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appocalipse · 1 month

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summary: you were way too drunk last night and said some funny things...so, of course, steve had no other option but take you to his place to take care of you. :)

read part 1 here

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ��➷

Your head hurts.

Everything feels a little weird, in fact, but especially your head, spinning and throbbing and, when you try to pry your eyes open, the sudden harsh light streaming into the room feels like it's physically boring straight through your brain.

"Fuck," you whimper pitifully, eyes squeezing shut once more. Your ears are ringing, there's a coppery film lining the inside of your mouth and, for a terrible second, your stomach churns dangerously. "Fuck."

Someone hums somewhere near your right ear. A low, gravelly, vaguely amused sort of hum. There is absolutely nothing and no one alive on this green earth that would hum in that particular fashion except your best friend.

You peel your eyelids apart with great difficulty. When you tilt your head to the right, you see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at you with a soft look on his face.

Naturally, you proceed to freak the fuck out.

"Jesus Christ," you cry, scrambling backwards until you feel the back of your head slam against the headboard with a resounding thud. The dull throb in the back of your skull intensifies, and you have to fight back the urge to throw up. "Ow! Shit, I—What—what happened? Why are you in my—"

Hold on a second...this is not your room.

You cast an anxious, furtive glance around the unfamiliar setting of Steve Harrington's guest room. Panic floods your veins and has your heart hammering in your chest when you notice that you're clad in only one of his shirts and sweatpants that definitely don't belong to you.

Oh, Dear Lord.

Did something happen last night that you can't remember? Did something — oh, God, no.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you as though he can read your mind. "Relax. Nothing happened, relax, come back down," he coos gently, placing a placating hand on your arm. "And I...I didn't see anything, if that's what you're worried about. Nancy and Robin, uh...they helped you shower and get changed last night. Not me."

You cover your face with both hands, letting out a muffled groan as your memories come trickling back in. You don't remember every little detail from the previous night, but what you do remember is already more than enough to fill you with mortification and regret.

"...you said some pretty interesting things while you were drunk, though."

"Shut up," you mumble, peeking up at him through splayed fingers, "go away."

"Really, though," Steve continues, the teasing glint in his eyes a sure sign that he is very much enjoying your suffering, "who knew you found me so attractive?"

"Oh, Jesus," you mutter, groaning as you slide down to hide underneath the comforter, "where are my clothes? I want to leave now."

Steve snickers but makes no move to get up from his perch on the bed. You can hear the rustling of fabric, like he's adjusting his position as he waits for you to come out from under the blanket. "Clothes are in the wash, sorry," he says, sounding very much not sorry at all. "You, um, thought it was a good idea to lie down on the grass last night."

"Kill me now."

"Nope," he chirps, quite cheerfully so, "can't do that, because then who would watch Back to the Future with me tonight?"

You part the comforter just enough to peer up at him from beneath the thick layer of blanket.

"'Back to the Future'?" you echo, trying to ignore the fact that you feel a little lightheaded when Steve smiles down at you.

He looks nice. He always does, but even more so now for some reason — you're guessing it has something to do with the fact that you just woke up and haven't had the time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him up close yet.

"Mmhmm. You up for it?"

"I'm pretty sure that my head is literally going to explode any time now."

It's really not that bad anymore, but Steve doesn't need to know that, does he?

He nods seriously in agreement. "Right, because you drank way more than you should've last night. Might have mentioned something about rules and...mhmm, what was it? Oh, yes, dying if I didn't let you touch my hair…?"

"No, I didn't."

"You really did," he tells you, leaning back on the heels of his palms, "but don't worry, it was cute."

"I am very much worried," you say miserably.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh and leans forward again, hands reaching out to tug the blanket down far enough to uncover your face completely. "Come on," he says, "do you need anything? Aspirin, maybe? Food? Water?"

You consider his offer, taking the time to mull it over while you avoid his gaze.

"Why did you bring me home with you?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

"You, uh...really didn't want me to. Pretty much refused to let go of me all night."

"Steve."

"No, really!" he insists, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was like trying to pry a koala off a tree. You even asked—"

You let out a helpless moan of protest and turn away from him as much as you can, hiding your face in the pillow. Steve laughs, clearly delighted by the fact that he's managed to thoroughly embarrass you in less than ten minutes.

"You asked me if I—"

"I don't wanna know!"

"—would sleep in your bed with you."

"Nope," you whisper, your voice coming out a little garbled due to the way you've pressed your face into the pillows, "don't wanna hear it. Shut up, Steve, oh my God. Please."

"It was very adorable."

"I was drunk."

"Still. Cute."

You prop your head up on your elbow so that you can see him a little better, keeping the blanket held tightly around your shoulders as you do. "Sorry I called you. I don't even remember doing it, Tina just told me to and…sorry."

Steve looks down at his lap, shifting a little uncomfortably on the bed.

"I don't mind," he says, lifting his gaze up to meet yours briefly. "You said you missed me. At the party."

A dry, humorless chuckle leaves you and you cringe when the sudden motion sends a sharp pain lancing through your forehead. "Ow. Of course you would remember that," you say, cheeks heating up.

"Do you...remember everything?"

You blink, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Everything?" you ask, more to buy yourself some time than anything else.

"You, um..." Steve trails off, clearly unsure of how to broach the topic with you, "you said I made you feel…stuff inside. That you felt stuff. Or something like that. Do you...remember saying that?"

You can practically feel all the color draining out of your face, leaving behind a blank canvas that hides none of your inner panic.

"Uh...no, no, I don't. Do you have a...I need to, um, use your bathroom, like, right now, if you don't mind."

Steve blinks. "Oh, okay. Sure. I bought you a toothbrush earlier, by the way. It's in the medicine cabinet if...if you want."

"Yep," you say, climbing out from under the blanket with as much dignity as you can muster (which is very little), "yep, okay, thanks. I'm...gonna go do that. Now. Okay, bye."

You spend a good five minutes inside the bathroom splashing water in your face while silently wishing for death to come claim you sooner rather than later. Then, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush Steve left out for you — which is totally not cute, it's not cute, why did he do that, ugh, damn him — before venturing out into the hall.

"Steve?"

"Kitchen," he calls out from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, "you want pancakes?"

You hesitate.

The idea of staying to have breakfast alone with Steve Harrington seems oddly intimate after last night, a dangerous prospect that will undoubtedly lead to awkward small talk and more teasing. However, he did go out of his way to buy you a toothbrush this morning...

You swallow down the nervousness you feel and pad barefoot down the staircase into the foyer, following the sounds of clinking utensils and soft humming to the kitchen.

Steve looks up from his place at the stove when you appear in the doorway.

"Hey," he greets, giving you a quick once over. "How's your head?"

"Feels like there's a little person in there hitting it repeatedly with a little hammer," you admit, grimacing a little as you come further into the room and sit down at the island. "Thanks, by the way. For helping me out last night. And today. I really am sorry for...um, you know, that."

"'That'?"

You purse your lips and Steve grins.

"Yes, that," you mutter, swiveling your seat from left to right while you watch him attempt to read a recipe on the back of a box of pancake mix. "Drunk me is like, twice as embarrassing as sober me."

"Embarrassing isn't the word I'd use."

"Please," you scoff, "I was pathetic. I could barely walk by myself."

Steve glances back at you. "I didn't think you were pathetic."

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Okay, maybe a little pathetic," he concedes with a little snort, "but mostly just…sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, sweet. Don't know if anyone's ever told you that before."

"Sweet," you say again, the headache suddenly no more than an afterthought. "That's how you'd describe me?"

Steve, apparently having given up on making sense out of the instructions on the back of the box, turns around to lean against the counter behind him and studies you with his arms folded loosely over his chest.

"Yes," he says, tilting his head to the side a little. "Not the word you expected me to say?"

There's something about the way he's looking at you. It's warm and piercing all at once, like he can see right through you. It makes it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden, hard for you to do anything but gape at him like a goldfish that's been pulled out of water.

"Uh, I'm...confused."

"Me too," he admits with a little huff of laughter. "I was thinking about what you said."

"About your hair?"

"No, well, yeah, but—" Steve pauses, dragging a hand down his face with a weary sigh. "Look, what you said to me yesterday, about the things I make you feel, I—"

"I said I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," Steve interrupts, shooting you an unamused look, "I'm trying to say something here, come on, give me a sec."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"You're not supposed to apologize for apologizing."

"I'm s—okay, right. Mouth shut."

Steve purses his lips to stifle his amusement at your antics. You fold your arms in front of your chest and keep your gaze fixed firmly on the marble countertop as you wait for him to continue.

"I, uh," he says, pushing himself away from the counter so that he can wander over to the other side of the kitchen, where you sit, "I feel things too, you know. With you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he stops beside you, "'Oh'. Weird, right?"

You'd like to, but can't think of anything clever to say that would serve as a suitable response. You don't think Steve's looking for one, anyway, because he reaches out to tap his fingers lightly on the back of your hand, taking a seat on the stool next to yours.

"S'weird, 'cause I don't know if you meant what you said when you were drunk, or if it was just the alcohol talking, or what."

You shake your head quickly, and then wince because of the way the headache thuds behind your right eye.

"Robin says I'm an idiot and should stop being such a chicken," he continues, with a slight roll of his eyes. "And Eddie says if I don't 'shut up and tell you how I feel soon', he'll do it for me."

You nod, smiling despite your hangover. "Eddie's, uh, got a point, no?"

"Maybe," Steve allows, rubbing absently at the side of his neck.

He lets his hands slide down to the legs of your stool, fingers curling around the metal of each side. You don't quite understand what he's doing until he gives them a light tug, jerking you closer to him without warning.

You let out a little shriek of surprise as you reach up to clutch onto the first solid thing your hands find — his forearms.

"Ah! What—Steve!"

He's got an amused smile on his face, but his eyes are bright and nervous all at once. Steve pushes your stool even closer to him, until your knees knock against his own and he's forced to lean down to keep his eyes on you.

You hold his gaze steadily as he edges closer. "What are you doing?" you murmur, watching his eyes flit downward to track the movement of your tongue as it peeks out to wet your dry lips.

"Not sure yet," Steve hesitates when your lips are a hairsbreadth apart. He watches, half-dazed, half-entranced by the way you stare back at him, unblinking. "But I've got a theory."

"A theory?"

He lowers his head toward yours. You press your hands flat against the hard plane of his chest to steady yourself, fingers splaying over the soft material of his t-shirt as you curl them around the fabric. Steve exhales, and you can feel his breath on your skin, a soft tickle that raises the goosebumps all over your skin.

"Wanna hear it?"

You nod slowly, aware of the way his eyes darken as they trace your face. He's so close that you can make out the fine dusting of freckles and moles that litter his skin, the long fan of his lashes as they flutter to a close. If you moved even slightly, your lips would brush against his.

"What's your…your theory?" you whisper.

You can feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he releases his hold on your stool, lifts both hands up to cradle your face instead. He slides the tips of his fingers along the side of your neck, lets his thumb trace your jaw.

"I think," Steve says, and you can tell he's struggling to string two coherent words together when you feel his thumb quiver against your cheekbone. "I think that, uh, you're—Christ, I—"

His nose brushes against yours and you tilt your chin up instinctively, chasing the brief contact. You smirk. "Christ, you...?"

"Shut up," Steve huffs out a breathless laugh. "I'm getting to it."

"Are you?" you tease, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, your turn to pull him towards you gently.

Steve goes easily, moving his hand from your face to brace the back of your neck. "I think," he starts, eyes crinkling at the corners, "that I might be in love with you."

It's such an unforeseen, unexpected confession that your heart almost gives out in your chest.

You gape up at him, at his crooked grin, at his rosy cheeks. "You think?"

He blinks and then squints down at you like he can't decide whether he wants to be annoyed at your antics or kiss you. You hope for the latter, but he says, "What're you, a parrot?"

Shrugging, you're unable to keep your lips from quirking into a grin of your own. "Rude."

Steve's head falls forward and he rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his pulse thundering wildly against the hand you've pressed flat against his chest, and it makes you feel a little better about your own pounding heart.

"M'sorry."

You smooth a hand over his shirt and hook a finger under the neckline. "Forgiven," you tell him.

"Good," Steve says, nudging his nose against yours playfully.

You want to say something else, maybe tease him about his hair or something equally as inconsequential, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he leans down and closes the distance between you with a slow, tentative press of his lips to yours.

Now, Steve's mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses you like he's got all the time in the world. You shiver when he drags his fingers up the back of your neck, tangling them in your hair so that he can pull you closer yet.

You only pull back when the need to breathe becomes too urgent, giggling at the little noise of protest he lets out as you do. But Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he pulls you back in almost immediately, the movement so abrupt that you nearly topple backwards off the stool.

"Steve—I..." you manage to say, between your giggles and the heated press of his lips against yours. "I still...need to breathe, mister."

He huffs out a little laugh against the side of your neck, nips at the sensitive skin in retaliation. You squeal in delight and jab him playfully in the stomach, laughing as he recoils in mock agony.

"Stop laughing," Steve complains, the warmth of his own laughter tickling the underside of your chin when he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more, "come on, you're ruining the moment."

"Wait," you breathe, right before his lips meet yours again, "so...no pancakes, then?"

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and shakes with quiet laughter."You," Steve mumbles into the side of your neck, "are something else, you know that?"

You grin. "Apparently, you like that. Love that...no?"

You can feel him smile, the stretch of his lips curving against the skin of your shoulder.

"Apparently...yeah, I do. I do."

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barbiesmuse · 1 month

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ᰔᩚ FALSE GOD.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָjohn price + milf!reader

summary: a little blurb of price fingering milf!reader while her daughter is with her dad.

tags: fingering, praise, age gap, price kisses readers tears, reader squirts, reader has a daughter, reader's daughter is referred to as babygirl, reader's baby daddy is a deadbeat!

head barbies announcements: this was silly i was bored and horny!! also men personifying pussy is such a power move!! sorry this is actually kind of dirty!

you whine softly as price plunges his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. you sniffle as tears stream down your face. john has the two of you faced in front of a mirror. your eyes were heavy and your breathing was rough. price smirked as he watched your eyes follow his fingers. his thumb finds its way to your clit rubbing soft circles on the rosebud. “oh sweet girl, wipe those tears f’me hm? promise it'll feel better soon. just gotta get your sweet pussy used to me first. gotta be gentle with her.” he says, pressing gentle kisses to her ear.

you sniffle and turn your head, looking up at him with glossy eyes. as his thick and calloused fingers continue to demolish your tight cunt you feel the same achy feeling in your stomach that you always feel when he touches you this way. price coos at you and kisses your tears, he was so gentle with you. he tasted the salty drop on his tongue and smirked. as you got closer to your orgasm your hands found price's wrist trying to slow him down as his fingers split your pretty pussy open.

“look at this pretty pussy sweetheart, see how needy you are for my fingers? what would you do without me, hm? i know you're stressed about babygirl. let it out mama. ” price says, as your orgasm washes over you your legs tremble. as you lay in his lap, legs spread, hair disheveled, and your soft whines filling his ears he can't help but feel himself coming in his pants. price groans in your ear, which only makes you spiral even more. your clear liquids spurt from your pussy and he chuckles.

“fuck john, feels so good! mmph, need your cock now please!” you say as you feel his fingers continue to stimulate your pussy. as he pulls his fingers out of your sopping hole he smirks as you clench on nothing. he studies you, you were a mess. nowhere near ready for his rough cock. “oh dear heart, y’r not ready yet.” price says, he looks at you through the mirror. he smiles and shoves his finger into your mouth. as you taste yourself you moan around his fingers.

price pulls his fingers from your mouth and replaces them with his chapped lips, his tongue meets yours and the two of you mix. you wrap your arms around his neck and moan into the kiss. you pull away and bite his lip. he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss to the valley of your breasts. “can always count on my sweet girl to taste so good.”

