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#but now. starting to get the same pains again. starting to see the similarities. the overlap.
b1anketplask · 1 day
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(BOS lore)
Dear My Pettigrew (Gordon POV)
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PS: The story takes place when Edward and Gordon are three weeks broken up for some reason. (Gordon's POV)
It's about three weeks now. Edward broken up with me for his new start. And Yes I'm so happy to Edward got better and move on, But I was so furious about broken up. I know I have to respect Edward, But I still don't understand why did he choose this way exactly...
Edward Pettigrew. He was an engine who was very afraid to start and end other relationships in the past. I think the 'Timothy incident' came too shocking to him. He did not intend to come out of his shed since the incident, So Henry and I had to take over his job. At first I used to knocking on his door aggressively because it was so annoying to do his job cuz of that incident. I didn't understand his pain.
Henry had a lot of complaints, too, but he did nothing but grumble in front of his door. But after time, I sometimes sat in front of Timothy's door and consoled him when the anniversary of his death came. tell him that Timothy will be fine into his heart forever.
So I started to bring up the nature baptism to him in front of his door. He didn't like it at the time, but I was just worried about him. As time passed, he seemed to be waiting for me to come to him. And he even gave me a short response or advice sometimes.
After all that time, Edward almost recovered, and even Henry joined, and me, Edward, and Henry worked together. But other than that, I spent a lot of time alone with Edward. Some days, we both ran to Brandam because we suddenly wanted to see the sea.
And I finally realized that... I like Edward a lot. But Not in a friendly way... there was a difference. My heart beat faster than any other engines when I saw him, and I wanted to protect him. Even with my life held for him.
And I confessed that feeling to him. He thought he was agonizing for a moment, but he soon accepted, crying, and that's how we became lovers.
And even after I broke up with him, he treated me like a friend as if nothing had happened. I looked at it and was angry that he might have forgotten me, so I deliberately gave him a cold shoulder.
But he didn't care about it, rather he helped me more often. And then someone came to the railway.
His name is James Hughes. Same size as him and It was a bit of a pompous engine doing something similar to Edward's job. He suddenly appeared at the Railway and began to approach Edward in a friendly manner. And he would sometimes go somewhere with James, as if he didn't hate it. It's like we used to go somewhere together in the past.
So I dragged him into the group with Henry and me, and we striked together. That's why he didn't get to see Edward much. It was successful as a result.
But after that, when the plan went up in smoke, James casually talked to Edward again. I didn't like it, and some days I just looked down on James after He finish his conversation with Edward.
"So, Back to bored old thing again?"
I said, then he said
"What the hell are you mean? I'm just talking to him. that's all you stupid metal head."
Yeah. This was the exactly what he said to me. It was obvious that he thought Edward really liked him. But I didn't lose to him and I answered
"Oh please. You're just a poser who thinks You're the best and everyone like you. a filthy wooden break."
"What did you just say?"
James said in fume, But I didn't care.
"I mean James, You don't know anything about Edward much as I do."
When I mentioned Edward, his face turned red as his coat. And he got mad at me.
"That means You and him are-"
"Yeah. We were so close that Edward forgot about you when he's with me."
I can't remember exactly what I said by spouting anything just to ignore James. I only remember him slapping me all of a sudden
"Listen to me You big ass galloping sausage! I don't know why are you even start this shit, But I don't care! You're just a jealousy engine that wants us to spilt!"
When I heard that, my head went blank. I'm jealous of him? Why should I? How?
When I came to my senses and looked at him, James already gone to the Tidmouth, and I was sitting in the knapfort, cooling my head for a while. then... Edward came next to me.
"Well, That's how you feel? how are you feel about me and James?"
Edward was surprisingly calm. He knelt down and patted me on the cheek that James hit. And sat next to me and stood still.
"Did you heard everything I said?"
"Yes. I didn't miss a word that came out of your mouth and I heard everything"
I had a lot of thoughts for a moment. Actually, I just wanted to run away from the spot. Who knew he'd be listening to everything?
"But I can't say that I completely 'hate' it"
"What do you mean by that?"
"That's how much you haven't forgotten me yet. Aren't you saying you like it the same as when we were together?"
I couldn't answer what he said. Because he was only saying the right thing about my stupid words. He looked at the setting sun for a moment, then raised me to my feet.
"But you know you have to apologize for being rude to James, right? I'm a little disappointed in that part."
"Ugh, Alright. If you say so."
As soon as he said it, he blushed and smiled shyly. It was his smile after a long time.
After that, went to James, gave him a cup of coffee and apologized. He accepted the apology with unexpected ease. And he had coffee, I had tea, and we were standing awkwardly, and I spoke to him first.
"You know, please be sweet to Edward."
"What?"
He spilled some coffee on the gravel, panicking at the words.
"I- I didn't say what am I think about him! Don't be so sure!"
He didn't know what to do when his face turned red as He flusted.
"Heh, Yeah I hear you very well... But Seriously. Be sweet to Him. He is a weak-hearted engine, contrary to his appearance"
At that, James nodded and drank all the coffee and went into the Shed.
Dear my Pettigrew, I want you to forgive me for not being honest with you. I feel ashamed that I fought with someone else over you. I hated it when you left. But it's different now. Even if we're not lovers, I know you care so much about me. It's been a while, but I still love you so much Edward Pettigrew.
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mommypieck · 5 months
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⌗︙・jjk men waking up after a wet dream about you ⸜⸜・
gojo
a small chuckle leaves his mouth when he wakes up from a pleasant dream about you. his cock is aching for attention, precum already building at the top. it's the first time he had a dream about you. not to lie, he fantasized about your cute little body before but never in a dream. he wraps his hand around his cock and tries to remember little details about the dream. the way you would bounce on his cock or your little hand wrapped around it. he's not ashamed, you're a pretty girl after all. but from your behavior, he can see that you're shy and timid. maybe he can ask you out to turn his dream true. he speeds his hand around his cock, bringing himself closer to his orgasm. he thinks about a specific scene from his dream - you spread in front of him with your fingers in your cunt. he cums at the thought, covering his hand with his cock. he giggles, gojo hopes he will have similar dream soon.
geto
he wakes up with sweat on his forehead, groaning when he notices his hard on. the girl in his dream was too similar to you, same hair, eyes, body type. he can't believe he had this kind of dream about you. it was a good dream, he has to say. geto can't decide if he should take a cold shower and forget about everything or take care of his little problem. after all, he's gonna see you today and he doesn't wanna be awkward. his lips turn into a little smile as he thinks about what would happen if you saw what he is about to do. or what if you had the same dream? mmm, you took his cock so well in his dream, would you be able to do that in real life? he's seen your tiny ass move in your little skirts, you would have problem taking him for sure. fuck it, he thinks as he wraps his hand around his cock. he softly massages his shaft, imagining that it's your tiny hand stroking him. all problems leave him in that moment, he's gonna relive that dream now and hopefully later today when he invites you over.
nanami
he groans when he finally opens his eyes to meet a familiar decor of his room. he doesn't wanna think about it, he doesn't wanna think about how hard his cock is right now. he throws his arm around his eyes, trying to breathe deeply to forget all about the dream. he hasn't had a wet dream since he was a teenager and now someone like you is gonna make them pop up again? he thought you were cute when he first met you but he never thought you would be capable of doing such a slutty things. it was just a dream, he has to remind himself, maybe you are innocent. he taps his fingers on his cock, he really doesn't wanna do this. nanami tries to think of different porn starts he's seen online but his thoughts come back to you. his hand finally grips his cock and he squeezes it until it's painful. it's all your fault, maybe it you weren't so cute, he wouldn't have to do this.
toji
she's even haunting me in my dream, toji thinks when he wakes up. his cock is already standing proudly, just begging for him to take it in his hand. he doesn't waste any time wrapping his hand around it. he always thought you were pretty, your body is basically all he ever dreamed about. it's not the first time you appeared in his dream but this time, he is certain that it was you. all of the other dreams were blurry but this one was way more vivid. he strokes his cock slowly, thinking about the way you bended for him in that dream. the only thing that's pissing him off is that you're not here with him right now, that you can't use your mouth or your little pussy on him. he feels himself getting close as he thinks about all the things he would do to you if he could. he cums on his hand, surprising himself how strong this orgasm was. there's something about you and he has to find out what it is.
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jillianallen14 · 8 months
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Dear Baby Bats - Goth Band Recommendations
As a middle sibling goth (I’ve been in the subculture for close to 10 years now, so not a baby bat but not an elder goth either), let me turn you on to some bands because we do not gatekeep in this house!! Also, if you want consistently good lesser-known & brand new goth band recs, go follow Awfully Sinister on TikTok and Instagram. He’s a DJ & has great recs. I've found so much music through him because it's really hard to keep up with all the new bands cropping up every year. You want to avoid the goth subreddit because they are extremely gatekeeper-y and argue over labels constantly. It’ll just confuse you, and they are not nice over there.
If you’re very new to the subculture, and you haven’t yet listened to all of Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, Christian Death, Cocteau Twins, Clan of Xymox, Joy Division, and Depeche Mode, go do so now. You'll want to know which of them you really enjoy the most because it will help you know which sub-subgenre(s) of goth you want to watch out for, and it'll tell you what to look for to find it. For example, Sisters of Mercy is the gothic rock subgenre, Christian Death is deathrock, Cocteau Twins is ethereal wave, Clan of Xymox is like the original darkwave, Joy Division is classic post-punk, etc.
I’ve bolded some of my absolute must-listen to goth bands, and I've put monthly Spotify listeners for each band so you know which ones deserve WAY more love. And in my pre-list ramblings for each OG band, I've given you some key terms to look up so you can more easily find music that's similar to what you enjoy. Okay, here we go:
If you like Bauhaus:
Bauhaus is a hard one because honestly, nobody really sounds like them, and they aren't really that closely associated with a specific sub-subgenre of goth. They have an extremely unique sound. They’re my favorite band of all time (I even have a tattoo for them, like I am devoted lol), but even I have a difficult time finding other bands that scratch their particular itch for me. These bands I’ve listed are as close as you’re gonna get imo.
Virgin Prunes (80’s band that has absolutely unhinged music in the way Bauhaus has unhinged music; one of my favorites; no one else does it like them and no one else ever will; I would actually give my left foot to see them live); 13.2k monthly listeners (this is actually physically painful to me, how is it this low!!! don't walk, RUN to go listen to them)
Alien Sex Fiend (80’s classic unhinged goth); 77k monthly listeners
Sextile (modern band that has some very Bauhaus-sounding guitar work at times); 147k listeners
The Danse Society (80’s unhinged goth; has similar experimental vibes to Bauhaus imo); 36k listeners
Sex Beat (80’s band); not even really on Spotify
Ritual Howls (modern band; I don’t know why it gives Bauhaus, but it does; one of the few modern bands that scratches that particular itch for me); 45k listeners
The Agnes Circle (modern band; one of my favorites; they have the right Bauhaus-like atmosphere for me); 52k listeners
Traitrs (I can’t explain why they remind me of Bauhaus, but they do; another one of my fave modern bands; they make me want to start levitating and doing the Ian Curtis dance in the same way Bauhaus does lol); 239k listeners
Paralisis Permanente (underrated 80’s; they have a lot in common with Bauhaus’s sound actually, def give them a try!); 54k monthly listeners
If you like Siouxsie and the Banshees:
Siouxsie is another one that's hard to pin down sound-wise because again, they don't really fit into one specific sub-subgenre, so all of these recs are just goth bands with female vocalists who have the same kind of powerful vocals that Siouxsie does.
Second Still (modern band; singer sounds a lot like Siouxsie to me at times); 69k listeners
Skeletal Family (80’s band; has the same “women in punk” vibes that Siouxsie has); 55k listeners
Xmal Deutschland (80’s band; has the same powerful vocals that Siouxsie has; makes you wanna go stupid go crazy the way the Banshees do); 73k listeners
Secret Shame (modern band w/ w woman singer; has the same rage that Siouxsie songs have to me, especially early Siouxsie); 6k listeners (let's get those numbers up, folks!!!)
Rosegarden Funeral Party (modern band w/ a woman vocalist); 57k listeners
Mephisto Walz (90s & 2000s; sounds so much like the Banshees at times); 56k listeners
If you like Depeche Mode:
For Depeche Mode enjoyers (which DM is kind of on the fringes of what’s considered “goth,” but they’re so entrenched in the subculture that I included them anyway), you’re gonna want to delve into modern goth playlists that have a lot of EBM (electronic body music) and modern goth that leans towards synthpop/synthwave. So those are the kinds of playlists you’ll want to search up for similar sounds to DM.
Nuovo Testamento (modern band; combines post-punk and pop elements in a way that’s very similar to Depeche Mode; lots of fun live, and they have a good sound); 25k listeners
Boy Harsher (modern band; relies heavily on synth; feels like it should be playing at every goth club); 558k listeners
ULTRA SUNN (modern band; singer sounds like Dave Gahan); 217k listeners (they just blew up on tiktok recently, which explains why this just skyrocketed since the last time I was on their Spotify page lol; good for them, good for them, they deserve it)
Ministry's first album, which was synthwave/synthpop before they went industrial (this is one of my all-time favorite albums)
French Police (modern band); 252k listeners
Closed Tear (modern band); 152k listeners
Night Sins (modern band); 33k listeners
Panic Priest (modern band; vocals sound decently similar to Dave Gahan & there is a lot of reliance on synth; In All Severity is a gorgeous song); 5k listeners
Fad Gadget (underrated 80’s band; I just feel like if you like DM, you’re also gonna like this band); 58k listeners
If you like The Cure:
You'll be hard-pressed to find a goth band that wasn't influenced by The Cure, so I really can't give you any key terms for what to look up lol. They also changed their sound so frequently that it entirely depends on what era of The Cure's music you're looking to find similar music for.
Vision Video (modern band; combines post-punk and pop elements like The Cure does; one of my fave modern goth bands; they are INCREDIBLE live); 52k listeners (I'm gonna need y'all to get a song or two of theirs to blow up on tiktok expeditiously lol)
Urban Heat (modern band; great live); 36k listeners
The Chameleons (80’s band; very underrated; they are also very good live); 167k listeners
House of Harm (modern band, very new; also very good live; has pop elements); 44k listeners
Deceits (modern band, another very new one); 28k listeners (it's crazy how much this number has grown the past two months because it was in the single thousands not that long ago; everyone say thank you, tiktok)
Drab Majesty (modern band; their instrumentals remind me of The Cure); 172k listeners
Double Echo (modern band; their instrumentals also remind me of The Cure); 15k listeners (let's get these numbers up!!!)
The Bolshoi (underrated 80’s band that combines new wave and goth elements in a similar way to The Cure); 114k listeners
The Essence (underrated 80s band that sounds so much like The Cure it’s actually insane, but they’ve got their own sound too; they’re like a perfect blend of all of The Cure’s different sounds); 25k monthly listeners
Miss Teen America (brand new band from NYC! They only have one single out right now, and it’s well worth listening to); 940 monthly listeners (y’all know what to do!!! Let’s get those numbers up, up, up!) link to their single: https://open.spotify.com/album/4nvdZeUVLLrMv3tEziCqm7?si=2WVS7-eYQLGR7Id3wLiKhg
If you like Clan of Xymox:
Most of these bands will be modern ones because Clan of Xymox was honestly way ahead of their time. (They are also amazing live, so go see them before they eventually call it quits!) For playlists that are full of their vibe, you’re gonna want to look up “darkwave” playlists and also some EBM. Clan of Xymox pioneered darkwave, so any darkwave band you listen to is gonna be influenced by their sound in some way or another.
Harsh Symmetry (modern, very new; very heavily relies on synth); 29k listeners
Ssleeping Desiress (modern band; instrumentals similar to Xymox); 55k listeners
Twin Tribes (probably my favorite modern goth band; they are fucking incredible, and I’m dying to see them live); 276k listeners
ACTORS (modern band; heavily relies on synth); 86k listeners
Mareux (modern; heavily relies on synth); 4.8 million listeners (this is wild!!!! everyone say thank you, tiktok)
Sixth June (modern); 23k listeners
Plastique Noir (modern); 40k listeners
Rendez Vous (modern); 160k listeners
Minuit Machine (modern); 97k listeners
If you like Christian Death:
All of these recs will be deathrock recs or goth bands that heavily leaned on punk sounds. So if CD is the OG goth band you’re most fond of, you’re gonna want to delve into deathrock playlists for similar sounds.
Asylum Party (80’s band); not on spotify
45 Grave (80’s band); 47k listeners
Voodoo Church (80’s band; probably my favorite out of this bunch; I actually like them more than Christian Death); 7k listeners (let's get these numbers up immediately!!!!)
Ausgang (80’s band); 2k listeners (WHAT; they deserve so much more, damn)
Corpus Delicti (90’s band; they are very good; they sound the least like Christian Death on this list imo); 26k listeners
13th Chime (80’s band; very underrated); 6k listeners
The Birthday Party (80’s band; very unhinged sound); 54k listeners
UK Decay (you know, I actually don’t know what era they’re from; unhinged sound); 1k listeners (omg)
Super Heroines (underrated 80’s band); 2k listeners (you see what I meant about underrated?)
Specimen (80s band; this one could have just as easily gone under Bauhaus tbh, but the vocals are generally higher pitched than Peter Murphy’s, so I put them under this category); 102k listeners
Sex Gang Children (80’s band; just so unhinged & I love them for it); 27k listeners
Suspiria (90s, I think? I don’t actually know); barely on Spotify but 27k listeners
Theatre of Hate (80s); 7k listeners
Bloody Dead and Sexy (2000s, I think); 44k listeners
If you like Cocteau Twins:
Cocteau Twins’ early sound is usually categorized as “ethereal wave” goth, so those are the playlists you’ll want to look up if you enjoy their early sound. If you like their later sound, you’re gonna want to lean more towards shoegaze for similar vibes.
Dead Can Dance (80’s band; NO one, and I mean NO ONE, was doing it like Dead Can Dance; so fun to dance to in the goth club); 332k listeners
Lycia (90’s band; their music is very transcendent); 20k listeners
Linea Aspera (modern band; gorgeous woman vocals; honestly, their music is just very beautiful); 67k listeners
This Mortal Coil (formed in the 80s; some songs feature Elizabeth Fraser & Robin Guthrie from Cocteau Twins, but even the ones that don’t still have an ethereal vibe similar to CT; Sixteen Days/Gathering Dust is just like the best song ever); 310k listeners
If you like Joy Division:
All of these bands will be ones that sound very classically post-punk, so those are the playlists to search out; emphasis on "classic" because post-punk is a very broad term that gets applied to a lot of music. I would argue that Joy Division has had the most influence out of all the OG goth bands on the current goth sound/goth renaissance we're going through right now, so there are a LOT of bands out there for you if you’re a JD fan.
