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theonewiththefanfics · 10 months

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Homecoming (one-shot)

Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.

Set after the main events of BG3

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping

Word count: 8397

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)

A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.

A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.

He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.

“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”

“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.

“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”

Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”

“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”

The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”

Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?”

Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.

But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”

Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”

Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”

“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.

She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.

With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.

They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.

Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.

The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.

Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.

“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”

“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.

Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.

Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.

The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.

Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.

“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.

“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.

“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”

“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.

“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”

“I don’t hate people.”

“I don’t count.”

“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”

A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”

His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.

She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.

“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”

Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.

“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."

“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”

He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”

When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”

“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”

Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”

His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”

She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.

Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.

The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.

It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.

It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.

It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.

Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.

There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.

Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.

“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.

“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”

“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”

As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.

Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings. Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.

Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.

She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.

Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.

“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.

Good. Let them be scared.

“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”

But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.

For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.

The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.

Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.

A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.

“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”

“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”

“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”

Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”

“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”

Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.

Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”

"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.

Astarion.

They were Astarion’s parents.

Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.

Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.

What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.

“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”

They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.

In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?

Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.

She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.

“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”

“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”

“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”

Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”

In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.

“He is.” Y/N nodded.

And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.

By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.

Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.

By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.

His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”

Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.

“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”

“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”

Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.

She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”

Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”

“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”

Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.

He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.

“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”

A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”

“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”

“Which means?”

“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”

So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.

Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.

It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.

He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?

“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”

Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”

His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”

“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”

Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”

“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”

“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”

And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.

It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.

She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”

She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.

“I think I want to see my parents.”

Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.

Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”

“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.

She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”

“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.

The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”

Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.

The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.

“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”

His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”

“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”

“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.

“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”

Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.

“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”

And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.

“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.

“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”

“But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”

“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”

Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”

Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”

They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.

As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”

But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.

They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.

He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”

Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.

Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.

The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.

It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”

Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.

Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.

Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.

She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.

“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”

Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.

“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”

She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”

Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.

“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”

Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”

“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”

“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”

“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”

When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.

“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”

Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”

“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.

“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.

“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”

His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”

Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.

His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.

It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.

The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.

Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.

An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.

“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”

It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.

As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.

“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.

Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”

When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.

As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.

Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.

Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.

When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.

He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.

Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.

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fushic0re · 2 months

Text

❝FROM THE START❞

Toji Fushiguro x MamaGuro!Reader

𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ╮the five times toji realized he loved you; in which you take in the black sheep of the zenin clan.

𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 ╮familial abuse (this is the zenin clan after all). hardship. trauma. a very wounded toji. pregnancy.

TOJI WAS NOT SURE IF HE EVER HAD A LIFE TO BEGIN WITH.

But if he had to say when he thought it ended, his answer would be at six. Toji’s parents were said to have struck gold. His father was next in line to be the clan head with two strong and healthy sons by his side. His elder brother Jinichi did not possess the Ten Shadows, but he was talented enough to outlive any scrutiny from the family–besides, he was a son and not a daughter. On the eve of the new year, Toji welcomed the Zenin clan compound with his screams. All eyes were now on the newest Zenin, seedlings of possibilities planting themselves in the very soil the little one’s feet touched. Seedlings that would never grow.

On the eve of another new year and Toji’s fifth birthday, one that was meant to be celebrated greatly, there were no signs of cursed energy manifestations. Winter gave way to spring, which then gave way to summer until summer faded into fall, and fall into winter. As the seasons changed, Toji did not. By his sixth birthday, the clan elders officially declared that Toji had zero cursed energy–a Heavenly Pact, they called it. A first in jujutsu history. At six years old, Toji Zenin became the shit stain of the Zenin clan. At twelve, they started throwing him into the disciplinary pit to fight curse after curse with nothing but his bare fists. His parents never blinked an eye. He was sure they were hoping not so secretly that one day, he would never come out.

At 20 years old, he left. Like a thief in the night with nothing but the clothes on his back and a knapsack of food he managed to store away, he left the gates of the Zenin compound. Not a single trace of him was left–not that anyone cared. Time meant nothing to him. For what could have been months or years, Toji lived like a wild animal. He slept on the streets when he was not serving as a bedwarmer for women who were too soft-hearted or too desperate. They fed him, but when the currency his hulking physique and rugged looks provided him ran dry, he ate scraps. He rarely bought food with the money pitiful strangers tossed at him, but one cold day led him to a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop.