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bedoballoons · 6 months

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I wanna request smthng simple,,,

Any character with user that naturally have a really hot body temperature plz (on my knees)

This is actually right up my alley, I always run warmer compared to everyone else! I love it, thank you so much for your request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~To hawt~༺}

CW: Suggestive fluff! MDNI! Mentions of being in the shower together and multiple other scenarios! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour, Diluc: My dear, Albedo: My love,

(Includes: Lyney, Diluc, Albedo,and Wriothesley!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You tossed and turned in bed, feeling like you were melting under the hot covers...when had the cold night air turn into muggy warmth. You lifted the blanket off of yourself, almost gasping at the relief the cooler air brought to your body, now if only Lyney could take the rest of the blankets so they weren't touching you at all, then you might just be able to-

"M...mmon amour?"

"Oh no did I wake you Lyney?"

"No, its just really cold out and I could feel the blankets moving. Why are you in uncovered? You're going to freeze to death. Here let me tuck you in."

"No no, that's okay! Ha, I was actually feeling warm!"

"..." He paused for a second, contemplating wether you'd actually meant your body temperature was running higher than a normal person's would...or if this was actually due to some suggestive dreams. The second answer left a bit of room for flirting, even if it was the middle of the night he'd never miss the opportunity. "Mon amour, if you are ever feeling overheated...you can always ask me for help~"

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc pulled back from the water the second it hit his skin, feeling like he'd just been hit with a bucket of ice water,...when he said he wanted to take a shower with you...he hadn't expected that to mean a cold one. "Ahem...could we turn up the heat of the water? I can't imagine what use we have for a cold shower at this moment in time."

"It's not cold though, this is my normal shower temperature. Actually it's a little warm for me." You smiled at him brightly, rubbing shampoo into your hair while he stared back at you in shock...how could water that felt like it had been shipped right from the dragon spine streams...be what you shower in everyday? "Diluc...?"

"...is it because you're to hot?"

Your eyes widened at his question, soap suds running down your soft skin as his face turned red, he hadn't meant it the way it sounded, but now of course he couldn't take it back, especially since the both of you were currently naked in front of eachother...trying to unsay something like that wasn't going to work in this situation.

"...."

"....."

"Just to hot to handle I guess."

"Yes, yes you are my dear."

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Here you go my love, please keep warm with it." Albedo draped his coat onto your shoulders, hoping to heat you up while the two of you watched the subtle snowfall of dragonspine. He wasn't sure how you hadn't started shivering already, usually humans would be freezing about now, but you actually didn't seem bothered in the slightest.

"Awe you don't have to. I'm actually not cold at all if you'd like to keep it." You snuggled up closer to him, emphasizing your body heat as your warm hand slid into his delicate cold one...you really didn't seem affected by the snow. How very interesting. "We've been together for awhile now and I've noticed you always tend to run warmer than others. Is there a reason behind this? Perhaps somewhere in your family lineup your relatives bonded with that of a pyro slime..."

"What in teyvat are you talking about? I highly doubt any of my relatives had relationships with pyro slimes, I just have a high body heat and being near you doesn't help." Your heart instantly picked up pace as your words slipped out before you could stop them...when had you gotten flirty?

"I suppose it would be a slimy situation either way then hm?"

"A-a-albedo!"

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

"How would you like your tea?" His grace set out a cup of sugar, excited to hear what kind of ways you liked to mix up the delicious drink. In truth this was a incredibly important question to him, after all it's his favourite beverage and he makes it often, knowing your order will tell him more about you and allows him to make it just the way you like from then on. He only hoped you wouldn't get tired of it soon after he started serving it to you..

"Hmm a couple spoonfuls of sugar and lots of ice!"

"...ice?" His ears perked up, attention fully trained on you...he simply couldn't imagine why someone would want to put ice into their hot tea. To cool it down? But wouldn't it loose it's flavour, leaving it more like a tea flavoured water instead?

"Mhm! Iced tea is so yummy and it makes it harder for my body to overheat!"

"...iced tea. Do you normally use ice as a means to cool yourself off?"

"...yes."

"Interesting, I'll have to remember that~"

"Remember that for what???"

"Nothing."

"Wrio??"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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charmercharm3r · 8 months

Text

Make Love, Not Porn

Sunday

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

wc: 6.7k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, subby/service top!hyunjin, softdom!camgirl reader, dry humping, oral (m, f), piv, camming, consensual recording, can't immediately think of anything else, let me know if I missed something!

Past Broadcasts : Hi, My Name Is

Live : Sunday

☆ﾟ

Hyunjin didn’t realize how much he liked being filmed, and photography in general. He seems to have picked up a knack for the hobby once the two of you started to get more comfortable. After the first night the two of you had sex, he began to be more conscious of all the recordable moments, from your puffy morning face to the cum dripping from the corner of your mouth.

You didn’t mind it at all, he was cute about it. Hyunjin had you send him the video you took together after you edited out the extra time at the end when the two of you had long forgotten about it. Never in a million years would he admit to anyone that he watches it more frequently than someone ever should watch their own amateur porn videos, for some reason it’s a comfort video of sorts. He likes hearing the way you laugh after the both of you cum, he likes seeing the way you handle him so carefully and how supple your skin looks because he knows it is.

Even though you’re still doing your streams, you still make time for him. Usually that time happens to be right after you’re done, Hyunjin on the bed watching as you pleasure yourself. The heat of his stare hasn’t dulled in the slightest. In fact, it’s brought your on-camera orgasms back. It’s all the more exhilarating knowing that none of your viewers can see his stupidly handsome face ogling you with a hand around his cock, hard only for you.

That routine had set itself in stone after a month went by, which is why you were comfortable when he asked if he could use your computer to look up a recipe to print.

“Why can’t you use your phone? It has bluetooth,” you suggested initially.

“Y’know the preview screen? I like to read it to make sure that all the information is on there. I can’t do that on my phone,” Hyunjin replied.

It made sense at the time, that’s why you agreed to let him use the computer in your showroom, the same one you use for your livestreams. Never in a million years did you think you’d catch him sitting in your chair with his pants around his ankles jerking off to the same video that sparked his interest in filming.

The first thing you checked was that the light near the computer camera was off and that he wasn’t accidentally live, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth seeing the light off. There was a fat grin across his face, sweaty and more than relaxed in your chair. On the monitor was the image of you on your knees just as he tensed up and from what you could tell, orgasmed. The look of surprise on your face as you caught him had him cumming into his palm, as if he wasn’t in your house, sitting in your chair, using your computer. It didn’t even seem like he cared that he got caught– spoiler, he really didn’t care.

Hyunjin was incomparably comfortable around you and in your little bubble. There wasn’t anything he didn’t think he could talk to you about. All of the little things and kinks he thought were strange, you accepted with open arms. Getting caught jacking off to a video of you giving him head was probably one of the least strange things on that small list.

You had gotten down on your knees again and sucked him through to a second orgasm, not an entirely uncommon occurrence now that he was a semi-permanent resident in your heart and apartment. He had hunched over you, one hand on the back of your head keeping you in place as you deepthroated his cock, the other, from what you could tell, slammed onto the desk above you and gripping onto it for dear life. It was your big pretty eyes and the small hum onto his cock that made him cum again, another one so hard that he didn’t notice his hand sliding across the desk roughly and hitting your keyboard, which then slammed into the mouse. Of course you couldn’t hear the sound of the cam site’s whooshing as the same video that played in the background was also being uploaded onto your page.

Creatures of habit, the both of you were, sharing a shower and eating dinner together still wrapped in your bath robes with towels wrapping your sopping hair. Neither of you had checked your phone in maybe two hours when you finally realized there was an incessant pinging noise coming from your showroom. It had reminded Hyunjin that his phone was nearby and reached to check it before you finally stood to go find out what was happening.

“When did you post a new video?” He asked, shaking the towel into his hair. You shrugged without looking back, on to find the source of the annoying notifications.

Your computer was still on, red flag number one.

Red flag number two, your keyboard and mouse were askew all over your desk. Your first instinct was that someone broke into your apartment while you were showering and they were hacking your account– it does, afterall, have your bank account info so that the tips can go directly into it.

But as you sat down to look at what was going on, you would rather have been robbed. Mouth dropped and heart thumping out of your chest, replaying on your cam page was the video of you between Hyunjin’s knees and head bobbing up and down with his quiet moans echoing in the computer speakers.

Just as you realized what had happened, your partner in said video fumbled into the door way and held up his phone. You couldn’t see the screen from that far, but you knew exactly what he was referring to.

“I didn’t–”

“You wouldn’t–”

“I don’t know what happened–”

“When the fuck did it get uploaded?” Hyunjin strode by your side and leaned over your desk to check the timestamp. You watched his face and prepared for any kind of anger, readying for the worst, bracing for impact that he was going to fight to take the video down then grab his shit and hyperdrive right out of your life. Instead, his eyebrows relaxed and a kind of smug half smirk took over his expression. “Oh, my bad, hahaha.”

You raised a brow at him, nothing but dumbfounded. “What?”

“Well,” he rubbed the towel into his hair again. “You were under the desk, so you couldn’t really see.”

“You posted it when your dick was in my mouth?”

“Not on purpose!” Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your neck in a headlock to smother his cheek against yours. “I can’t really focus when your mouth is so warm, wet, sloppy, delicious–”

“Ew, I get it!” Giggling, he pecked your lips then gestured for you to stand up so he could take your seat, patting his thighs to sit in his lap. A light pout on your lips, you took the offer and slung an arm over his shoulder.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were slightly embarrassed at how easy it was for you to get caught like this. Nothing has ever happened in all your time of camming that would have made you feel so exposed. It was a private moment that you assured him was for your eyes only. Embarrassed was a nice way of putting it, you were ashamed, guilty, remorseful even.

“I have to take it down,” you shook your head and reached for the mouse, but Hyunjin stopped you by intertwining your fingers together. “What? You didn’t agree to this. I promised it was just for us. I’m so sorry.” There was a lump in your throat, having to swallow it down while fighting the tears wanting to roll.

Hyunjin seemed unphased, maybe even… enjoying it? He was smiling into your shoulder. “Why are you making that face? I’m crying and you look like you just got away with murder.”

He took a second to respond, laughing softly into the bathrobe you wore. “Stop it! I need to take it down!” He fought you harder as you struggled in his grasp to even reach the mouse, arms slithering around and restricting you entirely with hardly any force as he was just that much stronger.

When you finally calmed down enough for him to lightly nose at your cheek again, you huffed. “I dunno, babe. Is it really so bad if we keep it up?”

You stopped fighting him back, “you wanna keep it up?” Hyunjin shrugged shyly.

“A little. Look, other people like it, too.” He reached around you to scroll through the comments.

Reading your comment section was usually a highlight that you saved for some down days. The ones under your video with him was even more ego-boosting than usual. There were keyboard smashes, people asking when they can have a turn with you cus he looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, even legit offers in your inbox for higher level filming services. Hyunjin would scroll, point to one, and you’d giggle in his lap.

— sexy wuts his @?

— sounds so good with her mouth stuffed

— i want him?? i want her?? u guys need a third??

“Look at this one, ‘I’d pay for a silicone mold of sweetheart’s mouth.’”

Hyunjin grabbed your chin and made you twist to face him, opening your mouth to look inside as you wiggled your tongue. “Yup. Could definitely make money selling a pocket if it was shaped like this wonderful, glorious, gummy—“

“You’re disgusting! I don’t even think that’s possible.”

“Yeah, you’d swallow the molding, you’re too good at that.”

The light smack you sent to his shoulder made him smile and cheekily kiss you. It was like he was starved for kisses with how intensely he moved, far from the truth as possible. Hand slipping to cup your cheek and the other slyly moving the robe to expose your thigh enough that it made you pull away and raise and eyebrow. “You really don’t wanna take the video down?”

Hyunjin scrunched his nose, “hell no. It kinda makes me wanna… Should I make my own account?”

Your face lit up, “really?” Another shrug. “I mean, you’ve already got a few fans and they’re asking for more. But babe, it could be a lot. Are you sure?”

“Maybe? I haven’t really thought about it. It wasn’t even an idea in my head until I saw the comments. But I do like taking videos and pictures. I’m not totally sure I could do the live stream stuff like you. Gotta leave you sooome business.”

“I don’t think you should jump right into it, maybe dip your toes in first before hopping in the deep end. Would you wanna try guesting on my stream first?”

“Like, actually be on your live?!”

You forgot how the two of you met in the first place, that he recognized you because he was a fan of your cams. Not for a second did you stop to think that it might’ve been weird because everything with him happened so naturally. Well, he did make it weird at first, and truly had you anxious to even go to the grocery store– but that was because you were too in your head about being recognized in the first place. When you actually spoke to him, you realized that’s just him and his awkward way of showing his emotions. You didn’t doubt for a second that even if he didn’t recognize you, he would’ve found a way to wriggle into your life at some point in time. Part of you mentally slapped yourself for not going to his coffee shop sooner.

“Why not? Then you don’t have to start alone,” you wriggled free to wrap an arm around his neck again. “For me, I contemplated it for months. I can’t remember when I started, it was so long ago–”

“I think it’s been, like, almost a year and a half.”

You lightly slapped the back of his neck, “don’t interrupt me, I’m trying to be sincere.” A peck on your cheek as an apology. “But it was scary at first. Remember what I said about intimacy the first time I brought you back here?”

Silence.

“You can speak now.”

“How could I forget? That’s permanent spank bank material. Stored in the mental vault for when you’re not with me.” Charming as ever.

You rolled your eyes. “It feels like that. Instead of one person watching, it’s a whole audience.” If the twitch beneath your thighs was anything to go by, you’d say the look on his face was a nearly identical giveaway. “The offer stands if you wan–”

“I want to.”

After a long, detailed discussion, you finally agreed your next livestream would be the night, and you got him naked. Or— you finally let him get naked. Hyunjin was still in his underwear, but it was enough for him.

You moved things around so that the camera faced the bed, adjusting the tripod to a lower angle so that no faces could show. For this special occasion, you put on dainty white sheets that made the bed feel bigger on this end of the camera. Hyunjin adjusted the lighting for a warmer feeling, inviting. That alone made you want to skip the broadcast and fuck him right then and there.

Hyunjin was shaking in his skin with excitement. You told him to lay back and try to relax as you set everything up. Seeing you walking around in pretty little lingerie was getting him antsier as the seconds passed, wanting nothing more than to reach out, grab you, and kiss you silly.

He was leaning back on his palms and swinging his feet back and forth as you finished, last touch being turning the computer so if you wanted, you could watch yourselves.

You were bent over and reading the comments of the people in the live stream waiting room, “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: sunday.” The stare burning holes into your ass made you giddy and smile.

“Everyone in the comments is confused since I don’t usually go live today,” you giggle, straightening up and facing the boy in your bed. He looked extra handsome, for some reason, more than usual. Maybe it was the hormones or the anticipation, probably your insatiable need to have him all the fucking time. Even if today didn’t go as planned and you don’t have sex, you’d be content with just laying beside him and getting to look at his pretty face.

“I would be, too. Can I have a kiss now?”

“Impatient.” You gave him one anyway, slotted between his spread knees to lean down and plant a soft, velvety kiss to his lips. Hyunjin slid a beneath your butt to hold you close, the other gripped onto your hip restraining from doing more before the camera was finally turned on. He wanted to go further as his tongue licked at your bottom lip in asking for entrance, a whine emitting when you pulled away to deny the request.

