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moon7jay · 3 months

Text

OKAY (p.sh)

Warnings : smut, rough sex, degradation, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Dedicated to •┈┈⛧ @hoondrop

Sunghoon didn't think of it much when you let him into your apartment without a single word when usually you'd be huffing and puffing because he showed up unannounced. He didn't think much of it when you slipped off your dress silently and laid on the bed, spread open, waiting for him to use you however he wanted.

He attributed it to you being really needy. Sunghoon was too lost in his own lust to notice how you cried out his name when he slipped himself home inside of your wet heat in one painful thrust. Your nails dug into his back and your hazy eyes fell on his expressions of bliss, hot pants falling from his mouth, brows furrowed and eyes fixated on your heaving chest. He wasn't even looking at your face and an acute pain started to bloom inside your chest.

"Fuck-oh god-never been inside a pussy so fucking good ,you were just made to be fucked" He grunted, pelting his hips harshly into you. His touches were rough, palms groping around your body in a desperate abandon, leaving bruises in their wake. Usually you loved it, your body welcomed the familiar sting and the pleasure that came along with it, but the bruises from your inside were looming on the surface today, making you feel like an open, gaping wound.

He buried his face inside the crook of your neck, folding your body in half, his thrusts merciless as always. "fucking slut, can't stop coming back to this tight little cunt, you should get paid for it" he panted in your ear. His words were hitting you as hard as his thrusts were, the hollowness in your chest intensifying by the second. Soft sobs started leaving your lips before you could stop them.

"Yeah ? Does it hurt?" He asked coming up to rest his forehead against yours, looking you dead in the eye for the first time since he came over. His eyes were dark in lust, hot breaths of exertion falling on your lips while his hips kept pounding you into the sheets. You nodded, your vision becoming blurry as you were unable to control the onslaught of tears that was wracking your body. "You can take it, just keep letting me use this hot little body till I'm fucking satisfied" His movements became rapid, you could tell that he was close. Your walls were breaking down with each snap of his hips, pain beginning to constrict your throat. Your breaths were becoming shorter, sobs becoming ugly, the physical pain transcending into emotional one.

You hated it, hated feeling so vulnerable and raw, especially in front of someone who didn't give two fucks about you. Maybe it was the stupid feelings you had started harbouring for the boy above you that were begging him to notice your suffering. To see you, look beyond the relief that your body had to offer and peek behind the mask which was your face. To hold your aching body till it didn't feel like something was clawing it's way out of your chest, till you could voice out your grief and give this empty feeling a name.

Sunghoon's mind was beginning to get clouded over by the feelings of ecstasy, his hips stuttering, feeling his high approaching closer. Even though his body was responding to the pleasure you were giving him, something about the way you were looking at him was filling him with unease. He had never seen you crying so much during sex and something inside him was telling him that this was something else. Those weren't the sobs of pleasure that were racking your tiny form underneath him, your wails sounded like cries of actual pain and he wasn't sure what to do. His high faded into the void the more that he focused on your quivering lips and flooded eyes, his hips coming to a halt inside of you. When you didn't stop wailing despite the lack of his assault on your lower body, sunghoon's chest constricted in panic. Did he hurt you? what the fuck was going on?

You were jolted out of your agony by the feeling of two big palms cupping your face.

"Y/n? Hey, hey, calm down" Sunghoon's panic filled voice penetrated through the viel of tears covering your eyes. It took you a while to notice how he wasn't inside of you anymore, the aching between your legs was lost somewhere between your grief stricken cries. You pushed him away and curled into yourself, wrapping your hands around your middle to find some sort of comfort. Rocking your body back and forth to calm your stuttering breaths. This was all you had. For as long as you can remember, this tiny stroke of comfort was all you had to ground yourself to reality. The fact that someone else was witnessing your breakdown was making you feel defenseless. "G-Go please" you sobbed and closed your eyes to drown out your surroundings.

Sunghoon's brain was going into overdrive. Seeing you like this was something he had not thought about even in his worst nightmares and he felt helpless. He didn't want to leave but at the same time he didn't want to push your limits either, so he gathered his clothes and dressed himself as fast as he could. There was an intense urge to hold you that was blooming in his chest, but who was he kidding? He couldn't comfort people for shit. Sunghoon didn't do emotions, he didn't do feelings and he sure as fuck didn't care about anyone, so why were you making him feel this way?

As he took one last look at your naked body curled into a fetus position, your cries tearing through his heart, sunghoon did what he did best. He left.

As you stared at the empty screen of your phone with no calls or messages from sunghoon, you could hear the distinct sound of your heart breaking. One would think you would have gotten used to that sound by now. How pathetic.

Did you not know how it was gonna end from the beginning? or when you decided to be vulnerable and scare him away ? Did you really think you meant something to him? That you meant more to him than just a warm body to fuck? How many heart breaks would it take for you to realize that you were just convenient? Convenient and replaceable and so so naive. You wouldn't call yourself naive tho, you were just desperate. Choosing to ignore reality to live in momentary illusions of happiness. You guess this is what becomes of people who come out of broken homes, searching for little specks of love where it doesn't exist, deluding yourself till the glaring reality decides to shove you back to where you came from. Somewhere along the way, you had come to terms with the fact that you couldn't make people love you. You had always lacked that ability, to make someone want you, to make someone stay.

You picked on the scab of wound on your knuckle mindlessly, chuckling to yourself as tears started streaming down your face again. You out of all people should have known better. You had so much love inside of you and no one to give it to. And what was excess love if not grief? Where do you put this agony? How do you get rid of this aching need to be enough for someone else?

He must be with some other girl right now, some girl who didn't ruin his pleasure with random breakdowns and ugly sobs. Someone who wasn't so difficult and unlovable and excruciatingly clingy. you kept scratching till the healed skin was peeling off, making way for warm blood to ooze out. A sigh fell from your quivering lips at the familiar sting, wondering if he stayed when other girls asked him to.

Sunghoon downed his 6th shot of the night and yet, he was wide awake and functioning. He'd been sitting in this godforsaken bar for days but no amount of alcohol could take you out of his head. You were like a constant itch at the back of his mind. What fucked him up the most was the fact that he missed you. Utterly and desperately. And not just your body, he missed YOU. He missed your giggles and he missed your flustered smiles. He missed the way you sassed him when he teased you. He missed watching his big palms engulf your small ones.

The past few days had been enough to bring him to the glaring realization that he needed you. He cared about you. Your wails were still ringing in his ears and your broken voice when you told him to leave was haunting him at nights. His dark circles could attest to that. His hands shook with the desperate need to call you and hear your voice but he was a coward. He left you in your worst moment and the guilt and shame was eating him from the inside. What would he even say to you? You probably hated him now.

His mind drifted off to the conversation you had with him a few weeks ago. He'd been getting ready to leave when your soft, hesitant voice had spoken the words which changed the trajectory of his life. "c-can you stay?" you'd asked and sunghoon had looked at you like he'd seen a ghost. Your tiny figure had been wrapped in your white sheets while you peered up at him nervously, your fingers fiddling with the stray thread on the duvet. "can you stop being fucking clingy?" He'd replied, regretting his words as soon as he'd seen you visibly flinch. Then truth was that he'd been afraid. He was scared then and he was scared now. Scared of how badly he'd wanted to stay.

He downed another shot and hoped it would be enough to give him the liquid courage for what he was about to do.

You didn't know what to expect when your doorbell rang in the middle of the night. You were lounging on your couch in the living room, staring blankly at the romcom playing on your television. Your first thought was to ignore it, the emotional distress of the past few days had taken so much away from you physically that you had little to no strength left in your body.

But whoever was behind that door was persistent. Ringing and ringing till you couldn't help but heave yourself up from the couch in frustration.

You yanked the door open and froze. It took a few seconds for you to process the fact that he was standing in front of you and another few seconds to stop yourself from running into his arms. You swallowed harshly and stepped aside to let him in. His eyes were fixated on you and you were looking anywhere but at him. Not quite ready to face your demons just yet. You weren't surprised to see him at your door to be honest, he couldn't stay without sex for too long.

At least you are useful for something, you thought. You were in the middle of slipping off your top's strap down your shoulder when his voice interrupted you. "What are you doing?" He asked, making you look up at him, staring at him blankly. "Getting undressed" you replied in a solemn monotone like it was the most obvious thing in the world but he shook his head, his gaze intense "why? "

"Isn't that what you're here for?"

Your genuinely confused question hit sunghoon like a slap across the face. He knew that he had been treating you like shit but why were you treating yourself like this? It made him want to puke. He shook his head again and willed his heart to calm down "I'm not here to have sex with you"

His words sounded like static to you. Oh. He was here to break things off with you, because of course he was. Did you really think he was going to come back to you for sex after what you had done when he could have any girl he wanted for the night? You really were delusional. You bit your lower lip to stop it from wobbling when you felt tears gathering at your waterline. So this was it then? You really had driven another person you loved away from you successfully.

"I-im sorry, j-just don't hate me please" you spoke through gritted teeth, blinking rapidly to avoid crying in front of him again. If he couldn't love you, you wanted to make sure he didn't leave hating you. You honestly wouldn't be able to live with yourself if he did.

Sunghoon watched your cowering form inching away from him and he was overcome with an intense urge to wrap you in his arms and keep you close. You looked so scared and small standing there, asking him to not hate you. Silly little girl, he thought. How could he ever hate you?

He rubbed a shaky hand over his face to choose his next words carefully but you interpreted his actions the wrong way. Your throat constricted and you fisted the hem of your top tightly. The feeling of desperation was beginning to overpower your rational thoughts, what were you going to do if he left? Your feet moved before you could stop yourself and your shaky fingers were tugging on his shirt softly. When his dark eyes met yours, you couldn't stop the tears from pouring down your cheeks. "G-give me one chance, I won't ruin it this time" you hiccuped through your sobs. "Y/n- " please sunghoon i-i'll be so good and s- so quiet, just u-use m-your words were cut of by a sobbed gasp escaping your lips when sunghoon pinned you against the wall behind you forcefully, his body pressed firmly against yours. You stared up at him with wide teary eyes and he looked angry, the vein on his forehead throbbing visibly. "Stop that" He spoke sternly through gritted teeth and cupped your face in his palms, resting his forehead against yours. "Stop treating yourself like a fucking object y/n, this isn't you" His lips captured yours before you could react and the softness of the kiss caught you off gaurd. You didn't remember the last time you had been kissed with so much tenderness and you couldn't help but sob into his mouth, your hands fisting his shirt desperately. Sunghoon didn't stop kissing you. More like, he couldn't stop kissing you. Hoping that he could convey with his kiss, all the words that he couldn't say. His hold on your face was soft and you couldn't help but press yourself closer to his body, seeking warmth, looking for comfort. He pulled away briefly, his forehead still pressed against yours and he stared right into your soul. His thumbs reached up to wipe your tears and you hiccuped through your sniffles. "would you believe me if I said that I'm here to stay baby?" He asked softly. The sweet nickname was something he'd only called you in throes of passion sometimes, so the fact that he was consciously speaking to you with so much affection made your heart hurt. Hope fluttered like butterflies in your stomach and you searched his face. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get lost in his affection even if he was lying, so exhausted from your emotional turmoil. Your eyes flooded with tears and you sobbed a pathetic "no" while you shook your head. Sunghoon closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against yours, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. "will you give me a chance to prove it to you?" He asked, his hot breath warming up your mouth. You bit your lower lip and buried your face into his chest, unable to stop yourself from crying your heart out. This felt like a fever dream and you wanted to stay in it a little longer. You wanted to feel his arms around you, holding you closer in a way only you had ever done to yourself. He wrapped your body in his embrace and sighed in relief, he couldn't comprehend how he'd gone so long without the feeling of you in his arms. "please baby, you're like air to me and i know that i have hurt you and i won't ask you to forgive me but these past few days have been hell and i don't think I can survive something like that again" He whispered his truth and it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his chest.

He hated that he was always so afraid of his own feelings, hated that you were turning him into this emotional person that he was not. His words made you tighten your hold around his shoulders and you peeked up slightly to stare into his eyes. His eyes that were staring at you with so much adoration that you couldn't help the blush spreading across your cheeks.

He pecked your nose "let me inside your heart baby, I want to know what hurts you and makes you bleed, I want to swallow your pain if it's the last thing I do"

Your breathing had evened out from hearing him speak and you were suddenly coming to the realisation that he was asking you to give him a chance at loving you. Sunghoon wanted to love you. Your heart was beating rapidly across your chest at the possibility of your feelings being reciprocated and yet at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but question. Were you ready to let him in like that? would you be able to take it if he left you stranded again? You didn't know. But what you did know was that you were tired of running away.

"Okay" you whispered and his lips were immediately on yours, kissing you like his life depended on it, in a way it did. "Okay" He whispered back into your mouth and swallowed your whines, pressing you closer to himself, tasting you like he'd never given himself the liberty to.

There were so many things you wanted to ask him and so many feelings he wanted to express. But for now, okay was enough.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard hours #enha #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst

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m1d-45 · 10 months

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dead leaves

summary: the creator is meant to be worshipped and praised, exalted to the highest of high. so… what went wrong?

word count: 1.2k

-> warnings: mentions of blood, you die multiple times, bitter(?) ending, spoilers for xiao lore (but it’s not said to be xiao specifically so technically you could read and just not know it’s him but now that i’ve said that you know it’s him so-)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me

< masterlist > || next >

it wasn’t meant to happen like this.

it was never to occur at all, in fairness, but like this?

the clouds parted to make way for a single glitering star, shining a white hot gold. the whole world turned, stopped and stared in awe, every leaf on every stalk bearing witness to the one they called god.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. the golden shine poured through the tall windows of a palace meant for you, the heretic in a crown ordering your people to betray you. their hands shook where their followers could not see—perhaps even they were aware of why the trees were rejoicing.

you, blessed you, torn from your home by the divinity in your blood, picking yourself up from sand with barely a vague memory of your location. walk, climb, walk again, and that’s where you learned how to swim, led on by the crumbling stone of barbatos’ statue. the squirrels chittered and the hilichurls retreated, not wanting to frighten you, bandaged hands seeking shields and clubs to keep busy instead.

mondstat is the nation of anemo. happy and bustling, merchants calling across courtyards, adventurers waking with the sun to continue their trade. a cool breeze welcomed you, tugging you along a stone bridge, the winds quiet.

so quiet, in fact, that the archon stirred from his slumber early, reaching for his bow.

you never even made it to the city gates. the doves on the bridge hopped closer as you approached, the knights on duty watching how eagerly they pressed themselves against you. a nod, a twist, a chain of knights leading up to the headquarters, all set on edge the moment the acting grandmaster cleared them to engage.

the first casualty was a bird. it had flung itself into the air, halting the arrow in its tracks, drawing your attention to the man standing atop the city wall. another bird died before you understood his crime.

leaves dappled the ground in shades of green, warm light falling on you as you ran. you didn’t know where you were going, really, and why would you? who had a contingency plan for when everyone they loved turned away? the river tumbled over smoothed rocks, the bright beacon of the statue of the seven pleading for forgiveness even as it’s archon wanted you dead.

mondstat was the city of freedom. could it still be called that when you bled out before you could reach the border?

you couldn’t die. literally, you couldn’t. ley lines converged where you were crossed, absorbing the dissipating flakes of your physical body. the earth hummed beneath the anemo archon’s feet as he watched divine blue blood be sucked up and swept away. was it a hallucination? how would he know?

elemental energy coursed through the earth, sprouting again at the geo through which it bled, releasing the holy light it carried and supplementing with its own. within the hour your eyes opened again, unsure whether to pray it was a dream or wonder which god could hear you.

liyue, nation of geo. the stone hummed beneath your feet, though you didn’t walk toward the city. you’d learned your lesson fast, and a spear to the gut would certainly take longer to kill than an arrow to the neck. not that it mattered, of course—the adepti are too in tune with the land to not have noticed your arrival.

as it turned out a spear does hurt more, which you learned when you found it sprouting from your stomach in the split second before the pain hit. bright jade stained blue, betrayal glimpsed in the dying eyes of the one alatus once called his savior.

and it began anew.

teyvat bubbled with anger, torn between enacting vengeance on those that hurt its maker and protecting you. you were taken to places of shelter, but people learned to follow where nature raged loudest. even if they didn’t, if storms kicked up in false alarm to draw them away, intuition toward their creator was sewn into the hems of every living creature. hilichurls could only hold up for so long, and the millelith were used to dealing with vishaps. the dense forests of sumeru were memorized by the most vigilant forest watcher, the consecrated beasts in the desert too big to keep up with the agility of the general mahamatra.

how cruel for you to die like this, at the hands of the ones you should have been able to trust. how cruel for you to die at all, stabbed in the back by those who should have worshipped you.

the one on your throne was tolerated, just barely so, rationalized as the people needing an idol to follow in your continued absence. but now you were here, now they had no reason to be, and visions began to go haywire whenever they entered the throne room. boars outran hunters, trees tangling over boots as nature wrought vengeance on behalf of its god.

you were everything.

every scholar sought to understood your world further, your spirit found in every star in the sky. to study the world was to study you, how every string was woven into the universe. when you looked to the earth the soil said hello, the trees bowing before their creator, and yet your most beloved artwork was the one that hated you the most. was it hubristic to think a mortal could truly kill a god, or pathetic that they believed the fraud so quickly? they didn’t have elemental energy buzzing at their fingertips, they didn’t have the respect of the world, only commanding people, those easily swayed by a similar face and lucky coincidences. they were nothing like you, you who held galaxies in your blood, you who created the sky and the seas and the creatures within, who created everything. who was everything.

…and now you were nothing. lost in the ley lines that frantically searched for a place to host your body, outrunning the hunt for the god of all. nothing, half conscious in the heart of the earth, within a cave that had cracked open for this very purpose. hidden, the entrance sealed by stone itself, only allowing in slimes that helped sustain you. how cruel, the skies wept, torrents of rain falling in punishment. the fraud barely left the palace anymore, which was only standing thanks to reinforcement from the geo archon. were it not for their lie, they would be dead a thousand times over, killed in every way you had.

but they were in the palace, hidden where the world could not reach. so stone cradled your body, carefully ensuring you still continued to breathe, leylines redirecting to offer energy. not awake, not asleep, stuck in a stasis while hell raged around you.

it’s alright. teyvat would have its revenge eventually. lightning would find its way into the palace, someone would bring something carrying elemental energy into the throne room, something. the fake would die and you would be born anew from the earth, weak and tired but alive, most importantly.

anemo brushes off dust that begins to settle in your clothes, hydro doing its best to soothe the cracks on your lips. geo rolls you over so you don’t bruise, dendro adjusting its net of vines to keep you stable.

eventually…

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harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

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Alone Part 2 (Alternative Ending)

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Reader finally finds someone who cares for her but at what cost...

Warnings: Minor Mention of self harm

A/N: Surprise😏

Masterlist Part 1

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It has been three days since your last mission, the very mission that got you hurt and made you realize just how fucked your head is. Three days since you left the fight that left you with a big tear at your waist which will most definitely leave a scar.

It's half healed already, so is the cut you gave yourself but you didn't realize how deep you hurt yourself because it's left a thin white line that's fully healed but can be easily recognized.

You shift on your feet from where you're standing beside the rest of inner circle. You are at the high lords meeting, accompanying your High Lord and High Lady.

You keep moving your weight from one foot to another because the pressure keeps causing pain in your waist. You can't wait for this to be over.

When you get a chance to leave you take it, running of the the nearest restroom you can find. You take off your fight leathers to find out you bled through your bandaid. You rub your hands over your head trying to think of a way you can hide your injury from everyone.

"Well, what do we have here." A voice fills the room, one that you know oh so well. He always does this, annoy you or talk to you every chance he gets. You don't know why but you put up with him everytime too. You practically hear the smirk in his words as you complaint to the Mother for putting you in this situation right now.