Molchat Doma (modern band); 2.5 million listeners (wow lol, they've grown so much over the past two years, it's actually insane; good for them)
Soviet Soviet (modern band); 152k listeners
Fearing (modern band; very good live); 30k listeners
Ploho (modern band); 146k listeners
Pink Turns Blue (criminally underrated 80’s band; they are SO good live); 98k listeners (this is an actual travesty, this band is way too good to not even be in the hundred thousands)
The Sound (another incredibly underrated 80’s band); 119k listeners
This Cold Night (modern; has the deep vocals of Joy Division and the driving bass); 150k listeners
Bleib Modern (modern); has very similar vocals to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, which is a band listed under the Sisters of Mercy section of this post, so if you end up liking this band, you should also listen to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry & vice versa; 36k listeners
Lebanon Hanover (modern; has the existential angst that Joy Division always ignites in me); 936k listeners (this is crazy, holy shit!!!!!! go, Lebanon Hanover, go!! now if only they would tour the damn US)
She Past Away (modern; deep vocals); 226k listeners
Belgrado (modern; woman vocals!); 18k listeners (they deserve better than this!!)
Leonora Post Punk (modern; Mexican goth band w/ Spanish vocals, so support them! They’re amazing! They have those deep vocals you want when you’re looking for a similar sound to Joy Division); 56k listeners
O. Children (modern; has the deep vocals & interesting bass lines that Joy Division was known for; great band); 29k listeners
If you like Sisters of Mercy:
This is one of my least favorite goth subcategories, which is odd because I actually love Sisters. But if you’re looking for a lot of music that sounds like SoM, I’d suggest delving into the 90’s and early 2000’s goth music scene. Search out those playlists.
Rosetta Stone (90’s band); 54k listeners
Miazma (modern); 10k listeners
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry (another criminally underrated 80’s band; one of my fave goth bands); 40k listeners (THEY!! DESERVE!! BETTER!!)
Dreamtime (modern); 65 listeners (ouch lol, please go show them some love)
Fields of the Nephilim (80’s, I think; if you’re a metalhead, you’ll probably appreciate this band); 95k listeners
The Merry Thoughts (80s); 19k listeners
The March Violets (underrated 80s; might be a controversial opinion to put them under SoM, but I’m standing by it); 69k listeners
Horror Vacui (modern; it’s kind of a stretch putting them here tbh, but I couldn’t figure out what other category to put them under); 44k listeners
Also, if you want a 1500-song, 105-hour goth playlist that’s constantly growing, here you go. The name of it is a dig at my ex lol: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6jCV530pMmOEmDHj4CLNka?si=cEVKiyAwQpaieGiV2pMyqw
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suzukiblu · 8 months
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excerpt from in-progress "timebending with Zuko" fic
Zuko wakes up and everything hurts.
Most specifically, his scar hurts.
That . . . doesn’t make sense, he thinks, and reaches for it automatically. A strong hand catches his wrist before he can touch it, which seems–fair, yes. Probably a good idea, anyway, because spirits does it hurt. Just . . . so much.
“Uncle?” he asks reflexively, attempting to open his eyes. It’s surprisingly difficult. And Uncle is in Ba Sing Se, of course, but he’s on his back on a futon or bedroll or something similar and someone’s sitting beside him and his head is swimming and he’s injured, clearly, so options for who said “someone” might be are limited, really.
So it’s not Uncle, obviously, but . . .
“Nephew,” Uncle says, very quietly, and Zuko . . . blinks.
At least, half-blinks. The one eye’s in too much pain to open.
The ceiling is metal, he notes absentmindedly. That’s . . . odd. He was in the palace, wasn't he?
“What happened?” he asks, vaguely bemused. Uncle pauses in a very concerning way, and Zuko has about three heart attacks about just how badly he doesn’t want to know what he’s about to say before–
“The Agni Kai,” Uncle says, very carefully. “Do you remember it?”
Zuko frowns–just with the one side of his face, because again, his scar hurts right now. To the point that his whole body feels wrong, does his scar hurt right now.
“Um–which one?” he asks, because there’s been about a dozen this month alone, and frankly he’s getting really sick of fighting them at this point but if the old guard of nobles are just going to keep dragging everything out like this–
“With your father, Nephew,” Uncle says, very carefully.
Zuko . . . blinks.
“Oh,” he says, vaguely perplexed. Uncle never talks to him about that. “Yeah, I remember that. What about it?”
“Do you remember what happened?” Uncle says.
“The part where I disgraced myself or the part where he burned my face?” Zuko says, because it’s so fucked up and awful and horrible that he can’t even get upset about it anymore, except when he’s really upset about it. But if Uncle’s bringing it up, presumably he has a good reason to be, so . . . “Or the whole ‘go find the Avatar who no one even believes exists anymore or you can never come home again’ part?”
“. . . all of that, yes,” Uncle says, still sounding very careful. Zuko frowns a little–again with just the one side of his face–and then looks over at him. His body still feels weird and wrong, but . . .
But . . .
They’re on a ship, he realizes. A Fire Nation one.
Well, explains the metal ceiling.
It doesn’t explain why Uncle is wearing red armor and a topknot like he hasn't in years, though, or why he looks so unspeakably sad.
“Um,” Zuko says, and attempts to sit up. His head immediately starts swimming even worse, and Uncle catches his shoulders and keeps him pinned against the . . . futon? Looks like a futon, yeah. “Where are we, exactly?”
“We are aboard a ship,” Uncle says. “I . . . may have slightly commandeered it.”
“. . . you paid for it, right?” Zuko asks, a little skeptical at that idea.
“Yes, Nephew, I did,” Uncle says, giving him a very tired, pained smile. Zuko doesn’t feel much better, seeing it.
“Is someone dead?” he asks, because he can’t think of anything else that would make Uncle look that way.
“Ah–no, no one has died,” Uncle says.
“Then what’s wrong?” Zuko asks warily.
“. . . you are injured, Nephew,” Uncle says, slowly. Zuko frowns, bemused. “And your father . . . I did not know he was going to do this. I am so sorry.”
Zuko . . . pauses. Looks around the room again, and then realizes: he knows this room, doesn’t he. He knows this ship.
This is the same ship he woke up on after the Agni Kai.
“Hold that thought, Uncle,” he says, then lifts his hands and looks at them. They . . . well, they are his hands, obviously.
But they’re not his hands, obviously.
“Huh,” he says, frowning in bemusement at them; turning them around like he half-expects them to stop being a thirteen year-old’s or something equally ridiculous. They don’t. They are very definitely a thirteen year-old’s hands.
Specifically, his thirteen year-old hands.
Huh.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says after a moment, putting his hands back down and glancing back to Uncle, who’s obviously the more important concern. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I took you into that meeting,” Uncle says, his voice tight. “And I watched the Agni Kai. And I did nothing to stop any of it.”
“I know,” Zuko says. “But it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” Uncle says, his smile a sad and terrible thing. “You were there because of my actions. My mistakes.”
“You’re not the one who wanted to sacrifice all those soldiers,” Zuko says. “Or the one who decided to throw fire at my face.”
“You were there because of me,” Uncle repeats, his voice tight and his smile no less terrible. It occurs to Zuko, briefly, that Uncle must be thinking of Lu Ten.
He only ever looks like that when he’s thinking about Lu Ten, so . . .
“Uncle,” he says. “Really. It’s not your fault.”
“Nephew,” Uncle says, and his voice is somehow even tighter. Zuko tries to get up again, and his head swims again, and Uncle moves to stop him again. This time he grabs onto Uncle’s wrists and uses them to pull himself up, and then . . .
Well, then he’s sitting up, at least.
So that’s something.
He tilts his head and his hair slips into his eyes. It’s loose, and long. Not shaved on the sides yet, like he wore it the last time he was thirteen. He supposes he should cut it, but then again, why should he? He's not changing anything, after all.
Except for this conversation, he supposes, because that went very differently last time.
. . . hm.
"Uncle," he says one more time, and reaches out for him. Uncle doesn’t seem to understand what he’s trying to do, so he has to reach out a little farther, and then Uncle makes the connection and leans in and lets him wrap his arms around him and alright, yes: that’s better, Zuko thinks, and clings to him.
Just a little, perhaps, but . . .
Yes. He clings to him.
Uncle wraps his arms around him in turn, very carefully, and makes an awful sound.
“My boy,” he chokes. “I’m so–I’m so–”
“I forgive you,” Zuko lies, because of course there’s nothing to forgive.
But of course Uncle doesn’t understand that, does he.
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rinhaler · 5 months
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𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜
would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k
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“This seems a little…”
“What?”
“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”
“No!” Maisie objects.
She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.
You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.
You’re content being alone.
“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”
“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”
“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”
“I’ll do it.”
“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.
You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.
“How do you know him?”
“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.
You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.
She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.
“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”
“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”
“Sure.”
“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”
“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.
She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.
However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.
“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.
This is so her.
She’s more excited for this date than you are.
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“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”
“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”
“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.
You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.
If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.
As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.
Still so committed to the blindness of the date.
It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.
They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.
Oh God.
You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.
Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.
And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.
You decide to offer him some grace.
Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.
Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.
YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉
Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?
Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.
Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.
You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.
And, really, you’re speechless.
He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.
But you know better.
While he knows nothing.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.
“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.
“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”
“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.
“I’m old fashioned, so—”
“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.
He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.
Your heart pounds furiously.
Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.
YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily
You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?
“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.
With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.
“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.
“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.
“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.
“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.
“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.
You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.
“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.
“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.
There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.
“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.
“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.
Let go.
You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.
“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.
“No, I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”
“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.
“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.
“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.
“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”
You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.
“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”
“Leave me alone.”
“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”
You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.
“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.
You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.
He terrified you.
And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.
“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.
But for some reason—
“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.
He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.
It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.
“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”
His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.
“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”
You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”
“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”
“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.
He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”
“He is not—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”
The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.
“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”
You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.
“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”
“No, no—”
“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.
“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.
And you’re powerless.
You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.
“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself
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Bowling.
You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.
Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.
“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.
You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.
For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.
“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”
“You remember?”
“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”
“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.
“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”
“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.
You decide to go for it.
He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.
“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”
“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”
“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.
He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.
“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.
“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.
“It can’t be that hard.”
“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.
All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.
If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.
You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.
“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”
“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”
“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.
You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.
It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.
He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.
“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.
He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.
You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.
“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.
“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”
“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.
You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.
“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.
“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.
He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.
His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.
“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”
You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.
“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.
“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”
“You thought I was cute?”
“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.
“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”
“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”
You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.
“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.
“What do you mean?”
“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.
“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”
“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”
“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.
He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.
You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.
“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.
“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”
“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.
“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.
You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.
But you don’t say that.
In fact, you barely say anything.
He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.
“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.
He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.
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You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.
It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.
He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.
“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.
“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.
“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”
“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.
“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.
He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.
You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.
“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.
“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.
You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.
“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.
“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.
“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.
“Shit, was it?”
“Absolutely.
You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.
He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.
It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.
There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.
He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.
“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.
He doesn’t want you to leave.
You don’t want to leave, either.
“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.
“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”
You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.
It’s been so long.
Too long.
You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.
He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.
“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.
You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.
“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.
You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.
And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.
“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.
He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.
Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?
You can’t.
You can’t.
You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.
But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.
“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.
You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.
When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.
You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.
“Hey—”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.
“Oh… really?”
“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.
“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.
You can’t.
You just can’t.
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You can’t fucking sleep.
It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.
But you can’t sleep.
Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.
Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?
You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.
The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.
You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.
When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.
You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.
You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.
As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.
“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”
“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.
“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.
You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.
You can’t.
You can’t.
But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.
You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.
The only thing on your mind is how close he is.
“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.
One won’t come.
“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.
He should have left you be.
“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?
“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”
“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.
“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.
Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.
You can’t.
You can’t.
“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.
“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”
Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.
But look at you now.
Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.
It’s getting out of hand.
You can’t stop it.
You can’t help it.
“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.
You give him the opportunity to leer at you.
And he’s so thankful.
Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.
“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”
Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?
He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.
It doesn’t register to him, though.
You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.
“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.
You can’t.
You can’t.
“I know…” you confess.
You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.
He doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t.
And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.
You’re perfect.
“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.
You kiss him again.
And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.
“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”
You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.
You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.
“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.
And now, you’re ravenous.
Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.
And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.
You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.
And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.
You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.
“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.
“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”
“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…
His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.
“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.
You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.
But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.
He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.
You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.
You can’t.
Not anymore.
He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.
His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.
You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.
“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.
“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.
Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.
“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.
“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.
You just can’t.
Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.
The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
You’re pathetic, you think.
It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.
But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.
Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.
“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.
He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.
“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.
He can’t stop.
So he doesn’t.
He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.
And, hell, he might.
You say you can’t.
But why are you moaning for him?
“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.
“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.
You can’t reason with him, though.
Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.
“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”
“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.
Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.
He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.
He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”
You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?
“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.
“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”
“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.
He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.
There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.
The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.
You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.
It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.
“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.
A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.
At least, in the literal sense.
You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.
The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.
“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.
It wasn’t enough.
Three wasn’t enough.
The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.
He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.
He’s kissing away your tears.
“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”
It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.
Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.
Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.
He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.
Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.
You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.
“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.
You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.
“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.
“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.
“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.
The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.
It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.
“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”
“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.
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You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.
Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.
So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.
He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.
You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.
He got close.
Really close.
Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.
“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.
“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.
“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.
And he realises it isn’t his phone.
It’s yours.
He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.
“Hello?!” Maisie.
He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”
“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.
“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.
“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”
“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.
“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”
“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”
“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”
“W-What?”
“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”
“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.
“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”
“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”
“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.
You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.
“It was… fucking amazing.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months
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Astarion x f!reader. We Shall Meet Again
Read on AO3
Astarion and Tav are talking about life and death and end up talking about children tags: fluff, comfort, conversation about death and mortality Astarion mentions he wants to step into the sunlight once Tav dies so consider it a trigger warning Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
"Please, Astarion, I can walk on my own!" You try to free yourself, but the vampire drags you on his shoulders like a lifeless sack.
"No, you can't," he replies.
You let out a sigh of frustration. If only Astarion could see your expression, he would witness your disappointment.
The task seemed simple enough. The villagers promised a reward for getting rid of a troublesome troll. It should have been a routine quest for a pair of seasoned adventurers like you. And it had been until the troll hurled you against a tree. Astarion swiftly dealt with the monster, then hoisted you onto his shoulders, and now the two of you were making your way back to the village to get the reward.
"Please, just put me down," you implore.
"Your leg is broken," Astarion insists.
"No, it's not!" You let out a cry of pain as he touches the injured limb. "Fine, you win!"
Astarion chuckles softly as you continue to observe the grass and flowers below. Eventually, the fatigue overtakes you, causing you to black out. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself back in the village.
"We've agreed on five golden coins! Take your reward and go!"
"Yes, but my wife broke her leg, and now I must pay the healer," Astarion argues with a rogue smile. "Eight golden coins."
"Six! We haven't paid the tithe yet!"
"Seven. And your village healer cures her for free."
"Fine! But I don't want to see either of you ever again!"
"It can be arranged!"
The village chief throws a sack of gold to Astarion, and the vampire performs a theatrical bow as if on a stage. Then, he approaches you and gently kisses your forehead, his lips curving into a grin, though a hint of concern lingers in his crimson eyes.
"Don't worry, I'm too young to die just yet," you say as you caress his left cheek, and he closes his eyes, savoring the touch like a content cat.
"I know, but when that thing threw you at the tree, I thought for a second," he stumbles, his voice tinged with worry. "I thought you wouldn't get up."
You remember the wave of pain, the buzz in your ears, and Astarion kneeling beside you, carefully letting you drink a healing potion. He held you gently, his worry palpable as he waited for the potion to mend at least some damage.
He worries sick every time you get hurt. So do you - Astarion doesn't take physical damage easily.
The healer finally arrives, visibly annoyed that he was woken up in the middle of the night. He casts a spell on your leg, and you hear a gruesome sound as the bones fuse back together.
"You could at least be grateful for slaying that troll," you mutter.
The healer lets out a string of curses and leaves.
"Well, I think it's best if we find a spot to make camp before the sunrise," Astarion says.
"I don't think it would be safe to stay in the village anyway. They might start suspecting you're a vampire," you reply as the houses fade into the distance.
"Ungrateful lot," he chuckles.
You take his hand, and you together go into the night. It's been five years since you met at the shipwreck, five years since your unlikely union evolved into something deeper. You haven't grown tired of each other; if anything, you've grown closer, and you can't imagine spending a single night without Astarion by your side.
You are not even sure if you can fall asleep without him cuddling you.
You affectionately refer to each other as "wife" and "husband," even though there was no formal ceremony. One day, Astarion slipped a ring he'd found in a dungeon onto your finger, and you did the same after obtaining a similar one. It was as simple as that.
… The two of you stop and set up a tent as the skies lighten. The tent is crafted from thick, black material and reinforced with a darkness spell - a perfect daylight shelter for a vampire.
You've grown accustomed to the routine. At sunrise, you both go to sleep. When you wake up well past noon, Astarion stays inside, engrossed in the books you've collected on your adventures, while you head out to hunt. But sometimes, you keep the vampire company as he reads aloud.
And once the sun sets, you hit the road again. Both of you share the desire to see the world, and you want to see it together.
Exhausted from a long day of walking and the battle with the troll, you immediately fall asleep. When you wake up, you see Astarion sitting beside you, reading one of his books. The rain is pounding the tent and you feel the cold.
"Good morning," you whisper, and he runs his gentle fingers through your hair. His crimson eyes are brimming with love, but you detect an underlying unease in him.
You've always respected his privacy, but you can't help but notice his recent unease.
"Is everything all right? Do you want to talk?" You sit up, peering at the small entrance tent, shivering.
"It seems I can't keep any secrets from you," he sighs in relief. "I just… got scared yesterday. When that thing threw you. When you fell. Damn, you looked like a ragdoll! Then the troll tried to pick you up to smash you again. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to save you. That you would die."
You say nothing, resting your head on his shoulder and listening to his steady breathing.
"That's stupid. You're here. Everything is great," he says.
You sense that he doesn't honestly believe it. Mortality. Your mortality is what's troubling him. He's undead, immortal. He can only die if someone kills him or if he steps into the sun. But you will grow old and eventually pass away if you're not killed earlier.