It was a small little place that hardly sat ten. The kitchen was cramped, but the aromas it produced were heavenly. With his meager earnings, the lone wolf bought himself a steaming bowl of ramen that he devoured at a speed that he would find embarrassing had he maintained his dignity. No one acknowledged him. For once, he was just another face in the crowd. Toji’s emerald eyes rested on the empty porcelain bowl in front of him, mocking him unforgivably. With a bitter expression, he glared at the bowl. He wondered how far down he had spiraled into the abyss of nothingness that was his life to end up in these circumstances–a simple household item reminding him of everything he was not. Since day one, his bowl had run empty with no one to fill it.

Until you.

Toji’s train of thought is interrupted when one of the owners, an elderly woman with a withered face and silvery wisps for hair, places another bowl of steaming tonkatsu ramen in front of him. His hard eyes meet hers.

“I didn’t order this.” He states gruffly.

Despite his harsh expression and soulless delivery, the elderly woman’s features melt into a warm expression.

“That girl at the end bought it for you.” She says giddily, discreetly pointing a bony finger in the direction of his benefactor. “A real sweetie. She’s a regular.”

He tracks the elderly woman’s finger. His eyes narrow as soon as they land on you. He did not appreciate pity in the slightest. Just as he is about to open his mouth and tell you off, his stomach rumbles. The sound prevails over the clanking of utensils, garnering the mystery woman’s attention. Not expecting to be caught, she gives Toji a sheepish smile before snapping her head back around to bury her nose in her book. Toji finds himself at a crossroads. If he ate the bowl, he owed her. If he did not, he would be wasting the rarity of free food. Once again, his thoughts are interrupted by another elder–the old woman’s husband. His fists knock on the table just as he appears before Toji, and a kind smile is on his face.

“Son, just eat.” He jests before disappearing.

Toji scoffs with a roll of his eyes. Old people could never mind their goddamn business, it seemed. But as he stared at the bowl of ramen for the umpteenth time since it had been placed in front of him, an unfamiliar feeling stirred within him. He gave you an unsuspecting glance from the corner of his eye, taking in every feature from the slope of your nose to the shoes on your feet. His eyes could not remove themselves from the warmth in your eyes. With that, he picked up the soup spoon and took one big gulp of creamy broth. He let the heat of the soup envelop his body the same way your eyes did.

For the first time, his bowl was filled.

THE STORM HAD KNOCKED THE POWER OUT.

You did not know what woke you first–the severe gust of wind that sent branches flying against your window in a repetitive fashion or the bone-chilling drop in temperature the second your heater shut off. You tried your best to ignore it, curling up under your covers as you pathetically warmed yourself with your breath. It was when your shivers escalated into violent shivers in a matter of minutes that you knew something had to be done. Tearing yourself out of the safety of your blanket cocoon, you scurried to your kitchen as quietly as you could in search of emergency candles. Maybe if you lit enough, they could act as some semblance of a fireplace. To your detriment, the clattering of your teeth was enough to wake the slumbering wolf in your humble living room. Your eyes widen the second you hear the familiar creak of the cushion springs, whipping around to face your impromptu roommate.

“S-Sorry. It’s really cold, s-so I thought I could light some–” You frantically gesture to the cabinet of candles you had opened, the cold freezing your brain in its poignant state of desperation. “You know. To help maybe.”

Toji lets out a quiet huff. From where you are standing with one candle lighting the space, you can barely point out the smirk on his face,

“Don’t be sorry. It’s your apartment.” He mutters, his voice gravely from sleep as he rubs his tired eyes.

Thanks to his heightened senses, he could see you perfectly. You were in your usual pajamas, ones that worked against you in this weather. With your bare feet on the cold tile, as you shivered, you looked endearingly pathetic. He scoffs.

“C’mere.”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I’m o-okay. You should sleep.”

Toji lets out a deep sigh, sitting upright on your futon.

“Come here.” He repeats, this time more firmly. “You’re freezing, your pajamas are thin as shit, and the power is out until god knows when which means we have no heater.”

You’re going to get sick is what he means to say. I can’t bear the sight of you in any state of suffering.

When you hesitate again, loudly sighs again, patting his lap audibly.