“You can always back out. At any time. You don’t have to say anything, just get up and leave.”

Hyunjin wasn’t listening to anything you were saying, you could tell by the glossy-eyed look he had as you brushed his hair from his face. His eagerness was contagious, you were on the verge of leaning in to kiss him again because of your own selfish needs, however the pinging of your computer’s five minute warning made you glance back before continuing.

“I’m serious, Hyune. We don’t have to do this. Tell me now and I’ll cancel the live.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He teased, tugging you tighter.

“I do this for a living, I’m fine. I just don’t want you to regret any—“

Within a quick second, he pulled you to fall into his lap to be taken in with a deeper, hotter kiss that made you forget that there was a timer counting down his showcase. “Okay, I’ll shut up now.”

A minute and thirty seconds, you straightened yourself out and settled into a more comfortable position for the introduction. That was going to be the hardest part, explaining the video that was accidentally posted and now, this brand new guest that wasn’t even another streamer. Hyunjin was an unknown— either the reaction was going to be through the roof, or astronomically terrible.

Fourth five seconds, you anxiously changed positions again and had him scoot a little further back on the bed to sit between his legs. Instinctively Hyunjin leaned his chest onto your back, draping an arm around your waist. “Relax, we’ll be okay.”

We.

3, 2, 1. hardcandysweetheart, you are now live!

“Hey there, did you see my little surprise?”

There was another twitch in his pants against your lower back, you silenced your own panting lungs, the small action more than enough to soothe the worries you had.

“I think you liked it, so much that I just had to invite him back for more.” Your body moved slightly to the side and made room for Hyunjin to wave. As he did, you leaned in to quietly place a reassuring kiss to his cheek, to which he returned happily.

You could faintly make out the comments scrolling by faster than you could attempt to read. “You’re excited, huh? It’s been a while since there’s been someone I wanted to bring on. This one’s special.” His hand massaged into your side, acknowledging the passing words and his heart thumping harder.

Hyunjin almost forgot that you were livestreaming, more than immersed in your voice that he fell into some sort of trance, hearing but not listening, relying purely on what he could see and feel. And that was you. His gaze only on you, unable to look anywhere else as that spell had goosebumps raising along his skin when you did nothing but touch his thigh.

“Look at that, I think he’s more than ready to go. Practically drooling, aren’t you, baby?”

“Mhm,” he nuzzled his nose into your cheek, trying to hold back from his usual affections so as not to give too much away so quickly, and finding it difficult.

“He’s very obedient,” your voice lowered an octave, reaching back to cup his cheek and trail a finger down his neck to his chest, a red line following the same path. “Like a pet. Just follows me around, wherever I go.” Hyunjin whimpered, just a little, but enough for the audio to pick it up. “Hey now, be good for our guest. No begging.”

He kissed your cheek again, an apology.

Turning your attention back to the comments, “so sorry, lovely. I wanna ask you how your day went, but someone is a little too enthusiastic to get started. I hope you don’t mind, I’m still training him. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” he responded softly.

“His voice is so pretty. I know you’ll enjoy tonight’s stream, maybe even as much as I do.”

Your legs spread, hooking them over his knees and leaning back into his hold. Hyunjin’s hands started roaming everywhere they could, emphasizing his neediness by digging his fingers into the insides of your thighs and pulling them that much wider. Automatically they trickled their way down to your center, gently running the pads of his fingers over the gusset of your underwear. Even you could tell, it was incredibly wet, the aroma of your arousal filling the room.

Glancing at the monitor, his frame overshadowed yours by what seemed like miles. Hyunjin’s broad shoulders shielded your back and you couldn’t help but relax further into him.

Hardly even there, he pushed into your center, drawing a small gasp from your lips. The small circles he traced sparked the need to buck your hips up and into him.

His mistake for laughing, you slapped his hand away to stand and shove him back onto the bed. The view of your ass covered his face from showing, but if watchers could see, they’d see him teething at his lip to hold back a victorious smile, as if it was his plan all along to get you to bite back. Hyunjin raked his eyes up and down your body before putting his hands behind his head.

Another strike.

“You think you’re gonna get to sit there like a pillow princess? D’you really think I’m gonna do all the work?”

The smile faded faster than it came.

Climbing onto his lap and straddling his hips, the camera got the perfect shot of your soaked crotch and the underside of his raging boner twitching in his underpants even more when you slammed both your hands onto the bed on either side of his head. Hyunjin flinched, but he wasn’t scared. More like turned on beyond belief.

“Little pet,” one finger tipped up his chin to close his awestruck dropped jaw. He could feel the heat of your cunt radiating through the wet material, suffocating in it when your hips softly landed right on top of his cock. Even through both of your underwear, the feeling of you on him was enough to turn the tables and he rut up into you.

The nickname, the finger lightly scratching under his jaw, everything down to the intonation when you spoke to him made Hyunjin forget there was a camera on the both of you. Aside from the very obvious seriousness of the act of sex itself and every other time the two of you had been together, this moment felt intensely more intimate. He couldn’t quite put his finger on as to why that was. The concerns you voiced before echoed in the back of his mind, though there wasn’t a single doubt that he had in wanting to continue.

The small fact that you cared enough to keep asking and keep reassuring that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want, made his entire body heat up. Sure, the bar was on the floor. But it wasn’t just this one instance, you were persistent in making sure he was comfortable, and Hyunjin was grateful that the sentiment was returned in his efforts to help you learn about your own relationship needs outside of sex. Such a miniscule thing to be in love with, but it was his deal breaker. Call him a simp, but you had his balls tied in a heart shaped knot.

You sat on top of him with an almost unimpressed look, letting him continue to hump against your warm cunt. Determination clouded the horniness as you tilted your head. The truth was that that alone felt remarkably good, keeping up the facade was one of the hardest things you had to do. To fight the impulse to moan, you steadied yourself and sat up straight, looking down at Hyunjin while his hands iron gripped onto your hips. The strength he held onto you almost was close to toppling you over.

Instead, you gave in just a little and sat fully. Hyunjin’s tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth, adjusting his knees and bumping you up to stabilize himself as the dragging of his covered cock slide against the wet friction of one another’s underwear. Sweat dripped down his temple and soaked his hairline, rolls of his hips took a full bodily effort. His abdomen moved in waves and gave you a preview of what it would look like when the underwear finally came off, delicious enough to rake your fingernails from his collarbone to his waistline, Hyunjin’s eyes rolling back as you did.

“Mmf– please, please,” he whimpered, becoming more erratic as the seconds passed. He dryly humped upwards so rough now that you were just about bouncing.

“Please what?” His hands slipped below the waistband of your panties and drug it half down your ass. “Use your words.”

“Fuck, need you.”

“Need me? Okay, pet.”

With that, you abruptly stood up– not without a barrage of pleas and whines– and made room for him to hurriedly slide off the bed and kneel on the floor in front of you as you took his spot. If he had a tail, it’d be swinging back and forth.

You checked the camera’s view just in case, but it saw nothing but the back of his head, at the most. As he told you in earlier discussion, he was fine with that. The view of his back muscles made your mouth water that much more as it contrasted with the puppy dog look he was giving you now, waiting.

“So polite, baby.” You had barely moved to slide off your underwear when Hyunjin jumped at the chance, rushing it down your legs and tossing it to expose your dripping core.

If it was even possible, his eyes widened to the point of total blackness, determination now tainted with the lust that had driven him to this point in the first place. He’d never realized this side of him ever existed, this carnal desire and rapacious thirst to be suffocated in every aspect by a single person. He wanted to consume each bit of you down to the bone. Pick you apart just so he could thoroughly examine and ingrain every nerve and fiber that made you whole. This intense feeling, he never wanted it to end.

His hair was soft as you ran your fingers through it, playing with it for the viewers to see how good he was, waiting for permission like a true pet companion. Tongue running along his lips, he palmed at himself again and shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

“Go on. You wanted me, so have me.”

Spreading your legs wider, you didn’t have to work very hard to get him to dive into you head first. He was so overly excited that he moaned at the first taste of your pussy, dragging his tongue uncoordinatedly while shoving himself as close to you as possible.

As soon as his tongue touched your clit, you figured it was time to forgo worrying about how the stream looked and just let yourself fall into the feeling. Hooking your legs over his shoulders let Hyunjin sink his teeth further into you, or, more like his tongue slipping further down to prod at your hole and circle it before entering. Even if it couldn’t reach far in, the wiggling motion had your head falling back and moaning out. Voicing how pleased you were made Hyunjin reciprocate and mumble into your swollen cunt, vibrating every inch.

Skin sensitive and needier than you wanted to let on, you were torn between satisfying yourself and putting him in his place.

But he was being good, the thought still crossed your mind no matter how well he was performing.

Being on live camera seemed to have sparked an even bigger submissive role Hyunjin wanted to fill, goading you into keeping a hand on the back of his head so that he had little room to breathe. As if he wanted to be put in his place.

Digging your heels into his back to secure him in place between your legs seemed to have given him the feeling he wanted– to be used.

Your hips canted into his mouth, not needing to chase his lips but wanting more of the suction, more of his tongue, more of the feeling. Like a freshly lit fire burning wildly in the center of your body and he was the dry wood and oxygen that kept it alive. Funny how that was when just looking at him takes your breath away.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms under your thighs to grip onto the tops of them, fingernails digging deeply into your skin to which you didn’t mind at all, the pain felt good with the pleasure. As you became louder, he did, too. His soft humming, lips suckling in your clit, tip of his tongue wiggling against it lightly as he did so, cumming was guaranteed as soon as he took your underwear off. And fuck, did it feel extra good.

Eye rolling, muscle tensing, vision blinding, chill inducing, voice numbing, leg twitchingly good.

You slouched over him as you came down, still partially aware of the green light blinking on your computer keeping you on camera. Hyunjin softly kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves to ease the comedown, mumbling what you think was praise when it should be you praising him for what was for sure his best round of head yet.

“I take it back,” you breathed out with a chuckle, and Hyunjin shot his head up to look at you with confusion. “I think I should put in some work for how amazing that just was.”

Hyunjin lopsidedly smirked, the view even cuter because your essence was smeared around his entire lower face.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. Maybe you don’t need as much training as I thought.”

You tapped his shoulder so he could scoot back and make room for you to stand. Hyunjin followed brief instructions to get onto the bed once more, laying down and ready for his underwear to finally come off. You rid yourself of the rest of your lingerie first, tossing the bra at him and laughing, just the littlest bit mocking when he brought it to his mouth to bite on. Stealing it away, you scolded, “nuh uh. I want them to hear you when I fuck you.”

“When you fuck me?”

The way you phrased it intimidated him a little, but also excited him. The prospect of getting fucked by you was something he’d never even thought would come out of your mouth let alone actually happen. He’d always thought that, traditionally, men should be the ones doing the fucking, that it was his job to cross that finishline with him putting in the effort. Hyunjin didn’t even know how this was a possibility, but he was more than ready for whatever you decided to do to him.

“Don’t worry, I’m saving the strap for another day. I don’t wanna scare you off so quickly.” All of that sentence and none of that sentence registered in his brain. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

Repressing the endeared smile on your face wasn’t an option. It was one of the rawest emotions you’d shown him yet, and being so open about it had Hyunjin’s heart doing somersaults into his belly, all of him fluttering on cloud nine.

Your body covering his entire body including his face from the camera, you kneeled onto the bed between his legs and hovered over him to finally kiss him. Really kiss him, the way he’d been craving all night. The kind of kiss that murmured the words your lips didn’t know how to, unconditional and safe, hands so delicately open as he placed his entire heart into them.

Amidst his mind being blown with just a kiss, you snaked your hand into the waistline of his underwear and dryly– aside from all the leaking precum– stroked him until he whined to rid them. Condom placed on the edge of the bed for convenience, you were gentle in rolling it on, gentle in maneuvering to toss one leg over his hip, and gentle in taking his left leg into the crook of your arm.

All across the board, Hyunjin was confused.

What in the hell kind of position was this? He had never seen you do this in any of your previous cams? Was there even a name for the pretzel he felt tied into? That’s an exaggeration, he’s just never been bent like this before. Now he gets how you must feel.

Your right thigh was locked under his to keep the position in something like a scissor looking kind. In his mind, it was odd, for sure. But he happily went with it because he knew you wouldn’t lead him anywhere he wouldn’t want to go.

One more soft, shared kiss, you scooted a bit higher up his body– straining his elevated leg a little because he didn’t think he needed to stretch beforehand– and settled directly over his aching cock. He hadn’t been properly touched since he’d gotten you completely naked and was in dire need of attention. Your hips dropped and he was sinking into you with nothing but slick and very much wanted entrance. Hyunjin felt strange, a wonderful and thrilling kind of strange that came from the new position and new atmosphere surrounding the both of you.

As you came to the hilt, he thought, “dear god, why didn’t you fuck me earlier?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you would like it this much.”

His eyes widened to realize that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. Hyunjin also didn’t realize how much time had passed since he had entered you and drool was dripping from the corner of his mouth. You didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

How could you be? You had an earth shattering orgasm and now got to fuck the most amazing and understanding person you know. And get to repay the favor with an extraordinary orgasm for him? You must have died and gone to heaven.

“Oh god, please keep going.”

An excited smirk, you experimentally moved your hips back and slid yourself off his cock, sinking back onto it as if you were the one penetrating. Hyunjin’s eyes rolled back and he groaned loudly. Music to your ears, you sped up just a little so that the bed rocked.

On your end, this was the ideal position. Every slide up and down his cock rubbed the under and inner part of your clit just the right way that you felt it in your legs. Hyunjin reached out to hold onto you, but couldn’t find the strength to hold on for very long before reaching a hand up to steady himself against the headboard.

You wanted more, needed more. Slinging his leg over your shoulder gave you more room to move freely, fuck him harder, faster until all that could be heard was skin on skin and wetness drowning his cock with every thrust. He loved everything about it and was doing whatever he could to suppress the impending high. Hyunjin wanted to cum, but didn’t want the moment to end even more.

“S– stop, stop,” he stuttered and held a hand out towards where your bodies connected. You cowered back and pulled him out in fear that he had changed his mind. Every negative thought you’d previously had about the situation came flooding back. That was, until he panted out a dreamy sigh, “don’t wanna cum yet. But please, fuck me harder.”

Endearing in every sense of the word.

“Because you said please.”

To give him a second to recuperate, you gently laid his leg back down and kissed his cheek. Then he gave you the okay once again, and changed to lifting both his legs around your waist. Hyunjin anticipatingly chuckled when you guided his cock to point a little more downward as you let him fill you, leaning your weight onto your arms that planted beside his head and letting him wrap his arms beneath the underside of your shoulders.

The steady rolls of your hips was exhilarating, scratching the itch that you didn’t know needed to be scratched, so satisfying that he face palmed himself for not thinking of it earlier.

You rested yourself on top of him so you were chest to chest, selfishly being a bit lazy because you wanted to taste his pretty lips once more. You knew the view for the stream was more than enough, probably too personal for Hyunjin’s first time camming, however he didn’t seem to mind. The camera being on was probably what made his senses skyrocket.

What a funny little attention whore.

You caught your rolling hips turning into harder slams, stronger and stronger with every slap of skin to skin. Hyunjin tightened his legs around your torso and kissed you back sloppier, uncoordinated as his high approached. He used the momentum of your movements to rut up to meet your center in time. Who was fucking who now, neither of you could tell nor care.