A sudden urge to leave the tent and return at sunset washes over you, but you suppress it. You both need to address this, no matter how uncomfortable it is.
"What do you think you will do when I die?" you ask him gently.
He stares at you in horror and disbelief, as if he can't believe you've broached this topic.
"I - I don't want to have this conversation," he mutters.
"Astarion, please. We have to talk about this. My love, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but we must discuss it."
He clenches his teeth. "You can't even comprehend how much."
"I actually can because you don't seem to care about your safety, and there's a very high chance I could end up a vampire widow."
You sit before him, taking his hands and gently tracing the knuckles.
He remains silent, and the only sound is that of raindrops outside. The comfort of the warm tent makes you decide not to venture into the rain.
"I will step into the sun once you die. It's not up for discussion," he says resolutely. "I'll bid you farewell, go outside, and see the sunshine one last time. Don't worry. I'll be with you till the end."
A knot forms in your stomach as you suddenly envision Astarion cradling your lifeless body, waiting for the sun to rise.
"Don't," you abruptly say. "Don't do this."
"Well, it won't be up to you to decide," he says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Astarion turns his head away, a signal that he wants to be alone with his thoughts.
"Okay, I'll go for a walk," you suggest, wanting some fresh air, but he grabs your hand.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to catch a cold," he insists, pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest and you sit together in silence, lost in your thoughts.
"Astarion," you whisper. "Let me tell you something."
"If it's about death again, I'm not interested."
You hug him tightly. "No, it's about… the opposite, actually."
You carefully choose your words. "My people… My people believe in rebirth. We believe that we don't stay dead forever."
You pause, studying Astarion's face, but his pale features remain unreadable.
"When I was little, I was told that our souls come back. In a century, in a millennium. Memories return, and an old personality reawakens. It only happens to some; some are forgotten and never return. That's why we tell stories about our deceased ancestors – to help them find their way back home. Their souls must feel loved to get back."
You hug him even tighter, fearing his reaction.
"Astarion, my love, please, don't step into the sun when I die. Live. I want you to live, see the lands we won't see together, and experience things we won't experience together."
He sobs, and you look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You gently stroke his white curls.
"I want you to talk about me, to tell people stories about my adventures, about who I was. You love me deeply, and if my people are right about souls and resurrection, your memories will be the most powerful beacon in the darkest sea of death."
You release Astarion, who still avoids looking at you directly, seemingly embarrassed about his tears.
"And when that time comes, I will find you. I will embark on a quest to seek my vampire husband, and we shall meet again. You will tell me everything about the places you've visited and your adventures. People you've met, quests you've completed. Everything."
You cup Astarion's face, making him meet your gaze.
"Promise me that, my love. Promise me you will keep living." You kiss his forehead, and your heart swells when you see his smile.
"I promise," he says. "I promise I will keep going."
He lets his tears go and you are proud of him for not concealing the emotions. Then he cocks his heads and grins.
"I'll take your word for that because if I'm reincarnated and never find you, I'll be truly upset," you playfully remark.
"So will I if I keep my promise and you never return," he chuckles.
You plant kisses on his cheeks and share a lighthearted laugh.
"Are you going outside?" he asks. "It seems like it's not raining anymore."
He returns to the book he was reading.
"Go, I don't want you to stay locked in here," he insists.
"Nah, it's too cold. I'd better stay inside with you. What are you even reading there?" You try to snatch the book from his hands, but he closes it and attempts to put it away. "Since when are you embarrassed about your reading preferences?"
You try to grab the heavy black volume, but Astarion catches you and playfully puts you on your back, causing uncontrollable giggles. Now, you can't get up but still manage to stretch your hand toward the book.
"What is this?" You open it. "Dhampirs share many qualities with vampires. They walk the line between living and dead, gain heightened abilities, and have a life-draining bite. Children of vampires and mortals, they are few in number…"
You stumble. Children of vampires and mortals…
Astarion blushes. "I found this book in the troll lair. I never knew that vampires could have children. Like, real children, not cursed spawns."
You open another page with pictures depicting a young human woman with vampire fangs.
"It's written that dhampirs aren't hurt by the sun" he continues. "And they don't need blood to survive. They can easily blend with mortals, but at the same time, they are strong as the undead," he pauses. "It's like being a vampire without downsides."
Half-vampires. Dhampirs. You vaguely remember hearing about them many years ago. Is it possible for you and Astarion to have a child? And would it be right to bring a dhampir into this world?
"Now you're thinking about it too," Astarion observes.
"Guilty," you admit, still lying beneath him. You touch his back, feeling the scars through his shirt. He smiles, enjoying the sensation.
"Speaking of mortality and my promise," he continues, "I think I'll find it easier not to step into the sunlight if I have someone to care for. It would be cruel," he kisses you. "To leave a child without both parents."
You giggle.
"Am I getting this correct? You want me to give birth to a silver-curled dhampir so you won't be lonely?" you tease, pressing Astarion tighter. He doesn't answer, too occupied with undressing you.
A child. Your mind pictures a little girl who resembles both you and Astarion. A progeny. Someone to carry a piece of you both into the future.
"I don't mind," you finally say. "I actually really want this."
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purple-babygirl · 2 months
Text
don't call me daddy II
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 3,160 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, manipulation, crying, mentions of the s-word, mention of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares. A/N: I'm sorry I breathe pain but I love you:"💜x(also if you have any suggestions for these two just let me know). please enjoy💜 ~ Before Mrs. Morrison arrived, Bucky had made sure to make her a proper breakfast for the first time since she's been at his house. She couldn't need for anything today. Showered: check Fed: check Properly dressed: check
“And then what?” he asked, closing the peanut butter jar. “Then we pour the warm milk,” she instructed with a soft smile, helping Bucky prepare her meal. “I thought you were supposed to make this with cold milk.” “That’s just what the box says, but we’re not gonna listen,” she whispered as if scared to hurt the cereal box’s feelings. Bucky chuckled despite himself and finally, unintentionally allowed her a glimpse of something other than a frown. “You’re pretty,” she told him with a dreamy smile, already blushing at the fact that she made him smile. “Hey!” Bucky glared again as if he's just been insulted. “Sorry,” she huffed, looking at her breakfast being stirred. “You better be.” Bucky didn’t know why he acted so defensive or why he wanted her to be sorry. It was like there was something inside of him repelling anything nice or sweet that could be thrown his way as if it was a contagious virus. “Eat your breakfast so we can fix that hair of yours. Can’t believe you managed to mess it up again,” Bucky told her, walking away from the kitchen. “Bucky not gonna eat?” She tilted her head in question. “Mind your own business,” Bucky threw rudely, still avoiding her attempts at caring for him. She huffed again as she watched him sit before the TV, pretending to be focused on anything but her presence in his apartment. She had to take matters into her own hands. Ever so slowly, she rounded the kitchen counter and slightly opened the same cabinet Bucky had opened to get her a bowl out of. Thankfully, she found one other bowl. Twisting her hand side-ways, she pulled it out of the small opening she made in the cabinet door in slow motion in order not to alarm Bucky. And while he drowned in his own thoughts, she started preparing him a similar corn flakes bowl so he could have breakfast too. On the other side of the room, Bucky’s mind was attacking him with thoughts. What was he going to do during those three months? He’d already had his face flushed and his heart beat going a million per second when he had to give her a shower yesterday. He couldn’t believe the first time he got to see a naked lady after 70 years, it had to be her. A lady who wasn’t really a lady. He felt dirty. Like he shouldn’t have been doing that. She sounded so young but looked old enough and it messed with his head. How many more times was he supposed to do this again during those three months? “Here, Bucky,” she cut off his thoughts, carefully bringing forth a bowl of corn flakes in warm milk with honey. “Why didn’t you eat?” Bucky rolled his eyes, thinking she probably wanted him to feed her now. It was probably her chance while he was doing everything she wanted so that she wouldn’t rat him out to Mrs. Morrison. “It’s for Bucky,” she explained, setting the bowl before him on the floor. “Who said I wanted to eat that goo?” Bucky glared at her for acting like she knew what he needed. “It’s delicious, I promise. Give it a try.” She held a half full spoon up to him. Bucky was still as a statue, looking at her with a frown. He was too angry to even blink. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help.” He seethed through his teeth. “I know. But I wanted to share.” Her shoulders slumped, as she put the spoon back in the bowl. Bucky felt a tiny bit remorseful. No one’s made him food since his mom and internally, he was kind of grateful. But of course, he wouldn’t let it show. “Fine, gimme that,” he snapped, taking the bowl off the floor and shoving a spoon in his mouth. It was actually good, homely and soft enough to chew but not too saggy. Something about the taste of corn and the honeyed milk made Bucky warm inside. As Bucky chewed on his food, she ran back to the kitchen counter, picking up her bowl too and coming back to sit next to Bucky on the floor. “Do you like it?” She asked before slipping her spoon in her mouth. “I don’t hate it.” He shrugged, refusing to give her the pleasure of being right.
If only he knew she never cared about being right. “I’m happy you like it.” She beamed. “I didn’t say that.” “Fine.” She pouted, swirling her spoon around without eating. Bucky felt weird, almost like he felt bad. After all, she’s warned him about the visit and practically saved his butt from Sam and most importantly, his therapist. “Why didn’t you put peanut butter in mine?” Bucky nudged her with a question, refusing to utter a clear apology for his harshness. “Bucky doesn’t like peanut butter on cornflakes,” she whispered, still facing down and moving her spoon around the bowl. “And how did you know that?” Bucky raised his eyebrows because really, how did she know that? Do they give her a file too? “You said “ugh” while adding peanut butter to my cornflakes,” she explained simply. Huh. So she was observant and kind of… smart. “Eat your food,” Bucky said, holding the tip of her spoon to stop her from twirling it. He thought he used a gentler tone but apparently that wasn’t the case because she still looked melancholy. He didn’t have patience for this, for fuck’s sake! Bad word, his mind replied. So she was inside of his head now too?! “Ugh, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, not sure why he did. Because he didn’t care.
He didn’t. “Why do you hate me?” Her small voice asked, sounding sadder than he’d ever heard her sound before. Her question surprised him and he stopped chewing. Bucky frankly had no idea why or if he hated her. He’d told himself he hated her on her first night here, but that was just because she invaded his space and overwhelmed him by doing everything he wasn’t used to. But now that he had to think about it, did he actually hate her? The answer was no and Bucky knew it. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky murmured, setting his bowl down and picking up hers. “You just confuse me very much.” Bucky held her spoon up to her lips. She looked at him and the spoon with so much hope that Bucky felt absolutely shitty for pretending to be nicer to her for the sake of today’s visit.
On the other hand, she couldn’t believe Bucky was offering her the spoon, feeding her. But Bucky didn’t care. He just needed this to go well, and he wasn’t about to let her ruin it because she wanted to have a long face today. “Confuse Bucky? Why? Doll never lies,” she said, her tone sincere and eyes begging Bucky to believe and trust her. Yeah, Bucky felt terrible. He decided that if he kept answering her with the truth that might take some of the guilt he was feeling away. “It’s not about lies,” Bucky replied, nearing the spoon to her lips more so she could eat. She complied and took the spoon into her mouth, wanting to hear more. “It’s that this is all new to me. This kind of stuff never existed in the 40s.” Bucky shrugged, getting another spoon ready. She ate the cereal obediently, chewing quickly so she can ask a question. “But Bucky doesn’t hate me?” She looked at him like her life depended on his answer. “No, Bucky doesn’t hate you,” Bucky chuckled at how cute she looked talking with food in her mouth, but quickly controlled himself. “Bucky just needs time to get used to everything.” She realized out loud, making Bucky swallow apologetically. Has he just been understood for the first time in years by someone other than Steve? It was the truth. Bucky needed time to get used to this and her. The only lies were that his actions weren’t because he really cared and that he didn’t want to get used to this or her. He tried hard to ignore the feeling the mere action of feeding her gave him, too. Taking care of someone like that? It felt good for some odd, unknown reason. Bucky nodded in reply, continuing to feed her, “yeah, I need time.” “I promise I’ll give you time, Bucky. I won’t annoy you no more.” Her eyes were genuine as humanly possible when she cradled his metal hand as it held her bowl and Bucky felt a pang in his chest. How could anyone be so patient and pure, especially these days? He couldn’t believe she still had it in her to consider how he felt in spite of the way he’s treated her. She must know nothing about him or his past. A knock on the door pulled Bucky out of his head and he swallowed nervously, putting the bowl down and standing up to answer the door. She took her bowl and his and quickly moved to sit on the couch, knowing it would look better that way. She was going to do her best to make everything easier on and for Bucky from now on and for the rest of her time with him. ~ After Mrs. Morrison has greeted them both and privately talked to Bucky in the kitchen, she took Doll to the bedless bedroom, wanting to make sure she really was okay. “Listen, doll, don’t feel like you have to do this. If Bucky is unwelcoming, you can come with me right now,” she reassured the girl, never wanting her to go through an unpleasant experience. “I’m okay, Mrs. Morrison, I promise.” She smiled. “Are you sure? Because I know he’s not the nicest I’ve ever met,” Mrs. Morrison joked, making the younger girl laugh. Of course, she had no idea that with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he could hear them. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure. Bucky is not evil, he’s just misunderstood,” she told her, her tone sure. Now that had Bucky intentionally eavesdropping. What did she just say about him? “Is he now?” Mrs. Morrison smiled. “Yes, I swear! Even by himself.” She defended. “And how is that?” the woman was genuinely interested in making sure her girl wasn’t being abused.
“Big me read about him in the library before. He’s not a bad man. He’s a hero, Mrs. Morrison, but he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t think he deserves nice things but he does. He deserves all the nice things!” Bucky was wordless at her speech. Was that how she really thought of him? “But is he good to you, doll?” Mrs. Morrison asked. This was supposed to be the question he worried most about being answered, but Bucky was still frozen, trying to recover from the way her previous words hit him. “Yes, he’s good to me. Even got me a new stuffie!” She told the older woman excitedly without even taking a second to think about her answer, completely omitting the fact that she practically begged him to get her that stuffed animal. “Oh, really? I didn’t see it!” Mrs. Morrison was starting to feel good about this, thinking that maybe she’d misjudged Bucky. “I keep it in my bag when I wake up because I don’t wanna lose it. It’s a white wolf, just like Bucky!” “Just like Bucky?” the woman frowned in confusion. “It’s the name Bucky was given in Wakanda,” she explained. Bucky felt warmth spread throughout his chest for the first time in decades. She knew all that? “You’ve really done your homework huh?” Mrs. Morrison teased, getting up from the floor with Doll. “Big me likes history and research… and cute guys,” she giggled with a shy shrug, making Bucky huff half a chuckle. “Alright then, I will leave you with this cute guy and I’ll come back next month, okay? But until then, I want you to promise to take care of yourself, doll.” “I will, Mrs. Morrison,” she promised politely, giving the woman a tight hug, “thank you for coming.” Bucky closed the door behind the older lady, relieved that the visit went well. He let out a breath he was holding and stood with his back to her, unsure about what he should do. “Bucky,” she called out. “What’s wrong now?” Bucky huffed as he turned around. He felt bad when he saw her soft smile reaching her eyes at the sight of him just looking at her, but he couldn’t let it get to him.
He did what he had to do to save his ass.
She said a lot of nice things about him, but that didn’t mean he was going to yield to this unwelcomed, unwanted situation that Sam’s gotten him in. He didn’t need this. He wasn’t the one to start all this. “Do you wanna draw together?” She played with her fingers nervously. “I don’t know how to do that. You draw, okay?” Bucky said, showing no interest as he started putting his shoes on. “Bucky leaving?” Her voice was chocked with held up tears. “Yes.” He grabbed his keys, trying his best not to look at her dejected face. “But—” “You didn’t seriously think I would magically start wanting to spend time with you, did you?” She involuntarily let out a tiny gasp, hurt at the fact that he just manipulated her for the one reason that is Mrs. Morrison’s visit. “You gonna start crying again?” He made fun of her as he pulled his gloves on, not in the mood for the public stares. “Bucky!” she whispered, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Don’t wait up if you wanna fall asleep.” With that, Bucky slammed the door behind him, locking it and leaving her alone. She just fell on the couch, sobbing as her fists grabbed at her own knees.
How stupid was she? He’s already told her he never wanted her. Why would he suddenly want to spend time with her? Just because he fed her a couple of spoons? Stupid. Maybe she should’ve acted exactly the way he’d expected her to from the beginning. Maybe Bucky was right, there was nothing she could do to help. She wasn’t here to fix anything. Her presence was just a thing Bucky had to put up with, nothing more. ~ As Bucky walked down the street, he wanted to bang his forehead on the nearest wall. Why didn’t he just tell her he was going to get them food like he actually was? Why did he have to be mean and rude? He didn’t want to get her hopes up, he knew that. But that certainly wasn’t the best way to let her know. He could’ve talked to her and she would’ve understood. She was smart and far from a ‘retard’ like he’d so unfairly called her before. But no, he couldn’t get too close. He wouldn’t let her involve him in whatever she was doing. Whatever. Bucky didn’t want to think about her or her feelings. Or about the way her eyebrows knot when she’s about to cry... Or the tremble of her lower lip before the very first tear falls out… Damn it, he fucked up. Bad word, she would say… Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in defeat as he walked towards the nearest grocery store he knew of. ~ I'm sorry. I’m. Sorry. I am sorry Bucky quietly practiced before his closed door as if it was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He needed to make this right. It really wasn’t her fault that they were making him do those things. She was nothing but sweet to him despite everything he’s done to and with her. When he was ready enough to open the door, however, her eyes weren’t on him like he’d expected and wanted them to be. In fact, they weren’t on anything because she was asleep. Bucky sighed as he dumbly waved the pizza box above her sleeping body. She didn’t have lunch because she was spending time with Mrs. Morrison and now she was asleep without dinner either because of him and his stupidity. “Hey,” Bucky called softly, well, softer than he’s ever talked to her. She didn’t answer, pretending to be fast asleep with her face buried in the corner of Bucky’s couch. He couldn’t see anything but her stuffed ducky looking back at him as if in blame. Oh. She was back to hugging her old stuffed animal. Not the white wolf Bucky’s gotten her. Bucky understood now that he’d messed up big time. She clearly didn’t angelically forgive him without an apology this time. He carelessly threw the unopened pizza on the kitchen counter, taking his jacket off and his place on the floor. He had no appetite now. He turned on the TV on silent and turned the lights off before letting out one long sigh.