“I won’t be able to sleep with all the fuckin’ teeth chattering, sweetheart. Stop being stubborn.” He grumbles.

And with that, he stands up and strides towards you to grab you with the stealth and agility of a panther. You could not help the squeal that escaped from your mouth the second he effortlessly scooped you up and swooped you right under the covers. He was right. The second Toji curled his brawny body around yours, your shivers began to decrescendo. His heat melted your stiff muscles until you fully surrendered, intertwining your body with his.

“Shit. You’re freezing.”

“Sorry.” You squeak, snuggling closer to him.

“Stop apologizing.” He mutters, flinching ever so slightly as your cold feet brush up against his calf.

The gesture wills you with embarrassment.

“Sorry.” You squeak again.

“Christ, woman. I told you to stop apologizing.”

“....sorry.”

Toji dignifies your antics with a chuff that carries a hardly noticeable laugh. Closing his eyes, he nuzzles his nose against the top of your head, flooding his senses with the smell of your signature shampoo. He is not used to this–affection. Holding someone. Someone holding him. He finds himself having to squeeze your frame impossibly closer to his to convince himself that this experience is real.

“Stop it.” He murmurs against your head, his voice the softest you have ever heard.

Closing your eyes, you rest your head in the crook of his neck. You fit right in there like a missing puzzle piece.

“Okay.” You whisper, conceding to sleep.

“TOJI?”

It is some ungodly hour when he abruptly sits up in bed, his body coated in a layer of cold sweat. His eyes are enlarged as he scans the room, his orbs frantically darting in every which direction. His heart pounds rapidly against his ribs, his bare chest rising and falling at a quick pace. He is numb, unable to feel a single thing as his brain transports him back to that place. That god-forsaken place. Since the two of you began sleeping in the same bed, his night terrors diminished into nightmares until they ceased altogether. For once, just once, Toji thought he could outrun his past. But just like the scars on his body, darkness was ingrained in every fiber of his being. It ran through his bloodstream, pumping into his heart and fueling every move he made. He was stupid to think he could live a life like this with you. People like him simply did not belong in the realm people like you existed in, so good and so pure.

“Hey,” You whisper, rolling onto your side to face him. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Your voice feels like the sun. Not in the way it gets in your face and makes your eyes sting to the point where all you want to do is get away from it. No, he could not run from you. No matter how far he got in his head, he simply could not.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. You got work in a few hours.” He rasps.

He pulls you into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of your head. Like clockwork, he grounds himself with your touch–skin against skin, your heartbeats creating a rhythmic cadence until ultimately his own slows down and thumps in tandem with yours. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“It’s nothing. Sleep.”

You cannot help but frown. It was hard whenever he got this way. You did not mind, of course, that was not the problem. It was watching him wrestle with himself in his head until he was numb again. It was the vacant look in his eyes. Whenever Toji broke, a part of you did too. If there was a way to physically pour love into him until he was bursting at the seams, you would–anything to never see that lifeless expression again. Sitting up, you reach for his face, cradling his jaw in your palm.

“Don’t say that. It’s not nothing.” You say gently yet sternly. “The things that hurt you aren’t nothing.”

Just like that, Toji feels like that seventeen-year-old kid again who desperately craved approval and a sense of belonging in a system that actively worked against him just because he needed to feel something. You disarm him not in a way that makes him feel scared and defenseless, but in a way that assures him that he is no longer in a state of survival. Unless it is for you, his days of fighting are over. Even then, he was very capable that you could hold your own as a Grade One. Yet still, if he had to bloody his first for anyone, it would be for you.

“I was back there again.” He says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes soften.

“You’re not there anymore.” You assure, running the pad of your thumb across his cheekbone. “You’re here–”

“You don’t get it.” He snaps “I can’t change shit. No matter where I look, I’m back there in that fuckin’ hole.” “You. Are here. With me.” You state firmly, cupping his face with both hands now and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You escaped. And now you get to forge a new path for yourself. It’s not going to be easy. You’re going to have a lot more nights like this, but the difference is you’ll have me. No matter how much you try to push me away because you think I don’t get it just because I grew up in some ‘cushy’ sorcerer family, you can’t push me away. I’m not going anywhere.”

Toji clenches his jaw. A part of him hated when you were like this, blindly believing every conviction that came out of your mouth. It was downright painful. In these moments, he could not bring himself to believe you.