His unfiltered moans of euphoria were too cute to keep for yourself, pulling away from the kiss as he came nearer and nearer to the edge. By the time you’d felt the knot tightening in your belly, Hyunjin was summoning whatever self control he had left to not blow before you.

“‘M gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you whispered, letting your forehead fall into the crook of his neck and bite onto the supple skin. Messy and carelessly you fully weighted slammed your hips onto his as your cunt fluttered with the overflowing pleasure, sealing both your fates when you stopped entirely and let the pulsing within you milk you both for whatever you could collectively release. Hyunjin’s coarse voice filled the air as he fought the urge to say your real name, settling for unintelligible fibs while he filled the condom to the point of bursting. You couldn’t stop the convulsing of your hips that shallowly made you both shudder in overstimulation.

A ringing in your ears and warmth of his arms tightening around your waist, you wanted to shut your eyes and fall asleep just like this. But there was the growing sound of tips pinging to replace the previous adulterous noises and bring you both back to reality.

You kissed his chest before sitting up and kissing his lips, as delicately as possibly pulling away and letting him relax into the bed. The shaking in your legs made it almost impossible to turn and face your body towards the camera once more.

“What’d you think? Wasn’t his voice just to die for? Always so sweet.” Your eyes glazed over the rapidly scrolling comment section, unable to focus long enough to truly read any of them. Hyunjin didn’t even move, probably worn down to the bone. “I think our guest enjoyed himself. I know I surely did, and I hope you did, too, lovely. Let me know what you think, should he join us again some time? Maybe it’s time to wash up. Take care, lovely. Until next time.” You waved your fingers, paused a second, and ended the live with the comments still rolling. Not in the right mind to read them, you put your computer to sleep and crawled into bed beside the dozing man.

Hyunjin fought to keep his eyes open, too exhausted for his own good. You looked him up and down to assess his state– condom still on so you helped take it off him, limbs bent and tired as you assisted in stretching them to lay flat. The last step was taking him into your actual bed. No way were you letting him sleep in this icky, sweaty bed.

“No shower yet, Hyune. Just bed. Can I help you up?” He hazily nodded and allowed you to drape his arm over your shoulder so you could guide him back to your bedroom.

As soon as you had him beneath the covers and his head hit the pillow, he softly mewled and reached his arms out for you to take your rightful place within them. Then, he was out like a light.

Soft snores and his heartbeat were all you could hear. There was nothing else you deemed worth the effort to think other than, people are only temporary for as long as they choose to be.

He couldn’t be more excited, the pleaser he is, Hyunjin was shaking in his skin as he watched the timer count down the seconds.

“Relax, baby. I’ll be right here if you need me,” you leaned back into your chair that sat out of sight of the camera, half naked as well to make it less nerve wracking. Phone in hand to monitor all of the comments of the people in the waiting room, this was a highly anticipated event in your extremely small circle. This was everything and anonymously nothing, but thrilling either way. “Have fun.”

Hyunjin weighed his options between the thirty seconds he had left and the need to get one more kiss. He chose the latter, skipping up to you and taking in your lips with unexaggerated passion. “For good luck.”

3, 2, 1. i.scream.sundae, you are now live!

“Oh, hello. Have we met before?”

☆ﾟ

A/N: unsure of the positions within the story? look here!

and that's it for this mini series! took me so fucking long to finish but ya know life happens. hope it was ehh maybe worth it. thank you for reading!

tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky @karivm

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elli3luvs · 1 year

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OMG CRYBABY READER X ELLIE PLZFNSHXJSJXM

a/n: i am... a crybaby so this is near and dear to my heart! cant help it i cry at everything!!!!! it's pretty short sorry about that!

cw: slight smut!

she really didn't know what to do when she saw the tears begin to well up in your eyes

it shocked her every time (even though it shouldn't by now)

when she saw the tears welling up in your eyes, panic started to creep into her system

ellie was just kind of awkward with things like this

at first, she would shuffle around kinda trying to figure out what to do

then she would awkwardly side hug you as the tears fell freely down your face

her hands would interlock on her lap as you spewed about whatever was making you cry

whenever you would finally look up, you would have to swallow a laugh at the way her eyes were widened and her mouth open

she tried so hard to figure out what to say but nothing would ever come out

just a stuttered mess

but since the two of you have been together for a longer period of time ellie knows what to do

albeit, she is still awkward just not as bad

she immediately drops everything, talking in a soft voice, "what's wrong baby? do you wanna talk about it?"

your lip wobbles at how sweet she is being, "saw a deer with her baby... i just... ellie, i can't." you shove your head into her chest, letting yourself relish in this emotion

she truly has to stifle her laugh because it does amuse her a little bit

it's just little things that set you off

ellie finds it extremely endearing though

the way your eyes get kind of red and hazy

the tip of your nose turns red

she loves it

her absolute favorite, though, is when you are under her, tears streaming down your face as her fingers trace your inside

she has to hold one of your thighs open with her spare hand

her thumb circles your clit tightly while she shushes you, "sh, sh, sh... it's okay, baby. you feel good?"

you nod your head, legs shaking as the pleasure builds up, "so good, ells."

it makes her feel so proud

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie headcanons #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut

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komotionlessqueenmm · 8 months

Text

Imagine # 1,056

Gif NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

Rating - SFW

Length - Short AF

*This one's is just really silly, so don't take anything seriously.

Homelanders ears perked up at the sound of (Y/n) whimpering. And without saying a word to Ashley he exited the conference room in a hurry. Initially he thought maybe she was pleasuring herself, or worse cheating on him. But as he neared the door to his apartment, he began to worry that she was in fact hurt. So he barged into the apartment, and made a beeline for his bedroom. Where he found her curled up in his bed, crying her little human heart out. Without even realizing it, tears began to stream down his own face as he observed her. And it wasn't until she noticed him, and hiccuped out his name, that he crossed the room and joined her in the bed. He pulled her into his arms, and they cried their hearts out together. "Why are we crying right now?" Homelander asked hiccuping a little at the end. "I don't kn-ow!" (Y/n) practically wailed as tears continued to stream down her face. Homelander whined at her words before nuzzling into her hair. "What happened?" He sniffled, unable to stop the tears from falling, no matter how hard he tried. "N-nothing I just." She hiccuped again, trying to calm down. "I jus-t started crying and now I ca-n't stop." She wept as she clung to him for dear life. He kissed the crown of her head, still trying to calm down. "Oh baby." He cooed softly through his unrelenting tears. "I-I'm sorry." She whimpered into his chest, and in return he simply held her a little tighter. "Angel." He murmured as he tilted her head up, fat tears rolling down both of their cheeks. "I love you." He whispered before leaning in to kiss her chapped lips, whimpering at the taste of their tears that mixed together, as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

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jinchuls-moved · 4 months

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𝙸𝚗 𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

╰┈➤ prince!sakusa kiyoomi x princess!reader

about ≡ a love that felt timeless comes to a halt; the man in front of you isn’t him but you don’t know here he has gone.

ANGST — 5.3k

MASTERLIST ≡ NEXT

divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time you saw him you were only a young child, as the only daughter–the only child–of the king’s closest confidant, you learnt of your engagement to the young prince as soon as you were of an age to understand what would be expected of you.

You stood in front of him, confident and proud; proving to him, to yourself and, most of all, to your mother you were worthy of the title that would one day be passed on to you.

Just children, finding their fates intertwined by forces they could not control and their betrothal that would not only impact their families, but the lives of each and every subject of Itachiyama, as your mother often put it.

From then on, you were forced to endure your mother’s lessons and unbearable pressure. Teaching you of all the expectations that will be placed on you in addition to her own that weighed down on your heart.

Time felt as though it slowed, day by day passing as your mother and various tutors join you in a study, bombarding you with the history of the family you are to wed into; etiquette lessons to become more accustomed to the manner in which you’d be expected to act as a royal. And, those you enjoyed the least, lessons in embroidery. Pricks of the needle into your fingertips, sloppy threadwork you weren’t certain would ever improve all whilst feeling berated by your mother as “a lady should be able to do this with ease.”

Months of lessons stretch to years, from etiquette and embroidery to each and every aspect you needed in order to become the best queen you could, even if that role was far in your future. Through it all, there was something that made the passing of time more bearable.

The blissful, peaceful days you could have with Sakusa by your side.

What had begun as forced, uncomfortable meetings, sharing tea under the watchful gaze of your mother, had turned into something you’d often look forward to. Exploring the palace grounds as children, taking a wrong turn one day and finding the new place of your ever more frequent encounters.

Starting with standing in the ankle-deep stream that ran along the left of the clearing, crystal clear water, that looked more than refreshing; evolving to basking in the sun in the heat of summer, sneaking pitchers of juice and snacks away from the maids before they’d notice the two of you, or the food, had gone missing. And, as the two of you grew into near adults—as your social debut, and your wedding approached—the clearing became the one place the two of you could forget the duties sitting heavy on your shoulders.

Under the weeping willow, shielded from everything outside, you’d sit with Sakusa’s head resting on your lap, gentle strokes through his hair, occasionally tracing your finger between the beauty marks on his forehead. The soft, sweet movements relieve him of all stress haunting him.

It was times like these where his princely nature, the vision the public had of him, would fumble and you would gain confidence to speak in ways you’d never let another witness as you gently ran your fingers through the curls of his hair, you studied the delicate features of his face as he closed his eyes, almost falling asleep with you as his pillow.

“What burdens you, My Dear?” He spoke up, eyes remaining closed. “I can feel the way you stare.” Now opening his eyes, his gaze meets yours, a soft frown on his face as he misinterpreted your silence as something worse.

“Nothing burdens me.” You smile, “I was simply thinking how much more enjoyable my time is when it is spent with you.”

He grins in return, lips faltering as he tries to hide his embarrassment, evident by the faint pink that adorns his cheeks. “I feel the same,” Sakusa whispers, reaching up to loosen your fingers from his curls and lacing his between yours. Bringing your hand closer, he places a soft kiss on your skin. “And, I must say. Though we had little choice, I am glad you are my betrothed.”

A sweet moment, one you had begun to cherish from the moment it occurred, or at least would have if it were not the final time you found the joy of his company and the clearing hand in hand. In fact, until the night of the ball hosted to celebrate his 18th birthday, you wouldn’t see him again.

You hadn’t thought much of it, assuming his responsibilities had made him too busy to make time for you, as it did occasionally. You find yourself missing him; waiting for the moment you could see him again, relaxed, under that oak tree but you have no luck until you’re attached to his arm, his partner as always, and waiting for the grand doors to open and your arrival to be announced to those lucky enough to receive an invitation.

They open and you can hear the faint music grow louder as you take your place at the top of the extravagant, and aggravatingly long, staircase allowing the guests time to lower their heads not only for the man at your side but the king and queen who had stepped in alongside you and, one day, they would do the same for you.

The music does not stop until you reach the bottom of the stairs as you wait for the king to announce the official beginning of the celebration; to wish his son well on the day intended to honour him. His speech comes to an end and the music brings the hall back to life. You’re pulled into idle chatter by those around you, some wanting to know of your well-being or your family’s, others solely interested in forming a connection with the future leaders of their kingdom.

Through it all, you simply wished for a moment of peace and an opportunity to escape. Yet another thing you’d learnt you shared with Sakusa: your distaste for expectation and attention.

You endure it for as long as you can, taking Sakusa’s hand as he requests your first dance, standing alongside your mother at the edge of the ballroom floor as Sakusa entertains each noble that approaches him. It seems like forever passes before you’re able to be beside him again, once more pulled into the centre of the floor (a result of your mother’s persistent pestering). You tell yourself there’s one more dance, a few more minutes of your time taken with everyone’s eyes locked onto the pair of you, an action you were sure you’d one day become accustomed to but, until then, you were left comforted by Sakusa’s words–encouraging you through each step.

Minute by minute, the night passes slowly—only enjoyable in the moment you find yourself hand in hand with Sakusa as he leads you through one of, what feels like, the hundreds of dances you had practiced all your life. His soft, gentle hands holding yours as though you were made of porcelain; as though one wrong move would shatter you in seconds.

Two or three dances pass—your movements seem to blend into the music, your focus only on him—you lose track of the time as the busy, political, intended nature of the ball. Leaving the dance floor, still hand in hand, you expect Sakusa to bid you farewell and mingle amongst those that will benefit him greatly once he is coronated.

But he never lets go. He never stops moving. He never looks back.

Pulling you from the vast ballroom you find yourself in the corridors of the palace, one’s you know well but ones that felt much different, more intimate now you were lead by your betrothed until you reach the beautiful glass doors that lead one of many balconies looking over the palace garden.

“What will people think?” You laugh, allowing him to pull you into the cold—he wastes no time in ridding himself of his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders. “The guest of honour hiding from his own celebration, taking a woman with him no less.” Fingers taking hold of the collars, you pull your covering closer. The familiar scent of him filling your nose.

“Taking his fiancé with him.” Sakusa corrects, leaning against the balcony rails as the cold breeze swims in the air. He looks beautiful as the wind disheveles every perfectly placed hair.

“We are yet to marry, there is still room for scandal.” He chuckles, staring down at the view of the garden. Making your way beside him everything feels right. The world you had been born to be part of, trained in your youth for and yearning for since you felt you heart beat only for him. It may have never been your choice, but the life expected of you didn’t seem too bad when Sakusa was going to be there with you.

“I can think of a worse scandal soon to be exposed.” Turning your head to him, you raise an eyebrow in your confusion. “The prince’s fiancé makes no attempt to congratulate him on his birthday.” A smile comes to your face at his teasing joke, turning to face him and taking a small step back. Your hand comes to your dress, pulling it out as you prepare yourself for a curtsy. Bowing your head you begin the official congratulations you’re assuming he’s expecting.

“I wish His Highness-” he raises his hand to stop you before you’re able to so much as bow.

“Not like that.” He whispers, taking a step towards you and gracefully wrapping his arms around your waist. Pulling you close he waits for you to talk.

Feeling the warmth emanating from his body, you’re suddenly painfully aware of the distance between you he’s shrunk. The cold chill in the air feels like nothing against the burning of your embarrassment coursing through you until you find yourself lost in the moment, meeting his eyes with your shy glance. “Kiyoomi.” You whisper, pushing a hand to his chest–he makes no effort to move. “This isn’t-” He watches you as you struggle to find the words becoming more flustered as each second passes. You look away, unable to keep your gaze on his, instead choosing to focus on the balcony railings and the stretch of the garden barely illuminated under the palace lights. “We are yet to be wed.” You remind him once more, tone as confident as you can muster.

“Will your reputation be tarnished by a single act no one is a witness to?” A guiding finger rests under your chin, luring you to look his way again. “I simply wish to hear your congratulations today.”

His fingers move gently against your skin, soft for the most part but the rough calluses forming rubbed against your skin, making you wish they could remain soft for the comfort of his caresses.

“Happy birthday, Kiyoomi.” Your voice is barely audible, only reaching his ears and, had it not been for the silence of the balcony, he may not have been blessed by the quiet embarrassment in your voice he’d grown to favour.

“I believe I may now call it so.” He whispers back through his grin, relishing in your initial shock as he closes the gap between the two of you, catching you in a kiss—your first—that would certainly trigger another lecture on your social reputation from your mother. If she were to find out.

It was magical; everything you had dreamt of. Perfect. Had you known what was coming, you would have savoured the moment longer.

Mere weeks later, to the surprise of everyone, the news comes that sits a weight on your heart that you can’t hold—the kingdom is at war and the prince must lead his army to victory. And you are left alone.