She felt so bad because Bucky hasn’t eaten anything all day either, but she was too sad with him to do anything about it. Bucky didn’t want her to care for him, so she was going to finally listen to his wishes. When Bucky woke up from his nightmares that night, she had to continue pretending like it didn’t wake her up too. She squeezed her eyes shut and continued to bury her face in the cushion despite herself. No lullabies were sung and no water or tissues were offered. It was just Bucky lying alone on his floor again, sweaty, traumatized and regretful as one could be. She heard him moving around and apparently he was dressing because a minute later he left the apartment. When she peeked through the blinds, Bucky was jogging down the street. It was 4 am and she knew she couldn’t pretend to be asleep forever, but she’ll continue trying for now. ~ When Bucky came back from his 3-hour run, he had finally calmed down and he had a solid apology ready on the tip of his tongue this time. He was going to make this right and he was going to do it now. “Bucky.” He heard her panicked voice call his name and instantly fell into a protective mode he didn't know existed within his system. “I had an accident.” Bucky followed her tearful eyes down and when he looked at her bloodied PJ pants, Bucky was panicked too. He's seen a lot of blood, shed a lot of blood, but the sight of blood on her clothes freaked him out more than anything he has ever seen before. “What happened?!”
part III
~
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bilolli · 1 month
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Just Dance Care AU!
Ok ok so I thought of a story for this Au but it’s nothing really impactful or full of drama and angst like my other au’s, I wanted to leave this au easy and fun to play around, because, let’s say it. Just Dance and drama in the same sentence makes me laugh. 
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story and PNG version under the cut!
(I gave up on Y/n design because I couldn't figure out a general look for them. This is you we are talking about! Draw your own JD fit, I'll draw mine soon XD)
Anyway here’s the story so far: 
Year 2029, videogames industry made a huge step forward and classic consoles and devices were substituted by the new and upgraded VR headsets with full body tracking. It’s something like the NerveGear in Sword Art Online without the kill switch. Some games still require you to actually move your body (like fitness games or sports because yeah, they don’t have a purpose otherwise). 
Y/n wanted to buy the newest VR headset but, while searching for the best offer, they found out FazCo entertainment was hosting a giveaway, the prize? One of their prototypes, a VR meant to be released the next year coinciding with the opening of their first mega pizza plex.
(so the plex doesn’t exist right now). You decide to sign up for the giveaway and after a while you receive an email telling you you won the VR headset and that, to claim it, you need to read and sign a series of NDA policies (understandable, it’s a prototype headset that’s not even in commerce). Some clauses are a little bit concerning but nothing you hadn’t read on other electronics booklets, so you decide to sign. After, like, a day, you have the VR in your hands. 
The box let you know with super saturated and colorful writing, that the VR came with a game pre-installed inside. Uh, that’s why they were giving one away, they wanted a free game tester…but you know what, it’s worth it.
You always liked Just Dance games, they make you think about happy memories of your childhood. This pre-installed game called “Five Dances at Freddy’s” is a close copy of your childhood game with original FazCo songs, characters, environments and also some collaborations with other famous artists. It probably will be the cause of a big copyright infringement report.
There are various ways to play it: story mode, Casual dance, Five Dances, and Just Dance Care.
The first one is similar to the casual dance mode but with little cutscenes between a dance and another to tell a tale, Casual dance is how you can play the collab songs, Five Dances is the multiplayer mode and Just Dance Care is a more uhhhh “hard” way to play the game with all the other modes mixed in it. You stare at the description of the last mode smirking and decide to try it first just to see how far you can get before losing (yes you can lose in hard mode in this Just Dance, but you don’t die, you just have to restart from the beginning). Turns out the FazCo wasn’t kidding when they advertised the new headset as a breakthrough in the world of virtual reality headsets, the thing TRANSPORTED you inside the game itself. 
You almost have a heart attack when you can’t find your VR on your head, but before you can try something you are blocked by two tall individuals who you think are the “tutorial” characters. 
Yadda yadda, tutorial, you can pause the game and exit whenever you need just by opening an hidden menu, you find out your tutorial characters are called Sun and Moon and that you are way worse than you remembered at dancing (damn full body tracking, there is no way you are going to do a cartwheel in the middle of a dance, you still don’t know if your body is inside your home and if you’ll physically feel pain if you fall and you don’t want to find out).
You pass an embarrassingly long time trying to win your first dance battle just to discover it was still the tutorial. 
You try to go on with the story but you fail at the first real battle with a bear character named Freddy. 
And guess what? You have to start again from the tutorial! Y/n is gonna spend A LOT of time with Sun and Moon if this goes on.
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daemonsversion · 2 months
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Hightower Girl | Daemon x Reader
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Female (Hightower) Reader
Summary: Sometimes it seems like Daemon has made it his life's mission to annoy you as much as possible. However, when he learns that your father has practically arranged a marriage for you, a long hidden desire comes raging to the surface.
Content etc: profanity, slight masturbation but not really, smut (fingering, loss of virginity) I never know what to put here tbh. Sorry for any mistakes, I only read back through it once or so.
Word count: 6,935 (my first fic on this page was NOT meant to be this long help)
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The air held a chill as you turned your gaze up to the sky. You were standing at one of the large windows, looking out over the courtyard as the morning light continued to grow. It was beautiful to look at, yet the chill felt similar to the one that ran through your heart.
With a sigh, you turned away and retreated down the corridor. Last night your father, Otto Hightower, had told you of his plans to marry you off to one of the lords on the small council. You would, quite frankly, rather eat your own head but when you tried to protest all he'd done was get upset with you and tell you it was long overdue that you wed.
So you had been in a downward spiral ever since, trying to decide what - if anything - you could do to get out of it. It was a feeling of powerlessness that had you in its grip as you lamented that there might actually be nothing that you could do about it. Unfortunately, in many ways, you were seen as your father's property. To effectively sell off as he saw fit.
You didn't see him at first. Your eyes were fixed firmly ahead as you walked but they were not really working as they should. You had tunnel vision, moving mainly on autopilot. It wasn't until you'd walked right into Prince Daemon and trodden on his foot that you realised he was anywhere in the vicinity.
"Ah-careful!" He hissed, though not out of real anger, just a bit of surprise and pain because you'd really stomped down on his toes without meaning to. His hands had shot up to your shoulders, pushing you away from him, holding you at arms length.
Your gazes met at the same time and he blinked, abruptly letting go of you and stepping back, his eyes looking you up and down. "Oh." Hightower girl.
You frowned at his reaction but you were not in the mood today to get into an argument with the prince of the city, though some days you almost lived for it. "Forgive me, I was not looking where I-"
"No. I daresay you were not." Daemon smoothly interrupted, causing a flash of irritation to go through you. As much as you tried to conceal it, it did not go unnoticed and his lip curled into an amused smirk.
He leaned in slightly, his eyes now full of mischief as he saw the reaction he'd drawn out of you. Very similar to the ones you often drew from him, merely by the circumstance of your birth. He had not the stomach for Hightower cunts, after all, but he had absolutely found some use for you - getting to make you scowl and want to stomp your pretty little foot was the highlight of his day sometimes.
"You know, if you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask." He purred, a hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.
Your own hand immediately came up to slap his away before he could even touch you. Daemon chuckled, straightening up and letting his eyes roam down your form once more, from head to toe. This time it felt like there was something more than just derision there... and a sort of heat started to creep through you. Once his eyes met yours again, he gave you another one of his irritating smirks and then turned on his heel and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.
With a glare, you watched him leave, ignoring the deep ache that started to gnaw at you somewhere within and then you turned away and continued about your business.
Idiot.
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Hours later, your frustrated footsteps took you through the keep, away from your father's office, out into the fresh air. The expression on your face was anything but happy, the argument you had just had with Otto fresh in your mind. You had, of course, gone to him intending to have a very levelheaded conversation about all of this but as usual it had descended into madness.
'It is high time you wed and start a family of your own, I have coddled you too long. Grow up. You will marry him.'
The words were spinning in your mind as you exited and stormed out to the Godswood. Not for any reason other than the fact that you knew it would be empty of people and your main desire was to be alone.
You didn't even want to talk it out with your little sister right now because you knew Alicent would only try and defend him. Ever the little appeaser, she would probably say that Otto was only doing what he thought was best. If he wanted to do what was best for you, why not let you marry someone you wanted, when you wanted?
A large pair of hands suddenly gripping you by the waist from behind and pulling you backwards, flush up against a hard body, startled you from your web of thoughts.
"You know the Gods aren't actually listening, don't you?" Daemon's lips grazed your hair and his breath was hot in your ear.
With a squeal, you scrunched in on yourself, squirming out of his grasp, twisting around to shove him away by the chest. "Daemon!" Your tone was scolding.
He only chuckled, leaning against the nearest tree as he looked back at you. "What?" He asked innocently.
You could only frown. Usually you had no problem giving back what you got but you simply don't have the heart for any of it today.
"Oh, what?" Daemon practically sneered, his lip curling as he stared at you. "Cat got your tongue, Hightower girl?" He knew your name but he never bothered to use it, simply out of a desire to further annoy you. You only ever called him by his name and he never called you by yours.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a look but there was not as much fire in it as usual and he found that this disappointed him a little.
"I saw you leaving your father's office." Daemon continued, watching the way your jaw tightened just slightly. He smirked. "Is it your cunt of a father that has upset you, hm?"
Where he expected to see a scowl at his insult against Otto, perhaps even a little fight, you instead huffed a humourless laugh and threw your hands up in a defeated manner. Upset was an understatement, you felt so far beyond just upset.
Daemon frowned, his expression becoming more serious. Well, teasing you was no fun if you did not react in the way he had become accustomed to. It seemed that he might have hit the nail on the head here without even really meaning it - he thought your mournful look was due to his presence, though now that he thought about it you had stormed out here in something of a temper. He had followed you all the way from inside, after all, so he'd seen the swiftness of your steps.
"What has he done now?" He asked then, studying your face with a look you rarely saw on him.
"Nothing." You mumbled, looking down at the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was pour your heart out to Daemon fucking Targaryen.
"It does not look like nothing." Was all the prince said in response.
Just that, not a hint of mockery in his tone, and you lifted your head to frown at him again. He did not look his usual level of cruel amusement. He looked almost like he... actually just wanted to know. That couldn't be right.
However, something about that made you just blurt the words out. Your father had basically sold you off to one of those stupid, stuffy lords on the small council. You had no choice and you felt like you were suffocating!
After you finished venting, Daemon's expression changed again. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you caught the slight narrowing of his eyes as he stared at you in silence. The smugness seemed to have been wiped completely from his face. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him without it.
"What?" You asked, confused now as well as frustrated. Why was he not making fun of you about this? Why was he not taunting you with your looming fate?
Daemon gave the slightest shake of his head, his gaze dropping away from your face slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then he closed it again as if he'd changed his mind. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and then he turned his face, looking away over the trees.
Your gaze had dropped to his mouth but you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach that the glimpse of his tongue gave you and tried to focus.
"What?" You asked again, a little more firmly this time. Daemon's silence was setting you on edge.
"What do you mean, what?" Daemon practically hissed as he turned his face back towards you.
Your glare returned at his tone. That was more like it. More familiar. "What do you think I mean? What is your problem?"
"You are my problem!" Was his furious reply as he took a step towards you.
"I have never done anything to you!" You exclaimed back. It was always him! Starting an argument or saying something snide in passing. He'd started this whole thing! If you were such a problem, why did he keep seeking you out just to bother you?
"Oh, do not act as though you are blind!" Daemon said, exasperated.
"What are you talking about?" You could not understand how a discussion about your predicament had spun so out of control. Why was he so angry? He was the one who'd asked! You were the one who was being given to some random man! "This is typical Daemon Targaryen. Everything is always about y-"
"You know very well that I have desired you, do not try and deny it!" Daemon snapped.
The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. You stared at him, your expression now one of shock. He stared back, his one of anger and also regret for speaking the words aloud.
"You..." Was all you could get out before you fell silent once more. This did not make sense.
In one of the most surprising moves he had ever pulled on you, Daemon closed the remaining distance in an instant. Taking your face in between his hands, he held you in place for a moment as his dark gaze burned across your features, and then his mouth descended upon yours and you were thrown so far into shock you were not sure you would ever come back from it.
His kiss was hot and passionate and his tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening as you... kissed him back, the desire that had been fighting for attention inside you for years now taking control.
His hands moved from your face and took hold of your waist as his mouth continued to explore yours, guiding you backwards towards the tree and pressing you gently up against it. You would have expected him to be rough and quick but he was not. His touch was gentle and soft and your heart was practically flying in your chest.
His body pressed up against yours as he deepened the kiss and you couldn't stop a soft sound of desire leaving you. It spurred Daemon on as a hand moved up from your waist, sliding up over your dress. He groaned into your mouth at the shape of you and you felt like you were on fire.
Only when Daemon's fingers began to fiddle with the lacing at the front of your bodice did you come back to your senses, turning your face to break the kiss and the hands that had moved to grasp his shirt began to push him away. "Stop... stop..."
The kiss stopped but Daemon did not immediately move away, his nose grazing your hair and his breath now hot against your ear as he fought to get his lust under control.
Eventually, he pulled away, his hands leaving you, stepping back to put distance between you both.
You were in an absolute whirlwind. Had that actually just happened? You had kissed Daemon. Daemon had kissed you. He'd been desiring you? For how long? Why? He hated you, did he not? You had so many questions and a moment later you turned your face back so you could see him.
Daemon stood where he was for another few moments, breathing heavily as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he suddenly turned on his heel and started walking off.
"Daemon!" You called, stepping after him in surprise. What? He was just going to leave? This was not finished!
The prince said not another word, nor did he turn around, simply picked up his pace and disappeared.
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The night was quiet.
The hour of the wolf had come and you had still not managed to fall asleep. It was not just your marriage predicament playing on your mind this night, it was also the moment with Daemon in the Godswood.
His hands on your waist. His tongue in your mouth.
You would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you had never imagined it before. Despite the way he often spoke to you, and the remarks or looks you sometimes even gave him back, you had always had that funny feeling around Daemon. Try as you might (because he was a complete bastard, there was no denying it) you just hadn't been able to shake it. That desire.
Desire. He'd said he had desired you. How long had he felt that way? Why had he never said or done anything? To be fair, you knew why, and it probably had everything to do with your father.
Otto Hightower was the snake in Daemon's boot.
You thought about the way he'd looked at you when you'd told him about Otto's plan to marry you off. The speechlessness you had never witnessed before. The way his anger had risen quite quickly, causing him to just blurt out these apparently hidden feelings he'd been harbouring.
Your thoughts began to wander, wondering what would have happened if you had just let him continue what he'd been doing. If you'd let him pull at the laces of your dress and go further. He'd already had you up against the tree, what would it have been like if you'd just... let him take you?
As you imagined it, an ache began to grow steadily down between your thighs. Sighing, you squirmed. It was too late for this! You needed to sleep... yet it would not go away and your thoughts would not quiet.
With a frustrated noise, you shifted and your hand slid beneath the sheets. You couldn't believe that you were about to do this. Touch yourself to the thought of Daemon fucking Targaryen. That rude, arrogant, self-centred...
Your eyes drifted closed as you pulled the hem of your nightdress up and moved your fingers where you wanted - no, needed - them.
The lightest of touches was all you were afforded before you heard the sound of soft knocking at the door. You flinched, eyes flying open again as you sat up on your elbows and stared at the door with a frown.
The hour was so late. Who could that possibly be?
"Who is it?" You eventually called out, in case it was Alicent or maybe a guard informing people of a problem - though you had not heard any activity in the halls.
Instead of receiving a reply, your heart leapt into your throat as the door was simply pushed open upon hearing you were awake and a figure slipped into the room. It took you a moment to realise it was not any old intruder.
"Daemon!" Your heart rate slowed again, though not by much. The fact he was here at all was very improper.
He did not speak but stayed standing by the now closed door, staring at you through the darkness.
His silent, lingering presence in your dark chamber unnerved you slightly. "What are you doing?" You hissed.
Daemon blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever reverie he'd found himself in. He had been staring at you in the bed, not having been prepared for the sight even though he'd known logically you would be in it. "I thought that we should speak." He said, taking a step away from the door.
You sat up even further in the bed. "At this hour? In my chambers? You should not be here."
"I could not sleep." He said simply. Even through the darkness you could see the way his gaze flickered very quickly over your sheet-covered form.
"What has that got to do with me?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. Had he been thinking about it too? Had it kept him awake as it had kept you?
Daemon's slight smirk returned as he took another step towards the bed and slowly moved to sit down on the edge of it. He wanted to touch you but he refrained. You were right, it was late and inappropriate but he just hadn't been able to rest. He had been pacing a hole in the floor of his own room for the past few hours.
You shifted in the silence that followed, refusing to be the first to break it. Your eyes were glued to him.
"I would say sorry about earlier," his voice came again. "But I would not mean it."
"Why are you here, Daemon?" You asked, ignoring what he'd just said completely.
He smiled a little wryly and his gaze dropped briefly to the low neckline of your nightdress and back up to your face. The moonlight streaming in through your window was the only thing illuminating the room.
"I think you know why I am here." He murmured, lifting a hand as if to reach for you face.
As earlier in the day, you lifted your own hand and lightly smacked his away before he could touch you. "I am not one of your whores!" You snapped, offended.
"Give yourself to me and I will never take another whore again, I swear it." Daemon said simply, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving your face.
"What?" You leaned backwards but the pillows didn't let you move too far from him. You could feel that ache again... the closer he got, the more he spoke.
"I mean it, I am being serious." He stated, lifting his hand again to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek. This time you let him. "You do not wish for your father to marry you off to that stuffy idiot." He whispered, shifting closer. "Well, neither do I." His tone had darkened a little on that, taking on an almost possessive quality that made your heart somersault. "I presume you are a maiden." It tended to be something of a good bargaining chip for arranging unions between houses, after all.
Daemon's touch travelled slowly down your cheek towards your jaw and he eventually curled his long fingers under your chin, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Give yourself to me," he repeated. "And I will deflower you and make it known... the marriage will be over before it is even begun." He knew this particular lord well and he knew he would not want a wife who had been sullied.
You stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment, trying to ignore the tightening in your belly and the racing of your heart at his proximity and his words. "To what end?" You asked in a helpless little whisper. "I would not have to marry this lord, no, but then what? I will surely be...-" Unwanted by most, seen as ruined perhaps, used. And gods the fury of your father when he found out...
As much as you desired him you did not want to be just one of Daemon's conquests, especially when it would leave you ostracised with no options while he continued to swan around doing whatever he wanted with no consequences. Oh, to be a man, you thought bitterly.