“This is just the way it is.” He mutters defiantly, turning his face away from you as he clenches his fists at his sides.

Your heart feels like a stake has been driven through it when your touch makes him flinch. But now is not the time to lead with her feelings. He needed you. you meant every word she said.

“I am promising you that. My cold, dead body is gonna have to be pried away from you to get me to leave you.” You shakily whisper, trying your best to keep your emotions at bay as his pain causes your body to react viscerally.

He does not answer you, continuing to avoid your gaze. The only sign that he had not gone catatonic was the way his chest began to heave. He was losing it.

“Toji…look at me.”

He remains frozen in place. A tense silence builds between the two of you, threatening to force the two of you apart until you are too far gone to be retrieved. For the first time since you naively welcomed the then-homeless stranger into your home, you felt scared of him. The grave distance is closed when he finally meets your gaze, a wild and terror-filled expression in his eyes–the same one he wore the day you met him.

“You and me. When shit gets tough, we’ll fight through it. If you don’t want to fight, I’ll fight for both of us. No matter what, we’re doing life together.” You breathe, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Toji remains silent, simply staring at you with an unreadable expression. Finally, his hands stop shaking and he unclenches his fists, resting them on your cheeks. The warmth of his palms makes your eyes involuntarily flutter shut.

“You’re gonna get sick of me.”

Your response is a mere shake of the head.

“I’ll get sick of you not wiping down the counter after you brush your teeth or wash your face. Or when you don’t put the dishes away right when I ask you to.” You laugh softly. “But sick of loving you? Never.”

That earns a throaty chuckle from him. Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against yours.

“I’ll give your bossy ass something to complain about.”

Before you can retort, his lips are pressed against yours. This kiss is a far cry from the passionate, sensual, all-consuming kisses you both usually share. No words need to be said this time. His lips imprint unspoken locutions of ardor and besottedness into yours. I love you. I’m sorry I’m a fuck up. I don’t always have the right words to say. Please.

That night, Toji surrenders.

HIS NAME WAS MEGUMI. THEIR BLESSING.

Regardless of his gender, that is what he was to Toji–his saving grace.

The two of you hadn’t exactly planned on having a baby so soon. It was about a year after you and Toji’s small intimate wedding that you found yourself feeling…off. Fatigue was the first symptom to make itself apparent. No matter how early you slept, your body still fought against you whenever you were awake. Then it was the hunger, which amused your newlywed husband. Funnily enough, Toji decided to take up cooking to mitigate your sudden appetite increase. Your condition was obvious from that point on. Nine days before Toji’s birthday and the new year, Megumi was born. Just like his daddy when the two of you were wed, Megumi took your last name–Fushiguro. Just like that, the three of you were a little family. As Toji held his newborn son in his arms, he realized that he had done it. He forged a life of his own from the darkness you pulled him from.

And it’s moments like this in which the first thing he sees is his son’s big green eyes staring up at him in the middle of the night that he realizes how much of a test fatherhood was. He runs a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes before he places a finger over his lips as he agilely slides out of bed. He glances over his shoulder to check if you are still asleep before effortlessly scooping Megumi up into his arms and quietly exiting the bedroom.

“What’s the matter?” He murmurs, his sonorous voice raspy from sleep.

Megumi is quiet for a moment, the five year old rubbing his eyes with his small fists. He hangs his head low.

“I keep seeing them.” He says quietly. “Can’t sleep.”

Toji frowns, his large hand smoothing over the back of his son’s head.

Not too long ago, Megumi began to see curses. The two of you were prepared for the dreaded day he would, you could feel your son’s cursed energy develop little by little until it was suddenly surrounding him like a forcefield. Your reaction to the matter was much different than the Zenin clan’s–you were scared, terrified even. Megumi’s cursed energy manifesting meant the possibility of him becoming a jujutsu sorcerer was officially established. With that came the painful realization that you could lose your child at any moment. It was a refreshing experience for Toji to witness; healthy parenting, the love of a mother. He could not even bring himself to be surprised that you were such an amazing mother. After all, you had amazed him in all aspects of life.

“Do you want to go back in there?” Toji asks nudging his head towards Megumi’s room.