"Go away, Eris." You hope for him to take the hint and leave you alone but you, too, know that it's too late considering you can clearly smell you blood in the room, and so can he.

He crosses the room in just a few strides and puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around with surprising gentleness. He sees the blood on you shirt that's seeped out of your bandaid and intakes a sharp breath.

"Left up your shirt." You are taken a back at his order. Mouth opened agaped as you see anger swirling in his amber eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Y/N, If you don't lift your shirt up in the next minute, I'm going to rip it off of you." He practically growls. Your eyes widen and he raises his eyebrows, daring you to question him.

After a minute of silence, he raises his hands to your shirt and you take a step back,"Alright! I'll do it!" His eyes narrow and you sigh, lifting you shirt for his to see the scarlet bandage.

"Who did this to you?" His hands clench into fists.

"No one. It's nothing." You sigh.

"Was it an enemy?" You shake your head. "Who was it?" You shut your mouth and look away. Eris' eyes widen in realisation. "Was it them?" He spits in anger. You look back at him and your lack of answer in enough for him.

"I'm going to kill them." His body radiates pury fury as he steps away from you and starts walking towards the bathroom door.

"Eris!" You run to step in front of him, blocking the door and putting your hands against his chest, gasping because of the movement causing sudden pain to your waist. Eris immediately wraps an arm around you waist and searches you for any other cause of pain.

"Are you crazy?" You exclaimed.

"No. I'm fucking angry that the people who are your apparent family, who are supposed to protect you, hurt you. And I intent on hurting them just as much."

"Eris, you're going to start a war! And that's not even the point. They didn't hurt me alright, at least not physically. I went on a mission a few days ago and got hurt, they had nothing to do with it. They don't even know I'm hurt, for gods' sake." But that doesn't seem to calm him.

"What do you mean they didn't hurt you physically? And how the hell do they not know you've been hurt since days?" It seems like his rage just amplifies.

"I just didn't tell them alright?"

"They should've checked you for injuries the second you came back from the mission and they didnt care enough to do that. And what kind mission leaves your entire waist fucking open?!" He puts a hand behind your neck.

"Why are you acting like this? Why do you care if they care?" You don't notice you close proximity because you are so shocked from the way he's reacting.

"Because I care about you!" You intake a sharp breath. "What?"

"I care. I care for you. I always have." He looks into your eyes with so much honesty that it leaves you speechless.

"I care for you so deeply. I always have, and I thought you would figure that out yourself because of the way I talk to you. Why do you think I only talk to you. Why take every chance I can have to hear to speak to me, to hear your voice, doesn't matter if you're bitter.

I take every chance I can get to have your attention because I care for you. I do not know why, but I do and im not ashamed of it. I know you don't care for me the same way but I don't care, I'll take every second of your time that you'll give me."

What are you hearing? Someone truly cares for you? This isn't true. It must be a joke. It has to be. This is no way that Eris Vanserra cares for you. He cares for no one. Everybody know that.

So then why are you believing him, believing his words, clinging to them for dear life. If this truly is a prank, if what he is saying wasnt true, you don't think you'll survive. You won't survive another Heartbreak. But something tells you that he isn't lying, that he is telling the truth, that he truly, genuinely cares for you. Something deep in your heart tells you that he might truly love you.

You gasp when you feel it. Feel everything click into place. Feel the second everything in you life finally makes sense.

"You feel it now, don't you?" His voice soft as a tug feels on your heart. Your breath heavy as you look at him in the eyes, feeling the thin golden string connecting your souls to one another.

"So leave them." He pleads.

"Why are you doing this, my love? Who are you doing this for? They don't care about you." His hand on your cheek, swiping back and forth softly while the other hugs your waist, pushing you flush against him. "I do. I care about you so much and I refuse to see you hurt yourself for people who don't value your existence." He puts his forehead to yours.

"Leave them, come with me to Autum Court and I will treat you like the queen you are. And even if you don't want to come with me it's alright, just leave them. Please." His voice cracks with your heart, taking a piece of it with him daring not to return. You don't want him to.

"Okay. I'll come with you." Tears fall down your face as his breaks into a smile. "Really?" His voice unsure.

"Yeah, I'll leave Valaris, leave them. I'll come with you." You smile genuinely after a long time and he sighs in relief.

His lips slam to yours and you both lose yourselves in the kiss. You smile into his lips, finally happy to have found someone who cares for you enough to threaten to go into war for you.

You finally found your person and you will never let him go.

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar fluff #acotar angst #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x you #eris fanfic #eris angst #eris fluff

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shadesoflsk · 5 months

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LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF

pairing: vendetta!leon x fem!reader.

summary: Leon and you have been divorced for a year now. It’s been one hell of a year between his missions and his new lover: alcohol. He thinks he’s doing just fine, after all you’re the one who’s missing out — or so he thinks. It’s until he has fallen ill that he realizes how lonely he is.

warnings: Kinda angsty, arguments, hurt/comfort, Leon is a bit mean but he gets better, mentions of being sick, vomiting wounds, scars, implied happy ending.

word count: 4k (dear god)

Ragged breaths filled Leon’s dark room as he gasped for air. It all started with a simple headache which he ignored since it was just that, a headache. It wasn’t supposed to develop into something more because he is Leon S. Kennedy he just can’t fall ill. However, the way he stumbled into a wall was a sign of how sick he actually was.

He cursed the wall, as if it was the one who got into Leon’s way. He felt weak, physically and emotionally. Physically because the pain he was feeling was almost unbearable. Besides the scars that adorned his back and abdomen he felt as if his insides were being split open — he blamed himself — not his missions, not the alcohol. He’s being weak, he’s being a crying baby, he’s being everything he despises in someone.

And emotionally because he feels like shit. The alcohol has taken a toll on him. Before the divorce he used to drink now and then. Just on special occasions when his darling and him would go on dates. He loved wine — it made him feel so fancy and classy. He used to be like that. Now he’s just the shell of a man. But he doesn’t blame himself for that, he blames you.

He knew he was being irrational, you did nothing but support him on every step he made. After both of you said “I do” you promised you would go through hell just to make him happy, you promised you would stick with him in good and bad, in sickness and in health. But no one prepared you for the time where he would push you away. You cried, begged and pleaded. You knew Leon had an habit of pushing away people he loved — but you were his wife, the woman he promised to love until the day where his blonde hair turned into a white color, where his stride would be replaced by a limping and unsteady walk proof of the years he has on his back. Yet, after 3 years he decided he had enough.

“Enough of what?” You bawled with tears filling your eyes as Leon decided to turn on his back and avoid eye contact with you. You clenched your fists — you were never the violent type yet you wanted to hit a wall by the way Leon was throwing away 3 years of marriage. But no matter how much you tried, your question was responded with a dead silence.

Why was Leon remembering all of this? Simple: because he realized how fucking lonely he was. Back when the two of you were married he used to pretend he was fine. “Baby, you have been coughing since morning.” you often said as you noticed how red Leon was from holding another cough. With a giggle, you would press your hand against his forehead. “A fever,” you added with a worried tone in your voice. Leon only scoffed, waving his hand in a dismissively way as if you were being dramatic. Yet, he never refused your treatments. For a few days you pampered your husband in a way only he knew. You dragged him to bed, made him swallow the pills he hated because they tasted funny. But you also were a nurturing lover — laying on bed next to him even when he protested that you were going to get sick too. “That just means you will have to take care of me,” you retorted with a warm laugh spooning him the way he loves it. Yes, the big and scary man loved being the smaller spoon.

With shaky hands he reached his cellphone. He knew it was a mistake on his part. He was breaking the promise he made to himself. He felt stupid, no, he was stupid. Pushing away the person he loved the most just for the “sake” of protecting you? Yeah, he was. But he wasn’t perfect, God how he wanted to feel like that yet he was flawed, weak and helpless without his rock, without his sunshine. But moreover, he felt selfish. After a year of being away and not even contacting you and suddenly wishing to hear your voice but to specially, see you. But if he was going to be selfish, he was going to be the most selfish person you’ve ever known.

Nonetheless, when he squinted his eyes in order to see the screen of his cellphone, he hesitated for a moment. As the light illuminated his features, bloodshot eyes, dark eyebags and dried tears around his cheeks he wondered what the hell he was going to say to you. “Hey this is your husb- no sorry your ex husband,” he couldn't say that for the love of God!

By the time he gathered the courage to type your phone number, his head was almost exploding with pain. He pressed the call button as his forehead met with the cold countertop. Seeking something cold enough to cool down his increasing fever.

The first few seconds were the most anxious moments he has experienced. He was being dramatic, of course. But the thought of hearing your voice, of hearing that sweet and tender melody of yours which made him melt almost instantly. He blamed the fever, of course. He's just calling because he needs help, nothing more.

“Hello?” You said through the other line, voice full of drowsiness and sleepiness since Leon didn't even notice what time it was when he called. He almost drops his phone when he hears your response — what is he supposed to say? As he's deep in thought, unaware of the fact that he has left you without a reply you spoke again “Hey listen. If you're drunk don't call me I don't want t–”

“I'm not drunk…” Leon responded with a groan as another throbbing pain stabbed his head. He sounded similar as to when he's drunk, that he won't deny.

“I don't believe that for a second.” Your voice was laced with exhaustion but now it wasn't due to the lack of sleep, it was because of him. No matter how much you try to forget him it seems that he comes back when you're getting better, when you think you're already getting over him.

It was pathetic, really. You didn't believe in soulmates yet you found yourself thinking if both of you were some kind of star crossed lovers. Right person wrong time type of relationship. But you reminded yourself that real life doesn't work like that. Some people just aren't lucky.

“I'm telling you the damn truth!” Leon's voice echoed through his empty living room leaving him speechless by the sudden outburst. He dug his fingernails into his palm as if distracting himself from the pain in his body and the fact that he just fucking screamed at his ex wife. He was met with dead silence and for a moment he thought he blew up the only opportunity he had to talk to you, but he could hear you, the faintest sound of your breathing made him aware that you haven't hung up. At least not yet.

“Look… I'm sorry.” His voice switched up from his sharp tone to a gentler and softer one. He was ashamed of himself but right now he wasn't in the right state of mind. His speech was slurred, proof of how bad the fever was affecting his body. “I–I'm not feeling well… physically well.” Leon's words stumbled into one another as he was explaining his situation.

And that simple sentence was everything you needed to hear. Leon wouldn't just call you to tell you he's sick. You know him more than everyone else, you know him more than he knows himself. If only your inner voice could stop ringing alarms in your head; the rational part of yourself told you that you shouldn't go. He was your ex husband for a reason. He has all the money in the world to hire a highly-qualified nurse. But no nurse knows him like you do, at least that's what the emotional part of yourself keeps telling you.

Besides the droplets falling against the windows, the ride to Leon's apartment was silent. The guilty feeling overwhelmed you as you made sure not to break any traffic law in your little trip. It took you barely a second to get your car keys as soon as you heard Leon throwing up in the middle of the phone call. A slurred waterfall of sorry sorry sorry were the last things you heard as you hopped on your car.

The ride was easy, knocking on his door was the real war here. It took you fifteen minutes to drive there and now you're having second thoughts. “Fucking hell…” you mutter under your breath as your fist knocks against the wooden door. You knock twice, as you usually did when you came back from work. When someone welcomed you with a big smile on his face. A minute passed and you got no response. You almost turned on your heel when the door suddenly opened. The scene developing in front of you made your heart ache.

There he was – the man who once was the most important person in your life. Your missing piece, your other half. But now he was merely a percentage of what he used to be. His once smooth face was replaced by rough features that seemed only to show more as a growing stubble adorned his face. His once blond hair was now a dark shade of brown – you knew he hasn't had the best year of his life but Jesus he looks awful. Yet you can't help but feel how you still feel so much love for this same man.

For Leon, this is another story. His dizziness only seems to get worse by the second as he tries his best to keep balance. His eyes traveled from your eyes to your legs – not in a sexual way but as if trying to see if you had changed. But you haven't. And how dare you? Why haven't you changed? Leon's world has turned upside down since the divorce and you're here, looking like your old self. Again, he was being irrational and stupid.

“Hey…” you gathered to say with an unsure voice. No one prepares you to face your ex husband. Especially when the simple sight of him makes you feel both like shit and in love. Loving him was like that.

“You…” his raspy voice came out as a groan as his eyes remained locked on yours. You remember his baby blue eyes – full of love when he kept praising you. for the tiniest things. Now they're slightly hollow and with lack of life. “Please, come in.” Leon widens the door, gesturing for you to enter. It all felt so foreign, the last time you were alone with him was so different from this.

“Now do me a favor and shut up please! Your damn voice irritates me.” you remember how his voice had no traces of love and tenderness. He spat venom right in front of you, no matter how much your face contorted into a crying expression. You always took pride in standing up for yourself and being a fairly independent woman who takes no shit from anyone. However, your values seemed to crash as soon as the fights started. It all began with Leon drinking more and more. And as his addictions started, so did his insults.

You tried fixing him, really. A savior complex you may say. Nonetheless, loving him was never enough. And eventually, Leon made you a bitter person too. That was expected, really. You can't bend a branch without snapping it in half.

Now, your plans for the night didn't include taking care of a sick Leon. As soon as you entered his apartment, he basically stumbled on his feet. You were quick to catch him – almost falling to the floor because no matter how rough he looked he was still 80% muscles.

“Sorry…” he whispers as he tries to lean on your shoulder for support. As soon as his forehead touches your skin, you wince in discomfort.

“Leon, you're burning.” you state the obvious as you manage to make him sit on the couch. Your first thought was bringing him to bed but it would be difficult since your ex husband can't even stand up correctly. “How long have you felt like this?”

Leon groans in pain as he tries to remember. Everything is foggy but in his slurred speech, he answers you. “This morning… just a headache and then…this.”

You sighed, not sure about what to do. You glanced at Leon who sprawled on the couch. Sweat beads fell from his forehead until they stopped on the junction of his neck and shoulder. You see something metallic shimmering in the dim light – you pay no mind for now.

“I'm going to damp a towel… you stay here,” you explained before excusing yourself and walked to the bathroom. There, the emotions came like a waterfall. Gripping the sink with your hands, tears fall from your face as soon as you are alone. You weren't strong enough for this, you weren't built for this. He used to call you sunshine because you were like the warmest sunlights bathing him. But he broke you until you were merely a cloudy and moody day.

You remember every little thing, every memory and every wish that you shared with Leon. Your mind was playing dirty tricks on you – your worst enemy being yourself. You often wondered what life had in storage for you, as simple as it sounded you longed for simplicity, Leon did too. Wedding rings echoed through your foggy mind as it drifted back to the moment you first saw him standing at the altar.

Neither of you were religious people, yet you decided to do a more symbolic type of wedding. You remember saying your vows and him saying his – he didn't keep his promises, though. As soon as his oh so called sins started to weigh heavily on his mind, he decided to take it all on you.

“I don't know why I married you.” “You're so naive, you don't even know what the hell is happening outside of these four walls. Don't you?” Those phrases kept repeating in your consciousness as you damp the towel, quiet sobs escaping your lips as you tried your best to be silent.

Eventually, you stepped out of the bathroom. Holding a damp towel with a bowl of water. Eyes locked on the floor to see anything but the sight of your ex husband quietly snoring and mumbling nonsenses. The fever was so high his body ultimately collapsed.

You sat down next to him, brushing away some of his hair that was covering his sticky forehead. He looked peaceful, safely passed out in his dreams. You knew he was safe even though he was burning to the touch. Because as long as you're here, you will look after him. No matter how much he broke you.

You place the damp fabric over his forehead – a sigh of relief left his lips even when he was unconscious or so you thought. The dark filled room brought some sense of comfort to the both of you. Your hand on the fabric attempted to leave its place as Leon remained still yet as soon as you pulled your hand away, a weak but decisive grip caught your wrist.

Your eyes widen when you notice Leon grabbing your wrist oh so delicately. His breath was still ragged, proof of how much his weakened state has affected him. You wanted to break away from his grip, to pull away from him and tell him not to touch. You really wanted to. But did you do it? No. Instead, you decided to let him be. He’s had his fair share of battles throughout his life. His to carry and his to blame and to be blamed. You weren’t going to take away a simple touch.

“Sorry…” He mumbles, his eyes trying his hardest to open yet he was still met with darkness surrounding him. The effect of medicine and booze was a cocktail and perfect recipe for almost killing him. But as he seeks forgiveness, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something else behind that word.

Was he saying sorry for suddenly grabbing your wrist as a puppy who doesn’t want his owner to leave him? Or was it for everything they had to go through? You don’t know and you don’t even want to know. Because if it’s the latter, you can’t know for certain if you’ll be strong enough to not crumble.

“It’s okay.” you responded back, an empty attempt at reassuring him. He was no fool, he was stupid for many things he has done. But he wasn’t so self absorbed as to not notice how nothing was okay.

“No, It’s not okay…” Leon grumbled. “Look I’m really sorry for–”

“For what, Leon?” You finally snapped, voice nearly breaking at the sight of Leon apologizing. “For leaving me alone without answers and wondering what the hell I did wrong?” Previous emotions dawned upon you as your lips trembled. At least the darkness will hide your tears.

“For making me feel as if I was a failure in the relationship? For making me feel dumb since I couldn’t understand what you were going through? Guess what, Leon. You were right, I didn’t since you never told me shit!” He remained silent through your outburst which wasn’t really one. In his eyes, you were right – as much as he tried to keep blaming you, he couldn’t. As much as he tried thinking that he was the one who was better without you, reality came back and hit him like a truck. He wasn’t. He was miserable without his sunshine, without the person he trusted the most, without the wife he chose to spend the rest of his life with and promised to give her the life both of them wanted.

“Yes.” Leon stated, it seems that his previous weakened state faded away as your rambling continued. “Yes, for all the shit and fucked up things I made you go through. You never deserved it. You never deserved the way I treated you…” Leon’s eyes, as much to his own dismay, start to water. “You didn’t deserve throwing away 3 years of your life marrying a failure of a man such as myself –.”

You didn't add anything else for the time being. Ironically enough, your hand stayed glued to the damp towel the whole time they argued.

“Why…?” you asked the million dollar question. Why did Leon leave you? Why did you have to divorce? You could have faced everything, you had all the love in the world, as pathetic as it sounds.

“Because I was fucking scared.” Leon exhales, his lips trembling a bit from his own fever. He closes his eyes trying to drown in the cool and refreshing sensation the wet fabric provided. “I–I lost so many people throughout my life… And I know that isn't an excuse but it can help you to – to understand my shitty behavior.”

Leon's necklace once again shimmered with the weak source of light that his living room had. He had his head thrown back, relying on your treatments to feel better. To feel something.

“I knew… that I could live without you knowing that you were alive. But I couldn't even fathom the idea of living without you because you died.” Leon finally let go of his own inhibitions and ego. And he sobbed like a baby. His whole body hurt like hell but his mind was aching even more with past memories of him pushing you away.

Leon's face reflected everything he had to go through. Since that gruesome night of September until his whole unit dying in front of him. The internal battles he had to face all by himself because he indeed pushed away the only person who would sit down and comfort him after a difficult mission.

“There isn't a day that goes by where I don't miss you. I miss your morning face. I miss the way you would always ask me if I wanted dinner. I miss the way you looked at me as if I was the only man you could ever love.”

Leon was going to continue talking, but a coughing fit came into him as he tried his best to hold it back – he turned red, as he used to do back then when they were married. It brought you a soft smile seeing him trying not to interrupt his speech.

As Leon kept on denying himself to take a breath since it would lead to more cough coming out. Unconsciously you brought your free hand to his cheek. Your thumb grazing over one specific scar that he got ages ago.