However, you did not get to finish your thought as Daemon interrupted, with a frustrated little frown on his face as if he'd expected you to piece that together on your own. "You would marry me."
A silence followed in which the two of you simply stared at each other. You were stunned. Did he mean that or was he being annoying? Despite the frustration on his face, which was also kind of born from his lust, you got the feeling he wasn't making fun of you. Not this time.
"What?"
"I said you would marry me, Hightower girl, are you deaf?"
A small scowl appeared on your face at his response and you pulled your face from his grasp. No, you were not deaf, but it was a bit of a bloody shocking thing for him to say, wasn't it?
"I have a name you know, you arrogant-!" You cut yourself off before you could say something too terrible but the irritation remained on your face. He had never in all the years you'd known him told you off for not using a title with him, yet he had also never called you by your own name from what you could recall. No doubt he had probably long forgotten it!
Daemon smirked at the sudden rise of fire in you. You had been off for most of the day due to wallowing in your misery and fighting with you had not felt quite as satisfactory as it usually did.
"There she is." He muttered, reaching for your face again. This time he took it with both hands like he had in the Godswood and he stared directly into your eyes, amusement shining on his face as he said your name.
Something about it falling from his lips, the way his mouth moved as he spoke it, coupled with the slowly growing desire in his eyes made you cave. Something flickered in your eyes. Daemon saw it and he immediately took it as a yes and leaned in. You did not object, tilting your head slightly once his mouth came down on yours, kissing him deeply.
A moment later his hands left your face and he was tugging at you to get you to lie back down. You shifted, still reeling slightly, and lay down again in the bed. Your heart was racing. You should not be doing this.
Any further thought was momentarily ceased as Daemon slid over top of you, hovering for a few seconds as his eyes seemed to take in as much as they could of you through the dark. "You are beautiful." He mumbled, so quiet that you thought he'd probably said it accidentally. His mouth immediately descending upon your own to prevent any response strengthened this thought.
You kissed him back right away, not in the state of mind to fully think on it anyway. Your desire was rising and the ache that had kept you awake was growing once more.
You made a small sound into his mouth which made Daemon press his body down against yours a little. The contact just made you feel hotter.
His hand slowly moved up to the neckline of your nightgown and this time you did not try to stop him. You let his fingers tug at the little ties, feeling it loosen with each one he pulled free. Your heart was now hammering so hard in your chest that you wondered how you had not passed out.
This is wrong, your mind was screaming.
But if it was wrong... then why did it feel so right?
Your thoughts ceased again when Daemon's fingers touched the bare skin of your right breast, having gotten the laces at the bust undone while you were kissing. You made a sound into his mouth and then he broke the kiss, pulling back so he could look down at you, wanting to see you properly.
The light in the room was dim but his eyes were keen enough and he groaned at the sight of you, gently pulling the rest of the fabric aside.
Again, Daemon continued to surprise you. Earlier, in the Godswood you remembered expecting his kiss or his movements to be rough and demanding yet it had been soft and gentle. In bed, you had imagined (yes, shamefully, you had imagined) Daemon ripping clothes off impatiently and taking what he wanted, yet he was taking his time undressing you and he was looking at you like you were something special, not just a body he wanted to use.
There was a funny, fluttery feeling in your stomach that you ignored as Daemon's eyes met yours again. He just held your gaze for a few seconds and then his lips were on yours once more. While his tongue explored your mouth, his fingers roamed your breasts - pinching, rubbing, tweaking, caressing - until you were squirming and whining.
You felt the beginnings of one of his trademark smirks and he broke the kiss with a chuckle, pulling back and looking down at you with amused eyes. Before you could complain about his teasing, a hand reached down and began to pull the skirt of your nightdress higher up your legs.
Briefly, you tensed. You tried to hide it but Daemon, who had been watching you very closely, immediately stopped his hand.
"Tell me to stop..." He said quietly. "And I will."
You could have. You could have told him to stop. You could have pushed him off. You could have told him to get out of your room. You could have stopped this whole insane plan right there and then.
But you didn't.
Because you wanted him.
You shook your head and Daemon raised an eyebrow, still not moving. He needed more than that.
You wriggled in frustration. "Please." You muttered, a little embarrassed to seem like you were begging for it, but Daemon did not mock you. His gaze seemed to darken with desire and his fingers clawed at the fabric once more, pulling it all the way up your thighs, wanting access to you. He might not seem it but he was growing impatient. He could feel the proof of it straining against his breeches, practically screaming to be let out.
But he would not be selfish and greedy. Not tonight. Not with you.
His fingers reached your most forbidden area and your mind immediately went blank once more, a gasp catching in your throat as he began to touch you there. His eyes did not leave your face once, wanting to see every little expression of pleasure that passed across it.
Daemon let out a groan when his fingers slid up and down your centre, feeling how wet you already were for him. He could scarcely believe his luck, it took everything not to just hold you down and finally make you his.
It was all he had been thinking about for months, probably even longer. Every whore he'd fucked to try and banish the thought of you from his mind had only succeeded in lodging you deeper into his heart.
He circled your clit a few times, drinking in the way you writhed at the sensation and then he slipped a finger inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and he felt you tense slightly once more, an involuntary reaction. He'd felt such a reaction many times before. This was not his first deflowering.
"Shh.." He soothed, leaning in to press soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. "Shh... relax."
Daemon began to move his finger slowly, to allow you to become accustomed to the feeling. He felt you relaxing in response to his kisses and his gentle movements and soon it felt nice and you were making those sweet little sounds once more. He swiped his thumb over your clit again and then inserted a second finger, moving them both in and out with a gentle rhythm.
His lips came back to yours and he stayed like this for a little while, tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers worked you, slowly increasing speed. Your body felt hot, you were shaking and moaning... and Daemon was growing more and more turned on.
When he finally drove you to climax, he could take no more and he grunted, pulling his mouth from yours and leaning back to watch you come undone on his fingers. You were almost dizzy from the stars he'd just made you see but your eyes reopened as you felt him move away, whimpering slightly as his fingers left your heat.
You heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and your heart started to race.
His fingers were starting to becoming impatient as he freed himself of his bothersome clothing and then moved himself back on top of you. When he kissed you this time, you felt something pressing up against you that was certainly not his hand. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth.
Daemon's lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw to your neck. He let them linger there, kissing and licking your skin as his hand moved back down your body, caressing your breasts and familiarising himself with the shape of you. He gently nudged your legs apart with his knee, trying not to rush too much because the last thing he wanted to do was go too fast and ruin the experience for you, but he wanted you to badly by this point it was almost painful.
Your body was on fire and your mind was focused on nothing but him, him, him. If there had been any lingering doubts anywhere inside of you, there wasn't any longer. You wanted this. You craved it. You had craved it for a long time, though you had not fully let yourself think it.
Daemon's hand took hold of his length and he gave himself a lazy stroke as his teeth gently grazed against your neck. The scent of you and the way you were responding to him was driving him absolutely mad. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of you. For you to finally be his.
He guided himself to your cunt and began to slide himself through your wetness, not quite pressing in yet, teasing you over and over as he got you used to the feeling of him.
You whimpered desperately.
Daemon groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Gods, I want you." He muttered. He was frustrated, almost guilty, that he had not the patience to spend more time on your body. He wanted to taste you, but he told himself next time.
"Please..." You whispered, once more practically begging him. The feeling of his cock gliding through your slick was too much, you needed more, you needed to feel him. "Please." You said again, in a whine that caused Daemon to groan again in response.
He pulled his head back and looked down at you. "Say you want me."
"I want you." The words fell from your lips easily. They were true. They had always been true.
"I want you too." He whispered, leaning back in to kiss you one more time before he pulled away again and then shifted slightly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time as he began to press himself into you, your arousal making it so easy for him to slide himself into your heat.
Gods, the slick between your thighs made you feel like such a wanton little thing. He almost growled.
Another few seconds and he was buried inside you. He gave a deep moan as he pressed his face back into your neck, dizzy on the feeling. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't feel the tension rise in you once more though and he leaned back up, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your face and jaw again.
"Shh..." He soothed once more as he heard your breath catch in your throat when he shifted his body. He had gotten you ready for him and been as gentle as he could but he knew you were hiding the fact it still hurt a little.
"Look at me." He murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and then looking down at your face. "Good girl." He purred when your eyes met his, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The praise awoke something inside you and you made a soft sound. He smirked slightly, having felt the fluttering of your walls around him. "Mhm. You liked that." Daemon teased.
If your face was not scarlet before, it was when he said that. Still, all panic had left your body as you were now just focused on the pleasure of the moment. When Daemon tested the waters by shifting his hips a little bit, a soft moan left you and he could tell it was feeling better for you. So he moved again. Then again. And again.
Soon, he had built up a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. The room filled with lewd sounds and you could do nothing but revel in it. The burn had faded and now each thrust of his hips gave you a jolt of pleasure. Daemon was good at this. You supposed it was to be expected with all the experience it sounded like he had.
He wanted to last. He really did. But he had wanted you for so long and he felt like he was about to burst with each little sound that left you, each little wriggle you made underneath him, each time your nails gently bit into his arms as you clung to him.
His movements began to get quicker and you whined as he rubbed repeatedly against a certain spot inside of you. He grunted hard as he realised the reaction you were having. Daemon, however, was slightly unhappy with something. You were not reaching release quick enough and he was worried, with the way things were going, that he would before you did. He would be damned if he left you unsatisfied.
He moved his hand back down between your bodies and found your clit again, circling the little bud with skillful fingers. It was not long after that you were trembling and then shattering as he pushed you over the edge once more.
The sounds that your release pulled from you were so hot that he pretty much fell apart there and then. He groaned helplessly and buried his face back into your neck, breathing heavily as he moved his hips a few more times, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he felt himself nearing completion. With a harsh moan, Daemon then spilled himself inside of you and collapsed on top of you.
For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing as the two of you lay there like that, tangled together, all hot and sticky. You felt utterly boneless. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was ragged, your heart racing, your body limp beneath his weight.
It was perfect.
He was perfect.
"I will speak... to my brother to... tomorrow." Daemon muttered against your neck, slowly coming back to himself. Even if Otto held any reservations after what happened, Viserys would no doubt smooth them over somehow and convince him that you marrying Daemon was the best (and only) option to come out of this.
You could only hum in response, delighting in the kisses he began once more pressing against your skin. You felt warm and content and when he eventually moved and rolled off you, you couldn't hold in a sound of disappointment. Immediately you felt embarrassed but Daemon's arms coming around you and pulling you to him distracted you from it.
Opening your eyes, you blinked at him. "You can't stay."
"We are to be married." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. "I have taken you. Everyone will find out anyway." He reminded you. That was the plan after all.
"Yes, but..." Your cheeks felt hot but hopefully he would think you were just still coming down from the high because you partly were. The idea of being caught with a man (Daemon Targaryen of all people) in your bed was too scandalous. A step outside your comfort zone. "...you..."
"I will go, do not worry." Daemon purred in your ear, flicking his tongue out lightly over the outer edge, smirking as he felt you shiver. "I only want to hold you until you fall asleep. Does that not sound nice? Hm?" He did not say that he simply could not stomach the thought of just rolling out of bed and leaving you lying here all by yourself after your very first time. He did not want to leave you alone in the dark.
You sighed, acting bothered, but it did sound very nice and you were already so comfortable. He was very warm... so you were quick to relent. "Fine. But as soon as I am asleep..." Your voice held as much warning as you could muster.
Daemon chuckled softly, nodding as he adjusted slightly, getting more comfortable in the bed and pulling you up tighter against his body. "Yes, my lady." He said it as if you had given a command and he liked the way his teasing tone made you giggle.
It did not take you long to fall asleep. Indeed, you were so exhausted, you were out in a few minutes.
Unfortunately, Daemon was also so exhausted that he fell asleep mere moments after you did.
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When Alicent entered your chambers the next morning, she got quite a shock... and quite an eyeful, as Daemon had kicked himself out of the covers at some point during the night, giving the poor girl an unfortunate glimpse of his backside that did not leave her memory for the rest of her days.
Her shriek was what caused your father to come running into the room. You were not sure you had ever seen Otto quite so angry in your whole life. After the initial shock wore off, you thought he might actually be so angry he would lay hands upon the prince but he managed to somehow hold himself back.
The look of disappointment was clear as your father turned his gaze on you but Daemon, now standing, shifted in front of you the second he saw it and blocked Otto's view.
If anyone would take Otto Hightower's anger, it would be him.
"What's say you and I go and have a talk with my brother, hm?" Daemon muttered, his eyes narrowed.
Otto stared at him with barely concealed rage. The last thing he wanted was his child linked to a man like Daemon Targaryen. He had been a thorn in his side for years. And now he had... defiled one of his daughters! He tried to look at you again but Daemon cleared his throat.
Otto glared at the prince. "You may wish to put on some clothes first." Was all he said before turning and sweeping from the room, dragging Alicent out by her elbow, letting the door slam behind them.
You would have burst into tears if you were not so shocked. You watched Daemon turn to pull his clothes back on. When he looked up at you, he was smirking.
"It's not funny!" You exclaimed.
"Oh, come on." He teased, sitting down on the bed and leaning closer. "It is a little bit funny."
You turned your head so he couldn't kiss you, frowning. You had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in your whole life. Though it would have come out anyway when Daemon told his brother and you confirmed but to have been walked in on by your father and sister was another thing entirely!
Daemon sighed, lifting a hand to your chin and gently turning your face back towards him. "I'm sorry."
"You said you would leave!"
Daemon blinked, feeling a little bit guilty because he could see this actually had been difficult for you. "I did not do it on purpose, I fell asleep!"
You scoffed. "Right."
"Hey. I mean it." He said and he looked and sounded so serious that you did believe him.
There was a brief silence and then Daemon smirked again.
"What?" You asked, half snapping at him.
Your tone did nothing to rid him of his smile, the smirk turning into a bit of a grin. "When I return," he said as he leaned in again. "You and I will be betrothed."
You could not stop your face from breaking into a smile of your own. "You seem very confident in that fact." After what he'd just walked in on, you were pretty sure your father would be vehemently against this, perhaps simply out of spite and anger.
"Don't you know by now, Hightower girl?" Daemon's eyes glinted with mischief as he closed the distance and kissed your lips once more. When you parted, he was smirking again. "I always get what I want."
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rezitio · 3 months
Text
۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪┊SEXUAL DESIRES getou s  .⃗  ༉‧₊˚✧  Many of the worlds practices is already cultish
˚♡"I said hold it."
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http:˚♡"control yourself."
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a/n: i love cultleader getou
warning: virgn r., corruption, manipulation, age gap, cunnlings, orgasm denial, dubcon, anal, orgasm, links at the end, cigarettes after sex,degradation, hymen breaking.
characters: cultleader!getou
syn: your cult leader decides to help you release sexual desires.
wc: 2.05k+
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You marched to master getous office although he said to not be disturbed.
You were pretty young when you first met master getou. At the time you were too young to understand what was going on. You remembered your mother being on the verge of death but, master getou touched her once she suddenly felt better.
It put a mental image in your head. You were only seven but you knew briefly about religion and god, and at that moment you believed if there was really a god, he was standing right in front of you. With his black hair that at the time reached his mid-waist. And the gojo-kesa that made him look like a wise elder.
Your parents must have thought the same thing too because a few days later, you left to a place in the middle of nowhere where you saw your god again. This time with people who thought like you, who had similar experiences with master getou. Who worshipped and adored him.
Over the years, master getou got many more people to join his cult, New World, and you and your parents were as faithful as ever. You were a quiet girl in the cult. Recently turning 18, you noticed a few changes.
Like the new chores, you had involved being in master getous presence in rather vulnerable places. It did not help that whenever master getou was around you there would be something going on, down there, like throbbing or liquid. You always ignored this after all it was similar to something they said in studies.
They called it 'unholy urges' and to ignore it and pray whenever they came up, that they would disappear. It was easy to ignore it the first few times, but as you grew it became worse. Now you couldn't even look at master getou else it would start to hurt. Bad.
Sometimes during your master's teachings, you would rub your thighs together to stop the tingles, and even though you were told not to you touched your cunt but it only hurt more so you quickly stopped feeling the slit.
Little did you know, Getou knew. Ever since your breasts began to bounce every time you walked or when your ass would show a curve on your robe. Getou felt delight in teasing you, by making you assist him in the bath, or calling on you during teachings to come close to him and read the scriptures. He loved seeing your red face and your thighs rub each other.
Getou would send curses to molest you and make you have wet dreams or make you horny just to see you suffer because you didn't know how to touch yourself. He would watch you curl your toes and almost cry because of the pain as the curse would twist your tits or pull your clit.
One time after a teaching your cunt hurt so bad you felt like you were going to die. You blamed it on the evil spirits master getou always talked about. You prayed multiple times but the whole day it was aching and throbbing. You had to act fast. Master getou was getting ready to leave the cult house again. He would often go to the outside world to 'rid the world of evil' sometimes it took him months to come back, and you couldn't withstand this for another second.
"But what if, someone hears-" He gave a glare that made you shut up.
There would be serious consequences if you were caught but you just needed to see him. You knew if you saw him he would make the pain go away.
Gentle knocks on the door. You almost jumped when you heard his voice. "I thought I said not to be disturbed." He spoke from the other end of the door causing a liquid to run down your thigh. "Master getou, please...I-I can't any longer"
Getou had a smirk on his face on the other side of the door, he'd waited for you to finally submit yourself to him, you took too long coming he thought you must have fought the desires off. But how could he forget you were still a weak naive slut who wants her master to touch her?
"Come in." He saw you walk through the door with the robe he made you wear whenever you were doing something for him. The short shirt that showed off much of your cleavage and waist with the long but side slit skirt that he could see everything from a certain angle.
You knelt and bowed at the door, your head and down as your skirt slowly slid revealing your thin black thong he gifted you.
"Master getou-... please, it hurts" Your tears pooled in your eyes as your voice cracked. "I'm begging you."
It took everything for Getou to not touch himself hearing you plead and beg. "Stand up and come." His voice was commanding.
You did as he said, head looking at the floor with both hands in front of you till you could see his feet. He was on the edge of a bed that was placed because sometimes he would sleep in his office. "Look at me."
You raised your head and looked him in the eye. You saw your shirtless master in pants only, even his hair was down. Your eyes betrayed you to stare at his chest and then the huge bulge coming out of his pants which made your eyes widen with curiosity on what was restrained down there.
"What did I say?" He used his hand to direct your eyes back to his. "Tell me again, what is your business here?"
