We'll figure that out." He chuckled out. All he knew was that you both loved each other, sexually and romantically.

"Let's get back home, yeah?"

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[what-yadoking-likes]

Yado's goal for 2023: finish writing The Cell.

Yado now:

In my defense, my Gran/Dad died.

But anyway THIS YEAR--