“Let's go to sleep, Leon.” you whisper as Leon finally exhaled. His own fatigue betrays his own desires to continue talking. He had so many things to say, so many sorrys to ask. So many kisses to give. Nonetheless, he silently curses his eyes as they close on their own.

Forgiveness doesn't come easily, especially after a year of grief and pain. You can't expect a kiss to make it all better but you can try. Both of you could see the light in this dark situation and let it shine upon you.

Morning comes and neither of you know how you ended up cuddling one another. That's a lie, though. You know that as soon as Leon's words came out of lips, his drowsiness did too. Heavy eyelids followed by yawns were proof of how much comfort he was feeling at the moment and he found a perfect excuse to be clingy. He was sick, after all. He could blame it on that.

You were the first one to wake up. Back's aching as hell while you groan in slight discomfort. But as soon as you try moving, a heavy weight on you stops you from doing anything else. Leon's whole body was on top of you. Sucking the air out of your lungs as his strong arms keep you trapped in his warm embrace.

You ponder between the options, dying between his arms while he keeps hugging you like his life depends on it or wake him up and tell him to move. The first one doesn't sound so bad.

However, life has other plans for you as Leon starts waking up. Groggy and disoriented, his eyes flutter open taking in his surroundings. That's when he sees you, practically under his weight as he uses you like a teddy bear.

Leon's head slightly rose from the comfort he had found against your neck. His bloodshot eyes have turned back into his usual baby blue ones.

“Morning…” you greeted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if neither of you have slept together like a married couple. There are many things unsaid and they definitely needed to talk. But it can wait. For now, they just want to be in their little makeshift nest.

“Feeling better?” you asked with the softest of the smiles. Your hand pressed against his growing stubble. It traveled down to his neck as something metallic brushes your finger. With a soft tug, you discovered his own wedding band dangling from a silver chain.

And you knew from that moment that your heart would always long for him.

“Never been better.” There he goes again, a glimpse of the Leon you've always known. A smug and flirty smile yet full of undivided love. You knew it wouldn't be easy. It won't be easy.

But the way Leon smiles at you and by the way his lips seem to move on their own accord, make you want to try. It pushes you to help him again. Not changing him because as much as it hurts you – his pain is something he can't just let go. It's part of his identity. But he's the most stubborn man you've ever known. From his ashes, he would grow to be the best agent, the partner and the best husband the world has known. A second chance in life.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil #i can fix him #reader insert

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fairyhaos · 11 months

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how seventeen deal with your period cramps

requested by anon: "Would it be ok for you to write : How would Seventeen react and help with bad period cramps ? (I am currently on my period and its killing me... I can barely stay up, cramps are hurting as hell, I have nausea, hell I feel the worst...)"

notes: tw for menstruation pain, reader therefore has a uterus

masterlist

seungcheol:

tbh he's kinda a little bit Clueless, but he tries his best. cannot fathom the amount of pain you're in, but he does his research and immediately jumps up to boil water for a hot water bottle the second you tell him you're on your period. is confused by the idea of pre-menstrual syndrome n thinks that it's very unfair: bc you can be in pain???? even before the actual menstruation itself???? that sounds terrible :((( always has his arms open for a hug

jeonghan:

spots its arrival better than you. can tell when your period is coming like some sort of seer. has a cupboard full of chocolates and snacks which he stocks up constantly and allows you to take your pick of whatever you feel like having when you're on your period. insists that you don't have to do anything while you're going through the worst of your cramps, tells you to just lie down w the hot water bottle he made for you n he'll do whatever you need okay?

joshua:

you Need to tell this man whenever your period starts bc otherwise he'll get upset that his calendar is all messed up :(( i firmly believe shua is the typa guy to keep track of your schedules for you, even if your cycle isn't regular. does Everything you want. you wanna eat a whole tub of Celebrations? he's rooting for you. need to cry bc the world is just too frustrating? tell him what movie you wanna cry to, he'll stream it illegally if that's what it takes. will probably also end up crying w you, but hey, we love a supportive guy <3

junhui:

curses the menstruation gods every time you tell him you're having cramps again. is essentially trying to stuff you full of painkillers the entire day bc he hates the idea of you being in pain </3 wanted to buy one of those period cramp simulator machines to see how bad it was for you, ended up chickening out when you told him vv seriously that it was like being thrown into the pits of hell. isn't allowed near the kettle to boil water for you (due to previous Mishaps), so he'll give you a pillow to put over your stomach and hug you in his arms for warmth

hoshi:

is confused for all of two seconds every time you tell him you're having rlly bad cramps (again?? didn't you have them last month??) before it clicks in his head. coos and baby-talks to you, offering his shoulder for you to sleep on if the physical contact will help. builds you a pillow fort to get comfortable in practically every single time. you had a really bad headache one month, and so now he's constantly talking in a hoarse whisper when your cramps are bad

wonwoo:

he's not Entirely sure what to do, but he does know that period pain can often manifest itself in mood swings, so he's always extra caring and considerate around your time of the month. will Let himself be yelled at if you do end up getting frustrated, then will hug you and pat your hair to help you calm down after. makes hot water for all the hot water bottles that you're ever gonna need.

woozi:

makes sure you take your painkillers on time, and also makes sure you eat. he's heard from his mom that loss of appetite can happen often during periods, especially when cramps are bad, and so he encourages you to eat foods with lots of magnesium and nitrates in it. will hug you if the cramps are really bad and you're practically crawling to him in tears. will probably hug you even if you're only pouting and talking in a sad voice tho, tbh.

minghao:

he researched that milk chocolate and white chocolate increase cramps pain, and so now he only ever gives you dark chocolate that's 60% cacao and above. has encouraged you to take up meditation when you're not on your period, saying it'll help strengthen you. you're still not entirely sure it's working, but then again, it's better to try than not. swaddles you in fluffy blankets and cushions bc seungcheol stole the hot water bottle to help with his indigestion or something

mingyu:

he's a lil confused, but he means well. carries you bridal-style everywhere you wanna go. searched up the types of foods best to eat to help with period cramps, and cooks food with lots and lots of spinach in it. regardless of whether you like it or not, because it's good for you and makes you feel better. spoon-feeds you the soup he makes, asks if it's making you feel warm inside with his adorable bright eyes

dokyeom:

has a little corner in the bottom of his wardrobe full of sanitary pad packages, bc one time he panicked when you asked him to buy you some and practically cleared the whole shelf of them. also has like 3 boxes of chocolates stacked on top of them bc of that same time where he panicked and ended up buying too many. as a result, always has supplies whenever you need them. is a little clueless too, but he's willing to help w lots of hugs and warmth!!

seungkwan:

Knows your menstruation cycle for you. frets if you're a few of days early or a few of days late. if you have an irregular cycle, then oh god he's analysing everything to see if there's any sort of pattern. ngl he's a little nervous of you when you're on your period, but he's always ready to open his arms for you to draw you in for a hug if you need. starts crying if you end up crying bc of the pain/ mood swings, bc he's an empath okay n he feels your pain so bad

vernon:

i get the feeling he's like. the hidden pro at dealing with cramps. you tell him that you're hurting, and he's already boiled the kettle to make you a hot water bottle, arms laden with snacks and blankets and do you wanna come into his room to relax and watch the new movie he's fixated on or do you wanna just go to your room by yourself and sleep? big encourager of sleeping through cramps, bc he swears it helps so much and actually. he is so right it really does

chan:

went through like five different brands of paracetamol with you during your previous cramps to see which one was the best n lasted the longest. steals the expensive chocolates from mingyu's stash bc really, the guy has far too much and it's more deserving to go to you when you're in pain and also pls share w him as a thankyou for getting them for you. offers to run you a bubble bath to help you relax, often forgets about the bath while he's doing other stuff and almost makes it overflow

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charmandabear · 5 months

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Ascendn't

Summary

I got mad when the game wouldn't let me hug him after the Cazador fight. So I fixed it. Plus a bit more steaminess in the graveyard scene. (Also, yes, I'm insufferable about this title.)

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Tav Rating: M Word Count: 4.5k Tags/Warnings: post-Cazador fight, Act 3 spoilers, blood kink, biting, hurt/comfort, fluff and angst, soft dom Astarion, enthusiastic consent

It's been a good 10 years since I've written fanfiction and probably about 20 since I've published any online. This boy got me down BAD. I made an AO3 account for this fucker. (Which you can find here.)

“I can do this, but I need your help.”

You’ve never heard him plead like this. He’s usually so cool and confident. He doesn’t need anyone if he can help it. But this is different. Standing over Cazador, dagger in hand, fear and desperation in his eyes.

“I’ll be free - truly, completely free. Isn’t that what you want?”

He knows how to make your heart melt and break all at the same time. Gods, yes, of course that’s what you want, more than anything in the world. For him to be free to live the life that he never got to have, the life that Cazador stole away from him. He was so young when he got turned. And if he doesn’t take this chance, then as soon as you manage to get these damned tadpoles out of your head he’ll be relegated to the shadows once again. You can’t do that to him.

But this isn’t it. This won’t give him the freedom he so desperately craves, no, deserves. It’s just another form of chains. You take a shaky breath and prepare yourself for his disapproving glare.

“I know you think this will set you free, but it won’t. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador.”

Astarion’s face goes slack, the recognition of the cycle of abuse suddenly clear. His eyes on you soften as he murmurs, “You– you’re right. I can be better than him.” He turns a steely gaze back to Cazador.

“But I’m not above enjoying this.”

With a ferocity that you haven’t yet seen in Astarion, he yanks Cazador’s head back and starts viciously stabbing into his neck. Two hundred years of pent up fury and revenge release in a matter of moments. At a certain point, he’s not even stabbing the man, but rather the idea of Cazador and everything he represents.

Eventually he slows and drops Cazador’s limp body to the ground. The dagger falls with a clatter, and Astarion takes a step back. His eyes finally come back into focus and he realizes that it’s over. Really, truly, over. He’s finally free.

His face is awash with an overwhelm of emotions that you can’t identify. He’s panting, first from the physical exertion and then the sobs that wrack his body. He lets out a howling cry filled with pain and suffering and relief and anguish and he falls to his knees, shoulders shaking. Up until this point, you and the rest of your party have been frozen to the spot as you watched Astarion claim his revenge. But something in you breaks free and you rush to his side. Where you need to be. Where you belong.

You grab him tight in your arms and curl into his neck, your own tears mixing with the blood and grime on his bare shoulder. You think with an almost sardonic humor how often your positions have been reversed. Whereas when he leaned into your neck it was often with hunger, or lust, or even just a flirty playfulness, now all you could bring is a shared pain and comfort. You plant a tender kiss just below his ear and he looks at you with tearful eyes, an unidentifiable question present. You wrap your hand around the base of his neck, fingers raking through bloodstained silver curls. Pressing your foreheads together, you sync up your breaths with his, trying to slow them back to an even rhythm. Gods, you love this man so much.

You finally dare to break the silence, whispering, “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” He lets out a weary chuckle and nods. You take one more look into those wet crimson eyes, bloodshot and tired, and smear some of Cazador’s blood left on his cheek in an attempt to wipe away his tears. He takes your hand and kisses your fingertips gently. You suddenly become aware that the other six spawn have been released from their soul-draining chains and are approaching, just as tired and sweaty as the rest of you. The two of you slowly get up to your feet, each helping the other in the process.

“Is… is it over? Is he…?” The woman you vaguely recall meeting in the flophouse in Wyrm’s Crossing, Dalyria, cautiously peers at Cazador’s body. Astarion lets out one final sigh, his breathing finally returning to normal.

“Yes. He’s gone.” He sounds like he can hardly believe it himself. As though saying the words aloud might somehow break a spell and make them untrue.

“What does that mean for us?” Petras, you think, comes up behind Dal. You do remember meeting him, feeling like he was like a knockoff version of Astarion. Trying all the same moves with half of the charm. You feel bad, now, about that judgemental assessment. He looks like such a lost little boy.

“It means you have a choice,” he says with exasperation. Sibling bonds, even when forged in fire, never die. “You can hide here, living in the shadows, like parasites.” His voice is filled with venom. “Or you can be more than what he made us to be. You can choose differently, of course. But the consequences are on your head.”

“What does it mean for them?” Dal asks, and Astarion falters slightly.

“Ah. Now that is a question…” You can tell he had been trying not to think about the seven thousand vampire spawn locked up in the dungeons. He was trying to get Sebastian out of his mind since their conversation. You don’t blame him, honestly. Astarion may have been forced to do Cazador’s bidding, but that doesn’t make the fallout from that any less reprehensible. Worse even that he was good at it.

Astarion had taken a step away from you to talk to his siblings, and you can see him beginning to spiral. You close the distance again and lay a hand on his shoulder. You can feel him start under your touch.

“Let’s release them,” you offer quietly. “They deserve the same chance you got.” You have no idea who Astarion would be right now if he hadn’t gotten kidnapped by the Illithid. If he hadn’t been on this journey, seen everything he had seen. Met you. Honestly, you don’t know who you’d even be if you hadn’t met him either. The thought alone makes you run cold.

“You’re right,” he breathes barely above a whisper. “The poor wretches in the cells are innocent. They shouldn’t have to suffer just because I-” his voice catches in his throat and you see him shake off a dark thought, “lured them here.” He reaches down to pick up Cazador’s staff - Woe, you think it’s called - with a hand still stained reddish black with the vampire’s blood. He looks at it for a moment, considering it carefully, and everything this staff had ever meant. Then he slams it on the ground, red waves of energy emanating from it, using its power to unlock every single one of the cells in the dungeon.

“They’ll need someone to lead them. Take the tunnels into the Underdark. Find somewhere… well, not safe, but less perilous.” Petras eyes light up with fear.

“What? No, we can’t-” he begins desperately, but Astarion cuts him off with a hand.

“Just try to keep them out of trouble.” The exasperated tone is back. How often had he needed to manage Petras’ emotions as much as his own? You vaguely wonder if Petras looked to Astarion as a role model. The other six spawn walk off slowly, exhausted but clearly relieved to be starting anew.

You turn to Astarion, who has just finished redonning his armor that Cazador had stripped him of. His gaze is glassy; you’ve seen this look before, sometimes even when you’re in bed together. He might as well be a million miles away. You gently touch his arm to bring him back to you. He jumps slightly, then a wan smile touches his lips, but not his eyes.

“That’s it. He’s gone. After all these years – these centuries – it’s really over.” He shuffles his feet, antsy and tired at the same time. You hesitate a moment, unsure of the best way to respond, but you finally settle on, “I’m proud of you. You did the right thing.” His smile isn’t free of bitterness.

“I’m glad you think so, because I’m not so sure.” His eyes flick up back to you, but that glassy look has returned. “I just feel numb. What I’ve lost, what I’ve gained – it’s all so much. And gods, all those spawn, free in the Underdark. I need some time, I think. Just to let it all sink in.” You reach out to touch his face comfortingly. Your heart sinks as he gently pushes your hand away, but it settles when he doesn’t let go of it.

“Let’s just go. This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again.” He gives your fingers a small squeeze and then walks off ahead of your party, making his way down the long corridor into Cazador’s dungeon. Well, not Cazador’s anymore. You briefly wonder what’s going to happen to this place.

At the end of the hallway, you see the Gur standing there, too late to be even remotely useful. You struggle to keep a scowl off your face. You hate how they treated Astarion in your last encounter. You could be sympathetic of their pain, of course; they’ve lost so much to Astarion’s actions. But the fact that they offered no sympathy for him back, the fact that they could barely acknowledge that he was a victim himself? Absolutely despicable.

Ulma stands at the head of the group, and her scowl matches yours. “You killed one vampire, but released seven thousand of his spawn? Have you lost all sense?”

“They were innocents. To kill them would have been an even greater crime.” Astarion couldn’t possibly sound more tired. You don’t blame him, these are the last people he wants to defend himself against right now.

“Some of those innocents are your fucking kids,” you grumble under your breath, hopefully not enough for Ulma to hear, but just enough for Astarion’s benefit. It’s clear that she couldn’t when she retorts, “And our children? What of their fate?”

“Cazador turned everyone we brought him into spawn. I can only assume your children are somewhere in those wretched cells. You’ll find them in the Underdark, although you may not like what you find.” The grief is plain in Ulma’s face, as well as the rest of the Gur. You feel a little more sympathy for them, but still no warmth.

“This is…” Ulma searches for the right word to capture the enormity of the situation, “difficult news.” She probably could’ve done better. “We will need to decide what this means.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “Thank you for what you have done – slaying Cazador was a great justice. As for the rest… well, time will tell.” Astarion nods curtly, and you’re relieved to be able to push past them and leave.

You and your party finally trudge back to Elfsong Tavern to rest. The rest of your companions are eager to gossip about the day’s events, everyone having something to say. You shield Astarion from their nosiness and distract them while he bathes in the tub in the corner, washing away more than just the physical dirt.

Later that evening as everyone else is beginning to tuck into bed, Astarion comes to you, finally ready to talk again. You can smell his signature fragrance, an earthy citrus with an undertone of spice, and it’s positively intoxicating. You’ve grown to really love that smell, and even the slightest whiff makes your head spin. For the first time maybe ever since you met, his eyes look… soft. Almost warm, even.

“I should probably start getting used to the shadows, again,” he muses with a light smile. “Who knows how long I have left in the sun?” Your heart drops. This had been your greatest fear, that he would feel resentful of the fact that you convinced him not to go through with the ritual, thereby committing him to an indefinite lifetime in the darkness. You know how much he’s grown to love the feeling of the sun on his skin. Not to mention how it makes his skin look, soft and kissable.

“Don’t say that,” you plead with him. “We could still find a way to control the tadpole.” He shakes his head, his freshly washed curls bouncing slightly.

“Maybe, but even if I could control it, it’s a dangerous game. I’d spend every day waiting for something to go wrong. For the tadpole to find a new trick, reassert itself, make me a slave again.” His eyes grow lighter, discovering the truth of what he’s saying as he says it. “Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom.” You reach out and give his arm a reassuring squeeze, relishing the feel of his cool, toned arm beneath the warm linen. Even after all this time, being this close to him makes you a little lightheaded. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and neck, almost as though it’s aching to be drunk.

“I’ll be with you either way,” you breathe softly. You can’t help but glance at his lips. “I hope you know that.”

“I think I do.” He sounds genuine, a bit of a rarity for him. Lest anyone believes Astarion to have a sincere bone in his body, he adds, “Assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you.” You playfully shove his shoulder for teasing you. He laughs and gently pulls you in by your lower back and you feel the heat rising again. Your breath catches as his eyes rake over your body and face. He lingers on your lips for a moment before darting back up to your eyes.

“There’s… something I’d like to show you, if that’s alright? Something out in the city.” He cocks his head and looks at you with an almost impossible combination of bashfulness and lust. Being this close to him and breathing in his heady scent makes you dizzy. You manage to recover just enough to quip, “If you want to sneak off for a cuddle, you can just ask.” He lets you go and you feel a significant drop in your internal temperature.

“I’ll try to restrain myself if you do,” he says with a cheeky smile. He takes you gently by the hand and leads you out the Elfsong Tavern.

The graveyard is quiet, almost serene. Astarion walks forward towards a tombstone covered in ivy and, with something bordering on reverence, brushes the vines away to reveal the text engraved in the crumbling stone.

Astarion Ancunin 1229 DR - 1268 DR

He wipes the dirt off his hands and steps back next to you to get a better view of the stone. You stand together in silence for a moment, as if in prayer.

“Nearly two hundred years and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there.” His gaze is overtaken by that glassy look, the one you recognize to be him reliving his trauma. “I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his.” He sneers at the memory. Then he pauses, considering, “Until today.”

He comes back to himself with a shake of his head, and his eyes return to this plane. He adds, as much to himself as to you, “Now I need to figure out who I am. What I want.”