"Master, I can't any longer. T-the curses they-... I need help." Getou was looking at you right now and there was no curse or anything on you. What you were feeling right now was purely you. Your desires, your needs. He resisted a smile and only sighed.
"Get on the bed and show it to me." Your eyes widened at the request but you did as he said. You couldn't believe you were on the bed your master slept on, if the cult found out about this you would be disgraced but if they knew he was the one who commanded it they would see you as his favourite and always make sure you were well made for presenting. They can't risk a filthy thing on the matsers bed.
You opened your legs and laid back moving your skirt out of the way without having to remove it. He saw how red and wet you were the was cum soaked in the panty and around your lips, he wondered how he would even touch you without overstimulating you.
He grabbed the string of your thong and pulled it up. You let out a loud sound at the ache before promptly covering your mouth. "Remove your hand and don't suppress your voice. I want to hear you."
Your eyes started to haze and you felt like shutting them. Getou noticed and gave you the go-ahead to rest on his bed. When you closed your eyes you immediately fell to sleep.
"Are you questioning me when I'm helping you?" You quickly apologise and shake your head.
He chuckled at your reaction and tore off your panties. Your cunt was clenching around the air exposed you could feel it twitch.
He stared at it for a while analysing the beauty. He opened your legs wider and slapped your cunt making you moan loudly.
He grazed his fingers along your bare pussy making you moan. By instinct, you started to rock your cunt to his fingers as he just held it in place.
He couldn't believe how much of a needy whore you are to be trying to get off by humping his fingers and how when he pulled away you groaned loudly. He wanted to see what would happen if he went further.
"What were you doing to acquire such a curse?" He asked you as if the feelings you were feeling weren't natural. And a result of you being so touch-starved.
He pulled you by the waist and aligned his face with yours, he first licked it to tease you, already tasting your juices and god you were so sweet. His tongue was skilled. Your cunt was already lubricated making it easier for him to push his tongue in and out of you. It did not take long for you to start squirming and moving around.
Your moans were music to his ears even though they kept getting muffled but your thighs enclosing his head. You ran your hand through his hair and he allowed it. It took everything you had to not shove his head away because he was just helping you out of the kindness of his heart.
He could have let you suffer but he agreed to help you and exorcise the curse that was in you. You guessed this was way worse than the evil spirit that made your mom sick because of the way he aggressively pushed his tongue in and out of you. You felt the vibrations of his grunts and he said words like. "Fucking sweet." and "Needy whore."
But you didn't know if it was to you or the curse or hell a technique. But you were thankful for his help even though it felt like you were doing something wrong.
Eventually, you felt like you needed to piss, and you didn't want to piss on his face but it was like he read your mind. "Hold it." He said before continuing to abuse your cunt. This time he added a finger in your hole which made you moan louder.
"master nghh... I can't... It's gonna- mwaghhh~" Getou knows your virgin ass couldn't hold in an orgasm he wanted you to cum on his face, in fact, he got harder just thinking about it.
He just needed an excuse to put his dick in you, to take away your virginity. "MASTER!"
"I said hold it!" He inserted another finger and trusted it roughly while he thrusts his tongue in you. The stimulation was too much and you squirted all over his face. But it wasn't pee. It was a white-ish sticky substance.
"I-I'm sorry I-" He licks the cum of his lips and the outside of your cunt. "Turn over."
When you hesitated he took matters into his own hands turning you on your knees face down. You heard a zipper followed by the ruffling of pants.
"Master getou- what-" He stuck two fingers in your mouth tired of the questions. "Suck."
You did as he said and began to suck his fingers. You felt his hand stretch open your pussy. You heard a chuckle from him and him say something along the line of "It's gonna fucking hurt."
Getou aligned his tip to your pussy he inserted his tip and you moaned at the feeling confused at what he was using. He did it again but his time he trusted something huge inside.
You screamed as it hurt not the good hurt just hurt. You felt something trickling down your thigh. Getou smirked at the crimson that leaked from your hole. "Tell me when to continue." He said.
You didn't know what he meant by that but you started to feel a change instead of pain and violation you felt pleasure, intense pleasure.
"Aah~, master please continue." Getou didn't waste time and began roughly thrusting in and out of you. You felt your pussy clenching on him with each thrust. You felt guilty because you must have made things worse by squirting when he told you not to because now he was being more vocal. He said stuff like. "Fuck, tight bitch.", and "Stop fucking clenching" while also grunting a lot. It's not like you were any better. You were a loud mess.
He kept repeating the exorcism till you needed to pee again, this time he allowed you too before put a similar substance in your hole too. You felt him pull out and grab a cigarette his hand still on your ass.
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link, link, link, after
Thank you guys so much for the support! Not less than a week ago I had like 7 followers now I have a 100 and smth! I really didn't expect people to like the sukuna links so much it was just a shit post, but thank you!
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little-miss-vader · 1 year
Text
Dueling Fates.
Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader
Summary: Anakin really, really wants to win for once.
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Warnings: 18+ definitely smut. Minors DNI or I’ll find you and bite you. Hatefucking (?), reader gets dominated, vulnerability, name calling, restraint, hair pulling, neck kisses, biting, honestly the works.
A/N: This is my first smut in years and i got a bit carried away with the lead up cuz im a sl*t for tension and foreplay and i had to cut it short but i’m pretty proud of this for my first time back. I’m sorry if i made any mistakes, i proofread but mistakes happen! Thanks for reading <3 Enjoy filthy Anakin.
Word count: 3.1K (I know it’s long I got excited.)
Anakin wasn’t a sore loser, not by his definition at least. He just knew he could do better. That’s why when he lost against you again in a sparring session something began to boil his blood. He stood up and stared at you for a moment, you knew what that look meant.
“Again.” He spoke sternly, not at all to your surprise. His lightsaber was still ignited and held in front of him with shaking, frustrated hands. His eyes were glazed over as if possessed by the idea of winning. This had been your third session together and prior to you two partnering up you had been training for 4 hours.
“I’ve been at this for hours I would much rather go eat than tend to your bruised ego, Skywalker.” You put your lightsaber in its rightful spot on your hip and looked up at him with your arms crossed.
It was true that Anakin rarely lost but almost every time he did, it was to you. If you had a scoreboard to keep track, it wouldn’t look good for him. You were older by two years and therefore had more experience. Not by much, but enough to make a difference. He was strong, big, and extremely quick with his reflexes but you were small, agile, and had levels of pattern recognition too high for him to catch you off guard. All his best traits came to your advantage and he hated it.
“Cut the bullshit. I know you’ve got one more in you.” He spoke, his eyes looked your tired frame up and down. You didn’t, in fact, have one more in you but you still agreed. Your legs were hurting in places you didn’t think they could and your arms were burning so badly they might as well have been dipped in lava.
“Fine.” You muttered as you neared him, taking your spot across from him at the training ring. You readied your lightsaber and the sound of it igniting filled your ears. His expressions were small, almost unnoticeable, but you could see how riled up he was in the small movements of his lip twitching and his eyes flickering from you to your lightsaber. You knew your mind wasn’t in it, your Master would have sent you to bed at the sight of you and you knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t encourage Anakin in the state he was in, as well.
A hint of something flashed across his face when you agreed and that settled the feeling you had, this would not be an easy one. The rivalry you two had was nothing more than friendly competition in the eyes of most but truth be told you were both too similar and stubborn, and it really did feel like you were truly enemies sometimes.
“Any day now, Y/L/N.” He spoke in that cocky tone that made you want to slash his head clean off his neck. You tightened your grip and swung first, the sound of your lightsabers clashing echoed through the large, now empty room. This was the best way to do it, offensive to start, swinging so he had the confidence that he could block your blows. Then when you began to feel even the slightest bit of exhaustion you’d play the defense, which was your specialty, until he spent himself. The rest? Too easy.
Your legs, while in pain, moved quickly. You dodged and rolled away from him multiple times. You enjoyed the feeling of him having to come to you, in the same way a dog owner experiences contentment when their dog obeys their commands.
You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t even know how it happened in the moment. He swung directly down your middle and you blocked him, pushing him back with a grunt. The noise he made in response was almost animalistic. It shocked you for just a fraction of a second but he swung and your block was delayed. He didn’t expect it and neither did you so when the swing connected to your leg you both froze. His reaction time, bless the Maker for it, was quick enough for him to stop before he melted your leg clean off but not quick enough to prevent it from grazing you.
You staggered back, retracting your lightsaber. Not a word left either of your mouths for a few seconds, though it felt more like a lifetime. The adrenaline was helping you feel less of the pain but it wasn’t fixing much.
“I didn’t think you’d connect.” You said through gritted teeth as your face contorted in pain. You dropped down on your ass to inspect the wound. “I didn’t think you’d fail to block.” He muttered as he rushed over to lean down next to you.
“I’ll get to a medic. Just leave me alone.” You nearly seethed at him. “I knew you weren’t the nicest sparring partner but I didn’t know you played dirty when you’re mad.” You pushed yourself off the ground, your injured leg bent at the knee as you hopped toward the exit of the training room.
Anakin narrowed his eyes as he walked next to you, not bothering to help due to your comment. “I don’t play dirty. Watch that loud mouth. It’ll be the reason you eat through a straw one day.” His hands were folded behind his back as he watched you struggle to get up the steps to get back into the temple.
“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and held on to the railing for dear life as you hopped up each step. You felt an arm slide across your back and under your armpit.
“I’ll show you dirty if you keep this up.” He muttered, it was barely audible but you heard it and decided the pain in your leg was far more important than his incessant rambling.
“Don’t touch me.” You seethed but you made no attempt to move away from him. He looked down at you and you got the reply of sweet silence. For once, he chose not to respond.
“The medical bay is in the opposite direction-“ You started. “No. It’s just a surface scratch. I can clean it out for you and avoid us both getting in trouble for training after hours when we should have been eating.” He said sternly and a laugh escaped your mouth followed by a short wince.
“You mean avoid yourself getting in trouble. I wouldn’t get in shit over this. You challenged me and hurt me.” You responded. He shook his head and continued walking over to the dormitories. You recognized the hallway he was walking down to be the boys sector. You decided to bite your tongue for the time being. The wound, while not dangerous, was painful and you wanted to save your energy for something more worth while.
He opened the door to his room and placed you down on the small chair by his desk before turning to close the door. He walked away from you to find medical supplies while you inspected the wound and poked the skin around it, wincing in pain.
“Do you enjoy hurting yourself or something?” He muttered as he returned to see you poking away at your sensitive skin. You dropped your hand and looked up at him, your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you. You’d rather die than admit it but he did look good on his knees. Again, you stuck with the cold shoulder response, it was easier when you didn’t argue with him. You averted your gaze fairly quickly when he looked up at you for a moment. You didn’t even feel his hands on your hips until he spoke.
“Up.” His hands rested on the waistband of your pants and you cocked an eyebrow. “No funny business.” You muttered as you raised your hips to allow him to get the pants off and have better access to your thigh.
“Only in your dreams.” He spoke with a level of confidence that made you want to scream and rip his hair out of his head, but still, you stayed fairly silent.
He cleaned and dressed your wound, his touch was softer than you’d expected apart from the moments you would flinch and he’d use a bit of strength to hold your leg in place. “You’re gonna need new pants.” He said, his face was close enough to your skin that you felt the air leave his mouth as he spoke and it immediately created goosebumps on your legs. It was clear he noticed it because he did it again. “What? Is it cold in here?” His low voice sent vibrations to your leg and they flared up in little bumps again. His eyes trailed up your leg and the rest of your body until they finally rested on your own eyes. There was a look in his eyes that you had never been able to pin point and he had it often when he’d speak to you.
“Give me my stuff. I think we’re done now.” You said with a look of annoyance blanketing your expression. He followed promptly with a ‘tsk’ and his low voice, almost a growl, spoke again. “I don’t think we are.” His grip on your thigh squeezed gently and you tried snapping your legs shut only to be met by the barrier of his stupid head.
“What’s your deal, Skywalker?” You ask, your eyes boring holes into his own. You never made a single effort to move away, something about him was entrancing. His thumbs traced circles on your inner thigh by your hips and your legs twitched. You could feel your heart in your throat as he stared you down with the same intensity at you. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips when he felt you get nervous.
“What’s yours?” He mused as his hands travelled up to your waist and he pulled you down from the chair to sit on his lap where he was kneeling on the floor. A soft gasp escaped your lips and you felt a hand push on the back of your neck. Your foreheads were touching now and it felt like all the oxygen in the room had some how disappeared. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest as you straddled him.
Your mind was moving too quickly for you to say anything and before you knew it you felt his lips press against yours. His hand moved from its place on your neck to bunch up your hair and he held it in a tight grip causing a gasp to leave your mouth again.
‘I’ll show you dirty.’ His words from earlier rang in your head and you felt yourself shiver. He pulled away from you and laid you down on the cold, hard floor.
“Anakin-“ You started and he climbed over top of you, caging you in with his arms. “Years. I’ve spent years resenting you for the way you make me feel. Years watching you strut about and walk around with the confidence of thinking you’re better than I am. I hate how you speak to me and I hate the way you act.” He spoke, his eyes never left yours and your eyebrows furrowed.
“If you hate me so much why are you on top of me?” You found enough air to finally say something, your words came out shaky and breathless. “There’s one thing I can do to make myself feel better than you.” Anakin’s head dipped toward your neck as he spoke, he licked a stripe up from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear before biting on your earlobe.
Your body quivered again and he smiled against your ear when a yelp left your mouth at the feeling of teeth biting down. “I can make you look pathetic and desperate. Just like you look right now.” He whispered again, your cheeks reddened and a small whimper left your mouth as he bit down on your neck, leaving small kisses between each bite. You couldn’t speak, you could barely breathe but you liked it. Your hands reached around to tangle into his hair and you pulled him up to make eye contact with you before pushing your lips against his in a desperate manner, open mouths collided as his tongue slipped into yours. After all the years spent being at each others throat when this is what you’d always wanted, you didn’t hesitate to push it to where you needed it to go.
Your hands fumbled with his utility belt and he smiled before lifting a single arm from beside your head to undo it in a moments notice. He sat back on his heels and pulled your belt off, your robe and tunic promptly followed. Your bare skin shivered as you laid back on the tile floor in his room and he smiled down at you. “Too pretty for your own good.” He mumbled as he pulled your underwear from your body leaving you completely vulnerable while he was still clothed. Your hands went for his robe and he pinned them down above your head, his hair flopped over his forehead in a way that made him look absolutely delectable.
He shook his head and another ‘tsk’ followed before he ducked down and placed his mouth right on your nipple that had hardened from the cold floor and excitement. A moan escaped your mouth and you bit down on your lip to stifle it. His eyes flickered open and he looked directly into your own, eye contact was definitely something he enjoyed. His free hand grasped at your chin and his thumb pulled your lip from between your teeth. “Try and hide how good you feel again and you’ll regret it.” His voice was stern and it made your head spin. You nodded.
“Use your words.” He said again and your back arched a little as his mouth returned to your nipple. “Y-yes, Anakin.” Your breathless words came out almost unintelligible. “Louder.” He said and grazed his teeth over your hardened bud. “Yes, Anakin.” You said louder as the shock of the feeling engulfed you. He smiled against you and returned to his position of hovering above you.
His hand trailed down your body agonizingly slowly, stopping right where your pussy was. His fingers traced the outside and you squirmed beneath him. “Please..” You whispered and his eyes darted back to yours. “Please what?” He spoke with his fingers still tormenting you, dancing around where you needed them the most. “Please, Anakin.” You whimpered and he smiled. “So fucking pretty when you say my name.” His mused, his voice almost came out as a low hum as his fingers finally slid up and down between your folds, picking up the juices that had collected. He pushed his lubricated fingers against your swollen clit and started to rub small, slow, circles against it. Your entire body jerked and he let go of your hands to press your hips down, your tailbone pushed against the tile and you winced causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You felt his fingers stop and instead felt a hand push your cheeks together causing your eyes to snap open, the smell of your pussy wafted toward your nose and a moan escaped your lips.
“Look at me. Don’t close your fucking eyes.” Anakin said, pushing your face to the side and letting go. His hand reached back down between your legs and he slipped two fingers into you. A yelp escaped you as he began to slide in and out, curling his fingers upward. Your eyes didn’t dare leave his as he continued to graze against the top wall. Your legs squeezed and his body kept them from closing. “Open those legs.” He seethed and removed his other hand from holding you down to push your leg back down before returning to its spot on your hips. You pulled your legs apart and he continued to stare into your eyes. He ducked down and his tongue pushed against your clit as he fingered you.
“Y-yes.. Please..” You moaned as he began to flick his tongue against the nerve endings. He still hadn’t broken eye contact and you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, your legs began to shake as well. His mouth moved away from you but his hand continued to defile your hole. “You cum when I say so, you desperate, needy girl.” He spat and slowly returned to licking away at your clit. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched loudly in your throat. Your cheeks and ears burned at the words that fell through his lips.
“Yes, Anakin.” You said through your moans. You began clenching your pussy to hold back but that made the feelings even more amplified. Your breathing began to get heavier and heavier as you tried to take your mind somewhere else to keep yourself from going against his words but it was nearly impossible when you were forced to stare directly at him. He went on for what felt like an eternity before whispering against you. “Now.” He said and the vibrations of his voice made your entire body convulse as you let yourself go. You whimpered and squirmed while he held you in place. The knot in your stomach unraveled and warmth spread through your whole body, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you whimpered his name like it was the only word you knew. He pulled his fingers out and used your robe to wipe them off, his mouth followed shortly. He threw your clothes back at you and stood up.
“You can go now.” He said with a hint of a triumphant smile gracing his features. You sat up and immediately began to put the clothes back on, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable for your liking. When you stood up he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward him as he stared down at you with a firm grip on your bicep.
“Watch that wound and come back tomorrow.” He said with a voice that would have made any innocent bystander believe that nothing had happened in the last ten minutes. He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your head and his free hand moved your hair from your face.
You simply nodded and mumbled a quick, “Yes, Anakin.” before ducking out of his room and speed walking back to your own quarters, praying nobody saw you and suspected anything. You knew exactly how proud and cocky he looked as you left, you didn’t even need to look back at him. You felt like the dog obeying commands now and you really liked it, too.
PART TWO HERE YA NASTIES
@likeavillian24
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loveindefinitely · 5 months
Note
O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.
I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.
I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.
Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.
Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day
-🐭
you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.
warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)
because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.
cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.
ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.
but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.
that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.
and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.
so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.
when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.
rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.
gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.
and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.
he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.
price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.
then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.
and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.
he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.
say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.
and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.
you'd been in for a long week.
this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah
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chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months
Note
Hello! I really enjoyed your fic with the Tav who couldn’t see well. It was really sweet! If you’re still accepting requests, may I request a similar one where the reader needs glasses to see and during a battle they break or get lost. Now they can’t see well and they’re trying not to panic while there’s threats everywhere, but thankfully Astarion notices something’s wrong and helps them. Thank you!
Admiring from Afar (GN! AFAB Reader x Astarion) Part 1- MDNI 18+ ONLY
Part Title is inspired by the song “She” by Dodie (I feel like it reflects Astarion’s POV/feelings towards Tav in this story)
This was not originally supposed to be as long as it is, but the concept started taking on a life of it's own. I hope you enjoy! I will hopefully be positing Part 2 within the next few days!
  CW: Angst (?), violence, jealousy, fluffy (hopefully very? But who knows), smut because apparently I’m in a giving mood (I’m sorry I had to make the joke.), MDNI 18+ only, dom/sub sexual relationship.
Note- this is Unascended Astarion x GN! reader
*This has been proof read one time. It is 2:04 am and I have work in 6 hours LMFAO
Gif belongs to- ibacchante from Tumblr!
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    The campfire crackles in the distance and you think you even hear the faint sound of music.  You desperately yearn to be near the warmth of the fire talking to or watching one of your companions give a dramatic retelling of their experiences in battle.
  The warmth of your companions made places like the Shadow-Curse Land feel a lot less scary and foreign- they provide some normalcy in this strange journey. 
Unfortunately, you are hunched over in your cold tent with nothing but a light cantrip and your will power. You squint as you etch details into the oxen bone, taking the time to add the touches of silvery white dye to add an ethereal effect. Your hands cramp as you work to keep the paint within the designs you carved into the bone.
You have been painstakingly working on this necklace for a little over a month- maybe two? You have lost count at this point, but the calluses on your fingers tell you it’s been a while now since you started this project.
  You polish the bone with your cloth, wiping away the debris from your knife. You admire your handiwork; a perfect carving of the Elven Rune- Cadaith. You were able to create a loop at the top of the necklace for the long, thin, black leather strip you had been holding onto since the day after the Tiefling party- the same day you decided to take on this hand numbing project.
  You and your crew of oddballs had come through for the locals and obliterated the Goblin Camp Leaders- the tieflings had come to your camp and had decided to celebrate.
  It wasn’t that you were opposed to parties, but you’re not the most social person despite your profession as an Artisan. You miss the calm, quiet group of Druids you used to travel with- you even miss the hardwood floor of the Caravans and how much of a pain in the ass they were to fix. You miss not having to spend every waking moment and all of your strength on battling and the art of deception. You miss your tools and the landscapes you use to find your resources. You love to make crafts out of anything in the wild.
 Back to the rowdy tiefling party- again, you aren’t necessarily against parties, but they are overwhelming.
And the men! They are entirely too vulgar after a couple drinks. Silvanus help you if you had another drunk man stumble up to you and ask if he can, “fuck your brains out.” 
 Another man had begun to make his way towards you when you felt a cold hand grab you by the elbow and haul you off into the forest. It had been Astarion- who you had agreed to share a bed with that night. You had shared a bed before- after a camp party to celebrate killing Auntie Ethel, but nothing could have prepared you for the second time and how mind-blowing it would be (you had been excruciatingly awkward as it was your first time ever- he was pretty understanding thank Gods).
  “Astarion-”
  “Yes Darling?”
   He stops and looks at you- you look around and realize you are far from camp. You fiddle with your hands nervously- picking at your nails. 
“I um-” you clear your throat, “I really appreciate you- well- um… coming to my rescue, but I really don’t want to be a bother to you- you don’t need to stay wit-”
 You hadn’t been able to finish your sentence before he was gently kissing you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your glasses are entirely foggy from your breathing and you smile at him coyly as he pulls away. He gives you a genuine, real laugh before taking your glasses off and wiping them clean for you. You put them on, your eyes back in focus as you avoid his eyes.
He leans in and begins kissing along your neck, along your jawline, and back to your lips. He kisses you roughly, his tongue flicking across your lower lip, asking for access. He lifts you up from under your thighs before backing you into a tree. 
  He grinds up into you- his erection pressed against the burning heat in your core. He pulls at your shirt strings and gives you a look as if to ask if he can continue. You grab his face in your hands and kiss him as an answer to his question. 
  He discards your shirt and makes quick work of your trousers and under garments- all while kissing you so deeply the world is spinning and your entire body feels numb. 
  Suddenly he has you on your back as he smiles down at you mischievously. You look away, embarrassed as he takes in the sight of your body; a breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he gets up and makes quick work of his own clothes.
 You feel the space between your legs grow warmer and needier as you watch him stroke himself before he settles himself between your legs. He presses soft kisses all over your face as he inserts a finger between your folds and begins to toy with your clit. You whimper and moan as he pumps his finger in and out of you.
  “Good girl,” he growls into your ear and inserts another finger, picking up the pace.
  A soft, gasp escapes your lips as your walls stretch to fit around his other finger- getting to the point of borderline tears as you feel your orgasm get closer and closer. Astarion watches you use a stream of profanities, your hands gripping the grass so hard it's ripping. He kisses you on your forehead then- he stops. 
 You keen in protest from the emptiness between your thighs, but your words die on your lips as he pushes himself all the way between your folds, all the way to the hilt. You claw at his back, a pleased whimper escaping your mouth. He begins to kiss your jaw before you capture his lips with yours- he’s still not moving inside of you as you kiss him feverishly- your hands entangling themselves in his hair. He groans against your lips, holding you down by your waist and not allowing you to move. When you attempt to move your hips upward, desperate to get some friction, he groans in your mouth before pulling out completely and then thrusting himself roughly back into you. You look at him in anticipation as he gets off of you, still inside you as he adjusts your left leg so that he can get more access and he begins to massage your sore, neglected nipples with his fingers. 
You are desperate for any movement from him and you can tell he knows it- even in your drunken haze. 
 “Please.”
“Please what, my dear?”
 He says before pulling out to thrust into you completely again. You cry out, tears streaming down your face as you look away from him, trying not to let him have the satisfaction.. 
  He hums as he roughly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes.
 “Tell me, Darling,” a sly, teasing smile on his beautiful face, “do you want me to fuck your brains out?”
You nod and he pinches your nipples roughly- you arch your back and you feel him lift your hips up before spanking you hard.
"You don't get anything until you answer my question," he goads, his hand snaking it's way around your throat, "so tell me, do you want me to fuck your brains out?"
"Y-es. Yes I want you to fuck me ple-" he cuts you off with a snap of his hips.
He grabs your jaw roughly with his hands, "You know that's not what I asked you."
He begins to slowly move in and out of you, teasing you mercilessly. You groan in frustration- he knows he’s the only person who can say this to you and demand you to say it back to him.
"Please Astarion," you say tearfully, your need for pleasure taking over, "please fuck my brains out."
He smiles at you widely, "it would be my pleasure."
You whine and he pulls out of you, rolling you over onto your hands and knees. He comes up behind you and his hands find purchase in your hair as he begins to pound into your mercilessly. You lose yourself in pleasure- surely alerting everyone and their mothers to your activites- and if it's not the vulgar moans, it's the filthy sound of your bodies colliding.
He pulls you up to his chest by your hair, switching to putting his hand around the upper part of your throat, and puts his fangs to your neck, teasing the skin as he fucks up into you. You have one of your hands wrapped around his arm as he chokes you and the other is touching your clit- the coil of pleasure building up in your stomach as you whisper your consent between moans for Astarion to drink from you. He gives you a pleased hum in response.
The moment his fangs are piercing your neck is the same moment your orgasm rips through you and you have to fight not to slump against him. You feel his strong arms hold you up as he keeps fucking your sensitive mound, chasing his own orgasm. He stops sucking from the bite marks on your neck, lapping up the blood that begins to slowly trickle down towards your shoulders and chest. He let’s go of his grip on your throat and pushes you back onto your belly before roughly inserting himself inside you again.
"You are such a good girl," he grunts, "you are taking me so fucking well."
You begin to feel lightheaded when he finally cums inside you. Good thing you have a potion for that.
You both get your clothes on and he whisks you away to his tent- where you cuddled and talked for almost the entire night.
  The sex, as noted, is amazing, but you also enjoy so much more of him than just his body. You know Astarion struggles to believe you find anything about him interesting outside of sex, so you make a point of reminding him about all the other wonderful parts of him and you don't ever ask for sex or sexual favors. That ball is in his playing field as far as you are concerned.
You find yourself gravitating back to Astarion’s tent every night to listen about a new book he is reading or just to let him shower you with (arguably) questionable knowledge about the higher ups in Badlur's Gate . Sometimes you just talk about your lives, tangled in each other’s embraces, and falling asleep that way.
You had begun sleeping in the same tent shortly after he drank from you for the first time. You had been scared during a storm one night and he had heard you sniffling in your tent. You missed the safety of your Caravan during those first two weeks. 
  He had quickly dragged you over to his tent- griping about his hair, how “I told you that you needed better camping equipment”, and “really darling? Why are you wearing clothes with holes in them? No wonder you’re scared.”
    You have had an incredibly close bond ever since and you speak very freely with one another. You still become closed off every now and then (mostly from being socially and emotionally exhausted) but he was content to sit in the silence and just be in each other’s company. If he's in a grouchy mood, you sit with him in silence or let him just talk at you, and you support him when he wakes up from a particularly grueling nightmare. You rarely, if ever, go to your tent or stay in your tent anymore.
  However, your current passion project was not to be seen by his eyes until it was completely finished- hence the reason why you are in your freezing, semi abandoned tent. You enchant the amulet with “Invisibility” and after a test, you can proudly say your necklace for Astarion is ready.
  Shortly after the fight with the Goblins, Astarion had been complaining to you about how Gale “ate” the last necklace of Invisibility that they had found. 
  “He did call finders-keepers.”
 “Finders-keepers my ass, Darling. If he really believed that rule he wouldn’t have inhaled it the way he did right after finding it.”
  “It was rather unbecoming of him, wasn’t it?”
 “Cazador has done a lot of horrible, vile things to me over the last two centuries,” he scoffs, “but, Gale eating a perfectly good Amulet of Invisibility has somehow landed in the top 20 of worst things to happen to me.” 
  After that, you began your work on the Amulet and now that it’s finished- you get to give it to him.
 The idea makes your stomach turn. 
  What if he hates it?
  It’s not really his style, but you don’t make gaudy jewelry and you tried your best to make it look like it shimmers (you succeeded FYI, Nat 20 all the way). You hope he appreciates it on principle alone and doesn’t criticize you too harshly if he dislikes it. When you ran the idea by Karlach and showed her your sketch, she was immediately convinced that he would adore your gift.
“Don’t worry about a thing Soldier,” she said cheerily, “Fangs is going to adore it as much as he adores you!”
  You wrap the necklace in the nice, silk handkerchief and stuff it into the little leather bag. You take one final deep breath before pushing through the tent flap. You look around camp and see that mostly everyone is in their tent- Astarion included- but Wyll is by the fire dancing. You remember joking about him giving a demonstration for the camp. As you begin to walk towards Astarion’s tent- Wyll calls out to you.
 “Tav,” he says brightly, “join me for a dance?”
 Another thing you love about Astarion- he is very good at telling people ‘no’ for you. Yes, you should be sticking up for yourself and setting boundaries on your own. You are so wired to make everyone else happy that it impedes your ability to say no. Astarion is helping you learn and supports you when you freeze up, but Astarion is not here in this moment and if he hears what Wyll has said to you- he has made no indication of it.
  You smile tightly and put the pouch in your pocket before taking his hand. You are basically robotic as you go through the motions and yet- for some Gods forsaken reason Wyll plants a kiss right on your lips. As he pulls back and sees your look of absolute horror- he begins to apologize profusely. 
 “Honestly Wyll,” you awkwardly squeak out,”it’s totally fine. I just- um- well… I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.”
 “I understand and as disappointed as I am- I am grateful for your forgiveness and I hope we can remain friends.”
 You smile brightly, “Thank you Wyll and of course. Good night.”
 He bids you farewell and you walk with extra pep in your step. You set a boundary and you are over the moon excited to share with Astarion. 
  Except when you get inside the tent- all of your stuff is right in the entryway. Astarion has his back facing you and is pretending to be interested in a book. You frown.
 “Star?”
 “Oh don’t worry Darling- I figured I would save you the uncomfortable conversation,” he says with apathy in his voice, “we both know those aren’t your strong suite.”
  You flinch at his cold, blank tone and the harshness of his words. You feel yourself becoming consumed with confusion and hurt. Your hand is clutching onto the pouch in your pocket. He looks at you and he looks far away despite the smile on his face.
 “Well go along now, I’m sure your new lover is waiting for you. I’m happy for you honestly,” he pauses, giving you a cold, malicious grin, “pretending to be invested in this connection has really been bothersome these last couple weeks.”
  Logically, a part of you knows he is just jealous and is lashing out. You should stay and try to explain what happened- reassure him even? 
  Emotionally? You feel like you just got stabbed over and over again. Oh and then someone came up to you and used a shocking grasp. You try to open your mouth, the tears welling in your eyes as you look at him. 
  He just looks at you coldly, “Well, leave.”
  You wordlessly nod, dropping the leather pouch back into your pocket and you grab your things and numbly head back over to your tent. You roll out your bed roll and stare up at the dark tarp above your head; you let the tears stream down your face as silent sobs wrack your body. You already miss him.
 _________________________________________________
  You didn’t sleep well that night- you woke up with puffy eyes and a sore throat. You had spent the majority of the night freezing and jumping at every noise. You would get the occasional thirty minutes of sleep here and there, but if you weren’t scared awake, your bruised, broken heart woke you up. Your heart thumped unevenly all night- worried the bumps in the night were Astarion packing up his things and leaving. 
  Your chest aches as you get ready to leave and you are grateful that the Shadow-Cursed Lands are so poorly lit because it allows you to hide the rough night you have. You are also grateful to see Astarion is still here.
You, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll set out to explore more of the Shadowlands. Karlach told Astarion he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to- you were too tired to say anything in response to his complaints and you suppose Karlach became fed up. He’s quiet after that, so quiet you think he might have left. Except you hear him chatting with Wyll during a short rest.
  Shadowheart walks happily next to you- chittering about Dark Justiciars and how she can feel Shar or whatever. You are just trying to focus on her and stop thinking about him. You have been successful in avoiding him and not looking at him for the entirety of the morning and you need to keep it that way. 
  _________________________________________________
   Astarion can’t place where in the conversation he went wrong, but the fight with Malus Thorm has been nothing short of a disaster. The Sisters are ruthless and Malus is much stronger than any of them anticipated at first glance.
  Astarion usually fights right at your side, but he assumes that your new lover will be keeping you safe. He suppresses the bile and tears that threaten to come up. He has your protection still and he knows that because Wyll would have thrown him out of camp otherwise. He was never meant to end up with you- you were always meant to be a means to an end.
If anything, he should be thrilled for you. Wyll is a good, decent man and much worthier of your affections than Astarion could ever be.
 So why does it hurt so fucking much? And why did he want to kick Wyll over a ravine when he kissed you?
He shakes the thought as he strikes down two more Sisters. He steals a glance in Wyll’s direction (to check on you) and immediately notices that you are nowhere in the premises and the Blade of Frontiers was battling with Karlach. Astarion scans the room in a frenzy of panic.
   He turns around just in time to see Malus lift you up by your neck and fling you into a column. Your glasses fell to the ground as your back makes contact with the stone and the sound of shattering bones echoes through the room as the Sisters begin to move forward.
 Astarion watches in horror as you are struggling to pop up and begin touching the floor around you , but by the time you seem to realize finding your glasses is a moot effort- the Sisters descend on you as Malus turns his attention to Wyll and Karlach.
  Wyll acknowledges what just happened, but doesn’t go to help you. Anger rips through Astarion like a wildfire as Wyll turns and tells Shadowheart you need help. He’s about to help Malus take out Wyll- until another scream for help pierces the air as you throw random cantrips at your attackers.
 Astarion rushes forward, cutting his way through the remaining Sisters in the middle of the room. He really could give a shit less at this time if it pisses Wyll off that he was the one who protected you- in fact, he’s probably going to be stabbing Wyll when you all get back to camp. 
  Astarion destroys the Sisters surrounding you in a flurry of gore and steel. He ignores his other companions as he searches for you frantically. 
  You had disappeared by the time he came to your aid. Astarion knows that you have a tendency to slip into your Cat form when you are particularly scared and can’t see- using the animal’s powerful nose to guide you away from danger. 
 Astarion goes near the beds and crouches down- a sigh escaping his lips. 
  All 8 pounds of you and your black fluff is crouched under the bed and you hiss in surprise when he clicks his tongue at you. You squint your eyes at him before sniffing the air. You cautiously walk forward and sniff his outreached hand. You begin to purr loudly and rub your head against his knuckles.
 He laughs with a mix of hysteria and joy as the realization that you are okay settles into his bones.
 “It’s okay Little Love, the Sisters are dead,” he says softly, “I’m so sorry, I should have been next to you. I just assumed a beast with such prowess as yourself would be able to fend for themselves.”
 You meow in indignation as you climb on top of him to bite the tip of his nose and he can’t help but laugh. 
“Does your ego hurt less now, Little Love?”
You give him an amused look that makes him bust out laughing again.
He had asked you once why you were just a Black domestic cat instead of a Panther. You had argued that you are just as ferocious as a Panther in that form. Not to mention, you would have a better chance of shooting an arrow straight than turning into a Panther, but you weren’t about to admit that (even though he knows). 
   Astarion scoops you up in his arms and pauses- the smell of your blood floods his senses. He grabs you by your scruff and you yelp as he inspects you for injuries. 
  You scratch at his hand and he drops you. You yowl in pain and leer at him as you begin to change back into your humanoid form. 
If Astarion was capable of feinting, this would have been that moment. He drops to his knees beside you and begins trying to find a healing potion to take the edge off.
  You have a compound fracture where your shin was and it’s bleeding heavily. Your right shoulder is out of place, your left wrist is twisted in an atypical fashion, and your left cheek is blooming with an angry, purple bruise. He winces when you inhale a sharp breath as you try to breathe in, clutching at your rib cage. 
He doesn’t catch the choked gasp that climbs up his throat in time- your eyes search for him in the dark before finally settling on him.
“Your beautiful eyes are really helpful when it’s blurry.”