Your only solace is found in the frequent letters you’d share, his less detailed than yours—saving you from the horrors he was experiencing and only sharing what little could be considered ‘good’ on the battlefield. Small anecdotes; stories about his men and his queries into how you are. There seemed to be and endless amount to talk about and the letters were frequent enough to keep you enthralled with him.

Until they weren’t.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months and word soon stopped. No matter how much you longed to hear from him; no matter how often you sent letters of your own you heard nothing. You fear the worst, fear his death came too soon and that you were going to be the last to find out; you wonder if his parents would even feel the need to tell you. And if he wasn’t, was he captured? Was he in danger? Did his men fail to keep him safe?

How were you to ever find out?

Maybe you were never supposed to. Maybe this was how you were to find out the truth of his feelings towards you and that he’d stopped entertaining your painfully obvious childish infatuation. You could only assume so when his mother mentions, in passing, that he’s grown more into his role over the years if she was perceiving his letters correctly.

His silence was for you and you only and it shatters you. You’re left heartbroken and with a hundred questions but the one lingering on your mind the most is why? Why spend your life concerned for a man that appears to have to care for you?

You wish you could say it never bothered you and had never left you sleepless as you thought of every part of your childhood that had you falling for him in the first place. And, perhaps, with a little more time, you would have found a way to heal. Perhaps if you hadn’t heard from him again you could have felt normal.

His final letter comes as a surprise; you read it again and again, eyes scanning each word as if there was a hidden message behind them; as if something would jump from the paper and scream the truth of all that you had missed–all that he had kept from you.

But nothing came, just the words that felt as though they had no care behind them; no explanation as to why his letters had stopped. Simply a small letter, a paragraph that held nothing more than the words scrawled on the page, that you doubted he had even written himself, stating your wedding would be held in three days–leaving you no time to process that he was back. The time you had spent mourning him; crying to Kiyoko as the thought of losing him broke you.

Instead, you found yourself thrown into preparations and, with your lack of interest in the wedding painfully obvious to everyone but your overexcited mother, you feel as though there’s no time to breathe as flower arrangements, invitations and dress fittings are forced on you with no room allowed for your own opinions.

The days pass slowly, you’re overwhelmed and waiting for the end of the night when you can crawl into bed or finally release the build-up of emotions to an increasingly worried Kiyoko as she stood, brushing through your hair and encouraging you to tell her the truth. After witnessing it all, the months of missing him; the way you broke at the loss of contact and the anger you had felt when he resurfaced, she was unprepared to let you burden yourself with the weight of the kingdom’s expectations.

Especially as the night before the wedding falls.

You cling to Kiyoko as she held you tight, your head rested on her lap as she gently stroked your hair—her futile attempt to soothe you. Every wail from you leaves her shattered and the letter, the blaster letter, sit torn to shreds at your feet. Ripping it apart in a haste as Kiyoko opened your doors, you fell into a state of despair.

Tomorrow was the day of your dreams but reality felt like much more of a nightmare.

It’s a miracle your home isn’t awoken by your heartbreak but no one else comes or they simply don’t care enough to stop the once thing that benefits even the lowest of employees in your family home. Why should they step in just because you felt pain?

“I can’t!” You cry. You must, you think—the protests fall from your lips as you lose yourself in the spiral your mind has become, Kiyoko’s efforts to calm you are useless. She’s left with nothing to do but wait for you to exhaust yourself—which comes soon—only then is she able to gentle tuck you into bed again ignoring the painful pant of her own heart as she yearns for a way to get you out of your forced destiny. Yet, all she can do is stay at your side and bring you some sort of familiarity to the life you’re dreading.

It’s a restless night, tossing and turning in a light sleep that wakes you frequently. You stare at the ceiling, hoping sleep will take you once more as the birds chirp and the world awakens. If an escape is not possible, just a few more minutes of sleep will be preferable.

Puffy-eyed, throat sore, and filled with dread, you wake the next morning to the room filling with maids, more than you had ever been used to seeing, and your mother pushing her way in determined to oversee every last detail of the preparation. Since you woke up that morning, you hadn’t had a single chance to breathe.

Your mother, someone who had always been considered a respectable woman, pulled you to your feet with a childish grin on her face, pushing you from the comfort and warmth of your covers to one of her employees, whose name she certainly had never bothered to learn.

Rushed onto your feet, the only chance you have to breathe is the short time you have away from your mother–that you wished would stretch longer–sat in the warmth of your bathtub and allowing yourself just a few minutes to relax before you’re thrown into the fire burning in your home.

Your mother stands amongst the maids as you return, insisting on every last detail of your hair and clothing; ignoring the few requests you’d had just a few days beforehand. But you move past it quickly, those few requests weren’t important to either of you, your mother wanted this day to be perfect; it had to fit the image she had in her mind whereas you would had preferred nothing at all or, since you had no choice, something much less extravagant than all that had been planned.

You’re more than ready for it to end the second it begins, you’re being tugged from side to side as the maids (not so) delicately pull your hair into the intricate style your mother is insisting on, she’s quick to slap the back of your hand as you complain, reaching to alter the curl your mother seems to love–she’s telling you to remain still; accusing you of ruining the day before it had even began.

So, you’re left with no choice. You sit, having your head pulled from side to side under your mother's orders; you share a look with your lady-in-waiting through the mirror praying there was something either of you could do to stop the hell you’re about to subject yourself to—as though either of you could stop the dictator making her orders.

You lose track of the time you’re spent as your mother’s living doll, having your breath stolen as the corset is tightened around you with the order of “a little more” and your ignored protests. Your arms are pulled left and right as you're pushed into the gown, leaving only makeup to be done.

You hope it won’t take as long as your mother makes it seem; with powder being slapped on your face and more instructions being tossed at the maids. There’s nothing you can do but sit and take everything thrown your way; you’re being led to the royal carriage before you realise it—you’re still not ready.

You’re not sure how many hours have passed since the moment you woke up but, now, the sun is beating down on you through the window of the carriage. It hurts your eyes, just a little bit, but you think that’s better than your attention being on your mother. She’s sat opposite you listing off her requirements and rules for the day—all boiling down to ‘don’t mess this up’. Ruining the day was practically impossible. You’d practiced a million times, you’d had nothing but lessons on palace etiquette and you’d memorised your agenda for the day years ago. Above all, it was once a day you dreamt of—once one that left your heart fluttering.

You were a robot programmed for this day and this day only. Ruining it was not an option.

She doesn’t stop talking until you reach the palace but you’re left with no time to feel the relief. You freeze for a moment, staring at the church that stood tall, staring down at you; taunting you. Even with only a few more moments until those doors opened, until you were expected to give the rest of your life to a man you no longer wanted in your memories, you hoped you’d receive one more message that would set you free. Instead, you take the step out of the carriage, feeling the never-changing watchful glare of your mother bore into your side even as she’s encouraged away, inside the building, with Kiyoko following behind her. Your silent beg for her to stay with you; your plead for her to stand beside you and offer you the only comfort you would receive that day, don’t go unnoticed but she has no choice but to follow after your mother, leaving you stood alone with nothing to do but wait for the sound of the organ and opening of the holy doors condemning you into a life you considered hell.

Left alone, time seems to stop. There’s an endless silence that envelopes you until you’re left restless, taunted by the wait hoping the tune will never start. You don’t fund yourself lucky. The grand doors slowly creak open, the music begins quietly, the volume rising as you come into view. You want the floor to swallow you whole as every guest stands and their attention is solely on you.

It’s time.

You wish there was someone beside you. Your mother, your father, Kiyoko or just a maid. But you’re expected to take each step solo.

As the music continues you take each painstaking step. Chattering and whispers dying down to silence as the sound of the organ grows; there isn’t a single pair of eyes not on you.

Glancing around the room, or at least to those sat in proximity to the aisle in the vast chapel, you’re realising there are minimal people here to support you.

There’s viscounts and barons hoping to gain power through relationships with the higher ranking earls and dukes. There’s women hoping to meet a higher ranking man to lift them up the societal hierarchy and you start to think Kiyoko is the only person really there for you.

The closer you come to Sakusa, the more familiar the faces become. You may not know them all, but the soldiers that fought alongside your fiancé stand to your left, all smiling at the thought of their captain, the man that lead them to victory in the near half-decade they were at war, getting his chance of happiness. Or what they perceive to be so.

You search the sea of vaguely recognisable faces, trying to keep your attention forward as you walk and, only then, do you look to the men that stand close, at Sakusa’s side. His most trusted, his family–only one of which you recognise. And only one of which you’re happy see.

Komori. Sakusa’s cousin and right hand, there wasn’t a thing on Earth Sakusa knew the Komori didn’t; as your eyes met his he greets you with a familiar, comforting smile—one you hadn’t seen in far too long. The sight of him turns from reassurance into something you’d wished you’d never laid eyes on.

You hate it.

It reminds you of the happiest years of your life, when you could consider Sakusa a friend instead of the stranger he’d become; when you could laugh or cry around him and not fear his reaction. Of when you would accompany both Sakusa and Komori on walks around the palace garden, almost always ending in a scolding from your mother at the filth that littered the dress she had carefully picked out that morning, something that never bothered you. Because the time you spent without supervision was always the time you looked forward to most.

It reminds you of the time you thought married life could be somewhat enjoyable.

Beside him are the infamous mercenaries hired to fight alongside the soldiers; now knights of the palace with the sole duty of protecting the prince. There’s Bokuto and Hinata, the two deceitfully cheerful men with the power to kill in seconds if given the chance. Together, they were an unstoppable team but they were not as treacherous as the faux blonde sat beside them with judgmental eyes targeting you.

Miya Atsumu. Bloodthirsty and menacing, his stare had you wanting to turn and leave more than you already were. His brown eyes felt like they were searching your very soul and all you could do was look away, finally looking at your betrothed.

For the first time in over four years.

You hate to admit it, you really do, but, no matter how much you despise him, you cannot deny the fact he’s become an inexplicably handsome man.

Maybe it was the years on the battlefield that had forced him to grow from the 18-year-old you remember into the toned, beautiful heir to the throne waiting for you at the alter; his new physique perfectly suiting the white suit he had donned; golden accessories making him more breathtaking. And, across his shoulders sat the white mantle handed down the generations of his family: a symbol of alleged love and affection between the king and his queen.

It makes you want to laugh.

The worst thing about it all, the one thing you’d expected but hoped he would control, is the expression on his face. If a single person was looking at him they would realise what a mockery this wedding was—no one should have an expression of such abhorrence at the site of their wife. Yet, there he was looking at you like you were dirt on his boots, like you were the enemy he’d been fighting for so long.

You slow for a second, taking a hesitant step forward as you force your eyes away from his. You know this isn’t what either of you want, you’re aware there may even be a woman Sakusa yearns for but can never have. But you wish you could live your life differently, turn and run; find a man to love wholeheartedly.

Reaching the alter, everything feels real. Sakusa takes his steps towards you; taking your hand and guiding you up the steps to the high priest, who’s waiting for the music to cease and the ceremony to officially begin.

With your back to the crowd, you ignore the words spoken by the priest; they mean nothing to you as he speaks of blessings showered down on the union—on how this is the wedding everyone has been anticipating.

Everyone but the two of you.

So, you stand. A hand rested on Sakusa’s as you wait for your cue to turn to him; to listen to him speak his vows, one’s you’ll have to echo afterwards.

When the time comes, you let him take your hands; you let him talk and you let him slide the ring on your finger. You’re locked into your life the second he finishes; he looks as unhappy as you feel at that moment.

Then it’s your turn; everyone’s watching you. They’re waiting to celebrate not only the marriage of the prince but the consolidation of power that will become their king and queen. But, not a single one knows you’re anxious about the words you're expected to say.

All eyes turn to you as your turn to repeat the words spoken moments beforehand comes, holding Sakusa’s hand in yours whilst you wait for the moment to slide the ring on his finger; the cold metal matches the rough man who’s not so much as smiled at you from the moment the doors opened.

You can hear the minister speaking even though you don’t register the words, meaningless words you’d practised a hundred times under the order of your mother, words that would have once spluttered from your mouth through your amusing nerves and had your heart racing. Yet, now, they left you numb and full of regret. Had all those years you’d given him, all the emotions you’d once thought you shared, been some sort of game? Or had he let you think he felt something towards you just so he could fulfil the duties placed on him by his father?

Taking a deep breath as the silence falls amongst the hall, as it had when Sakusa spoke his vows, and you prepare yourself for what was beginning to shape the rest of your life. “I y/n l/n take you, Sakusa Kiyoomi,” meeting his eyes for just a second you feel yourself begin to falter, staring at the man who, for just a split second, held a soft expression on his face. You lose sight of it just as quickly as you had noticed it, watching him as he turns from the young man that had been by your side; the man that had made you feel as though you were more than enough for anyone, to the stranger that had returned.

The moment passes and the light fades as you open your mouth to continue, “to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward,” with him in front of you; with the hopeful eyes of everyone watching, you’re left with nothing other than a bitter taste in your mouth.

“for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” you let your eyes drift to your parents, sitting beside Kiyoko, and your mother’s beaming smile urges you on with no care for what you want. She sits, expectant, waiting for the opportunity to call her daughter the princess, waiting to be known as the woman who was successful in making her child the future queen.

No matter how much you had told her you wanted anything else for your own life.

With your attention back to the man in front of you, you continue. “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,” You allow yourself to entertain the thought of just what type of person Sakusa would be in those situations. Wondering if he’d warm to you again, just as he did when you were younger, or if he’d show more of the man he’d seemed to have become. Would he care or would he leave you to feel alone in the palace through the moments you needed someone with you most?

“till death do us part,” The question of his loyalty had never come to your mind, you knew how he was raised and you knew how he felt about mistresses. You were all he would have be it willing or not.

“according to God’s holy law.” Uttering the words feel almost blasphemous, in a place of worship shared with a man you had long since lost any loving feelings. Words that most would believe were shared between lovers, young adults that had waited for this moment since they were children, unaware of the loss you feel thinking about the man that once took claim of your heart.

You hold the ring in your hand, delicately lifting it so you can slide it down his slender finger, trapping yourself with the final words you speak, mouth dry and voice shaking, enough to be misconstrued as nerves, as you do so.

“This is my solemn vow.”

#𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜 ༉‧₊˚.#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader

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empressofthesunwriter · 24 days

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Change the Narrative

If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.

But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!

This time she would always choose herself first!

Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.

I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!

Katara knew it was time for her to die.

She felt it in her old bones.

Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.

At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.

It was a good death.

The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.

She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.

It was good.

She had lived a long happy life.

Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.

Was it a happy life?

How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?

How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.

But no!

The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.

Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.

Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?

However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.

He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.

They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.

And she did so to her children.

No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.

Where did she go wrong in her life?

When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?

Why did she even choose Aang?

Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?

He loved her and had ended the war.

Was it so bad to give him a chance?

Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.

Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?

She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.

Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.

She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.

Soon she would join her loved ones...

Just...

If she could...

If the spirits were so kind...

If dear Yue heard her...

She wanted a second chance.

She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.

Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?

Was she selfish?

Maybe.

Surely.

But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.

Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.

Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.

Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...

***

She felt pain in her head.

Katara hissed and touched her forehead.

Why did she get a headache?

Where was she?

She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.

Slowly she could see.

Ah yes.

She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.

The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.

It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.

She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?

He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.

As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.

Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.

It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!

No, she didn't want what she had seen.

How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!

How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!

No, absolutely not!

Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!

So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.

The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.

For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.

Oh no!

Not with her!

"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.

"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"

Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.

The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.

She sends them all an annoyed look.

"What?!"

No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."

This makes Katara smile.

***

The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home.

The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.

As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.