“And what do you want?” Your mouth is dry as you ask the question. You can hope for the answer, but you wouldn’t dare presume. He might need to figure that out on his own, and if that’s the case, you will respect that.

He turns to face you, his red eyes full of more warmth than you’ve ever seen. Your heart leaps into your throat as he smiles and says, “You… I want you.

“You were by my side through all of this. Through bloodlust and pain and misery. You were patient. You cared.” As he’s speaking your heart starts beating loudly, blood pumping through your arteries at an almost vulgar rate. You know he can tell, and he chuckles softly. Cupping his hand below your ear and gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, he adds teasingly, “You trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do.” He pulls you even closer and rests his forehead against yours. You could never get tired of this. As much as you love those moments filled with heat and lust, there’s something so tender about these intimate gestures that aren’t about sex.

“I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don’t want to lose that.” You grasp at the back of his shirt, looking for purchase as you fall so much more deeply for him. Your voice is barely above a whisper as you breathe, “You won’t. Whatever comes next, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.”

You two stand there for what feels like both an eternity and a fraction of a second before he pulls away and looks at the grave again.

“Well. I should probably fix this.” He pulls a dagger from his belt with practiced fingers and kneels beside the stone, carving something into it. You kneel beside him and see that it now reads

Astarion Ancunin 1229 DR - 1268 DR 1492 DR -

His new life. For the first time in two hundred years, he can call it his own. You find yourself at a loss of what to do, or what to add, so you self-consciously pick up a nearby wildflower and gently place it at the base of his gravestone. He glances at you sideways and smirks, “Cute.” You both sit back on your heels to admire his work. He heaves a great sigh, letting go of centuries of tension and fear.

“I’ve been dead in the ground for long enough. It’s time to start living again.” He turns to you and takes your hands. “With everything life has to offer.” His voice has taken on that gravelly tone that sends a shiver up your spine. You don’t want to pressure him, of course, but your desire for his touch is getting harder to ignore. These gentle grazes, lovely though they’ve been, have set your skin aflame.

“Meaning…?”

His eyes glint mischievously and that familiar flirty lilt comes back to his voice. “If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded.” Your body leans toward him instinctively, breath heavy in your chest. The words are out of your mouth before your brain catches up, “Sounds good to me.” He gets close to your face and you can feel his breath on your lips before he pulls away suddenly. He’s teasing you, and you know that he’s relishing in the satisfaction of it.

“You know,” he says with a feigned innocence, as though he doesn’t know the effect he has on you, “I didn’t care for you when we first met.” The sudden shift in tone knocks you back to reality, and you can’t help but laugh. He impishly glances up at you through his lashes.

“But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance.” He takes your hand, cheekiness gone, and looks you squarely in the eye with a rare earnestness. “I love you. I love this. And I want it all.” You will never tire of hearing those words. He reaches behind your ear and tenderly pulls you closer to him, finally giving your lips the reprieve they’ve been so desperate for. It’s a soft kiss, gentle, yet it still makes you burn up inside.

He pulls away far too soon, and you gaze back at him with starry eyes. His features is soft and smiley, but in an instant he raises on his knees so he’s towering over you and he takes on that stern expression that makes your temperature rise. He shoves you back onto your elbows before bending down to crawl up your torso hungrily. He kisses you again, this time with more intensity. He pins you down with the weight of his chest and then traps you further by nudging your leg up with his knee, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from you. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. And you most certainly don’t want to.

His body presses against yours and you curl your leg around him, pulling him tighter. An almost imperceptible grunt escapes his lips and you smile through your kiss. You can feel his smile in return and you lace your fingers into his silvery hair. He deepens the kiss, rolling his hips harder against you and your mouth opens involuntarily. He takes advantage of this momentary lapse and makes his way toward your neck, marking the trail with kisses. You seize up and your fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging him silently. But he needs more than that, and you know exactly how he’ll respond.

“Use your words,” he hums between kisses. You squirm beneath him, trying to sound even remotely dignified.

“You can,” you manage to gasp out as you try to suppress the moans that his lips are tearing from your throat. He flicks his tongue right over his usual puncture wounds and then gently trails it up the shell of your ear. You shiver with the intensity of it all.

“I can… what? I can’t know unless you tell me.” How the fuck does his voice stay this even? You can bearly even think straight, let alone string full sentences together. And yet he remains calm, nigh indifferent to the effect he’s having on you. But as cool as he is on the surface, you know how much he wants it. You both love the teasing, each night a challenge to see who can outlast the other.

“You can bite me,” you breathe and he nips at your ear ever so lightly, causing you to choke out the last few words, “if you want.”

“If I want? But what do you want?” He emphasizes the pronouns in a singsongy tone, and even hearing “I” and “you” in the same sentence does it for you. He’s still grinding against you all while assaulting your neck with filthy kisses. You try to remember what words are.

“I want you,” you gasp, trying to keep your words legible, “to bite me.” You suck in sharply through your teeth as he hitches your leg up a little higher. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head.

“Are you sure?” his tone is still infuriatingly innocent. He knows how much you want this, and you know what he wants in return. You’re not quite ready to give it to him yet. But gods how you wish he would break first tonight. Odds aren’t looking great as his free hand slips behind your lower back causing you to arch it off the ground slightly.

“Yes,” you groan in agony as his lips continues their heinous walk up and down your neck and collarbone. “Please, Astarion. I want you to.” He nips you again at the same time that he presses his thigh right at the apex between your legs. He tightens his grip on your wrists and whispers sharply in your ear.

“Beg for it.”

That’s it. You’ve lost. You cry out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. The words come tumbling out of you, unbidden and unburdened.

“Please, Astarion, bite me. Please please please. Bite me. I want to feel your fangs pierce my skin. I want to know the feeling of my blood inside you. Gods, please, I can’t take it any longer and if you don’t bite me soon I think I might-”

Thank the realms that he cuts you off in that moment, acquiescing to your begging, because you have no idea how you planned to finish that sentence. The sharp moment of pleasure as he sinks in, followed by the loveliness of feeling your blood flow into his mouth. It makes you feel slightly lightheaded, and the high it gives you is better than any you might hope to achieve on Elendren pipeweed. The gentle feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck contrasts beautifully with the sharp tension of him sucking the blood out of you. You can feel him starting to get lost in your neck, his grip on your wrists loosening. You use this moment of vulnerability in Astarion to get him back by arching your back even more to move your hips against his. You hear the sudden intake of breath through his nose and you smile to yourself smugly. He knows what you did and isn’t about to take it lying down, metaphorically speaking.

Once he’s had his fill he draws away from your neck, lips stained red with your blood. He sits up again, one knee between your legs as he looks down on you. He tsks quietly as he shakes his head, drawling, “So naughty. What am I to do with you?” You prop yourself up on your elbows and return his gaze wickedly, your blood tickling your neck as it drips down toward your shoulder. He swipes at the drop with a long pale finger and lasciviously sucks your blood off his fingertip. Your smug grin is back, knowing how weak he is for you.

His face drops into that stern expression again, but this time a devilish smile plays on his lips. He puts his hand on your chest gently, then takes a hard turn as he grabs you by the throat. Not enough to be painful, nor enough to constrict your breathing, but just enough for him to have control. He studies your face for a moment, admiring its beauty, before he yanks you upward commanding you to look him in the eye. He leans in for a forceful kiss as he keeps his hand tight beneath your jaw. You start to lose yourself in the kiss, melting into him, and he takes the opportunity to sharply push you away, his pointer lingering on your chin to show that he’s still in control of where you look. He lets you go and leans back confidently, enjoying how you’ve become extremely pliable in his hands.

He stands to loom over you for a second more, then reaches for your hand to pull you up. You’re completely under his power and couldn’t be more than happy to give him whatever he wants. You take his hand and he pulls it behind his back, pressing your chest into his.

“You’d better be good for me,” he murmurs against your lips, once again denying the kiss you ache for. “We wouldn’t want to punish any bad behavior, now would we?” He caresses your face momentarily and then turns with your hand still in his and pulls you toward… somewhere. Honestly, you couldn’t care where. You love him, and you love this, and you’ll go wherever he leads.

#astarion fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion angst #astarion fluff

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 8 months

Note

If you could write a little thing with fem!tav and astarion where tav brings up the topic of having children? Just would love to see what you do with it and how Astarion would react, etc!

@dexpairs-blog asked: Could i request Astarion reacting to tav babying the owlbear cub and Scratch 24/7? Like baby talk, holding them like babies, playing with them and showering them with all their attention as soon as they set foot in the camp

pspsps what if i made it painful lol

Rated: M

He has no particular interest in children. They are bothersome needy creatures that he has no intention of entertaining. Astarion never understood why you like them so much, brats all of them. The time you give such caring words to the tieflings children, helped Mol out of her contact, to let some kid stay at the camp because the kid's mommy was missing.

Astarion didn't see the point but did see how you interacted with children, this gentle side of you with the bright smile he enviously wants only for him.

The Vampire Ascendant does not need to be. He already owns your body and mind.

You currently are watching Scratch run around playing with the kids in the park, your sweet giggles as the two children pretend to be heroes fighting imaginary villains with their fearsome battle dog! The owlbear is in the Crimson Palace enjoying his afternoon nap after being fed. Astarion is usually with him, you notice he has grown closer to it in recent years.

"Little love," You jump when he wraps his arms around you, "Enjoying your toys?" It… Bothered you long ago by what he calls everyone you have a harmless interest in (or interact with) toys, which is a step up from being cattle (not by much). You long ago stopped trying to convince him otherwise.

"The children are enjoying themselves. Scratch is going to sleep well tonight." You speak as kisses are placed on your exposed back, his arms pulling you closer, "Astarion," It is hard not to squirm as he hums with minor acknowledgment and seeks you out physically. Luckily you are hidden under a shaded tree while the children are pretty far from your secluded spot. "Not here." Denying him is impossible, both because he won't be denied and because you need him.

"I promised you a decade in each other's arms," resting his chin on your shoulder with eyes closed, "Yet, here you are outside without me." Hurt. Astarion seeks you out like a shark to blood, he fiends for you in a way you never thought possible.

The ascension changed him, you remind yourself.

"Soon," Tilting your head against his, "Allow me to stay a little longer."

One might think he wants time away from him.

When you pull away, your warmth leaving him, your hand catches his, "Come." You tug for him to follow.

When darkness falls, when the streets fall silent, the taverns are full; he has you close to him. Normally, he would go hunting to bring prey to feed you however tonight he does not leave your side. Laying next to one another in the bed, your eyes looking into his.

The conversation comes up over a petty argument and you still feel the tears on your cheeks.

"A child?"

"Yes, our own." You place his hand on your stomach, "We can make one. Father," The title spoken with some defeat, "Granted me that ability."

Astarion is aware, Kanchelsis gave his blessing for his beast child to be the consort of the Ascendant.

"Now why would you want a little bugger running around here? Isn't babying that dog and owlbear of yours enough?

The day you found that dog, Gods above, you refused to leave the camp until Lae'zel dragged you out. Then the owlbear! Halsin was not a damn help as he also pet the creature too.

Strange, he misses those chaotic days at times… Especially Gale.

"Mine," With a raised eyebrow, "Says the vampire who cuddles with said owlbear when it is having a nightmare." The indignant look he gives you makes you chuckle, "I only brought it up because…" His hand on your stomach slides up your chest until it reaches your face, a sad face. "Family with you… I dream of it. Of us."

He can see them, though the tadpole is long gone, the vampire can peer into your mind. Share thoughts and feelings between the bond of master and spawn— Lovers. The dreams are vivid, he can hear and picture the child that looks like him but shares parts of you too.

A family.

Your mind feels him sneer, the dislike, the fear. The fear of being a terrible father, be like how Cazador was with his family—turning and enslaving them.

"Astarion," Staring up as he moves to pin you down, "Ah!" Biting your neck and drinking from you.

"Ask me for anything and it will be yours," His lips bloodied, "This however I can't."

You are disappointed but you understand Astarion may never be in the right mindset to have a family. Too much trauma that though you tried helping him, it festers in him never to truly heal.

His forehead rests on yours, his fingers intertwined with yours keeping your hands pinned down above your head.

Sex is different this time. Of course, it feels good– Great, but this time he entertained something you hadn't expected him to do. "You... Don't have… Astarion, you don't need to." The way he fucks you is as if he was going to breed a child into you. As if every round is driven with the intention of seeing your stomach swell with his child.

It is a fantasy he entertains, speaking the filthiest words as you cry out for him. Maybe he is trying to make up to you for his rejection, you don't know. You do know after, in the silence of the aftermath, as you play with his messy white curls, his hand rubs your stomach.

A longing that he cannot ever give you this one desire.

#reader insert #fanfiction #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Butterfly I

a/n I'm clawing my way into this fandom since salt and pepper god took over my brain! Be gentle with me since it's my first time writing for this man! Happy reading! 🤍

summery: When Joel thinks that his life is over his little butterfly sends him a new reason to stay alive. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to love but when you are the meaning of love itself how can he not fall.

Part II can be found on my blog

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World had ended twenty years ago for Joel. Even more so, he was sure that he had died alongside Sarah. If he had a chance, he would have gladly been buried by his little girl. He didn't have a reason to be alive. Well, there was Tommy, but at that moment even that didn't seem like enough to keep him going. The moment Joel failed to do his first and most important job—protect the ones he loved—changed him without a chance of going back.

The morals had to die soon as well, and Joel had learned it the hard way. He tried to fight and protect the innocent at first. To stupidly ensure that everyone had been taken care of in the same amounts. Well, that resulted in him getting beaten multiple times. He didn't fight it at first. The physical pain numbed the emotional scars. But then something snapped in him, and he longed for the first blow. Then the second. Third. With a realization that this was how his sorry life was going be for the rest of his pointless existence. To fear less, Joel needed to become someone people feared, and he did just that.

Until, after one of his deals, he ended up running into you. Completely by accident as he tried to get away from the people he just had business with. Joel bumped into you, knocking you to the ground and causing you to hit your head on the pavement. "Shit, fuck", the male kneeled beside you cursing. You just laid there, and for a split second, Joel was convinced that you had died, until you let out a growl as you moved your hand to gently touch your pounding head. He debated whether he should just leave you there or take you back to his place. The first option was less complicated and demanded fewer efforts from him, but when he saw your eyes as you tried to look around, seeking to find who had caused such a collision, that's when he knew he couldn't just walk away like that.

Then a smile crept onto your face, followed by a light chuckle, and something inside Joel twisted again. He hadn't heard the sound of laughter in years. "Dang, for a moment I saw white horses running around", you laughed out loud, covering your eyes with your hands. Even more, concern washed over Joel. Had you hit your head that hard? He couldn't afford to get you medication or even a doctor for that. So he did the next best thing - assisted you in getting up and walking you to his place.

Everything after that was made up of Joel trying to hurt you so you would leave him and go your way. He desperately wanted to push you out of his life because he was afraid to admit that Sarah would have loved you. That she would have been nagging him constantly to bring you around. Imagining how life would have been with you before the outbreak. How would it have felt to come home to you making dinner? Hearing you and Sarah laughing together. Joel knew—he knew without even needing to think about it much—that his daughter would have loved you. He wished she had had the opportunity to experience your motherly love. The effortless, endless love that poured from within you. And finally, have a truly normal family built on love.

After all, Joel was convinced that Sarah had sent you to him herself. As if it was her way of making sure, even from heaven, which Joel barely believed in, that her father lived. Not just used up air and wasted his days away but found something to live for. You angrily bandaged Joel's arm one evening after yet another deal had ended poorly, leaving the man with a nasty cut on his forearm. Well, if he could even call that anger. Joel doubted you had that emotion implanted in your brain. You had pushed up your sleeves, not wanting the ends of them to get damp as you moved back and forth between a bowl of warm water and a cloth to clean the blood off his skin. That was the first time Joel saw the ink on your body. A butterfly, and then another one just above the first one.

Joel thought he imagined it at first. He knew he must have looked like a lunatic to you when he gripped your left hand firmly before pushing the material of your sleeve even further up. Three butterflies. All inching further up and up. Butterflies. Sarah loved them; she was Joel's little butterfly. The butterfly that got crushed by the brutality of this world.

"Joel," you carefully mumbled as his fingers traced the tattoos. A flicker of what was behind the mask flashed in his eyes. You knew that he was a broken man. People talked, and even if half of what they were saying was true, it was a lot to go through. Especially alone. Especially after losing the main purpose of your world. "This… when did you get this?", his words came out harsh, as if you should have felt guilty, "Not long before the outbreak. It just…", you giggled to yourself, "Feels silly now that they symbolize growth, a new beginning, and shit". However, it didn't seem stupid to Joel even if he had yanked the cloth out of your hand, pushing you out of the bathroom. Emotions took control of him. He couldn't love you. Couldn't stand you. But the way you kept knocking at the door, concern in your voice as you pleaded with him to let you in, only proved what he already knew. You two had found someone to hold onto. As scary as it may sound.

When Ellie first met you, she couldn't believe that you two were even here and had somehow mutually agreed on something. It seemed impossible to her. You were the polar opposite in her eyes. From the moment in the hallway when Joel had yanked her against the wall, you had warned the male as you leaned over to the girl. Ellie backed away at first, but it's like you had a magical touch, and not even a blink later, she was clinging to you as if you were the last straw for her survival. Joel had only grumbled more at the sight of that. "Get your hands off her," he said, motioning with the gun for the girl to move away, but all you did was tilt your head to the side, giving him one of those looks. "Joel…" you warned him, before turning your attention to the girl, "I'm Y/N, and that's Joel. He's always grumpy. It comes with age, so don't pay too much attention to him." For a moment, Ellie got scared that the gun might now end up being pointed at you, but the male only tightened his jaw before lowering the weapon. And that didn't change when you crossed the wall. You were there talking with her, making sure that she was okay, ensuring that Ellie's desire to communicate was satisfied, while Joel just frowned.

"Here you are", Joel's voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you smiled at him softly. You had just made your way to the safe house. Days of traveling rubbed off on all of you, so you were more than happy to indulge in some peace. "Was wondering where you crept away", even if Joel was 99 percent sure that he was going to find you here once he didn't find you in the dining room. It only took one look outside to know you'd be on the patio. Curled up on the bench watching the sunset. Any time you came by Bill's and Frank's, you always spent your evenings there.

"Missed the view," you mumble, resting your chin on your knees, "Or maybe the fact that there is nothing to fear here." Joel moved to sit next to you. His own eyes admired the view. He stopped doing stuff like this. Before the outbreak, it was work, work, work to keep a roof over everyone's heads, bring food, and give Sarah the best life that she deserved. After… well, moments like this felt almost forbidden. Not to mention that letting your guard down could get you killed. "Come here," Joel said, nudging your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you. Interactions like that between the two of you were rear but not completely foreign. You two had shared the bed numerous times. Joel had offered you a warm embrace when he saw that the world was close to crushing you. But you had never talked about who you two were or if you were anything more than a bed warmer for one another. "You do know that I would do anything to protect you?", Joel spoke out under his breath, bringing you even closer to him. Your heart skipped a beat as you moved your palm to cup his jaw, leaving a couple of kisses there as you nodded.

"Do you think they were happy when they…", you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence as the lump in your throat grew bigger. Joel hummed, "They had each other. That's all Bill and Frank needed". You moved to rest your head on Joel's shoulder. Breathing in both the scent of him and the brisk evening breeze. "Do you ever dream about finding the love they had?", the question was silly, truly, and you knew it. You and your existential questions had pissed Joel off more than once, but for some reason, you never stopped asking them. And for some reason, even through gritted teeth, Joel always answered them. The silence fell between you two for a moment. Joel hesitated to give you an answer. The truth was that the ten years you'd spent by his side had been surreal for him. Even if he constantly pushed you away, no matter the arguments you two would have, he always came back to you. Always. And you never walked away. You were always there waiting for him, even when he quite literally told you to get lost. When you were apart, all Joel could think of, was you. Nothing else mattered. He didn't matter. It was you who swirled around his mind. "Well," the male trailed off, "I've already…" But the door on the patio shot open as Ellie walked out, still looking down at the drawing on the shirt you had found for her.