The toddler ponders for a moment before shaking his head, his eyes apprehensive. Toji does not question him, simply nodding and making his way to the kitchen. A quiet silence makes itself home between father and son as Toji prepares a warm cup of milk for his mini-me. Once the drink is ready, he gently places Megumi on the counter and hands him the cup.

“Careful.” He says, his eyes swimming with concern as they take in Megumi’s appearance thoughtfully. “Talk to me.”

Megumi takes a cautious sip, testing the temperature of the creamy beverage before drinking it more freely. His lips press together, and a million feelings that he cannot describe run through his head.

“You and mama see them too right? The…curses.” He whispers. “When did you stop being scared of them?”

For a five year old, Megumi was quite insightful. His perception skills were exceptional yet amusing when paired with his childish and innocent wonder. Hearing such a small voice ask questions beyond the scope of a child still gave Toji a whiplash.

Toji lets out a noise that is akin to a laugh and a huff, shaking his head ever so slightly as he does so.

“Who says we’re not?” He answers much to Megumi’s–whose eyes are now wide with shock–surprise.

Toji struggles to find the right words to say. This was usually your thing; he was never one to console with the power of words. No, to this day, he still finds it easier to fight his way through conflict. But then there is Megumi staring up at him with his eyes, fear and trepidation tainting the usual sparkle in his eyes in a way that reminds him of himself when he was this age. His son had everything he wanted for the majority of his life–the very gift that could have saved him a world of hurt–and was still being subject to the ugliness of sorcery.

That is all it takes for Toji, who is now a father and not a fighter.

He washes the violence away with a warm sip of milk from a sippy cup that is so small in his hands that it is borderline ridiculous and uses his once bloodied hands to cradle the small, precious being that carries his heart against his chest. He shields this boy with all his life the way he himself should have been, carrying him to the couch for a cuddle.

“Remember how mama and I showed you how to summon your dogs?” He whispers, wrapping an arm around Megumi as he settles at his side.

Taking his tiny hand, he situates it into the correct signage. Megumi looks up at him for assurance before his Divine Dogs are loyally at his side, their cold snouts nudging him happily. The toddler giggles, wiggling around with the excited canines. Once they have settled down, curling around him protectively as they snooze, Toji smiles down at him and presses a tender kiss to his forehead.

“Whenever you’re scared, your pups are here for you. You understand?” Megumi nods, now content. Toji is silent for a moment, at a loss for words yet again but for a different reason this time. He’s overwhelmed by emotions, ones that he cannot even name. He blinks his eyes, abruptly pulling the toddler on top of him so he could wrap his arms around him tightly.

His child. The one you gave him.

All you have ever done is give, and give, and give until you gave him the greatest gift of all.

“Can’t breathe.” Megumi murmurs against his dad’s chest.

“You’re fine.” Toji whispers, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re fine.”

It was fine. Everything was…fine.

Finally.

“WAIT, FUSHIGURO IS YOUR LAST NAME, SENSEI?”

You have to press your lips together to hold back your laughter as Yuuji and Nobara stare at you with shocked and bewildered expressions, Megumi unphased yet exhausted by the antics of his friends. Toji barks out a loud laugh from behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“She makes the money around here. Might as well.”

“I think you’re doing great, Mr. Fushiguro! Feminism!” Yuji cheers exuberantly, turning to Megumi and Nobara for approval only to be met with perturbed expressions.

“Then get a job.” Megumi grumbles.

Toji simply kisses his teeth, removing one hand from your shoulder to ruffle Megumi’s hair. The teen hurls out a string of disciplinary phrases, only amusing his father who smiles smugly in return.

“Your mom doesn’t want me to work. She thinks I’ll cheat on her. So possessive.”

The gasp that immediately leaves your body is dramatic enough to land you a role in a soap opera. Your husband only directs his smug smile to you now, gazing down at you with the familiar playful yet fond expression he has maintained for a decade now. And just like it did exactly a decade ago, it irritates you to no end.

“You’re easily bought. I know that firsthand.” You quip.

“You were eager to buy this hu–”

“Please not this again.” Megumi laments.

Nobara and Yuji stare at Megumi with expectant expressions. If they had tails, they would definitely be wagging expeditiously. Toji claps Megumi on the back unnecessarily hard, making him glare at him for the umpteenth time in an hour.

“Oh come on. You didn’t tell them how your mama and I met?”

“Why would I tell them that?”