She was a force of nature!

No one had a chance against her.

Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.

Yes, this was where she belonged.

Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!

Katara was happy.

A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.

***

A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.

She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.

He had become her best friend.

And her wall against Aang.

As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.

She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.

Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.

When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.

Awkwardly he waved it away.

It was nothing.

He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.

Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.

In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.

If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?

A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.

Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.

***

Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.

They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.

It changed a lot of interactions.

They were playful with each other.

Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.

They were there for each other.

In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.

They shared the workload.

It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.

They were getting closer to each other.

They shared things they never told anyone.

Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.

Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!

Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.

Something new was born between them.

Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.

It made her feel good.

After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.

And also a society of hiding airbenders.

Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.

***

Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?

When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home.

Warm, welcome, familair, intim.

It was the best sensation in the world.

Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.

After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.

All their friends and half of the world were invited.

Yes, even Aang.

Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.

Now they really could be friends.

***

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.

Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.

She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.

She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.

She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.

Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.

Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.

When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.

They often had visits from their friends and families.

Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.

So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.

It was fulfilling.

As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.

Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.

After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.

Zuko died a few months before her.

Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.

Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.

As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.

She had lived a long and wonderful life.

Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.

And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.

***

The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.

From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.

It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.

They could reach their goals and go even beyond.

This was Katara's legacy.

As it should have been.

If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang!

Click on my profile and leave a comment.

I hope you liked this little One-Shot!

Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D

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nyahchan · 11 months

Text

Childe's Dear Roomate

Modern AU Childe x fem!faceless pornstar streamer reader 18+

TW:mentiones of toys, voyeurism (?) , modern au childe,daddy kink, squirting,

I think you can guess the rest of the tags

This is inspired by a fic I read but I can't find it anymore so idk who to give credits

:readmore: (this shi never works)

Every waking moment

Every hour at work

It all felt irritating

He could only grow restless till his working hours were up and he could leave

Childe's favourite activity of the day was going home, not to relax, not to eat, not to sleep, but to watch his favourite streamer, oh how cute she was! hiding her face with a mask, wearing a wig for extra caution, all while showing her beautiful and gorgeous body to the entire world for money, playing with herself for ___$ , Cumming on the stream for ___$, using various toys for ___$,Moaning a certain viewer's name for special donations and oh so much more! Childe could only feel aroused and angry everytime your stream started, you were showing your lovely body and doing such unholy things in front of so many perverts like himself just for money, he could easily give you the money you need! Just thinking about having you by his side, fucking you every waking moment, giving you the money that you oh so badly need to be doing such things on the internet was enough to make him cum all over his screen as he watched your stream on his computer.

Everything was perfect as usual except for one thing, he had a new roommate now, ugh so annoying, although he didn't need to have a roommate as he had a very high paying job, he oh so stupidly agreed to it one night a few days ago while he was rewatching a few of his favourite streamer's streams, agreeing in the heat of the moment as he was annoyed that someone was calling him asking if she could be his roommate for external and internal reasons for a few days, childe kept thinking about kicking his annoying roommate out but figured it's only for a few days so he didn't even bother looking at his new roommate's face, and with that in mind he kept watching his darling streamer when he realized something, her background was different today and she was telling her viewers how she was at a different place for some internal reasons and to not pay attention to it but childe kept thinking about it over and over again... It looks familiar... Too familiar... Childe kept looking at the background till it clicked in his head, he grinned evilly and immediately dashed to his new roommate's room and behold! His darling was right in front of him, completely naked, a dildo inside her sopping pussy, her face covered with a mask, wearing a wig, her eyes widened as childe barged in. He on the other hand,wasted no time in unbuckling his already loose pants, only in his underwear from the waist down now, wearing a mask himself and going near the screen where she was sitting, "hey guys, today you're gonna see your favorite streamer get fucked by an actual cock instead of this fake tiny little dildo" childe said as he yanked the dildo out with so much force, it caused you to whimper out loudly, still shocked from the turn of events "this will be her last stream so gonna make it a special one ya see" "don't even need to pay today, just watch and see how good I fuck my darling unlike you disgusting perverts, savour this moment in your heart" he says to the screen as he quickly takes his pants off, revealing his long and girthy member ", your eyes widen "w-wait, w-what do you mean my last steam?!" You say all confused "darling, ya think I'm gonna let these animals look at you any longer now that I've found out you're my roommate~ don't worry daddy's gonna pay for everything, no need to do such degenerate things for money anymore, daddy's gonna wife ya up"

and with that, he starts aligning himself against your dripping pussy, you can only whimper in protest, he starts slowly entering you until he bottoms out, hissing at you walls tightening around him "although you just had a dildo shoved in ya, it appears you're still too tight for daddy's cock, never had an actual girthy cock before did ya?" He says smugly as he starts violently thrusting in and out of you, you start moaning loudly, lost in the pleasure, no one has ever fucked you think good before, your eyes roll back in your head as your tongue falls out of your mouth as you stop caring about how your screen is filling up with hundreds of messages , either praising you or degrading you as they talk in detail how they're jerking off right now to you,as you're getting fucked into oblivion, childe on the otherhand could feel his blood rushing to his dick even more as he saw all the comments popping on the screen, a feeling of possessiveness fills him up as he starts thrusting faster and faster while growling to show the world who you belong to now, your walls start tightening around his cock as you feel the knot in your stomach about to snap, but something feels different, very different "i-i think I need to pee, I-i feel strange" you whimper out "then piss on my cock" he grunts as he feels your walls tightening even more, and as if on command, you squirt all over his chest, your back arching as your head falls back, childe's eyes widen at the scene in front of him and he starts smirking mischievously at this new revelation "my my, it looks like someone just squirted~" he chuckles,your eyes quickly widen but he gives you a reassuring smile to indicate this is not something to be ashamed of and thrusts into you sloppily a few more times to help you through your high before cumming inside your pussy himself, you whimper out at the feeling of being filled to the brim by his seed.

Childe quickly ends the stream and places you onto his lap to let you rest up as he coos praises into your ear "no more showing the world your gorgeous body m-kay?I'll give you as much money you need, let's be permanent roommates" he says as he slips the mask off of your face and his as well, then snags the wig off of your head for more air "you look stunning, you know that right? Looked so good when you squirted,it's a shame the mask covered your face, wanted to fully see that tongue sticking out,maybe next time" he says as he brushes some hair off of your face, you might have just found a new sugar daddy, except you're probably gonna be living with him.... And might just become a parent in the process..

#modern childe #childe smut #childe x reader smut #childe x reader #tartagalia smut #tartaglia x reader smut #tartaglia x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #smut #ajax x reader

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jessicaslittlelovesickmess · 4 months

Text

Your mama’s crying

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x daughter reader

Warning: death, angst, Ian Doyle, depression, Ian calling reader by her “name”

It had been seven months…

Seven months since your mother had passed, your best friend had died at the hands of your father Ian Doyle. Seven months of losing yourself and recreating a new version of who you once were, everything had changed once she left, even me.

I couldn't bare looking into the mirror to stare at the dark eyes, raven hair that I mourned the loss of so I dyed it. Pink. Purple. Blue. Green. Red. Before settling on a beautiful Blonde that she would've loved. I swapped my glasses for coloured contacts, it hurt to see the ghost of my mother in myself.

Seven months and yet it felt like seven years..

The first day had begun a month after mum had passed, I was curled in her bed my face smothered in her blankets that were slowly loosing her scent. Morgan had burst into the room throwing my gym clothes at me telling me to get ready, we ran ten kilometres that day only stopping at the lookout on the hill to yell out our frustrations at the world.

It became a routine of sorts and sometimes Penelope would join us although she couldn’t keep up with us as often. It was okay. We would be okay, Sergio clung to me more as the months grew almost as if he just knew.

I sat with Derek on the roof, his arm wrapped securely around my shoulders as we spoke "I miss her" I whispered curling myself into him more. "Me too, miniP' he kissed my head before resting his cheek on it"me too he repeated sadly "she'd be proud of you, you know that right?" | nodded biting my lip.

I hope she would be

Although I wanted revenge

I had graduated university top of my class with the team cheering me on in the crowd, how was I to see those two guilty faces. It hurt my mother not being in the front row like she was meant to but I imagined she had been.

My father loved me in a strange way

The team thought it best to use me as the bait to catch him, I called him to a cafe just a quiet one that I had visited him before at. Staring at him I felt nothing, his face was blank “whats the softest way to say you took away my friend, my buddy?. Whats the kindest way to say you took away my friend?”.

“You wouldn’t understand Alora” he whispered “so help me understand father” hopefully the team should walk in any moment. “It was simply fate my dear, we have a past” fate? Fate took my mother? My heart had shattering once more.

I wanted to scream and cry, throw anything available at him but I was just so numb and maybe he knew that as he leaned over. Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before the team burst in “Je t'aime Y/n” he whispered I love you Y/n “Adieu père” I whispered. Goodbye father

How dare he simply call it fate

“Elle m'a enlevé ma fille”

She took my daughter away

I was bound to him, mum was bound to him

I was his daughter

It was all a blur as he was arrested, I had become numb but I knew I hated France it would never be the same I’m not sure Virginia could be the same anymore.

I never went home that day, finding myself at Penelope’s front doorstep tears streaming down my face. Her arms had become home I wondered if my mother would be disappointed in me- of who I had become.

“Oh my sweetheart”

I wished I could’ve told her sooner about my adoration for women of my harboured feelings for an older blonde that I had no chance with. I had an internship with the bau while I found a job that I actually wanted, I had plans just as my mother once had.

We had been called into the conference room, I stood near the back “everyone take a seat” Hotch sighed as JJ stood beside him. "7 months ago I made a decision that affected this Team." he said, and I knew immediatly that this was about mum.

"As you know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfilitration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know." he said and I felt sick to my stomach.

"She stayed there until she was well enough to travel, she was reassigned to Paris where she was given several different identities which we had no access to for her security." He goes on.

"She's alive?" Penelope asked.

"But we buried her..." Reid says hurt.

I had buried my mother

Yet she had walked into the room with a smile on her face as if these seven months had never existed, I had buried my mother for nothing. These seven months had been a lie, all the words JJ and Aaron said had been lies all those tender hugs and kisses were full of guilt.

I couldn’t help but leave quickly as mum made her way around the team giving out hugs unaware she had watched me go. I couldn’t be there, I couldn’t be in that room not with everyone so happy to have her back, I grieved my mother.

I mourned someone who wasn’t dead

Maybe it was selfish of me but I left the team that day, finally moved my things out of my mothers apartment now that she was back. I ignored her calls so angry she could do such a thing the same went with Aaron and JJ, how could they? my mother?.

The team had called me often saying how my mother had been crying, her sobs begging for me and maybe in some sick way she knew just how I had felt.

I laid with my head in Penelopes lap as I sobbed, her soothing hands running through my hair “I know it’s hard right now Y/n but maybe it would be a good thing if you started talking to her again”.

“I’m just so scared Pen”

“And thats okay baby cakes”

It wouldn’t be another two weeks before I worked up the courage to talk to her, Rossi was hosting a part while I had arrived with the blonde. Mum made her way beside me “I’m proud of you Y/n” she slowly placed a hand on my shoulder.

She took a deep breath in tears already staining her waterline “and I’m sorry, if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve but Aaron had said no. I asked them everyday about you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here I’m sorry, I put my little girl through all this pain”

She moved her hands to cup my face “my baby girl, and when you graduated Uni. I made sure Aaron got me a clip of you. I never once stopped thinking about you, Mon cher I love you”

“And I am so so proud of you” the warmth of her lips pressed against my forehead cemented she was real “I’m sorry mama” I cried. “I was just so angry, I didn’t mean to make you cry” she pulled me into her chest rocking us gently side by side.

After a while she chuckle causing me to look up confused “you and Garcia?” She smirked with a raised brow

#imagine #wlw #angst #penelope garcia x reader #penelope garcia #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x daughter #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 5 months

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 5: Rebellion

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 5.8K

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}

Run?

Your stilled heart may not be able to beat any longer, but all-consuming fear still afflicts your battered body. You feel the familiar prickling sensation of adrenaline expanding outward from your constricting chest like a glassy lake disturbed by a thrown stone. All your hair stands on end as you think about the approaching dawn.

Staring into the icebound pools of Astarion’s scarlet eyes, you think about everything he has stolen from you - your life, your body, your soul, your love, your loyalty, your freedom.

He has taken everything from me.

Your voice shakes, “The sun can’t harm me if you’re near.”

“How certain are you that I don’t control that lovely little benefit?”

“Do you?”

One of his eyebrows pulls down hauntingly, “Perhaps I do. Perhaps I don’t. Are you willing to risk your life on it, pet?”

“Yes.”

“What about dear Shadowheart’s life? I would give her a very warm bloody welcome when she comes looking for you.”

Shadowheart.

“I won’t let you touch her.”

“If you’re a pile of ash on my front step, I don’t see you having much choice in the matter, darling, but you’re welcome to loiter out here all you like.”

Astarion turns his back on you. You seethe with a noxious loathing - for yourself, him, and the mess you’ve dragged your friends into. A deep rage you have kept caged for too long finally breaks free of its prison.

With a bellowing roar, you lash out at him, casting Telekinesis and hauling him off his feet, throwing him across the courtyard.

His body impacts a stone statue with a thud, shattering it into rubble. The ground greets his body with such force that he bounces off it.

What have I done?

His muscles tense, and he shifts his body, using the momentum to easily roll back onto his feet. A weeping gash on his forehead causes blood to stream down his face, streaking it with vicious red to match his eyes.

“You’ll pay for that.”

I know.

His reflexes might be like liquid lightning, but you’re not some feeble halfwit. Even though you’re not sure it will hold him, you cast Hold Person on him, catching him off guard. You see his frame flicker slightly as he tries to turn himself into mist, but your magic is strong, fuelled by your rage.

Shadowheart.

You have a choice - you can hold your ground against him as long as possible and allow either the sun or him to end you, or you can try to make it home before sunrise. He may follow and hunt you down like a rabid animal that needs exterminating, but either way, your fate remains the same.

Gale. Shadowheart. I have to try.

You pivot and force your body to move forward as fast as you can. Feeding off your rage, hatred, and all the devastated pieces of your broken heart, you run.

You dash over fences, skip across roofs, pull on every ounce of magic your body can contain and Misty Step until you’re not sure whether you’re mist or corporeal from one moment to the next. You push forward erratically, skittering towards home.

You don’t look back. If Astarion follows, you don’t want to know. You already know the fate that awaits should he choose it.

Your muscles twitch and cramp woefully with over-exertion as you draw closer. The stars no longer shine in the sky as they are snuffed out by the quickly rising light of dawn, but you can see the little house just up ahead.

I’m so close.

As the first light starts to break over the horizon, you throw the old wooden door open, throwing yourself to safety inside, slamming it shut.

Backing away from the door, you wait pensively, wondering if Astarion will burst through at any moment to make you pay for what you’ve done. You watch that door with a fixed, heated glower for hours, but nothing happens.

You go up to your bedroom and sink to your knees on the ground. Without the swarming fervour of hatred to dull the aching of your heart, you fall to pieces.

He really is gone, isn’t he?

The spasming pain in your stomach cleaves at you, awakening you from the troubled trance you slipped into. Your arms curl around your midsection, trying to stifle the recurrent waves of convulsing pain rocketing through you.

I need to eat. Badly.

You have to force your starving body to move forward. Your muscles cramp and jerk out of your control. Each step has to be taken with purpose and effort as you try to control your writhing body.

The journey is agonizing and takes you longer than it should. When you finally reach the forest, you’re already exhausted. You fill your useless lungs with air they don’t need in an instinctive sharp inhale.