"Hey, did you know that wild berry soup smells like strawberries?", she beamed till her eyes fell on the two of you. Her face instantly shifted since she had never seen you two this close. Well, she assumed that you might be together, but since she didn't see any grown-up interactions being exchanged, she just pushed that thought to the side. "Shit man, you are together. I was talking shit about him to you," Ellie practically cried out as she raised her hands above her head, making you let out a laugh against Joel's shoulder. "We're not dating, bug", "She talked shite about me?" you and Joel said at the same time. The fact that he had gotten visibly offended by it made you let out another chuckle before you tapped his chest a couple of times.

"Girls have to stick together," you shrugged, and Ellie quickly gave Joel the middle finger. "Okay, enough, you two. Go insane, pick something for dinner, and I'll be right behind you," you said, throwing the blanket you had with at the girl, as ushered Ellie inside. You brushed your hand over Joel's chest as you walked towards the door. Joel's brain screamed at him to catch your hand. To make you stop so he could tell you the words he was meaning to say before Ellie walked in, but he didn't. Only tightening his jaw as his lips thinned into a tight line. He was a fool. A true fool who never truly learned to express himself. If only he could, maybe he would be able to call you his.

Joel's gaze immediately shifted to the window that peaked into the inside of the house once the sound of something falling echoed through the air. You and Ellie were on different sides of the island. The girl had one of those smirks that usually led nowhere good on her face. Then the sound of laughter shot through the space as you took off running to grab hold of whatever Ellie was holding in her hands. The girl squealed as you both ran in circles. "Give me the spaghetti hoops, you little thief!", you yelled, but that only made Ellie laugh more. "I'll tell Joel", you tried to threaten her, but she only let out a huff, "You wouldn't snitch", Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. You quickly hopped onto the island and slid to the other side, taking hold of both of Ellie's hands but losing your balance as you two tumbled to the ground. Joel practically ran inside at the sight of that, the worst scenarios already running wild. He couldn't let you get hurt. Neither of you could get hurt.

Joel rounded the corner, his heart already beating fast. And here you were. Ellie was nearly on top of you as you, as you two stared at each other, both still confused at what had just happened. And then there it was again. The laughter. The whole-hearted laughter drenched Joel's heart dry. Your arms wrapped around Ellie as she giggled away, pressing her cheek against your chest. Joel picked up the can of spaghetti hoops that had rolled off and were long forgotten. "Oh no, daddy is here, and he is mad," Ellie shrieked playfully, not lifting her head away from you. "Don't call me that shit," Joel warned her before slamming the can against the counter. He quickly turned around, running a hand over his face. Your expression clouded as well. Carefully, you helped Ellie stand up. Her eyes were looking at you as if she were silently asking if she had overstepped a boundary, but you just gave her a quick wink before pointing to the pot. In a couple of steps, you reached Joel as your hands ran down his back. His muscles tensed under your touch, but the moment you pressed a kiss in between his shoulder blades, Joel let out a sigh. "How about you take a shower while we heat up the food? Clear your mind and all that?", you continued to draw patterns on his skin. Joel didn't say anything as he stepped away from you and over to the stairs.

"Is he mad with me?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. Her big eyes watched you as you shook your head. "He… well, Joel struggles with his emotions. He cares a lot, but that ends up overwhelming him, and then this happens," you said softly, Ellie nodded her head as if agreeing with you. You nudged her shoulder gently and asked, "Want to make the whole feast tonight? Get the canned sausages out." The shower was indeed all that Joel needed. The hot water took that extra weight of tension off his shoulders, and the fresh set of clothes made him feel like a new man. He was excellent at ignoring his basic needs, but with you, there was no need to worry about that because you always reminded him about all the little things. Things to made him feel better.

Ellie was delivering joke after joke while you all ate. Her energy was surprisingly high, considering that the last couple of days had been rough. "I'm telling you, he just knows all the jokes", she grumbled when Joel hit the right answer to her fifth joke, defeating the purpose of her performance. Joel's hand had slipped under the table, casually resting on your thigh, and you occasionally gave it a little squeeze as if to ensure him that you were here with him. "Okay, can I try?", you weren't much of a jokester, but everyone knew a joke or two. Ellie nodded her head eagerly. You cleared your throat, "What do you call a fish with a bow tie?" You questioned the two of them, trying not to break into a smile. Ellie shrugged her shoulders. "SoFISHticated," Ellie just gaped at you, but Joel snorted under his breath. Your eyes fall on him in an instant. He shook his head, trying to keep the smile off his face. "You laughed, you fucker," Ellie said, pointing her fork at Joel. "I didn't," Joel argued back, "Yes, you fucking did. Y/N tell him", "Yeah, Joel, I consider that a laugh", you moved your hand to gently rub the back of his neck, and his eyes met yours. He got lost in the depths of them just a bit before another laugh escaped his lips. You bit your lip as you watched him, realizing how much you had missed the sound of that. Since the only time you heard it was when the two of you got shitface drunk, and he fell while trying to take his pants off.

"You can fucking laugh. Dude, you're normal," Ellie beamed, watching Joel chuckle. "Eat your noodles before I take them away," Joel warned, reaching over and scooping some of the spaghetti hoops from Ellie's plate, making her protest straight away. She leaned across the table to do the same, but Joel brushes her spoon away easily. "No playing with the food, you two," you gently warn them, even though you enjoyed watching them interact, especially Joel letting her in. They instantly settle back down, even if they continue to watch one another from the corner of their eyes.

Yeah, this was the closest to home that Joel had gotten in over twenty years. Now all he needed to do was own up to his feelings. Admit to himself that the scary feelings won't disappear. But he was going to be equally scared with you or without your officially being a part of his life. And he had promised Sarah, his little butterfly, that he wasn't going to let this go to waste. And that the three butterflies on your hand were possibly you, Joel, and Ellie; that you were all fated to meet. Maybe you two were sent here to change his life. Teach Joel how to fly again.

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine

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blueberryarchive · 3 months

Text

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 & 𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒓

♰pairing; preacher!jk x reader x cowboy!jm

♰word count; 4.6k

♰genre; smut, horror, angst

♰tw; dead dove do not eat, drowning, heavy non-con, dacryphilia, oral, penetration, mentions of blood, depiction of religion, gruesome details of death, physical and verbal violence (jk has a serious rage problem), alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of jk wanting to have sex as a teen.

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"Love. Sweetheart, stay with me a lil' longer, please. Fuck, Jeon, she's dying on me." Jimin bellowed, a halo of violet light outlining his silhouette as dry cornfields passed by the sides of the truck, your body bouncing with the truck's turmoil from side to side.

You looked down and saw your numb leg, the dark hole of burnt skin that Park soaked with a misty liquor. His awake and worried eyes, the dried blood of your lusts on his lips, the new blood that the wound vomited out, covering his hands, becoming thicker and purer.

Your shoulders slumped, your head resting on the back window of the truck. The two men were fighting, but that was just as the murmur of crickets and moths.

The sky was infinite, domed with stars, all subtly arranged in the perfect position. You saw among the sequins of God, all your dresses and the damn heels in which you had to squeeze your growing body. How Miss Texas' adorable smile became a pathetic white plate without emotion.

And oh, you knew that the fall of a star was inevitable, but not even the flame began to die when you were already sunken between the rocks and the soft grass caressing the last spark, your first tears of acceptance. And in the grass, you dozed, feeling sorry for your own useless body, the plastic crowns, the gold, and the memories of the applause.

"No! Stay." A slap brought you back to the hard floor of a barn. The unknown man grabbed your cheeks and choked you with a long, bitter drink of homemade liquor.

The little light came in from a window in the wooden ceiling, the heat emanating from the hay and wool piled in the corner, leaving a strong smell, you groaned before vomiting to the side.

"Fuck, Jungkook. She's not a fucking animal, you're going to make her faint." Jimin pushed his partner. Jungkook swallowed hard. His pale, neat face was dirty with crimson droplets.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Park?" Jungkook pushed him back, and neither of them could believe it, neither the action nor the power in the voice.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Letting in a bunch of rapist shit-smoking hippies without a fucking cent to pay for their stay."

And then you thought about the rifle the father was carrying, about Sage and the others. A gasp from deep in your chest, the sob reminding you of your pain.

The rifle was pointed at you with anger pooling in his neck that didn't let him breathe. You screamed as you tried to stand up but it was useless, your wounded leg was your cross. Jimin moved as quickly as possible to cover your mouth, squeezing until it hurt.

"What did you do with the others?" Park's voice trembled, and his partner's eyes showed an open, bloody wound that would not close until a couple of demons ran away.

"I shot the boy in the shoulder, the two girls took the car and drove to California. I made them promise not to come back."

"You're a fucking psychopath." Your scream is muffled by the cowboy's fingers.

The rifle flew away in the hay, and the impatient sheep threw themselves to one side when they knew that it was not food they brought but danger.

"Jeon, stop!"

Jungkook was taller and heavier than his partner, so it wasn't difficult to lunge at you, grab your hair, and compress your chin until he felt every tooth. He was sweating with the smell of incense and wine, his thin lips spit in your face.

"It's because of people like you that I want to leave the church and buy a damn truck, pick up every son of a bitch on Route 66 who raises his dirty thumb on the side of the road, and bathe them in acid until they dissolve alive."

You didn't say anything, because you were pure meat in front of him, a mere animal for slaughter if you moved too close…

Two hot tears fell to Jungkook's fingers, and it was as if a flower had opened in his hand. A strange tickling in his throat left him passive, mute. He removed his hat with the respect the pained lady deserved.

"You're the Bell Ranch kid."

"Please tell me you didn't start shooting people in my house." Jimin interrupted, pacing back and forth impatiently.

"Jimin, she's the Bell Ranch kid-"

"I know, it doesn't matter now. You shot her and she's bleeding herself to death, Christ."

"I told you it was just a shot, they'll probably think it was to scare a coyote."

The cowboy crouched down and tucked his head between his legs, the alcohol rising into his veins.

"You're such an idiot, you know?" The father continued, filling the silence.

"What did you just say?"

"You really believe that these people come to enjoy rural life, to feed your chickens and fuck in the mountains."

"I needed the money," Jimin muttered stressed.

"The fuck you needed that money for?"

"To get the hell out of this place." He roared, standing again in front of Jungkook. "I'm sick and tired of Rivermouth and its moribund, corrupt town. It makes me want to throw up just thinking about having to see the fucking faces of the same people at Bee's diner again."

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows at him, seeing him as if he were a child throwing a tantrum.

"But everyone loves you, you're like a star here."

Jimin laughed, glassy eyes threatening to ooze saline waters.

"Do you know who else was a star in this town? Your dad, little church boy."

"Jimin." He warned you saw how his fists showed through his knuckles.

"And the star decided to have a summer camp for all the children, ended up in a human grill, and everyone thought that your dad fucked children."

It was so fast that you couldn't see Jimin's body fall to the ground, the dust hiding the blows that reverberated from Jimin's skull. The cowboy didn't lift his arms, instead, he let his friend vent until he saw Jimin's silver fang painted red.

Jungkook gasped like a barbarian, his arms trembled before he delivered the next punch and fell next to Jimin, overwhelming moans coming from his chest, stale tears, and babbling that only Jimin understood, but he didn't move.

Jimin closed his eyes, thinking about teenage Jungkook who was trying to get close to the burned body of his father, which Jimin never let him talk about or touch, for the funeral he locked him in his room even after protests and threats. He didn't know if he wanted to protect him, if because he was older than him, he thought about taking the role that that monument of a man had left behind.

He was as attractive as his son, charismatic, and an all-around good man. But his statue began to crack when some young people arrived at the church, a couple who convinced him that he did not need the God for whom he so praised and knelt down. But he was the deity, who with his wings would go far.

He had this idea of encouraging the little ones next to him, elevating them. He closed the doors of the old church, while singing with the children and bathed the edges of the windows in kerosene.

The screams were hellish, no one heard them. No one cried more than the little boy who saw his sister burning on the ground, no one screamed more than the girl whose dress melted into her skin, and no one trusted her father more than the youngest son of Father John I.

Jungkook's younger brother hung from his father's clothes, watching his friends burn with a sense of purpose, that this had to happen for his own good.

And like Icarus, the sun kissed his father's body without Jungkook realizing the changes until very late: the sarcastic laughter in the middle of reading, his constant absence, the misplaced and ambitious gaze.

His mother fell into the abyss. Died sitting in a rocking chair when her body seemed to disintegrate more and more every day. A rosary in hand, a tiresome prayer that licked away her sorrows.

"Come on, we have to think about what we're going to do with her," Jimin murmured, wiping away the trickle that ran down his nose. Jungkook gave him his hand and stood up. Both men hugged each other until the minor stopped sobbing.

The father looked in your direction, determined. You could feel the black socket of his eyes fire just once and not miss.

"We have to chain her before she runs away."

Jimin nodded. There was no time to lose.

A latent pain spread through Jungkook's head until a crown of pure anguish decorated his hair. Two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as the phone rang incessantly on the other line.

One of the things that bothered him about Billie, was the way time seemed to run smoothly and leisurely through her fingers. It took her forever to analyze things, to choose what she was going to eat, even if it would always be chicken pot pie; and in this case, answer the phone.

The telephone booth where he was was dirty, it smelled of urine, and the windows were clouded with dust. He was still wearing his black shirt and pants, his collar pristine white, his old man's ring on his right hand being moved anxiously.

He couldn't believe what he would do in his free time instead of being with the girl he had decided to marry. But a letter arrived at his office at the church that afternoon, one of the children playing in the park had been sent with it. The letter was a simple piece of paper wrapped and tied with an improvised wildflower as a cord.

I'll be busy tonight. The sheep must be tamed and sheared. J.

When he read the words, he almost dropped the paper on the floor and sent the boy out with a dollar in his hand so that he would promise not to tell anyone.

He spent the entire mass having trouble speaking, gave averted glances, and cleared his throat like a sick man. The drops of sweat clinging to his chest, it was hell.

"Hello?"

"Billie, it's John, sweetheart."

"Why are you not here?" His chest sank as he heard the sweet voice of his girl. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

"I must..." his voice trailed off. The last time he lied was so long ago.

It's not that religion made him feel guilty for telling a lie, sometimes a father must lie to people's faces with such solemnity that the devotee can only let themselves fall into the invisible hands of God and lie down on hope for a miracle.

"I have to take care of one Park's ewe. Poor little one it's havin' some trouble, and he doesn't want her to be alone until his show ends." Terrible, one of the worst lies he's ever made.

Silence.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Billie purred, almost in a plea. He sighed, he could see her pink varnished nail tangled in the phone cord eagerly. Trying not to wake her dad's ears with such questions.

Jungkook had her on the edge because he hadn't even kissed her. He knew he was cruel for that. It's not that he has officially offered either, but sometimes a man doesn't lie through words, but by taking her home, by looking into her eyes for a longer time when he gives her the host, by helping her learn to touch herself inside the confessional.

"It's better not to, pet. I'm sure it'll be an allnighter, the thing'll be crying for hours and I know how sensitive you are with animals."

"It's true, you know me so well, Jungkook."

He smiled. "I know, darling." He clears his throat before continuing. "But tomorrow you can come to the parish, and we will feed the pigeons in the morning. How 'bout that?"

One more lie, this time it was not the hands of God but the calloused and bloody hands of the young father. But she just giggled.

"Goodnight, Billie. Say hi to your mother for me."

"'Night, Johnnie. I love you."

A lump in his throat, and he thanked God because after saying that, she closed the call. His tongue turned to lead to say those three words back. He knew he did, he wanted to protect Billie more than anything and make her happy, but there was no need to say it, right?

Jungkook's shirt was unbuttoned, the shaking in his breathing causing an unusual tremor in the sound of the farm. It was a windy night, there wasn't much moonlight, so Jungkook lit several kerosene lamps on the banks.

The wooden tub was arranged in the center, the horses and chickens raising their heads every time Jungkook grunted, bringing more hot water. The sweat falling down his temples and over his broad chest, the steam had him suffocated in that silence, and you showed no signs of waking up at any time.

He approached the hay in the corner where the sheep surrounded your body curled up like a fetus, you slept with bloody clothes and matted hair. Your breathing is as soft as the wool around you, both hands and feet tied with rope.

You looked like a lost princess. A princess who devoured every man in her land, and now she rests peacefully to reduce her satiety. Your dry mouth and the remains of Jimin's blood fell to your neckline, making Jungkook's face boil, because he couldn't believe that his friend had fallen for such banalities. It made him want to take the same lamp in his fingers and drop it on top of your delicate body.

His boot touched your low heels, but nothing. He crouched down until he had his hand close to your shoulder, your skin tender under the shaking flames, curved and soft under the dress you were wearing.

You were disgusting, angelic, so terribly at peace in your state.

Of course, upon his arrival at Jimin's house, the first thing he did was open your suitcase and touch all your belongings. Because, in the end, a woman is her belongings: she is the compact blush that she has worn since she was 19, she is the old leather necklace with the worn-out heart pendant and the empty perfume bottle.

Women feel this need to keep things that don't work or lose their value over time. Something that may have to do with how Jungkook sees them, how it's the opposite for him. How his father and his uncles also saw the women in his life. The brighter, the better.

Women, instead, have their daughters' teeth in their jewelry like yellowish nacre and love the same man from their fifteenth until the memories fade with their bodies.

Jungkook knew you would like something to remind you of home, where you truly belong. Not California, not New York, not even Austin; but Rivermouth, with its disproportionate mountains, the storm clouds filling the sky at all hours, and the same faces transferring from parents to children to grandchildren.

A place where nothing changed and that was the good thing. Even though things might end up bad.

He was sure your body was not leaving that barn, he had come to that decision the same day he saw you.

To recompensate, he decided to find you the most beautiful dress among your belongings, a delicate bow with which he would decorate your neck and a vermilion lipstick.

His hand squeezed your shoulder until you stood up screaming, his hand went straight to your mouth.

"Don't fucking do that, please." The way you looked around made Jungkook understand that you didn't remember anything, it was sad to see the weight lift your pupils towards his and still try to find an explanation. "You need to shower, your stench is making me sick."

He grabbed your bound wrists and dragged you to the edge of the hot water, a round, yellowish sponge and sulfur soap placed on a stool.

"Don't make a noise, you'll wake up Sweet Pea," Jungkook murmured behind you, the heat of his breath on your back.

Sweet Pea was a sheep separated from the others, sleeping between a bed made of hay and old coats. Her bloated stomach writhed with each ragged breath. She suffered with her mouth open and her woolly paws shivering with every squirm of the babies in her belly, she slept painfully.

"Raise your arms." The man behind you whispered, a sharp Swiss army knife cutting through the fabric of your dress like butter. The cold of his hands removing your dress let a gasp leave your lips. "Easy, there."

His tall, sweaty body leaned into your hands, his eyes evading yours, swallowing hard. Your breasts fell light and exquisite, your exposed stomach curved until it reached the plain of your pussy and Jungkook felt like the edge of his knife would slip from his hands as he finished tearing your clothes.

"Let's see the wound." He cleared his throat, sitting on the bench where he had a clean pair of gauze. "Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" You interrupted, raising your foot to the top of his knee.

"Have some respect. I'm not one of your little friends."

You rolled your eyes as the slender fingers removed the knot from the dirty yellowed gauze. You hissed, leaning your body forward. As a result, you placed your hands on top of Jungkook's jet-black hair, tightening the strands under your fingers in the last turn of the gauze. Jungkook took a deep breath, his fingers trembling gently as he examined the bruised hole.