The two young sorcerers respond with a clash of loud pleas and declarations of camaraderie, how dare Fushiguro withhold this part of his upbringing for them, haven’t they gone through enough together?

Toji’s hands knead your shoulders. He bows his head, nosing the top of your head. His eyes flutter shut, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest.

“Let’s just say I loved her from the start.”

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro angst #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader

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readsaboutreid · 2 months

Note

Could I please request a sunshine! Reader who's a friend of Penelopes, and she goes to drop off some baking for Pen when she asks Spencer for directions to her office, he's a stuttering mess and the reader offers him a cookie as thanks for his directions. And she tells Pen about the cute guy and so she ropes Morgan into setting them up?

YES YOU CAN this sounds adorable and i love it pure fluff and baked goods coming right up! i hope you like it this is my first request and i'm kinda nervous

pairing: Spencer x sunshine!reader

contains: pure fluff, adorable flustered Spencer, another blink and you'll miss it Buffy reference

Lavender Roses | S.R.

Spencer sat at his desk, the stack of folders on it feeling as though each time he completed one another one is added. He takes a deep breath and leans back, taking his glasses off his face to massage the bridge of his nose. Most of the time he was glad to have a slow casework day but for some reason today was crawling by.

He placed his glasses back on his face and turned to resume to his work before he heard a soft voice. "Excuse me?" He swiveled in his chair and found that in front of him stood possibly prettiest person he's ever seen before carrying a couple of small plastic tubs. She was smiling slightly at him, her eyes sparkling even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bullpen. She wore a long-sleeved black dress with a white collar and a flared skirt and a pair of black Mary Janes. "Hello?" She asked again.

His eyes widened slightly and he remembered that she had been about to ask him something so he cleared his throat. "Oh, hi! Uh, m-may I have you? Uh, help. M-may I help you?" Spencer shook his head and nearly slapped his palm to his forehead but managed to refrain from doing so. His cheeks burned as he met her gaze again and was met with a smile so sweet that it would have made his knees buckle had he been standing.

"Yes, actually!" She responded, her smile growing wider. "I'm looking for Penelope Garcia's office? I need to drop these off for her." She held up the boxes, which upon further inspection held an assortment of cupcakes, brownies, and cookies in the very top one.

"Oh, oh yeah ! It's just, uh—it's r-right over—just turn around and—," he stammered, his cheeks burning more and more with each failed attempt to organize his racing thoughts so that they'd come out of his mouth fluently instead of in the word jumbles he was currently producing.

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but you said you're looking for Penelope Garcia?" Derek Morgan swooped in, rescuing Spencer from further embarrassment. "Her office is right this way, I can take you to her." He flashed her one of his smooth smiles and placed a hand on her arm as he began to turn her in the right direction.

"Oh, thank you!" She said gratefully. Before Derek could lead her away she turned back to Spencer and opened the top container, lowering it in front of him. "Here, have a cookie as a thanks for helping me!"

"B-but I didn't even—," he began before being shushed by her in a joking manner, her index finger landing a mere centimeter in front of his lips.

"Uh-uh! I will hear none of that nonsense," she laughed, making his heart skip a beat or two. "You were kind to me so take a cookie."

"O-okay, if, uh, if you insist," he gave a nervous laugh of his own as he reached his hand in and grabbed the first cookie his fingers met. He quickly withdrew his hand and met her eyes once more. "Th-thank you!"

"You're welcome, handsome!" She chirped before letting Derek lead her to Garcia's office, leaving Spencer silently kicking himself for fumbling that interaction so thoroughly. He took a bite of the cookie and was met with the most amazing tasting treat he'd ever had as he went back to working on the pile of folders on his desk.

"Thank you for showing me to Penelope!" (Y/N) thanked the kind man, who had introduced himself as Derek Morgan. She had heard endless stories about him from Penelope so it was nice to put a face to the name. "What, no cookie for me?" He joked, right as Penelope opened the door.

"She better not give you one! These are for my party tonight!" She said immediately.

"Oh, it's fine, Pen, I made like 30 of these things, not to mention the brownies and cupcakes. Plus, I already gave one to your other coworker so it's only fair, I suppose," she opened the top container, allowing the man to pick a cookie.

"Thanks gorgeous," he winked and walked off, taking a bite of the cookie. "Mmm these are delicious!"