Another spasm in your unruly limbs causes you to stumble. You catch yourself on a tree and rest your forehead against the rough bark, squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that the muscles of your face ache.

“There you are, little love. I’ve been waiting.”

You groan at the velvety smooth voice and force your eyes to open, casting them toward it. Astarion is standing on the other side of the small clearing.

Dressed in black, he melts into the shadows like an apparition. His clothing is reminiscent of what he wore the first night at camp after the crash, and you curse at him inwardly for wearing something that reminds you of old times.

You push yourself away from the tree and try to stand tall, but the cramping in your stomach persists, and you lurch over awkwardly.

“What the fuck do you want.”

“To talk.”

You scoff, “I have nothing to say to you.”

Astarion starts to walk towards you, and you grasp at the weave. Using Telekinesis, you throw him backwards, off his feet. He skids harshly across the moss-covered ground.

Once again, using the momentum, he tucks and rolls onto his feet, righting himself, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Yeah, right.

“If you come anywhere near me, I will burn you with every ounce of magic I have!”

Will I?

He starts towards you again, but before you can cast anything, he shifts into mist and rapidly reappears behind you. Terrified, you turn, ready to defend yourself against whatever horror he is going to inflict.

You might be fast, but he will always be faster. He effortlessly grabs your hands and forces them together, rendering you unable to cast. You struggle against him furiously, but he easily overpowers you, barely wavering.

He snarls, “Why do you insist on making me treat you in this manner? Why do you fight me at every turn?!”

Make him?

You break into venomous, hysterical laughter, and his eyes widen in shock.

“No one can make you do anything anymore, Astarion. What you do and who you are - those are your choices to make. You have no one but yourself to blame for any atrocities you commit and your shitty behaviour.”

His eyes soften, “You’re right, which is why I need to speak with you.”

Wait...

I’m right?

No.

Don’t fall for this again.

“Did you not hear me? I want nothing to do with you!”

He sighs, “I understand. If you wish, I will leave Baldur’s Gate and never return. You will never have to see me again, but you must hear me out first.”

… What?

“I’m going to let your hands go now. Are you planning on attacking me some more, or will you listen?”

“Let go and find out.”

He chuckles, “Fiery as ever, my dear.”

Astarion releases his hold on you and puts his hands up in an innocent gesture, backing away from you slowly.

You watch him through narrowed eyes as he retreats. You position yourself in a defensive stance. A fireball blooming in your palm, and your fangs bared.

“What is this, Astarion? What kind of sick trick are you playing now?”

“No tricks. No games. Please, hear me out, but allow me to get you some food first.”

“You want to feed me?”

He nods, “It will allow you to think clearer. I can see you’re in pain…”

He pities me, but Gods, I am so hungry.

“No, thank you. The last time I accepted your help, it nearly got me turned into a pile of ash.”

His crimson eyes look at you sadly, downturned at the corners, “Let me help you. Please.”

Starving.

“Fine.”

“Excellent. Perhaps you should stay put. You are likely to scare everything away. Do you have a preference? Deer, boar, bear… Kobold?”

What the fuck is happening right now.

You wave a hand at him in dismissal, “It doesn’t matter. Blood is blood.”

Astarion vanishes somewhere into the thickly treed forest, leaving you with your thoughts. Your mind is reeling, confused, and unsettled. Your nerves buzz, your skin feels like it’s crawling, and you have no doubt that if your stilled heart could beat, it would be throwing itself around your chest, trying to break your ribs.

What part of the nine Hells have I fallen into?

Astarion returns quickly, and you consider for a moment if he may have poisoned the animal, but what do you have to lose at this point?

Once you finish your four-legged feast, you stare at him, observing his behaviour. He stands with his arms crossed, leaning against a tree, looking exceptionally pensive. His cardinal red eyes dart rapidly, never focusing on anything in particular.

He looks… anxious, scared even.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about now?”

He jolts out of his thoughts, “Yes, of course. Do you feel better?”

Gods, yes.

You could almost moan at how relieved you feel - clear-headed, strong, no more gut-wrenching pain, turning your insides to mincemeat. Your muscles have stopped their relentless, painful spasming and are finally under your control again.

You might hug him simply for this feeling alone, but you lock your knees and keep your feet firmly planted.

“I feel fine. Tell me what you want.”

Astarion shifts away from the tree he’s been leaning against and steps toward you. You take several steps back, instantly lowering your centre of gravity protectively, and fire sparks to life in your hands.

He stops, a dismal expression on his face, “You’re afraid of me.”

“Observant, as always.”

Afraid doesn’t begin to cover it.

“What I did to you… What I’ve done to you… I… I abhor myself for it.”

You scoff, “Which part?”

“All of it.”

You stand there clinging to your fire for comfort. Your mouth is dropped open in astonishment. You observe his features keenly. His crimson eyes are downcast and glassed over, melancholic remorse shining brightly in the waxy moonlight.

His shoulders are slumped. His demeanour reminds you of the night he tried to bite you in your sleep, and you awoke to him hovering over you, fangs bared.

What can I even say to this?

He drags his fingers through the highlighted silver curls of his hair, “I feel different after the ritual. Something in me is… broken. I am not myself.”

No shit.

He looks at you with frightened, round eyes, “I don’t want to be this way, this person, but the power…” He looks at his hands as they ball into fists and clenches his bared teeth, “It corrupts, and I lose myself in it.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“I need your help.”

“You want my help? After you threatened to kill me?” You shake your head, “What kind of morbid trick is this, Astarion? What games are you trying to amuse yourself with now?”

“No games, my love.”

My love?

Am I actually considering this?

Have I gone completely mad?

Tightness coils like a spring constricting your chest, and you let the fire burning in your palm retreat, “How can I ever trust you again? How can I know if this is real?”

Astarion comes closer with slow, deliberate steps, “You can cast Detect Thoughts, no?”

“Yes, you know that. You’ve seen me use it countless times. Why?”

“Cast it.”

“What?”

“You need to know this is not a trick, and I can hardly blame you. Cast, darling. Tell me what you see.”

Astarion continues his slow advance toward you. The one good thing about being dead and having no heartbeat is that he can’t tell how scared you are. You hold your ground with a rigid stance, muscles tight and ready to react at a moment's notice.

He searches your face, looking deeply into your eyes, “They never did completely change colour, did they? Your eyes, I mean.”

All of your friends had remarked that although your eyes did take on the red hue of his, your irises held splotches and slivers where your original eye colour was still visible. You wonder what it must look like, but your face will forever be just a memory until one day it too fades.

“I wouldn’t know. I have no reflection anymore.”

“I’ve taken much from you.”

My love. My passion. My life.

Astarion hand trails down your arm to your wrist before turning your palm up and kissing it softly, “Cast, love.”

Do I want to do this?

You shouldn’t even be humouring him; you should be asking him to leave the city as he said he would, but there’s something in his voice, in the way he moves, and in his eyes that you recognize, and it tugs at your inherent intuition. You grit your teeth and cast.

My Astarion… If there’s even a small chance, I have to take it.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing. I haven’t used it.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid of what I might see, hear.”

He chuckles, “Me too.”

You delve into his mind. There is so much noise in his head that it makes it hard to focus on any one thought, and you struggle with isolating them. The cacophonous commotion maims your conscious mind and makes you want to yelp.

Shaking your head, you try to stifle the throbbing pain between your ears, “You need to settle your mind, Astarion.”

“How?”

“Focus on something that calms you.”

“Okay,” Astarion anchors his eyes on you, “try again.”

The chaotic mess of his mind batters yours as you try to focus yourself from one thought to the next. You manage to catch snippets here and there, but nothing concrete, nothing that can tell you if this is a trick, game or some other form of callous manipulation.

“Not calm enough, Astarion.”

“Is everyone's mind like that?”

“No one’s mind is like that. At least no one I’ve done this to. Thoughts are usually coherent and fluid like a slow stream slipping into a bigger river, but yours are chaotic, loud, like a raging storm.”

Although this certainly sheds some light on his erratic behaviour.

“What now?”

This might not be my brightest idea.

“I have an idea, but you might not like it.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “Well, what is it?”

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to calm the fear curdling in your stomach. Closing the distance between you, your lips meet his tenderly.

He’s shocked for a moment, and you wonder if you overstepped, but his arm comes around you, pulling your body flush against his. He deepens the kiss with a low moan.

Now, the hard part is trying to keep enough of your mind off this moment to be able to read his thoughts accurately.

You once again focus your spell. The blaring white noise that had obstructed and retaliated against your intrusion slowly drops to a low murmur in the background.

His thoughts start to form coherently, and you follow the meandering stream. You can hear them now, as long as you don’t allow yourself to get too lost in him.

A challenge all on its own.

There’s something different about his thoughts compared to others’ minds you’ve read. He’s in there, but there’s something else, something sinister that chants malice, hatred, and corruption. It grasps at and infects his thoughts as they flow, polluting them.

You can hear his thoughts as they drift.

“What have I become?”

“Who am I?”

“Help me.”

He’s not lying.

Having heard enough to get answers, you allow the spell to wane. You intend to break the kiss, but his mouth on yours feels divine. He hasn’t kissed you with this much passion since the night he turned you, and you soak into it and immerse yourself in him.

I have to stop this, but Gods, I don’t want to.

His tongue trails along your lower lip, sending spiralling shivers running down your spine, and you gasp, parting your lips for him. He explores your mouth skillfully, tasting you, and a growl reverberates in his chest. Feverish need washes through you in a deluge and pools hot in your stomach.

You push yourself further into him, trailing your hands greedily up the smooth contours of his body. His thumb sweeps affectionately across your cheek. He is the center of your universe, and you can’t help but be pulled into him. Your yearning desire swells between your thighs, and you sigh against him at the throbbing ache, begging for him to relieve it.

You can feel your rationality start to slip away from you as you gravitate towards him helplessly.

Reluctantly, you push him away, with a panting breath, “Stop.”

He groans but releases you immediately, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Shaking your head, you hold your hand up to stop him. This wasn’t his fault. You had initiated it in the first place and allowed it to go on far longer than you should have. Your lips still tingle with the phantom feeling of his urging mouth, and you crave more.

His sultry gaze penetrates you, “I did very much enjoy that idea.”

Me too.

“You’re not lying, as far as I can tell, but I still don’t know what you think I can do for you.”

“You’re the only one that will stand up to me. Well, that I know I won’t kill anyway.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

His eyebrows round, and his mouth drops open, “You think I will kill you?”

“Yes. I think you might. You’re certainly more than capable of it.”

“I…” Surprise dances across his features, “I would never.”

You scowl at him, “You almost did.”

“Darling, I was right behind you the entire time, just out of sight. I would never have let you burn.”

Was he?

“Oh, I see. So, you just, what? Enjoy seeing me running for my life, terrified? I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“I don’t enjoy it, but I feel… compelled to do it like something takes over, and I’m out of control…” he sighs, “again.”

“I don’t know if I can save you from yourself, Astarion.”

His eyes fall to the ground, full of sorrow and fear, and your heart breaks for him.

“I… I understand.”

“But I will try.”

I have to.

“You will?”

What do I have to lose?

Reflexively, you take a deep breath and nod, “Yes.”

Astarion takes your hand in his, “Thank you.” He smiles, “Will you move back into the palace?”

You pull away from him, “I have to think about it, Astarion. I need time to process…. Whatever this is.”

“Yes, of course. That’s eminently reasonable. Shall we discuss your terms tomorrow night?”

Another transaction for my help. Lovely.

“Fine. Until tomorrow, then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my treasure.”

You sit in the stark chair by the fireplace in the empty house you share with Shadowheart and Gale. Anxiety prickles your skin and ripples through your thoughts.

Am I falling for another trap?

Agreeing to help him may prove to be your undoing, but when have you ever been able to resist him when he’s pleading for your help? It’s what got you into this mess in the first place - isn’t it? If the ritual did cause this change in him, you can’t help but feel it’s your fault.

It sounded like he was still in there. If he is, how do you save someone from their own corrupted thoughts?

Tears slip down your cheeks, and you bring your knees to your chest. The fire wanes in the fireplace as it runs out of fuel, and you allow it to die like you allowed Astarion to take your life. As the fire burns out, it washes you in darkness. You wish Shadowheart were here to try and talk you out of the stupidity you’ve just agreed to.

Can I even be talked out of it?

You have always been headstrong, likely to your own detriment at times. You preserve where others balk. That resilience had carried you through after escaping the Nautiloid, but could it carry you through this?

The hectic cacophony of Astarion’s mind makes you shudder. You’ve listened in on the thoughts of countless people and never encountered anything similar. It had been like watching a crystal-clear stream slip through a contaminated bog, turning it into a gelatinous, toxic soup.

Could the ritual have caused that?

There was no way to know for sure. You had never listened to his thoughts before. Even when you had the tadpole, you never forced your way into any of your friends’ heads out of respect for them and their privacy. The only times you had crossed those boundaries was when the tadpole resonated with his out of your control.

Going to your room, you crawl into your bed. The wooden walls creak and groan eerily around you as if the ghosts of the 7000 souls you condemned were haunting you. You let your consciousness glide into the meditative tranquillity of your trance.

You awake when the shadows have devoured the light again. Slipping into a tightly fitting robe, you bolster yourself for what’s to come. You run a comb through your hair and adorn your favourite circlet. The metal is delicately shaped in prancing dragons, and a shining red gem hangs low on your forehead.

A knock on the door makes you twitch slightly, though you already know who it is. Astarion is waiting when you open it, leaning against the doorframe, handsomely bathed in the small beams of pale light that slip through the parting clouds covering the inky sky.

He’s dressed in a fancy red and black jacket with silver and gold piping and finely embroidered. His scarlet eyes are vibrant, dazzling you.

“Hello, little love. Are you ready to discuss?”

Am I?

“Yes. We can talk.”

“Where are Shadowheart and Gale?”

“Not here.” You leer a warning at him, “Stay away from them.”

His eyes cast down, “Do you truly think I am such a monster that I would hurt them?”

“I don’t know who or what you are anymore.”

He shakes his head with a sigh, “Neither do I sometimes, my dear. Shall we get you something to eat before we talk?”

“You’re not dressed for hunting.”

He chuckles, “I may be a tad overdressed. I came from a business meeting.”

Business meeting?

“Come, let’s go get you some food.”

You and Astarion walk to the forest in uneasy silence. A low fog covers the ground in an eerie, chalky mist. You keep a tight grasp on your magic, ready to cast at a moment's notice.

Astarion may seem different, but you’re not entirely sure if you can trust him. Part of you thinks this is all just another manipulation, and you’re walking straight into it.

The lovesick hero… Gods, he couldn’t have been more right.

“Do you always stomp so loudly when you’re hunting?”

You scoff, “I am not a hunter, Astarion.”

“Yes, that’s evident. How did you keep yourself fed?”

You shake your head, abject, “I didn’t. Not well, at least.”

Astarion strips himself of his jacket and shirt once he’s surmised you’re deeply enough into the forest. His pallid skin makes him appear almost ghost-like in the washed-out glow of the diffuse beams of light that flicker, cast from the full moon glowing brightly behind the clouds. His muscles appear as though they have been etched from stone by a master mason.

Fuck.

He looks ethereal in this moment, and you can’t pry your eyes away from him.

“Enjoying the view, precious thing?”

“Yes, the forest is beautiful tonight.” You cast your eyes upward before meeting his with a taunting glare, “I could take or leave your body.”

“Oh,” he giggles, “feeling bold tonight, I see.”