"At least the blood stopped."

"Do you plan to heal my wound until I starve to death here?"

Jungkook was already getting tired of your words, of that shrill accent, and your lips always a little parted as if waiting for them to fill your mouth with-

"I plan to heal your wounds until I find a grave big enough to put you and all your things in." Your alert eyes made him laugh. He loved seeing the terror in them. Made you look more adorable.

He grabbed the clear liquor from among the hay and wet a piece of cotton. Your left leg was shaking from the effort, and you were weak, surely Jimin was stupid enough to not leave you something to eat before going to enjoy his fame.

"You're crying." Jungkook saw the tears falling to your breasts, you were quick to remove the ones that were flowing with your tied hands. Inhaling and sobbing like a little girl trying to be brave. You were terrified.

God and men knew why the statues of virgins were always portrayed as suffering. He wanted to run his fingers over your face, lick every salty tear, and say more chilling things to you to make you cry even more.

His hand rested on his lap and patted a couple of times.

"I know it hurts, stop being so stubborn."

You left your buttocks on his lap and placed both arms on your chest, covering your breasts. You were a mess, and you hated that you were crying, rivulets falling to the sockets of your collarbones. Jungkook focused on it, feeling thirsty as he cleaned the wound.

A hand rested on your bare waist to keep you from falling, calloused fingers unconsciously caressing the soft skin. Your back rose and fell with each whimper.

"I was kiddin', kid. For God's sake." He frowned, yet you continued. He grabbed the bottle again and grabbed your chin with his thumbs, long gulps of sheer force passing down your throat. "There ya' go. Stop the whining, now."

You coughed as you felt the alcohol melt your stomach with its heat.

"I hate you both. I wish I was dead."

"Me too, pumpkin."

The next step was to get into the bathtub. You closed your eyes as the heat engulfed your body, the steam cleaning your pits after crying your fill. You moaned softly as you snuggled into the soggy sheet.

On the other side was the father, sitting with both legs open while he slowly scrubbed the sponge with the soap. His hungry eyes were behind the whitish walls of hot steam.

"You're a virgin. Right, Father John?" Your light, sharp tongue asked, moving you closer to the edge of the tub.

His gaze went to yours, bold, fed up. He dropped the soap and poured water on your face and hair with an empty can of chickpeas. The slippery hair was easy to clench in his fist, the sponge in his hand rubbing circles on your back.

You pursed your lips as you felt the pressure you caused on him. Well, it looks like it was true.

"Don't you have a little girlfriend? It must be so lonely in this fucking town."

"I'll make you cry harder if you keep talking bullshit."

The foam was sliding down to your breasts, Jungkook tried to be as stoic as possible cleaning the area.

There was something quite submissive about him that brought out your worst thoughts. The worst part was that the alcohol made you dangerously flirtatious and you couldn't keep yourself in check. Not even when your life hung on it.

Between his long, slender fingers, over his broad back, and his soft, deadly voice.

You couldn't take it any longer as you moved closer to his body, the exact curve between his ear and his neck, and inhaled deeply. His hand under the water cleaning between your legs. You could feel his breathing become sharper.

"She gave it to you, right?" You sniffed closer. "You wear it to go see her, but now you have to bathe some shitty hippie you humiliated once in your teens."

"Shut up."

"Unlike your cowboy friend, you are a gentleman. You don't fuck 'em, then leave with your dick wet."

Jungkook chuckled. Silence.

He put the sponge on the bench and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.

"I think we're done." He smiled.

Your eyebrows furrowed as he kicked off his shoes and stepped into the tub next to you. A heavy hand rested on your face and you could only feel the water entering your lungs, the beat of your screams turning into bubbles among the grayish water.

Out. A gasp, your heart beating a mile an hour searching for air between the hardness of Jungkook's palm.

In. Your body arched, bound hands clawing at Jungkook's arm. The impenetrable darkness consumed you, the sound pressure of the water, the metallic taste in your throat.

Out.

Your purple face, swollen eyes, crimson lips.

"Breathe, breathe." His voice was soft, and his fingers went to your hair to support your weak body. You heard a metallic clinking sound, your eyes burning from the soap in the water. "Open your mouth."

His fingers separated your teeth to make way for his cock, the pulse of his veins massaging your lips. Jungkook hissed loudly, throwing his head back.

"Atta, girl. Open more, I know bitches like you can dislocate their fuckin' jaws."

Your eyelashes fluttered, looking for a way to look into his eyes and ask for mercy. But your eyes burned terribly and the saliva fell in streams from your mouth every time his cock came out and came back in with more force. You could only squeeze his wet pants and clumsily try to shake his thigh to make him realize you were choking.

"Mm."

"Don't trytta "mm" me. This is what you wanted."

For the first time, his cock came completely out of your mouth, drool falling into the water.

His arm supported your body and lifted your top out of the water, revealing how shiny and smooth your ass looked presented to him. The bottle of liquor was right next to you. You heard Jungkook take a gulp and how his forearm chained your neck so you could drink with him. For a few seconds, you resisted until you could do nothing but open your mouth or choke on alcohol.

"Shh, don't cry again." His fingers massaged your wet hair, his face pressed to yours as he slid his cock between your ass cheeks. "Such a crybaby. You're the one popping my cherry tonight, little buckle bunny. Ain't ya' happy?"

"I'm scared, please let me go." Your voice tore through your throat with torture, phlegm building up in your nose.

"No, can't." His cock found your entrance, the sting of the soap lubricating you, and the growl that came from Jungkook's chest made your body tense. "You need me, remember? If it was because of Park, you would have been dead a long time ago."

"I'm scared, please-"

"Shhh."

The lamps were going out little by little, leaving the shadows of Jungkook's body to engulf yours.

When your pussy began to make way and pulse around his cock, he felt sorry for not having done it sooner, for not having taken the first five dollars he stole from his father when he was fifteen and find a whore to fuck, for not having let Mandy, the daughter of his math teacher, suck him last year of school; of not having taken all the divine women in his church and instead of giving them the host, putting his cock in their mouth.

He thought about each and every one of them. He thought about Billie and the confessional, and fuck! How delicious it felt to have all your blood go to one place, leaving you dizzy and stupid like a farm animal in heat.

"Why don't we-" he moaned with tight lips, wetting his face to concentrate. "Why don't we pray, it'll make you feel better, make you less tight."

The lamps went out, leaving only one in the corner outlining Jungkook's profile. From his long oval nose, and swollen lips, from the dying steam.

So what if you said yes? If you intertwined your fingers while that monster attacked you. So what if you closed your eyes and tilted your head to Jungkook's lips to hear his spasmodic voice tell you to repeat after him.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee," he whispered, and you repeated, drowning in tears.

"Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus." You continued.

"Keep going."

The water began to splash out of the tub with each crash against your ass, his arm hugged your waist and your chest. Soft, wet kisses from your ear to your back.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners…” You squealed as Jungkook trembled, his moans creating an ethereal song in the barn.

Between his babbling, he mentioned God, you, and all the curses he could think of. It was the birth of a Mephistopheles among the hay and the horses.

"Now and at the hour of our death. Amen." You sighed as you felt your body fall into the water on top of Jungkook's. Your head on his heaving chest, the pulsing pain inside you withering.

Jungkook's heart sounded like the pastures where your memories lie. The warmth of his hand holding you closer to him.

You were angry with yourself because your chest began to hurt and oh, how stupid you were, how stupid your mother had been for having raised you among pretty things and so many compliments.

"I brought you strawberry jam and milk for the night. Tomorrow I'll bring better things." He muttered, hot and his voice raspy.

And oh, how dumb you were for wanting him to wear the same perfume again when he came back.

#—📃: an ewe and the captive bolt #bts imagines #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts x you #jungkook dark content #jimin bts #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin smut #jimin x reader

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gay-as-fucking-hell · 2 months

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Headcannons (NSFW) | Adela

Rating : 18+ (Minors and Fetishsizers DNI!)

Fandom : Path to Nowhere

Pairing : Adela × Reader

(If I missed any, please tell me and I will fix it!)

CW : NSFW, Begging, Body Worship, Hair Pulling, Marking, Mommy Kink, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Pregnant Sex, Scratching, Somnophilia, Teasing, and Transfem

Summary : My NSFW Headcannons of the character Adela from Path to Nowhere. This covers what role she plays in the bedroom, along with her kinks and her preferences.

Notes : This was made with a female reader in mind but it can be read as a GN reader and Adela is written as both AFAB and Transfem. Enjoy!

Adela's role in the bedroom is a Dominant Top. She's a mix of a Service Top and a Pleasure Dom. She likes being in control and gets very aroused by being the source of pleasure for her S/O and loves drawing multiple orgasms out of them. She is a hard top and doesn't like bottoming. The reason for this is tied to various parts of her past but it is mainly a tendency she has of putting others' needs before her own. She would try to bottom for her S/O if they really want her to, but Adela would have a really hard time enjoying it. Especially if her partner isn't getting any physical pleasure from it.

During love making, Adela notes every little detail about your body and the reactions she prods out of it. She's one to meticulously memorize every part of you till she knows your body and mind like the back of her hand. Its honestly scary how well she's able memorize you as it gets to the point she knows your body better then you do and can play you like an instrument, one of which she's mastered.

Adela prefers to use her own body on you rather than using sex toys. This kinda stems from a place of jealousy as she sees it as you getting pleasure from something that isn't her. She will use things like straps and blindfolds pretty often but other stuff, not so much.

Adela's finger game is god tier and honestly, it makes a lot of sense for her to be so good at it. Working as a hairdresser requires some pretty nimble fingers and when you take into account how long each digit is, it all starts to click. So yeah, don't be surprised when she uses them on you and you can't walk afterwards.

Adela is one to check-in during sex pretty often, especially if you're experimenting with something new in the bedroom. She just wants to make sure that her S/O is comfortable and not in any pain. If there is something wrong at any time, tell her. She wants her S/O to feel comfortable communicating anything with her, especially during sex. So if she finds out that you were uncomfortable or God forbid, experienced any type of unwanted pain, then she's going to beat herself up and worry you don't trust her or are even scared of her.

If this situation ever occurs, Adela will communicate her worries and ask if there was a reason you didn't say anything. She might look composed on the outside but she's crying, worried, hurt, and scared on the inside. Just communicate with her and everything will be resolved in a healthy manner.

Adela is one to have soft, sensual, and romantic sex with her partner, both slow and fast. She sees sex as a very intimate bonding experience so she usually isn't ready to have sex with her partner until 4 to 6 months into the relationship. First time sex with Adela is so tooth rottingly sweet, it's adorable. She's constantly checking-in with you, making sure you're as comfortable as you can be, with a lot of praising and kisses from her.

During sex, Adela has a tendency to maintain as much skin to skin contact with her partner as she possibly can. She likes being physically close whilst being intimately close, it's like her way of saying, "I'm doing this because I love you, not just for of the pleasure," She kinda struggles with showing her love and vulnerability so she makes up for it during this time. Sex is already so vulnerable for her, so she sees it as the perfect time to be even more vulnerable with you by pouring every last drop of her love and passion into it.

As I said, Adela enjoys soft sex but that doesn't mean she's not into rough sex. It depends on how long you've been dating and the amount of sex you guys have had. She won't bring rough sex into your relationship until a lot later, probably not until the 9 month mark. She'll bring up the idea to you and will proceed with it only if you want to. Even with your consent, Adela will still be holding back pretty hard as she's afraid of going to rough and hurting you. As the session goes on she'll ease up on her restraint and start going at you harder, but if you want her to cut the shit and get to it then a "Adela, stop holding back and fuck me properly already," should suffice. She'll still be holding back but she will be pretty rough with you.

When Adela does eventually let all of her self restraint go, she lets out her Overstimulation Kink. Remember how I said she's a pleasure dom? Yeah, I wasn't joking. Once she's comfortable with dropping her shackles of control, it's pure, non-stop, continuous orgasms. She'll have you so overwhelming fucked to the point your overstimulation will trigger overstimulation. There will even be sessions where Adela goes at you while you're floating in and out of consiousness or till you're on the brink of passing out. These are also one of the few times Adela will use a sex toy, that being a cockring. Her goal is to fuck as many orgasms out of you as she possibly can and a cockring allows for longer sessions by trapping more blood in her cock and making ejaculation harder. These sessions only take place on occasion though as her S/O is left pretty sore afterwards and there would be consequences if they occur too often.

Adela is huge on Body Worship. She genuinely sees her S/O as perfect in every way and wants them to know that, inside and outside the bedroom. If you have any insecurities about your body, wether that be scars, deformities, stretch marks, weight gain, infertility, body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria or anything else of the sort, expect to be bombarded with kisses, various love marks, uplifting praises, and gentle touches. She'll show her admiration through these means with passionate and loving sex or whilst simply holding you, which ever you prefer.

Has a HUGE Praise Kink. Adela is one to praise her partner a lot but absolutely melts if she receives any kind of praise from them. She finds it very reassuring and it eases her worries, so give her a lot.

Pregnant Sex is a definite yes for Adela. Even though I see her as one who would rather adopt a baby than make one, I can't deny that she'd love to have you while you're pregnant. Its probably the sweetest sex you'll ever have with her. She's just filled with so much pride and love that she can't help but want to softly thrust into you while caressing your swollen belly.

Hair Pulling is a kink that Adela found out she had after her S/O yanked her face into their shoulder while she was going at them from behind. Now, anytime her hair is messed with in a sexual manner it causes heat to pool with in her groin. There are even times when you're innocently playing with her hair and Adela will feel the familiar sensation of blood/heat rushing downwards.

She also finds arousal in messing with her partner's hair. As someone who works with hair, Adela has gained a unique fascination and appreciation for it. People use it as a way to express one's self and put great trust into another person to shape it for them. So being able to mess with her S/O's hair in a rougher way during sex fills her with euphoria and she sees it as huge show of trust. She loves being able to harshly grasp it, tangle her hands within it, stuff her face into it and maybe even lightly tug at it.

Scratching is another kink Adela found out she had because of her S/O. Being able to make you feel so good that you dig your nails into her flesh before dragging them across her skin fills her with so much pride and bliss. Burying your nails into her like they're talons and just gripping her flesh does it for her to. And the burning sensation that follows after feels so nice on her natrualy cold skin. She also loves the markings that are left behind. Seeing all of the red lines and welts littered on her body gives her a feeling security and fills her with love.

Adela enjoys teasing her S/O as it feeds into her Begging Kink. She likes hearing you beg and hearing how much you want her is a pretty big turn on for her. This kink kinda ties into some insecurities she has of her S/O leaving her after she allowed herself to form such a intimate relationship with them. It's reassuring to hear you begging for her affection and she correlates it to you saying you won't leave cause you need her.

Adela is very into Somnophilia. She originally used this kink to satisfy herself as she didn't want to bother her S/O. But now she finds herself taking them whilst they sleep to pacify her libido and because of how arousing she finds it. Remember how I said she'd fuck you till you pass out? Well if Adela's sex drive hasn't run out yet, she'll keep going at you whilst your unconscious until shes satisfied. Waking up with cum between your thighs becomes a regular occurence, along with waking up in the morning to feel Adela thrusting her cock/fingers into your cunt.

And finally, Adela has a Mommy Kink, I don't think I need to explain myself on this one.

Notes : And that's it! I may add headcannons if any more come to mind but this is all I have for now. Anyways, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.

#path to nowhere x reader #adela x reader #path to nowhere #female reader #sapphic #wlw #nblw #lesbian #heacanons

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supremechancellorrex · 5 months

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Avatar in my head and I was thinking about Maiko and Mai.

Now, Mai's character arc in Avatar, from my interpretation, is rediscovering herself and her wants and personhood that has been stripped from her as a noblewoman part of a family that submitted to the Fire Nation Imperialist structure and Ozai. We see in Book 2 set up for this. Mai in early Book 2 does not resist Azula's will aside from brief sparks of rebellion where she isn't present. "Of course not, Princess Azula" she notes formally and apathetically when Azula asks if she "minds", knowing she has no choice as Azula 'just' ponders if Mai's hostage brother is worth an Earth King like Bumi. Mai is always aware that Azula, as Princess in an authoritarian nation where the Fire Lord is God, can have her executed and her family punished. The unequal power dynamic is surprisingly consistent in the show.

Mai can't even insult Azula back in Zuko Alone as a child. She just lets Azula put an apple on her head (as Ty Lee loyally sniggers along), set it on fire, and when Zuko pushes her into the fountain to put it out, Mai, drenched, glares and says "You two are such… ugh". We know Mai can have an acid tongue, yet her fear of Azula prevents her from using it. Her most rebellious act in Book 2 is when she says "She can shoot all the lightning she wants at me. I am not getting in that wall sludge juice". Mai actually has self-respect, but she can't express it in the presence of greater threats, meanwhile Ty Lee merely says "Come on! Azula said we have to follow them", because Ty Lee follows Azula's will even when she isn't there.

Even when Mai gets with Zuko, she falls into a subservient role. When Azula interrupts Maiko's smooching, lazily dismissing Mai with "Oh Mai, Ty Lee needs help untangling her braid" Mai responds quickly "Sounds pretty serious" with only a touch of dryness and leaves, only able to muster throwing Azula a dirty look a split second after passing her. However, this little ember of rebellion will grow.

Mai has continued difficulty understanding Zuko's anger and reactiveness, or how to even function in a relationship. She initially tries to joke in a dismissive fashion, as if saying 'ugh, feelings are lame, right?', but that would only work with Azula logically. The Beach episode is a key Mai episode. She continues to be emotionally repressed, to the point Zuko, Ty Lee and Azula comment on it. However, Zuko's insecurity at her talking to Ruon-Jian to the point he physically removes him from her presence, and his accusative comments like "You like him, don't you?", also makes Mai feel a little boxed in, controlled, and that does irritated her given her history. However, at the Beach's emotional narrative climax, Mai is able to finally express herself at the rest of the group (Azula included) for the first time, telling them to "Leave her alone" and that she's "still mad". After Zuko explosively reveals the extent of his pain and confusion, we see a 'smoothing' effect on her attitude. She realises her and Zuko are dealing with pain in different ways and his way is understandable.

Mai says softly, "I know one thing I care about, I care about you". This is the one thing Mai can grasp in the confusion. This is where Mai betraying Azula becomes inevitable. We see Mai continue to be more supportive with Zuko, more actively trying to cheer him up in Nightmares and Daydreams with big smiles and jokes while Zuko remains shut down over the War meeting and is acting irritated and repressed due to his family trauma. When Zuko later leaves and joins the Avatar, Mai is hurt and angry, which shows in the Boiling Rock, saying "All I get is a letter? You could have at least looked me in the eye when you ripped out my heart". They have a tense conversation, but it's their most honest one. I actually think Mai already made up her mind in this scene to support Zuko over Azula, and she doesn't quite realise it. "Save it? You're betraying your country" she accuses, to which Zuko replies, resolute, "That's not how I see it", and in response Mai just folds her arms and turns her head away in an almost defeat.

I find it very telling she doesn't respond. It's because she realises Zuko is more passionate and resolute about his mission than she is hers. It's because she knows the Fire Nation under its current authority is not exactly great. Sometimes in life we fall into a box and we need someone to give us that little push so we can realise we can climb out of it, that the toxic space we're in isn't normal, and we don't have to tolerate it. I like to think Mai was thinking in that moment where Zuko locked her in the cell and he and she gazed into each others' eyes, what she was really thinking about was what life she actually wanted to live. She was thinking of Azula and being under her thumb, and she was thinking of all those moments with Zuko, like when they were lounging on the sofa together, smiling and joking in Nightmares & Daydreams, and she realised how ridiculous it was to be afraid of Azula killing her when the real fear should be being Azula's servant until her dying days, decades of repression and misery.