Your voice is so tired and he can hear the pain in your voice.
“How come?”
“I can actually find you,” you pause, “you make me feel safe.”
  You look at him, your eyes glassy with shock. You smile brightly at him and he smiles brightly back at you. He never thought anyone would associate him with protection, safety. Your words echo in his brain.
You’re make me feel safe.
You go to say something again before you look at him with wide, scared eyes and promptly lose consciousness. The scream that comes out of his mouth is foreign to his own ears. It sounds fearful, angry- heartbroken. Astarion tries to shake you awake, yelling your name over and over.
 “Please wake up Darling- you’re safe,” he whispers through choked sobs, “come back to me please.” 
Nothing. He can barely tell if you are breathing still as your heart thuds softly in your chest. He calls for Shadowheart two, three, four more times.
"Please," he whimpers, "I don't want to have to be without you forever- I can't be."
  The weight of his words hits him like a train- his plan had well and truly failed. Under normal, non- life threatening emergency situations, he would probably panic about the strength of his emotions. Instead, he sits here begging for the chance to be able to tell you how he really feels. He wants to move so badly, to drag Shadowheart over here to heal you, but he can't bare to leave you in your vulnerable state. He keeps calling for Shadowheart- his voice begins to crack.
Astarion feels the worst of his anxieties vanish as you suddenly start taking long, ragged, tired breaths. He grabs a healing potion out of his pocket and tilts your head as he pours it into your mouth. You swallow the fluid gingerly. Your eyes are barely open when he hears you communicate through the tadpole.
Thank you for saving me. Again.
Astarion slowly strokes the side of your face, brushing the flyaway hairs out of your eyes.
"I saved you for my own selfish reasons," he whispers, while taking your right hand gently, "close your eyes and rest- I will keep you safe. Shadowheart is coming."
You nod lazily before closing your eyes, your hand in his still. Astarion sighs in relief when your breathing gets stronger, but he is no healer. Where the hells is that damn Cleric!?
 “Shadowheart!!!!”
577 notes · View notes
mamisfavmosher · 6 months
Note
hi love, can i request something similar to tap out but where reader’s being too overstimulated and passes out please? thank you!
of course! thanks for the request!
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pass out // poly!judgment day x fem!reader
(see what i did there?) anyways, sorry this took so long...
SMUT - MINORS DNI
warnings: kinda rough!judgment day, reader passes out, spanking, degradation kinda, slapping, almost safewording, crying, etc
Readers POV
"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!" I pleaded.
To be fair, I had been a brat all day and it was only a matter of time until I did something that the rest of the Judgment Day deemed out of line. The act in question was intentionally tripping Damian on his way to the ring just to be petty. In the moment, he had immediately turned to glare at me, but refused to acknowledge the situation anymore until we reached the dressing room.
"Oh, so now you wanna apologize? Too bad. You've been a brat all day and I'm sick of it!" Priest raised his voice. His hand closed around my throat, pinning me to the wall. I watched in a panic as Rhea's lips painted a sinister smile onto her face. "You dumb whore." Damian shoved me toward the couch where Rhea was now sitting. I felt tears starting to gather in my eyes as I knew what was coming.
Rhea cracked her knuckles and pulled me over her lap. "You think you can humiliate the Judgment Day, huh?" Her hand came down hard on my ass and I immediately tried to squirm out of her hold. I gasped in pain as I felt the tingle starting to form on my skin from where her ring-clad fingers had struck. "Bad news, you little bitch," Her hand came down hard again. "You can't." I writhed in her grip as she continued spanking me, the pain increasing greatly with each hit.
"Mami, please! Please, stop, it hurts!" I sobbed as tears rolled down my cheeks. She only hit me harder.
"Serves you write, chica," Dom moved closer and fisted his hand into my hair. "You wanted to act like a brat, so now we're gonna treat you like one." He bared his teeth toward me in an evil grin, the hand in my hair moving to roughly shove my face to the side before slapping my cheek. Tears pricked in my eyes as the pain spread through my face. "Open up." His thumb hooked into my mouth and forcefully opened it wider. Dom quickly shoved his pants down his legs before thrusting into my mouth.
Rhea made a sound of approval from behind me as I gagged and choked on Dom's cock, her finger nails scratching over my sore flesh. "Why don't you two boys come and join in on the fun, too?" She looked toward Damian and Finn who had been watching the scene play out so far. The two men smirked at each other before making their way over to us.
Finn was now side by side with Dom, swiftly pulling his pants down his legs and taking hold of his cock. Damian had walked behind me, muttering comments to Rhea about fucking the brattiness out of me. Both of his hands came down hard on my ass, a loud slap resonating through the room. I let out a yelp and flinched at the stinging ache. "Maybe you should think twice before you try and embarrass me of all people, you fucking brat." Damian seethed out and shoved his cock into my ass.
A pained squeal escaped my throat as the burning sensation of being stretched too quickly appeared. Nearly two seconds later, Dom removed himself from my mouth so Finn could have a turn. Finn pushed his dick all the way to the back of my throat causing me to gag and sputter. His hands were placed on the sides of my head as he held me in place, my nose pressed against his stomach. I moved my hands to shove at Finn's legs, my oxygen running low.
Finn moved away for a few seconds as Dom came to kneel by my side, a look of feigned pity on his face. He quickly captured my wrists in his hold and nodded at Finn to continue. I inhaled a small gasp before I was pressed back into the same position. "Brats don't get to fuckin' breathe, lass." He sneered at me.
Small mewls sounded from the back of my throat as I squirmed in attempt to escape the situation. Periodically, Finn would back up long enough for me to take one breath before swiftly blocking off my oxygen again.
All the different sensations had black dots forming in my vision. Rhea's nails felt like a chainsaw ripping my flesh. Damian's aggressive penetration had my entire body ignited on fire. Finn was causing my mind to spiral into a panic as he seemed to be offering me less oxygen each time. Dom's position of restraining my only defense is causing an intense fight or flight reaction within me, and right now, flight is winning the war.
I attempted to inhale, but as nothing reached my lungs, my vision went out. My body lost all strength as it gave out and went completely limp.
Dom was the first to notice. He was the only one with a clear view of my face. Remaining silent for a few seconds, he observed to try and understand what was happening. Once he realized I had passed out, he quickly alerted the others. All four of them stopped what they were doing immediately. "Sweetheart?" Dom's thumb gently rubbed across my cheek. "Can you hear me?" He was panicking now.
Rhea moved my body so that I was lying on my back on the couch, her hand gently running through my hair, trying to bring me back. "Baby..." Her eyebrows furrowed as I remained unmoving. "Babydoll, c'mon.... wake up." She muttered.
Finn had run off to get some water and a snack as the other three still worked on bringing me back.
Damian gently rubbed at my legs, Dom was tightly holding my hand, and Rhea was consistently observing my face while running her fingers through my hair.
As my body calmed down and a steady income of oxygen had reentered my lungs, my eyes slowly opened. The three of them had relieved looks on their faces.
The reminders of what had just happened flashed in my mind and I immediately flinched away from their touches.
"Mi amor..." Damian removed his hands from my legs, but stayed close by. "Are you okay? What just happened? Talk to us." In the back of my mind, I knew he was concerned along with the rest of them, but all I could hear right now was the aggression in his tone from just a few moments ago. I faintly shook my head as hot tears began to streak down my cheeks.
Finn ran back into the room with a water bottle and snack in hand. He set them down before quickly kneeling down next to me. "Is she okay? What did I miss?" He asked in a hurry. Dom quietly filled him in that I had just woken up.
".... I couldn't breathe." My voice was weak and quiet, coming out in sobs. "And- and there was nothing I could do about it." I cried. My hands wiped at the tears streaming down. The weight of the room became heavy as they realized their mistake. They had given me no way of escaping the situation.
"I'm so sorry, babygirl. I didn't even notice." Rhea said, almost speechless at the realization. "We're so so sorry, please." Her hand fidgeted on the edge of the couch, itching to grab mine. I chewed on my bottom lip, contemplating everything in my head. My eyes drifted to the ceiling as I choked back another sob.
"It was so scary, Mami." I sniffled, my hand sliding into her warm palm. She acknowledged the sign that I was ready for touch and immediately pulled me into her strong arms. I was placed on her lap and the boys sat on either side of us.
Rhea cuddled me into her chest, pressing soft kisses to my head. "I know, baby. I know. I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise." She shushed me.
"I'm sorry for being a brat, but I didn't think it would lead to this." I mumbled into Rhea's neck.
"No, no, no. Baby, this isn't your fault at all. It's ours. It never should've gone that far and that's on us. Don't blame yourself for something you can't control. We love you so much and it breaks our hearts to see that this happened because of us and our carelessness. I just hope you can forgive us, sweetheart." Priest spoke passionately with a comforting hand on my leg.
"Love, ya mean the world to us and I hope you know that. And I'm sorry for what happened tonight, but you have my word that we would never do this on purpose." Finn reassured.
"...I know." I glanced around at them all.
"We love you, pretty girl." Rhea peppered kisses on my cheek. "So so much!" A deep kiss on the lips. "And we're so sorry."
"I love you guys, too." I gave them a soft, reassuring smile.
They spent the rest of the night holding me close and continuously telling me how much they loved me and appreciated me, and how sorry they were.
At the end of the day, they could be very rough, intense people, but they loved me endlessly and made sure to show me.
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etaleah · 9 months
Text
I think a lot about how Shadow probably started out very similar to Sonic in his worldview but then the trauma surrounding Maria’s death changed that forever. It opened his eyes to a darker side of life that he can’t un-know, and he can’t ever be as optimistic and innocent as Sonic again.
Shadow didn’t attack the G.U.N. soldiers raiding the Ark because he likely believed, as Sonic does, that hurting people is wrong even if they deserve it and even if they hurt you first. He likely believed, as Sonic does, that you should always opt for the most moral, non-hurtful path, and he tried to take that path by escaping with Maria.
And then she was killed anyway. She and him did the right thing and the moral thing and she was killed anyway. Because it turns out the good guys don’t always win no matter what, and sometimes the bad guys don’t see the error of their ways. Sometimes you do have to get violent and dirty your hands if you want to protect what matters to you. Shadow had to learn those lessons the hard way and it changed him.
Now he’s trying so hard to make sure Sonic doesn’t have to learn this lesson the same way he did. He’s trying so hard to spare Sonic the pain and trauma and loss that he went through because he knows that Sonic loves his friends as much as he loved Maria. He warns him, over and over. Nine can’t be trusted, Mr. Tinker will turn back into Eggman, Cosmo can’t be left alive. He tries to tell him.
But Sonic doesn’t listen. Not only that, he mocks Shadow for it. He makes dickish jokes about “Lol your trust issues are why you have no friends” and “Well you lost your memory too sweetie, so shut ya face!” =)
And every single time, Shadow is proven right. He warns Sonic to try and spare him, Sonic ignores/is snarky to him, the exact problem Shadow predicted would happen does, and the cycle repeats again. And again. And again. No matter how many times Shadow is proven right, Sonic still won’t listen because he’s been lucky enough to never have experienced that level of trauma and unconsciously assumes, a little arrogantly, that what happened to Maria and Shadow could never happen to him or his friends.
I love Sonic and I understand his worldview too, but man do I get why Shadow wants to beat the fuck out of him sometimes.
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ay0nha · 7 months
Note
This world needs sanji ANGST...i haven't seen anything like that that isn't immediatley fluff so plz plz plz do angst OR maybe enemies to lovers but reeealll enemies ther'es gotta be beeeffff
tension. jealousy. protectivness. what the hell. where is it.
thank u :3
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Pairing: opla!Sanji x f!reader
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings: canon-typical things, smoking, cursing, the Baratie, mentions of annoying/handsy costumers, RUSHED ending (sorry), etc.
A/N: Hello anon! Thank you so much for the request. I started a little sm sm based of this request and a couple similar ones. It's just a start, so let me know if I should turn this into something more/longer...I have ideas...COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. Enjoy.
PART II
You always preferred sailing on quiet nights.
Fewer lights from the ship scared the stars into submission. It was the only time your shoulders settled and your breaths became leveled. The air’s humidity wrapped you in warmth and the patterned waves lulled your racing thoughts. 
Yet, the lights of the Baratie reminded you that those idyllic nights remained only in memory, few and far between. The chatter radiated an aura, which functioned as a reminder of the never ending responsibilities of hospitality. 
Your dwindling cigarette marked the time left of your break, but you savored every second. You slouched into your shoulder, head resting softly to the side to acknowledge the footsteps approaching you. 
“Sanji.” Even with your back to your newly found company, you knew who had found you. He always had. “If Zeff sent you…” You drew in a deep and finalizing breath, the crackle satisfying in contrast. “Turn around and fuck off.” 
The breath of his laughter exposed his delight at your demise. “Your funeral—
“—Our.” You corrected him. Finally offering a glance, you saw he’d replaced his apron for a tie. Always trouble, you thought.
“Nah, you’ll be alright…” He tutted with humor. “Regardless, who can I count on to spit on my grave?”
You hummed to hide a semblance of a smile. Sanji’s charm was worthless to you, never working in his favor. It had taken years of coaxing past vindication to even occupy the same space. So as always, you’d removed yourself to create a more familiar distance. 
“Funny.” You only ever entertained him with sarcasm.  Flicking your butt into the darkness, you began to walk away. “Just don’t get in the way.” 
The night was busy—every night was busy. You hadn’t minded the adrenaline or the late hours. It was what kept you going, kept you from realizing that slowing down would never be an option. 
But then the constantly spinning world stopped. Your wrist was caught in the hand of a guest, the very one whose crude remarks failed to cause a reaction. However, your plastered smile only encouraged him. You became a challenge he hadn’t realized would eventually retaliate. 
It caused a scene, glass to be broken, and scolding from Zeff that echoed throughout the kitchen. Your pent up venom led you to an ultimatum; cool off or leave. Now, your headache dulled in comparison to the nausea you felt walking back in. 
Hearing your name you turned to see Sanji’s face illuminated with his lighter. His eyes were fixed on his task, but you knew he was speaking directly to you. “You’re alright, though? Right?”
It was happening more frequently than you’d like to admit; your sarcastic insult caught in your throat and your breath pinned to the roof of your mouth. Your words were lost. Sanji was responsible for the confusion of feelings and it only furthered your resentment. 
Yet, your voice was never found and so you nodded with promise. 
Instead, your wrist throbbed and you were sure by the end of the service the bruising would surface. But you rolled it as if the action could wash away the pain. You straightened your posture, pulled a practiced smile, and held a soft air as you began again greeting guests table by table. 
The people dining waited their turn just as those rubbing elbows with them. From the decor, the crystal, story of the menu, even you were a part of the experience.  Performance was key and you were nothing but stellar at pretending to be someone else. 
“Good evening—” You greeted.  Your voice could have been mistaken for sultry. Some nights you struggled to recognize yourself. “—I’ve noticed you’re back and your wine is getting low.”
“Always attentive, you.” The Baratie regular reveled in the banter. It was formulaic at this point, but the atmosphere captivated you both. 
“I can’t help but play favorites.” You countered, granting a heavy pour of wine into his glass. Your dress cut low, ever dip intentional to distract from the mountain of Berries owed for the aged wine provided. 
His eyes took in your figure, falling into the trap. “Apparently, I’ve got competition.”
You wanted to feel good, as you normally did. The fabric complimented your physique and kissed your skin with such sensuality. The feeling of hungry eyes on you never grew old. The assurance was always refreshing. However, there was a weight tonight that wasn’t the fault of the fabric.  
“Pirates can never resist treasure.” You pushed past the crack in your demeanor. You smiled wider, but your eyes cast down at your wrist hoping it didn’t reveal too much too soon.  
The bark of laughter almost made you flinch. “Not the filthy pirate! Your friend there—” The man continued, complaining about nonsense while raising his already dwindling glass to Sanji. “100 Berries he’s spit in my food.”
That swirl in your chest had just settled, but it returned as your eyes met Sanji’s.  His glare wasn’t shy, burning through you. Judgment about your pairing of wine, most likely. Regardless, you noted the fluidity in his movements pulled him closer to you. 
The man laughed at the slight staring contest. You internally cursed at breaking first. 
“He’s harmless.” You muttered, pouring another serving of wine. Moving your body kept you distracted from the unspoken. 
“Harmless?” The man scoffed, inebriation heavy in his inflection.“The scum of a pirate walked—well, crawled really—out of here with nothing but a bloody promise of a slow death.” 
You remained light and playful as you finished the conversation, distracting your regular enough to slip away. You made your rounds just as Sanji had, but you were clever to dance around him, avoid him. 
It worked at first, but it only aggravated Sanji. He spoke loudly and boldly about the well-known service, slipping in insults and intentionally sabotaging everything you’d just smoothed out. It may not have been intentional. It rarely was if you thought about it, his disappointment reserved for Zeff. 
It was as though Sanji had tunnel vision. His upset became yours conscious or not, as every complaint and move he made contradicted yours. It made you trip and stumble. It began to make the night agonizingly slow as he became the barrier between you and the end of the service.  
You’d boiled over, pulling harshly on his arm until you both crammed into a blindspot of the rest of the restaurant. 
Sanji’s eyes blew wide, but his smirk only widened. Even in his state of mild shock, his mind wandered. “What are you—  
You straightened his tie harshly, a threat. “Fix your attitude.” 
“Mine?” He countered with disbelief. “If Zeff understood—
“I don’t care about Zeff. I don’t care about you.” You hissed, pushing a finger deep into his chest. Slowly your composure was unraveling, but you regained it quickly, speaking pointedly, “What I care about is this night being over.”
Sanji took the beat of silence to look between your eyes. You were frazzled, your collectedness hanging on by a thread. He could guess why, but you’d never admit he was correct. 
“Are you even listening?” You prompted again, ready to move back with utter impatience. 
However, Sanji touched the wrist that was within distance causing your body to freeze.  “You need ice.”
His hold was gentle, but he felt the heat come from the swelling. The pain was catching up to you. 
“Enough.” You spat, wobbling with your steps backward. “Enough of—” Tonight, you wanted to say. The kindness threw you off, made you feel seen in a way you wouldn’t accept. “Just—
“We’ll finish the night smoothly.” Sanji spoke evenly, decidedly for the both of you. “Then, I’ll find ice for you.” 
Your chin raised for your childness to surface. “I can take care of myself.” 
“I have no doubt.” Sanji felt his emotions settle on his face, the smirk was hard to call on, but the air had become too tense not to with such unfamiliar territory. “But yet, If I don’t help you, you’ll milk it for weeks and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
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