This feels too much like before he usurped the Rite of Profane Ascension, making you restless. You fidget with your hands and shift uncomfortably on your feet. Your palms are still warm, prepared to cast, just in case he turns on you like he has so many times.

“We can talk about what’s bothering you if you wish.”

You didn’t even notice him walk over. Astarion stands in front of you. His eyebrow is cocked, and he eyes you acutely with a probing gaze.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Stay put, and do try not to move about too much. You scare away the animals.”

You roll your eyes at him, “I’m well aware of my inadequacies, thank you.”

Just like the night before, Astarion returns promptly with your dinner. He redresses himself while you eat, and you mourn the loss of that mouthwatering sight.

Get ahold of yourself.

“Where would you like to talk? I presume you have… demands.”

“The palace is fine as long as you don’t currently have any… guests. ”

“Guests?” He cocks a brow at you, confused.

“Your new lover. Whatever her name is.”

“Oh…” He shakes his head, “It’s not what you think, my dear. We will discuss it.”

Not what I think? She basically told me as much.

Once you hit the city streets leading to the palace, you are overwhelmed by all the people outside, even at this late hour. They smell like prey, and even though you just ate, that hunger is insatiable. You could likely eat every person in this city and still not quench that sanguine thirst.

Their hearts beat lazily in their chests as they mull about, and it’s the only thing you can hear. You grimace and grit your teeth, trying to stay in control of the bloodlust that consumes you.

Astarion notices your unease. He had spent two centuries with it, after all.

“Hold my hand, little love. I’ll keep you safe and them.”

He holds his hand out to you, and you look at it tentatively, unsure if you should take it. A child runs past you, chasing his friends, laughing hysterically, and you grab Astarion’s hand in a death grip. You clamber and hug tightly to his side as you fight the urge to chase the gleefully playing children.

Gods, what have I become?

“Eyes on me, darling. You’re alright.”

“Astarion, I can’t.” Your voice is panicked, pleading, “I need to get out of here before I kill someone.”

He nods and looks around, “Do you see that rooftop?”

“Yes.”

“Can you make it up there?”

You nod, “Yes.”

“Go.”

You cast Misty Step and disperse into a fog, reappearing on the rooftop. Astarion is already there waiting for you, no doubt turning himself into mist as he had done in the forest to subdue you. He holds out his hand again, and this time, you take it gratefully. Despite the fear he has instilled in you, there is solace in his touch as there always was.

Astarion leads you over rooftops, jumping from section to section and catching you when you inevitably nearly fall. The breeze up here is unhindered by obstacles and remains fresh and mostly void of the smell of the living, allowing you to calm your raving mind.

Walking into the palace courtyard, you eye the statue you had thrown him through in your rage just a few nights prior.

So much can change so quickly.

The square base of the statue remains largely intact, but the rest of the marbled-grey figure lies in large, jagged pieces strewn haphazardly on the ground.

Astarion follows your gaze and smirks, “I didn’t like it much anyway.”

You follow him into a large, lavish sitting room, obviously meant to occupy the spawns’ guests before Cazador came for them. Looking around the dim, dreary palace, you shudder.

I hate this place.

“Darling, do you mind?”

“What?”

He points at the fireplace, “Would you be so kind?”

With the flick of your wrist, fire springs to life, igniting the kindling and logs, crackling and popping. A soft, tawny glow casts across the room. The tacky paintings and art he hated still embellish the walls, and the furniture remains the same.

Why has he not changed any of this?

He sits down and watches as you glide through the room, inspecting it. You finally shake your head and bring yourself back to the matter at hand.

Let’s get this over with.

“I have stipulations.”

He chuckles, “I would not have expected any less.”

“I don’t want to live in this horrid place.”

He waves his hand dismissively, “This is my home.”

“It’s not mine. Let me be perfectly clear - I will not live here.”

He sighs, “Alright, but please tell me you are not asking me to move back in with Shadowheart and Gale?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want you anywhere near them.”

“I will purchase another then.”

“I don’t want to see your lover. If you must be with her, you can go elsewhere. Return to this palace for all I care as long as I don’t have to see her and you together.”

“It upsets you.”

Your anger flares, the fire in the fireplace pulses and sputters along with it, “Yes, it fucking upsets me. Does that make you happy?”

He stands and walks over to you. You cross your arms over your body and keep your eyes off him, not wanting him to see just how much it breaks you.

Astarion uses his fingers to gently bring your eyes up to his, “Why does it upset you so?”

You scoff at him, “That’s a stupid question.”

“Be a dear and humour my stupidity then.”

“You wouldn’t even touch me after you turned me into… this. You barely laid a finger on me.”

His eyebrows knit together, “Did you want me to?”

“… Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

I wanted you to want me...

“It hardly matters now. Let’s move on.”

“I’d rather like to know why you care so much about the, what did you call her?” He cocks his head, eyes upcast, “Ah yes, my “purple-haired hussy.” You left me, remember?”

“You didn’t give me a choice. It was either run or be ruined by you, but I don’t wish to drudge this up. Let’s move on.”

He grabs your robe aggressively, tugging you close to him with a threatening sneer, “I said tell me.”

Well, that didn’t last long, did it?

Here goes nothing.

Reaching up, you grab one of his fists holding you, and you burn him. He winces, recoils and throws you to the floor.

“You little shit!”

“Stop listening to whatever is whispering to you in your head, Astarion.”

I need to snap him out of this, but how?

Your words in the forest float through your head, “Focus on something that calms you.”

Me… He anchored himself with me…

In a swift motion, you throw yourself up and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace, “Don’t let it win.”

He growls menacingly, and you squeeze him tighter. Your whole body is trembling, terror-stricken, and you clench your jaw hard and wait for whatever comes next.

He’s either going to throw me off, kill me, or….

Astarion stills. His muscles flex and relax chaotically. You look up at him, and his eyes are tightly shut with his teeth grit together so harshly they rasp sickeningly. The tendons in his neck jut out unnaturally. His hands are balled into fists at his side. You reach up and cradle his face, and he snarls threateningly, but you sweep your thumb across his cheek.

“Hey, eyes on me, Astarion.” You echo his words from earlier when he had saved you from your own morbid, intrusive thoughts.

His eyes open slowly and meet yours, “Easy now. You’ve got this.”

Quiet minutes tick by without a word from either of you. You watch the war raging inside him through his eyes. They flash from cold and dead to the crimson warmth you recognize and back again while he battles with himself.

With a slight shake of his head, his whole body relaxes instantly, and his eyes warm again.

“I… I apologize. I…”

“Lost yourself, I know.”

He pushes you back and looks you up and down, “Are you hurt?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me, but I burnt you. Apologies.”

He looks at the reddened marking on his pale hand, “Think nothing of it. I heal quickly.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.”

Astarion’s eyes look at the floor, ashamed of himself, “Are you going to leave? I’ll take you home if you wish.”

“No. I believe we still have terms to discuss.”

“You’re still going to help me?”

You smile, “Always.”

“You truly are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

His confession at Moonrise rings through your mind. The memory is overlayed in sorrow, and your chest clenches tightly, remembering his words, “I want us to be something real.”

You thrust the thought away as quickly as it reared up, “Are you okay now, or do you need a moment?”

“No. I’m fine. We can continue with your demands. You will not live here, no lovers, what else?” He smirks, “You are a particularly demanding little thing tonight.”

“You need to teach me how to hunt so I can feed myself.”

“We’ve swayed to this particular song already, love. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, I remember. I will endeavour to be a better pupil this time.”

He chuckles, “You may get the hang of it in a century or two or three. Fine. I will do my best to educate you. Anything else?”

“When this is over, I want my freedom. I know you won’t turn me into a True Vampire, but I want to be free to decide my fate.”

“Why do you think I won’t?”

“You told me as much. “Trust me, it doesn’t happen.” After you turned me, I was too blinded to realize you were saying what I wanted to hear in honeyed lies. I am not so naive anymore."

He scowls but takes a deep breath, “Then you will have it, my dear.”

Big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read/follow/like/reblog/comment/etc. I'm honoured to know you're enjoying reading my fics!

I'm sorry this chapter took awhile to come out - I've rewritten it so many times I've lost count, so I hope you like it!

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

AO3 [Crossposted]

#ascended astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion x you #astarion smut #astarion #soft ascended astarion #astarion x oc #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x named tav

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year

Text

«And all I can breathe is your life

A/n: here it is! That Leon Vendatta angst with a happy ending I was talking about.

He was drinking again, something he did his best to stop when he met and married you.

Ironic thing was that you were the very reason to why he was drowning himself in alcohol in the first place. It should have been him, it’s what he kept telling himself.

It.Should.Have.Been.Him.

+•+

Chris had wished he could go another specialist, go to anyone about this but Kennedy was his only option.

It felt wrong to bother him, it made his skin crawl knowing that he couldn’t even let the man grieve over the death of his wife. He couldn’t imagine what he was going through, didn’t want to imagine what it must feel like to have your soul mate ripped from you, the one you love just gone in a blink of an eye.

He’s meet you a handful of times thanks to Claire, he knew how close you had been with his sister. Working his jaw he slipped out of the car glancing over at Rebecca. “Let’s get this over with.” Chris muttered.

+•+

It was the one thing he kept replaying in his mind over and over.

A stupid argument over something he couldn’t even remember. Something that he wished he could have taken back.

The image of your tears streaming down your face, the slamming of the door echoing in the back of his mind like some sick joke.

Because if that stupid argument had never happened then you’d still be alive and he wouldn’t be alone.

Drinking. It was the easiest thing to do to try and forget your face. To drown out the memories of your laughter, your smile.

And even though he tried to drink away your memory it didn’t stop him from calling your number just to hear you voice.

It didn’t stop him from staring at the wore out picture of you on his wallet.

“I really am a gluten for punishment aren’t I.” Leon didn’t even bother to look up from Rebecca’s concerned gaze, his finger hovering over your name, tempted to hear your voice one more time. “You sure you want to be near me Doc. People tend to die around me….Y/n….she didn’t stand a chance.”

Rebecca opened her mouth though nothing came out, she didn’t know how to answer that. She wasn’t even sure how could answer something like that. She didn’t like seeing him so cynical. “Leon.”

“Did Chris tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Unscrewing the cap to his flask he nearly scoffed, ignoring the burning of the alcohol he did his best not to snap at her. “That I’m the reason why my wife is dead.”

+•+

Wincing from the bright light you were about to groan at Leon to turn off the lamp until it hit you.

You were kidnapped. You were kidnapped by some psycho because you resembled his dead wife. Doing your best to push down the sudden panic you noticed your writes tied. “Mother fucker.”

It was the same thing for the past month, the man would come in. Say you belonged to him, you’d scream until your voice was raw, demand that he let you go. He’s refuse and then you would be knocked out by some gas.

Same cycle.

Rinse and repeat.

“I see our dear Princess has finally awoken.” Just hearing his voice made your skin crawl.

“Go fuck yourself! You kidnapped me you nutcase.”

Stepping close the man cupped your chin, his thumb gliding over your lips. “Kidnapping is such s strong word. I would like to call it…rehomed.” Uncuffing you from your chair while still keeping your wrists bound the man pulled you in to his chest. “Such a beauty….I have something to show you.”

Not letting you get a chance to reply, the man started to tug you down halls. So many that it was starting to make your head spin. “When my husband finds you he’s going to fucking kill you.” You snapped but that only made him laugh.

“You mean that man right there?”

And suddenly the whole room was lit up, a screen flickering on. Your heart lurched seeing him, he looked so tired, so sad. “Leon.”

“Kill them.”

Snapping your head up you didn’t even get chance as the feed cut out, you could hear the gone go off as your jumped towards the screen. Leon’s name spilled from your lips as the man, Arias you had come to find yanked you back to his chest. His fingers running through your hair, letting you as you sobbed.

“Shh….now you have no one.No one knows you’re here. So just accept your fate and be my wife.”

Raising your head, you quickly spat in the man’s face only to feel a harsh slap against your skin. Looking up at the man you didn’t care what happened to you now, not anymore. “Fuck you, I’d rather die.”

Rolling his neck, Arias grabbed you by the arm. A yelp escaping your lips as he tugged you to another room. Tossing you in, he turned his back locking the door as your hands started to slam on the metal.

“You piece of shit! Let me out”

Wrists raw you stumbled away from the door. Tears swelling in your eyes as your backed into a corner. Sitting down you drew your knees close to your chest, wrists still bound you then started to sob.

Leon was gone and you never felt more alone.

+•+

Rebecca was more than grateful to be searching for any survivors. She rather not be dealing with whatever Leon and Chris were handling yet with everyone one she checked she couldn’t find a single person.

Until she came to the last door, she could barley see a figure sitting down, the contrast of the white dress was whet stood out though her eyes went wide when she realized who it was.

Who you were.

“Y/n….Y/n Kennedy? Holy shit! Am I ever glad to see you.” Giving you a smile, Rebecca slipped into the room quickly checking you over. “You’re alright…right?”

Blinking, you bit your lip as she undid your cuffs though you were trying to rack your brain on who she was. “I’m…I’m fine. Who are you?”

“Oh! I’m Rebecca Chambers! Chris Redfield and your husband sent me to find survivors an- Hey! Wait! Where are you going.”

‘Leon’…Leon was alive?!’

Heart pounding in your chest you grasped the edges of the white dress as you took off running, hells flying off but you didn’t care. You had to see him, you had to be in his arms again.

“I’m coming Leon.”

+•+

Chris rolled his neck, he couldn’t wait to go home and rest though maybe he shouldnt leave Leon alone. With Arias dead, he wasn’t sure what might happen to him now.

“Leon.”

Scoffing, Leon turned his head. He had half a mind to reach for his flask but that was long gone now. “You don’t need to Leon me. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s Bullshit Leon you need to talk about this.About your wi-.”

“Don’t Chris I don’t want too-.”

“Leon!”

Tensing for a moment Leon squeezed his eyes shut,he had to be going crazy because how he was hearing your voice. Head turning to the sound, his eyes went wide for a fraction of a second until he started to run.

It couldn’t be you, it couldn’t. You were dead! They told him your were dead! That nothing was left of your body. Yet here you were running towards him and then your were in his arms.

You were in his arms and of felt so good.

Leon didn’t even realize that he had fallen to his knees, that his body was shaking and tears were spilling from his eyes and he didn’t care. He didn’t care because you were alive.

Threading your fingers through the man’s hair, you placed a kiss to the side of his head. You felt him desperately holding on. His fingers digging into the fabric of the dress. You were so happy, so happy knowing he was okay, that you were both going to be okay.

“I’m sorry Y/n…I’m sorry. I should have never fought…that night I shouldn’t have.”

“Shh”Kneeling down you brushed the man’s tears away as you gave him a smile. “You have nothing to apologize for Leon…I’m just happy you’re here.”

Chuckling weakly, Leon buried his face into your neck inhaling your scent deeply. He couldn’t wait to get you home, to have you in his arms again.

+•+

It was getting close to it being four months since the incident and it, something Chris was grateful for since it means he was slowly putting that moment behind him. Grabbing a hold of the mail he started to slip through the junk until he paused on one particular piece.

One letter, addressed from one Leon Scott Kennedy.

Hit with a sense of curiosity, he sat down at table reading it. An invitation for a diner, a thank you for pulling him out of his depression, and for making him tag along because if he didn’t then it meant he wouldn’t have found you and a thank you for giving him a chance to be a father.

Snorting, Chris pulled out his phone ringing up the man’s number. “Congrats Kennedy….you coulda called ya know…but ya.I’d love to see you two again. I mean I am gonna be godfather to this kid right.”

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