After all, what does Mai have left to fight for? Fear of Azula? Hah, what a joke. She remembers "I know one thing I care about. I care about you" and when she sees Zuko about to die she has to intervene.

"I guess you just don't know people as well as you think you do. You miscalculated. I love Zuko more than I fear you" Mai says to an increasingly-enraged Azula's speak of 'consequences', because Mai did fear Azula, but now in her love for Zuko she has found a purpose she has been lacking, her feelings and wants over Azula's will. Zuko being true to himself is contagious. Iroh's love for Zuko puts him on the right path, and in turn the love Mai has for Zuko saves her. As a consequence Ty Lee chooses Mai and their friendship over Azula's toxic, fear-based one and even later bonds with former enemies like the Kyoshi Warriors. Like Zuko says to Ozai, "an era of peace and kindness" will replace an "era of fear". In the face of fear, love and empathy win.

#avatar legend of aang #avatar last airbender #avatar mai #prince zuko #alta mai #zuko #atla maiko #maiko #princess azula #ty lee #can't wait to see them in the avatar live action #themes #good writing #character writing #romantic relationships #classism #imperialism

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bau-drabbles · 1 year

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haunted

emily, one of your close friends in the bau, comes back and after months of crying over her death you're not sure how to feel. it hurts the most when the deception also comes from aaron, the man you've loved for so long

a/n: idk how i feel about it. it's very rushed because half of it was deleted and i couldn't be bothered to go back and rewrite it properly.

aaron hottie angst again because his pain is so beautifully upsetting. kinda long so enjoy 🤍

part 2 :)

"everybody, have a seat" aaron's voice is more tense than usual, as if he was about to announce some bad news. your heart races but you walked in, grabbing a seat next to morgan. jj stands beside hotch and she looks almost worried, toying with her fingers. your brows knitted in confusion, wondering what was so urgent

"why, what's going on? everything all right?" spencer asked, his brow raised.

"seven months ago, i made a decision that affected this team. as you all know, emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with doyle," hotch began

"but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from boston to bethesda under covert exfiltration. her identity was strictly need-to-know. and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. she was reassigned to paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security" he finishes but there's pin drop silence in return. his arms had folded over awaiting a response but everyone was shocked to say a thing

your heart feels like it's plummeted at the bottom of the earth, the breath completely knocked out from your lungs. you hope someone announces its a big joke but hotch looks at all of you expectantly. jj has her head slightly bowed, unable to make any eye contact and its then you realise she knew all along.

"she's alive?" you didn't even think you said it out loud but aaron looks at you, his brows in a tight frown. you see the truth spilled on his face and it stings immensely knowing how he saw you in your vulnerable moments and still decided not to say a thing

he knew all along

"but we buried her" someone else says but at that point you completely blank out, sinking further in your seat. hoping the ground would swallow you whole and remove the burden crushing your heart.

"as i said, i take full responsibility for the decision. if anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me" aaron looks at you again but you don't bother looking in his direction.

all those times, every single tear, every second of sadness, all of it was.... fake?

"any issues?? yeah, i got issues-" morgan started, standing up towards hotch. but he doesn't go far for garcia speaks again. her eyes are brimmed with tears, walking quickly towards the door

"oh, my god" and you turn, unable to register the vision in front of you

"i am so sorry, i really am. not a day went by that i didn't want to...really, i... you didn't deserve that and i'm so sorry" the voice you thought you'd never hear again in this lifetime spoke. there she genuinely was, in the living breathing flesh. garcia grabs her in a hug and they share a tearful laugh about something you can't hear.

"there is so much i want to tell you guys and-and i will, i promise" the woman you spent crying in private about for weeks was now alive, like nothing had even happened.

garcia embraces her tight again and jj, morgan, rossi and reid followed suit.

it doesn't comprehend there she genuinely was, actually physically standing there. so many emotions had run through you, unclear of which one it was. all you can think about was her in your arms actively dying and you crying as you screamed for medics to come.

so you remained silent, while everyone had hugged her you stood just looking. unsure of what to feel, unsure over how to act. it felt foreign and you get lost in the reality of the situation, not realising she had made her way towards you

"y/n..." emily walked closer a smile on her lips but you couldn't reciprocate it. how could she so... nonchalanant about everything? those nights you spent crying, the nights your heart had felt so hollow in your chest, all of that burned in your mind.

the anguish, the pain, the guilt, all of it was an illusion.

and aaron, the man with whom you had trusted with your whole life glanced at you through the corner. he doesn't know what to say, what could be said? unintentionally he had lied to you, comforted you through pain that didn't even exist. he saw you vulnerable after her death, he was the one that pieced you back. and now it felt like all the parts he held together were coming undone.

"emily" you nod, a tight lipped smile on yours. even just being in her presence is enough to tip you over the edge so you distract yourself, holding the file. how strange, a mere seven months ago you two were the closest of friends.

and now you barely even knew her

"i-" she opens her arms slightly to embrace you but you open your hands to give her the information. touching her felt too soon, you needed some time to think.

"this is the file with doyle and everything going on with the kid. we don't have time to spare" you nod, quickly hand it to her and walk straight for the coffee. it wasn't caffeine that was going to help you tonight but it didn't hurt to try

•••

"hey..." morgan finds you staring blankly at the wall with the pictures, trying to find the next step in the kidnapping. and no matter how much you tried to regain your composure, it cracked piece by piece. exposing your facade and your true feelings behind the matter.

you were determined to keep a straight front for your team but every time you saw emily and jj and especially hotch, it felt like a challenge you weren't sure you'd win

"hey" you continue to take through the information, trying to piece the murder but there's so much on your mind it all feels like its vanishing in the air. like nothing is registering in your brain.

"hey" jj comes in and you stiffen up, quickly catching some files and exiting the room. she calls your name but you simply walk straight for the hallway. true, it was a childish thing to do but you couldn't look at any of them without the overwhelming urge to break down.

aaron, however, catches you in the hallway and you step back not wanting to even touch him, unable to look at his deceiting face.

"i know what you've been through. i understand that you're angry but i hope that you understand that this is not about you or me. this was about saving emily" his tone is sharp, firm but you see the hurricane of emotions in his eyes.

the most dominant being sorrow. but that wasn't enough for you, you almost wanted him to experience the pain you'd felt.

"why do you care about what i think hotch? it never mattered before, evidently" you match his tone in return, trying to go about him.

"y/n i know you're disappointed how we handled emily but it wasn't in our control, we couldn't say anything" he stops you and you don't even want to look at him, he knew how hard it had been on you. and he still didn't breathe a word of her survival.

"you couldn't or you wouldn't?? don't pretend to care what i've been through hotch. i came to you crying for weeks on end and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth. not fucking once. what did you expect? i'd hug prentiss and all would be well? give me a break" you scoffed, pulling away from him. he stood stunned for a moment, his brows scrunched in a confused frown

"i know and i understand-" "i don't think you do. we have a kid that's about to die hotch, now is not the time" you utter, glaring as you walked by him.

•••

the plane ride was silent, moreso than usual. you noticed the glances your team was giving you but as long as the job was done efficiently, there wasn't really anything to say, you'd talk on your own time. just you and your book was enough for now.

all that was interrupted when a voice cut in. a voice you thought you weren't ready to hear just yet

"declan is little shaken up but the doctor said he'll be fine" she smiled at you, eyes looking at you but you refused to make any contact

"good. we got there in time" you commented, turning the page.

"yes..." she taps her fingers on the table, unsure on how to continue the conversation. part of you hopes she walks away, not ready to listen to her just yet.

"well we're going to rossi's tomorrow night. i want to see if he really can cook. are you coming?" she asked hopefully, a small smile on her lips

"i don't know, i'm not so sure i can make it" you leaned your elbow on the armrest, continuing to read the same sentence until she left.

"look, l/n, i know you're mad at us because we didn't tell you what really happened, and... i understand that. but i promise you, we had no choice" she begins and she sighs a little before looking directly at you.

"you mourned one friend, i mourned seven" she chuckled lightly, trying to make you see from her perspective. but you couldn't, the betrayal rang far too loudly in your ears.

his especially

"it's not a competition emily" you put your book down, directly looking at her eyes. everything you had been bursting to say left your lips before you could even comprehend it.

"you didn't carry my coffin, you didn't cry over someone that was presumably dead. do you know how many times i was angry at myself for not doing more? i kept replaying that moment when i held you, near enough lifeless and completely covered in blood. and all i could do was beg you to breathe and stay with me. you didn't take medications because every time you closed your damn eyes, all you could see was your dead friend in her own blood did you? don't pretend we're the same emily, you have no idea what i went through" with every word, you could feel the anger boiling deep inside of you. the annoyance coursing through your veins like wildfire.

"you could've given us a hint, a sign, anything to indicate proof of life. but i had to hold the pain over your death for months. so forgive me if i don't want to go through that again" your tone was sharp, picking up your book back to indicate the conversation was over

"y/n i'm sorry i-" she began softly but you shook your head

"look emily, i appreciate what you're trying to do. really. and i'm happy that you're back but i need time and space too. i can't do this job efficiently otherwise. so please..." you indicated for her to leave and she reluctantly stood up, wanting to say a million words. but none of them seemed quite correct

you hoped no one would come and try to talk, just wishing this plane ride would end quickly and you'd be in the safe sanctuary of your bedroom

and for once your wish is granted

•••

the precinct was empty, dark and cold. replicating how you felt on the inside.

your bag was in your office and you hoped everyone was gone, you couldn't handle seeing their faces.

it was hard, because on the one hand your friend was back. you wanted to rejoice, and hug her so tight but the way it all happened... it felt wrong.

"y/n" and there it is. the voice you definitely didn't want to hear tonight

"aaron" you reply in response, turning around to face him. he looks dishevelled, almost as if he had to run to catch you back here. on any other day before, it would've made you fawn over his adorableness but it didn't stir a thing in you now.

"i know what i did was inexcusable. i know you're hurt, i know it could've been handled better. i realise that but you have to understand that this wasn't my order. if you had known, it would've put you in a compromising position too" he comes close until he's standing a foot away. his eyes are aligt with an emotion you've never seen him use before, pleading

"i just can't get over it hotch. i'm so happy she's back and under different circumstances i would've celebrated it. but i can't because you lied to me. for months and months" you want to fall in to his arms, to forget about everything that had transpired tonight but it would solve nothing. so you stay where you are, the ache in your heart growing by the minute.

"and for that i deeply apologise" before, this would have solved your problems. but now it felt like the gasoline added to the fire.

"you don't care about me aaron and i'm fooling myself if i keep pretending that everything is okay"

"i do y/n, i just need time. i just-"

"how much time?? how much longer can i be expected to wait?? how much longer can i pretend that you actually care about me-"

"i do care!" "oh you do?? you watched me cry for months. does that sound like caring? and you never want to progress further in this. how can i be with someone who doesn't care? emily coming back was just the icing. you'd use anything and anyone to get what you want hotch. you don't care about anyone, much less me"

"is that what you think of me?" he whispers, eyes narrowing at you

"it's what i know of you. from the moment i met you to now. i thought it was fine at first. but i can't do it. do you have any idea how.... hard it is to love you?" every word was a dagger to his heart, twisting and twisting until it was difficult to breathe.

"i'm done. i need a break. from you, from the bau, from everyone" you let out a shaky sigh, hugging your bag closer to your body. the man before you was your lifeline and now it felt like you were drowning in the depths of him. the only way to save yourself would be to remove yourself from his grasp, to pretend that he, your lover, never existed. he was aaron hotchner, your boss. he would never be the man you were so desperately and hopelessly in love with.

"y/n please don't-"

"i'm taking my holidays. don't contact me, don't find me. i just really.... don't want to see you ever" with that you stormed out of the room, away from him and his presence. away from his beautiful face you came to adore, away from all the memories you would forever cherish until your last breath.

but no amount of miles between you both could ever be enough

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction

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jaegeraether · 4 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 47)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (42) / Alexia Putellas x Character (11) / Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson Mini (4)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN put her hand on Alexia’s arm which broke her from her thoughts. They were standing out the front of the Captain’s apartment.

“She’s…like this. She’s not used to people helping,” YFN eased.

“She wanted me… go,” Alexia said in broken English.

“She didn’t want me to stay either and I’ve known her for two decades.” Alexia was still a little upset, but YFN was just glad Ridley hadn’t stayed with Ona at the bar. That would have been a mistake.

“She broke her hand…” Alexia trailed off.

It was aggressive, yes. But she knew Ridley, her intentions, what made her tick and what set her off. “She’s the most protective person I’ve ever met in my life,” she said softly. Alexia’s eyes met hers, curious. "We had a rough upbringing. She’s dealt with a lot of pain, physically and mentally. She’d never hurt anyone she loves…”

“I’m not scared of her…I know she wouldn’t hurt people. She’s very soft.”

YFN was interested at that. She never would have described Ridley as soft, though perhaps it was the language barrier. Alexia must of noticed because she clarified.

“She cares a lot about people…”

YFN nodded, happy that Alexia had seen that. “Yes. Yes, she does. She tries not to show it, but she really does.”

She saw Alexia tighten her hold around the teddy before she gave a smile and a hug to both her and Lucy before she left.

The ride home was silent besides the music but that was mainly because it was getting late, and YFN had an early flight. They were never happy parting ways. Lucy’s hand on her thigh tightened while YFN stroked the inside of her forearm. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it, a response from Ridley.

Riddles: *Sent a photo*

The photo was her hand in a partial black brace, wrapping around her wrist and two little fingers.

Riddles: Just a boxer’s fracture, same as usual.

YFN was all too aware of what that was, as she’d taken Ridley to the ER multiple times for it over the years. Having two black belts meant hard punches and broken bones. She was more concerned about her job though, as she definitely needed two hands for that.

YFN: And work?

Riddles: Off for a week and then I’ll be good with the movement and brace.

“Boxer’s fracture…” YFN murmured to Lucy.

“Oh, I know what that is.”

Of course Lucy would know. Her mind flashed to images of her boxing. “Have you ever had it?”

“Once. It’s painful but at least you’re not standing on it.”

“She’s used to pain, like you…” YFN replied and her hand found the scars on Lucy’s bad knee, tracing them with her fingertips in support. “Can I come and watch you box one day?”

Lucy grinned. “I’d love that. It can be pretty…angry though.”

“I know it’s where you get your frustrations out, love. I won’t distract you, I’ll just sit in the corner and watch you like a stalker.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Okay firstly, you’re always a distraction for me, but the best kind. And secondly, too soon on the stalker front.”

YFN chuckled and she leant over just far enough to kiss Lucy’s arm.

YFN: Are you going to let Alexia know?

Riddles: Do you have money on us or something?

YFN: You two are cute…besides the Ona flirting.

Riddles: What can I say? I’m a catch.

Ridley didn’t even try to defend herself because they both knew she hadn’t been flirting back. She’d just been herself. But herself was bad enough. She didn’t want to get involved in Ridley and Alexia’s unspoken thing, however she knew that if she were in Alexia’s shoes she’d want to know how she was.

Riddles: Before you message me again, yes, I will tell her. Safe flight and today was great, we should do it again soon.

YFN: Yes, please. Love you x

“If I didn’t know her, I’d be jealous you were flirting, looking at your phone all smiley like that,” Lucy teased.

“You know her, and you’re still jealous,” she teased back. Lucy pouted. “But it’s okay, I love you all jealous and moody.”

“God, Luce, it’s almost midnight,” she whimpered.

Lucy lifted her head, mouth glistening with excitement and eyes dark with lust. “Are you complaining, little one? I can stop right now-”

“No! No…I just…argh-” she reached down and grabbed her girlfriend, pulling her up on top of her until they were face to face, Lucy bracing her weight on her elbows. YFN dragged her head down and tasted herself on Lucy as their lips met and their tongues fought with groans and moans and excitement. YFN broke away but only for long enough to whisper. “No more teasing, just fuck me, Lucy.”

She reached down and grabbed her strap, lining it up while Lucy watched her face with wonder. She continued to watch her as she slowly rolled her hips and pushed the strap inside of her little Australian, enjoying watching her eyes roll to the back of her head and a moan escape her throat.

She leant down to nip her earlobe before whispering in her ear. “Yes, love.”

Lucy began moving her hips slowly in and out, and YFN could tell from Lucy’s ragged breathing and soft moans in her ear that it was rubbing her in just the right spot. YFN moved her hips with Lucy’s pace, intensifying the pressure of the strap on Lucy’s clit as she enjoyed the length of it moving in and out of her.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Lucy groaned as she fucked her.

Her heart melted. “Luce…I don’t want to leave either.”

“I want you to stay,” she grunted in between her thrusts.

“I want to stay…” she moaned in reply.

“You…argh fuck….you belong with me.”

“I do…” she whimpered. “I belong with you.”

Lucy’s mouth found her neck with passion, kissing and sucking marks into it. Oh, she was needy. She wanted to leave evidence she was there.

“Mine,” she growled softly in between the marks she sucked.

A shiver ran down YFN’s spine. One of her hands was in Lucy’s hair, the other unconsciously dragging fingernails up her back, gripping as she tried to hold herself together. Fuck, it was good. It wasn’t their usual rough, passionate fuck. No. This one was slow and steady, loving and emotional, hitting all of the right places. This was teamwork. Two lovers enjoying each other. YFN’s legs wound their way around Lucy’s hips as she braced her knees better on the bed to start a deeper, harder fuck. Lucy was still pulling out slower than usual, but she entered at pace, thrusting her hips and seemably enjoying the smack on her clit as their hips met with a wet slap. God, she was so wet. Even slowly, they could hear the sound of YFN’s dripping core. She could feel herself tightening the closer she got, Lucy’s glutes paying the price.

“Ah…fuck little one. Fuck you’re tight.”

At those words, YFN’s back arched and she whimpered, Lucy quickened her thrusts and the force in which she fucked her. YFN was a whimpering, moaning mess, clutching onto Lucy like a lifeline.

“Ah…ah…please don’t stop…Luce!”

“You’re mine.” Lucy growled as she again sped up. Fucking relentless, she was.

“I’m y…yours!”

At this point, she could only lay there, clutched to Lucy as she fucked her into the bed, getting her frustration out, her needs, her love, her obsession. YFN cried out her name as she came, Lucy fucking her through it and finishing shortly after. She slowed down until she was finished, undoing the strap and throwing it to the floor. Just as she was about to move away, YFN pulled her down onto her, Lucy’s sweaty body laying on her own as she held her there while they regained their breath. Lucy was the most out of breath, of course. Because it was late, it wasn’t long until they were sleepy, almost drifting off but just before they could, YFN spoke.

“Luce?” She whispered, just loud enough to hear. She wiped the sweat off of Lucy’s brow, pushing the hair off her forehead and tucking those little curly baby hairs behind her ear.

Lucy hummed in response, unable to speak as she hung in a space of lethargy and peace.

“I’ll never stop falling in love with you.”

YFN stared at the photos and couldn’t help the smile crossing her face. Lucy had posted several photos of their past few days in Barcelona together. The first, a picture on YFN half in the water that she didn’t know she’d taken. She remembered looking out over the ocean and it reminding her of home. The second was YFN and Narla having a nap together while Lucy had been making her monster of a sandcastle. Narla was laying flat on her side, her back pressed up against YFN, her head resting on her arm. The third photo was of course Lucy posing next to her sandcastle monster, little spade in hand and a proud grin on her face. Narla had photobombed that one. And the last photo was a selfie Lucy had taken from the bar that had herself, YFN, Ridley, Alexia, and most of the Barca girls in it also.

Lucy Bronze MBE: Love, love, love. *red heart emoji*

Lucy had also tagged her in her caption.

Her heart swelled and she bit her lip. Oh, Luce. She had never had someone so proudly showing her to the world, let alone someone with the amount of followers Lucy did.

Jordan Nobbs liked a post you were tagged in.

Alexia Putellas liked a post you were tagged in.

Caitlin Foord liked a post you were tagged in.

Caitlin Foord: Chickens *red hear emoji* *Australia emoji*

Katie McCabe liked a post you were tagged in.

Katie McCabe: Nice abs

Kyra Cooney-Cross liked a post you were tagged in.

Kyra Cooney-Cross: thanks for the invite

Leah Williamson liked a post you were tagged in.

Riddles liked a post you were tagged in.

Riddles: *fist emoji* *car emoji*

Keira Walsh liked a post you were tagge-

“YFN?”

Her head shot up and found Ruby, immediately blushing as she was just caught. She put her phone down.

“Hm?”

“We were just talking about the office space. It’s huge?!”

They were in their new office in London, and it was a decent size. There was a main, large room with individual desks and set up for everybody’s individual workstations, along with a kitchen, showers and bathrooms, and several separate conference rooms. Knowing exactly who ‘Joe’ was, she wasn’t surprised by the size of it, and just how much furniture and equipment were already set up.

“It won’t feel quite as huge when we have a few hundred people in here,” she laughed.

“A few hundred?!”

“I dare say we’ll be expanding pretty quickly.”

“What are the conference rooms for?” Bridget asked.

“I’m thinking we’ll have a roster and can use them for the groups we have for certain games. So you can meet as a team in there without disturbing everyone else, and we can book them for a certain amount of hours when they’re not being used for that.”

“Great idea!”

“Now does everyone have their car park passes?”

After confirming they did, they sat down for their meeting in one of the conference rooms.

“Alright, welcome, welcome to our new Lumos office. I hope you’re all liking it because it’s going to be home for a while. And as you’ll notice, we have each of the conference rooms set up for people to zoom in, as I understand we all live in different areas and travelling from Birmingham or Liverpool each day doesn't exactly make sense…however this week is an exception. I’ve spoken to you all about this and I’ll apologise again. We just need everybody in for the next three days because of the workload with the new staff starting tomorrow. You will all be paired up into your usual pairs and supervising the groups. Here’s our schedule for this week.”

She gave out their weekly schedule.

Liverpool vs Chelsea (Stamford Bridge, London): Sat 18th Nov 1330 – Bridget, Emily and YFN to supervise.

Everton vs Bristol (Walton Hall Park, Liverpool): Sun 19th Nov 1300 – Ethan and Daniel to supervise.

Brighton vs Arsenal (Broadfield Stadium, Crawley): Sun 19th Nov 1400 – Sam and Olivia to supervise.

Leicester vs Spurs (King Power Stadium, Leicester): Sun 19th Nov 1500 – Bridget and Emily to supervise.

West Ham vs Aston Villa (Chigwell Stadium, London): Sun 19th Nov 1500 – YFN and Noel to supervise.

Man City vs Man United (Old Trafford, Manchester): Sun 19th Nov 1630 – Matt and Ruby to supervise.

“Each pair will have eight crew onsite. Three videographers, three photographers, one interviewer and one editor. It’s your job as supervisors to make sure we’re using everyone efficiently to get the content we expect from so many people. Over the next few days, I’ll be very, very strict with the interviewers on techniques and questioning, and I expect you all to do the same with people in your field of work. We need to start off strong, having forty new people means that there’s room for error. We need to minimise that by ensuring we train the very well and we need to remember that we’re all still fresh and learning too. It’ll be an overload of information, but that’s why you will all be supervising for the first round. Depending on how we go, we may require supervision for a few rounds after, however we’re hoping to aim for that eight-person crew to be running smoothly without the need for the supervision.”

“What do we do if we think the interviewer is asking wrong questions or upsetting the players?” Olivia asked quietly.

“You immediately pull the plug. I’m going to want feedback from you all on all of the individual employees after your game, so we can make sure everybody is on the same page and the people who need extra time practising, get just that. Okay, we have just the one game on Saturday that Bridget and Emily will supervise with eight new staff. If I’m happy with our progress over the next two days with the new employees, then I’ll also attend and leave the rest of you to prep in the office for Sunday. Sunday will be all hands-on deck, full crews on every site as well as two supervisors. Our big game this week is Man City vs Man United at Old Trafford which Matt and Ruby are going to be running…”

YFN made sure she didn’t look at her phone again that day, and it wasn’t that difficult. She loved the logistics of her work. She and her original nine colleagues eagerly discussed their week ahead and brainstormed potential issues and how to overcome them. A few of them had to run down to get stationary, paper, whiteboards and more to fill the conference rooms with supplies and also just get through their day of exciting prep.

The next two days flew by, and the office already felt crowded, but in a good way. Like Javier’s bar. Everyone was excited to work and to learn. YFN had taken the time to get to know everyone prior to meeting them, thanks to the folders put together by Lumos management, and had split them into their groups where she thought it would suit them best. The planning and prep work was intense, but worked out to her satisfaction, even though her standards were high. YFN had even gotten permission from Chelsea to take her team out to Stamford Bridge to get to know it and so the individual teams could practise the best shots for photos, videos and more. YFN left them to their groups as much as she could, letting them work it out together and trusting the supervisors she’d put in charge. She spent a lot of her time at Stamford Bridge talking to Emma Hayes and her Chelsea coaching staff as they ran drills. A few of the players came over to say hi when they had a chance which was rare, because Emma was all over them.

Friday night came with expectation and nerves. They were in Lucy’s apartment with Leah’s stylists as Jordan hadn’t wanted to go to Leah’s place. Too many memories. Jordan and YFN had packed and enjoyed a road trip down for the night from Birmingham, planning on getting being naughty with some take out after the event.

“Oh my god, Ridley was right. This is amazing…” Jordan said as she exited Lucy’s spare room in her suit. YFN and Leah both spun around to Jordan who was now fully dressed and looking unreal. It was a feminine suit, but the first piece of clothing that actually fit her. The accessories were minimal, a silver bracelet, two rings and a simple ear cuff. Jordan’s hair was up, already done by the stylist and her suit perfectly matched Leah’s with its style.

“Are you comfortable? Ridley said you’d want to be comfortable…” YFN said.

“Ridley?” Leah asked.

YFN had explained who Ridley was to Leah previously, though it hadn’t stopped her jealously.

“She picked this outfit for me in Barcelona with YFN,” Jordan grinned, still proud and looking down at herself. “And she was 100% right, I’m very comfortable.”

Leah sighed, standing as she was just finished with her hair. They took a few photos together and they matched so well that YFN had to take a picture to send to Ridley.

Riddles: I said thank me later. It’s later.

YFN: Jordan said thank you for saving her life.

Riddles: I know a few ways she can make it up to me…

YFN: Put it away, Riddles.

Riddles: Aw, you’re no fun. I could pick her up and throw her all around the bedroom.

YFN rolled her eyes, ignoring the last message as Ridley knew she would. When Jordan asked what she’d replied, she only told her the first bit.

They all rode together in a blacked-out, chauffeur driven car and as they got closer, YFN was getting nervous to be alone for the photographs. Jordan felt bad, but she was Leah’s plus one after all. YFN wouldn’t have let her anyways. She was staring at her scar in the window of the car as they arrived, feeling a little self-conscious. Her mind was on Lucy, like it had been since she’d left Barcelona two days ago. Two days and she was already too drained at the feeling of aching without her. Jordan leant over and kissed her cheek, snapping her out of it.

“Just get past this and we’ll meet you inside,” she said before she got out.

Leah put a hand on her knee before she followed. “You look beautiful,” she said with a genuine smile.

YFN followed them. She focussed on the photographers watches and hands instead of the cameras, just as Leah had taught her to avoid being blinded by the flashes. She looked ahead of her and saw them together, their arms lightly touching each other’s backs for the photos. They looked beautiful and what’s more, they were both smiling as if they were together, as if they were happy, and YFN could tell it was genuine with the way they looked at each other between photos.

Once inside, she took a deep breath and the first glass of champagne that came by her. Leah and Jordan found her immediately, the three of them laughing about the aggressiveness of the photographers shouting outside, and the amount of celebrities inside. It was during their third drink to settle their nerves when they were approached by the last person YFN wanted to see.

“I didn’t realise they invited so many women to the Man of the Year award. A bit sexist, isn’t it?” Mark asked.

YFN saw Leah go stiff as she saw him. She hadn’t noticed that the last time they’d met him together.

“Women can’t show up in support for men?” YFN asked.

“You’re not here to support men,” he said, hard. “And I saw your latest little post online, YFN. You and Miss Bronze are going strong, are you?”

“Our relationship has nothing to do with you.”

Over her shoulder, her eye was caught by the sight of William and Catherine arriving to a multitude of camera shutters, blinding flashes and shouts of excitement. Her stomach dropped. She didn’t know she’d be here.

“It just makes it easier for me to prove your conflict of interest,” he shrugged. “But I do hope you had a wonderful time in Barcelona.”

“It was fantastic, thanks for the well wishes,” she replied, purely out of spite.

He didn’t seem to care as he’d already turned to Leah. “And it’s very interesting to see who you chose for a date tonight, Miss Williamson.”

Leah’s jaw locked. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? I warned you-”

She stepped forward and cut him off. “My lawyers have sorted it. You don’t have anything to threaten me with anymore Mark. Leave.”

He smiled down at her. “You really think that is going to stop it just…slipping out? I can’t help a leak…”

YFN had no idea what they were talking about and from the looks of Jordan, she didn’t either. Mark looked at Jordan and his eyes went down her body and back up.

“Keep your fucking eyes to yourself. Leave.” Leah snapped. Leah never snapped. Jordan’s eyes widened.

“It’s a bit hard to when-”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she warned.

She was standing half in front of Jordan which made YFN think it possibly had something to do with her. He stared at her a moment longer, enjoying the look on her face that was anger and potentially worry, when his attention was caught by something behind YFN.

“Ah, and as if to prove my point.”

A warm hand touched her lower back lightly and the smell of vanilla and bitter orange overwhelmed her as Lucy stepped past and protectively in front of the group. Her hand slid around her hip as she stepped past and took YFN’s hand, holding it behind her and linking their fingers. Lucy. Lucy was here. Lucy. Her body relaxed as she stared at the back of her perfect girlfriend with a look of surprise.

“She told you to leave.”

Mark gave a smirk and opened his mouth but was stopped by Lucy lifting a hand. “Uh uh. Don’t speak. Just fuck off.”

Mark looked like he wanted to argue before his expression changed to something along the lines of apprehension. She couldn’t see Lucy’s face so she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to get that reaction, but she loved it. She put her other hand on top of their already clasped hands in support. Lucy squeezed her hand. Without another word, Mark left, though not without throwing another glance Leah’s direction. Watching him go, YFN caught someone’s eyes briefly lingering on their little exchange in the distance. Catherine. They both looked away.

When he was at a safe distance, Lucy turned, her features shifting from intimidation to adoration as she saw YFN staring at her wide-eyed and unbelieving. She reached out with her free hand and touched one of her dimples lightly. They shared that unspoken word before her hand lowered and she looked at Leah.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Leah responded, her jaw locked.

“Hallo mate!” Jordan beamed and threw her arms around one of her closest friends. “You came!”

“You knew?” YFN asked.

Jordan pulled back, a little sheepish. “I didn’t know for sure. So, you found a flight then?”

Lucy looked at YFN. “Ridley helped me.”

She could have sworn her heart grew twice the size at the thought of Ridley and Lucy helping each other. She had hoped they’d get along and it was slowly coming to fruition.

She couldn’t help but look at what Lucy was wearing. It was an all-black suit, a well-tailored one too, and from the look of it, she was almost certain Ridley had something to do with that also. It was all a similar black besides the button up which was slightly darker and open almost halfway, exposing her neckline down to the space between her breasts, her black bra a little on show. And then there were the accessories, the rings, the necklace, the studs, the cufflinks. 100% Ridley. Lucy noticed her looking and gave a wink, doing some admiring of her own. She stepped closer so their bodies were against each other. They matched.

“Are you going to at least tell me what that was about?” Jordan asked, her focus on Leah.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Are you joking, Leah?” Oh, Jordan was upset. “You want me to start trusting you again, but you can’t be honest about something that obviously involves me?”

Leah’s eyes closed as she battled with herself. Jordan didn’t wait to see what eventually won out. She turned and walked away, towards the canapés.

YFN went to follow her, but Lucy was first. “I’ll talk to her.” She murmured and gave her girlfriend a lingering kiss on the cheek before she followed her, their arms outstretching to hold each other’s fingertips a little longer as she went.

YFN tore her eyes from Lucy and looked at Leah whose eyes were following Jordan. “Leah…you’re going to have to tell her eventually, otherwise I guarantee he will.”

“I know.”

“So, start with me, and only me. What was that about?”

“I need a drink.”

YFN linked her arm through Leah’s. “Come on then.”

Leah held onto her tight as they wandered to the bar. “It’s about a sex tape.”

158 notes · View notes

raitonsfw · 4 months

Note

I always get so excited when a new account is made, I'm constantly on the hunt for sweet Nagito writing. Can I have sfw headcanons of Nagito with an s/o who loves baby-talking to him, and is into a little ageplay? (mommy dom). They're very verbally & physically affectionate and utterly love praising him (also love calling him pet names like precious, pretty, beautiful, baby boy, dove, angel, my hope, etc.). You can add nsfw hc if you want to, and as for gender, gender neutral (although, if you want a specific gender then female pls). Ofc, you don't have to write this if you don't want to. Thank you! 💗

synopsis: A requested variety piece of baby boy (sfw & nsfw) headcanons of Komaeda Nagito.

warnings: (sfw); pet names, gift giving, compliments, pining, cuddling, a bit of insecurity regarding his talent. (nsfw); pet names, blowjob, begging, desperation, praising, mommy kink.

a/n: i do apologize, it’s not necessarily ageplay, except for the nsfw bit. i tried to incorporate it into the sfw section but my brain turned off on me haha. but i do hope you enjoy it nonetheless! i love writing his character sm, he’s literally my main hyperfixation character in danganronpa atm. wc: 1.2k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

𝚜𝚏𝚠

~ nagito’s absolutely obsessed with you, like he’ll bring you little gifts from the beach he found to give to you (like a penguin), and he’ll present them to you with a grin on his face waiting for you to accept the treasures (this time, a white conch shell) which you do with open palms, a soft praise dripping from the corners of your mouth, ‘it’s beautiful just like you’ or ‘it matches the rays of hope you speak of, my love’; he’s so lucky to have you.

~ sometimes he wonders how you were so well made for him, nothing seemed to phase you, as well as his talent which didn’t even come close to touching you, not even remotely smothering you with bad luck; it was like you were an angel sent for him from the depths of his hell.

~ you never thought anything of it, just happy to finally have found someone that you could shower with affections and affirmations because God knows he needs that constantly, with his belittling self-esteem.

~ you tend to watch over him in every way you can, because due to his luck cycles, he can get hurt from the slightest thing, like that time he tripped over a rock and scraped his knee or that other time when you yanked a little too hard on his precious hair as you brushed it out for him, cooing a tiny ‘sorry, my little dove, it won’t happen again’ into his ear as you soothed his pain, and he’d grin up at you in thanks with that aloof smile you fell in love with.

~ he was your baby boy, you couldn’t bear to be away from him for too long, just like him who would sulk around whenever he wasn’t with you, wanting nothing more than to be held by you– cuddled in your embrace with a blanket wrapped around the both of you.

~ he wanted nothing but your doting kisses upon his flushed cheeks, wanted nothing but your sweet muses whispered into his ear, telling him that he’s enough, wanted nothing but you next to him, always and forever.

“Nagito love, you’re doing just fine.”

“I don’t feel like I am.”

You kissed the top of his forehead, letting his head fall more into your chest and he pouted up at you, promptly asking for a kiss, which of course you obliged happily. “My darling, don’t think too much about it.”

He huffed into your shoulder, burying his face there. You threaded your fingers into his hair, playing with the tangles that intertwined the locks and you hummed to yourself as you felt him relax underneath your touch. He loved your touch, the stress seemed to melt away from the crevices of his mind whenever you were around him, taking care of him with a soft expression on your face.

“I’m here for you always, you’re my hope after all.” You reminded him, your voice firm with affection. The viscosity of the word had flown in all directions as he talked about it for hours on end. It was so enchanting to you and you delivered it back to him on multiple occasions, my hope. The first time you said it to him, he nearly bawled from how delighted he was to be called something so jovial.

“Will you still be here when my luck falters?” He asked with a curious tone, looking back up at you and you captured him into an endearing kiss. He returned it, holding onto your waist in a tight embrace. You traced imprints into his skin, tiny hearts and squiggles drew from your fingertips and he welcomed it with contentment.

“Always and forever.”

𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠

~ when he’s not being doted upon in the midst of public, it’s brought to the bedroom, the intimacy still holding strong when you make him lay on the bed with the quiet phrase, ‘on your back for me pretty’ and he has to try so hard not to get too excited, but the poor thing’s harder than you could ever imagine.

~ ‘mommy’ll rid your clothes, okay? No need to do anything yourself, gonna take good care of you.’

~ nagito’s whole demeanor breaks, like he basically short circuits as you slide off his clothes with nimble hands, nothing but the cool air hitting his skin and the utter warmth of your breath sinking down onto him. he’s resting by the near edge of the bed now, his knees pressed up against your cheeks as you take good care of him, whilst whiney ‘mommy’s’ are flowing from his mouth, the only time he ever really gasps for breath.

~ he’s also fond of your appraisal in bed, perhaps even more than you think. he’ll beg for the way your fingers wrap around him all to hear ‘such a good boy’ when he moans out in hazed pleasure, seeking more and more with every desperate thrust into your hand.

~ when he cums, it’s quick, he always cums so fast when he’s with you, like its too much for him to take, but you always coax him through it, the intimacy pouring from you lets him know that you enjoy this too, enjoy watching him fall apart, enjoy being his caretaker in the darkest of nights and the brightest of days, enjoy being his mommy praising the angel that he is-

~ and you sometimes have to calm him down, from the sheer intensity of his excitement, he tends to behave more like an insolent child who wants more candy. he’d plead for you to kiss him, touch him all over, praise him, need him, need him more than anything else, and you’d do everything he asked of you; because he’s your baby boy and how could you ever say no?

His thighs pressed into your cheeks as he grinded into your mouth unintentionally, the warmth getting to him. Nagito just couldn’t stop moving and you huffed out a bit from your nostrils, pulling away from his cock that had been nestled deep.

“Baby boy, please stop moving for me.” You asked politely, rubbing his outer thigh with a free hand. You rested the other against his waist, rubbing circles in order to soothe him as he twitched against you. “You’re doing so well for me, but you have to stop squirming.”

“M’ sorry.” The words came out of his mouth quicker than you expected, flowing with desperation and apologeticness. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

You took him back in your mouth and his fingers clutched the loose strands of your hair, pulling with fervor. You moaned around him and he bucked up in the heat of your mouth again, a quiet whine hitching in the back of his throat. You pulled off slightly, but as you did, you heard Nagito plea and his hands trembled in your hair.

“Please, no! I’ll be good, don’t stop please, please-” He panted out, pushing your head down slightly and you pinched his thigh with a wistful groan. “I’m so close, please mommy…”

How could you say no when he was so close, so far gone, you surely could give him what he begged for, couldn’t you? You sank further your mouth onto his cock, tongue lapping at the base and he came instantly, a string of whimpers flying from his mouth.

You couldn’t praise him then but when he came down from his high, you were sure to shower him with love with ‘such a good boy for me’ spilling from your lips as you wiped off his cum from them.

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦#𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ✧#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa x you #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito x you #nagito x y/n #komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #danganronpa smut #komaeda smut #nagito smut #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

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