They walked into Penelope's office and she closed the door behind them as (Y/N) set the containers down on one of the few surfaces not littered with papers and/or computer equipment. Once her hands were free she hugged her friend and they began catching up. Eventually, (Y/N) couldn't help but ask about the young brunet agent with whom she had shared her first encounter.

"So Pen, who was that tall, handsome agent I met earlier?" She asked, feeling her cheeks burn as she blushed lightly.

"Oh, sweet cheeks, stay away from him! He's mine," Penelope joked back, nudging her friend lightly with her elbow.

"Oh no, not him. He was nice but before he led me to your office, I had asked another agent where to find you. He was younger, wearing glasses, closer to my age, and he had what looked like the softest brown hair and he got all cute and flustered," she gushed to her friend, not taking a single breath until she had finished and took in a large gulp of air.

"Wait wait wait, are you talking about Reid?" Penelope laughed, her hands flying up to her mouth. "Skinny guy, about 6'1", dresses like he shops with my grandpa?"

"Hey, I like the way he was dressed!" (Y/N) responded with a playfully indignant tone. "He looked very cute if you ask me. Truth be told that's why I offered him a cookie!"

As her friend was leaving, a plan started forming in Penelope Garcia's mind. Once (Y/N) was through the glass doors and in the elevator, she rushed over to Derek Morgan, sitting at his desk and working on a case file.

"Derek! Derek, I need to talk to you," she panted, slightly out of breath from her hurrying. "Come to my office with me." The two went to her office where she shut the door and hurriedly asked, "tell me about what you saw between (Y/N) and Reid!"

"Is that your friend from earlier, baby girl?" He asked, tilting his head to the side with an amused smile creeping on his lips.

"Yes and she spent about 20 minutes gushing over him, Derek," Penelope laughed. "She is smitten and their interaction couldn't have been all that long. So, tell me, you beautiful man, what. Did. You. See?"

"Okay, okay!" He put his hands in the air and gave a good natured chuckle. "She walked up to him and got his attention, he fumbled asking her if he could help her with something, she asked how to find you, and he tried to tell her but it sounded like he was about to have a stroke so I stepped in and offered to show her to you. She offered him a cookie as a thanks for his effort and then we went to your office."

"Nothing else?" She pressed, trying to get every last bit of information that she could.

"Uh, she called him handsome, I think?" He added, trying to sneak a second cookie but being met with a slap on the wrist from Penelope.

"Okay so I have a plan," she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in closer to Derek. "But I'm going to need your help."

Spencer sat in the café Derek had told him to go to, a single lavender rose in front of him. He had been told to look for a girl wearing a light purple beret, but no such girl had arrived in the 15 minutes he'd been waiting. He checked his watch while his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Why had he agreed to a blind date in the first place? Logically he knew Derek wasn't like the kids he went to school with growing up, he would never intentionally hurt his friends like that, but a part of Spencer's mind was telling him that this was all some elaborate prank that all his coworkers would be laughing about on Monday.

In the midst of his thought spiral he failed to notice that someone had approached his table until he heard a soft throat clearing from in front of him. He started and looked up, his cheeks turning a soft shade of red as he met the twinkling eyes that have been plaguing his thoughts for the passed week.

"Dr. Reid?" She asked with a hopeful look on her face. "I don't think we were every properly introduced the other day. I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N). May I join you?"

"Oh! Uh, um, s-sure! Please do," he stuttered, realizing that she was wearing a lavender colored beret that from the looks of it was handmade with a lot of care. "I, uh, I'm Spencer." He smiled at her as she sat across from him in the empty chair.

"It's nice to officially meet you, Spencer," she responded with a soft giggle that made Spencer feel like he was about to melt.

"I, uh, I brought you this," he told her as he reached for the rose in front of him, reaching his hand out over the table to hand it to her. Her cheeks tinged an adorable shade of pink as she reached for it.

"I don't know if I've ever seen a rose this shade before," she whispered, twirling it around in her fingers as her eyes widened in awe.

"Different colored roses carry different meanings," He began explaining his thought process behind the particular color he had picked for her. "Lavender colored roses usually represent enchantment, admiration, and carry an air of mystery or mysticism, so I figured it would be a perfect color for the first time meeting you." He felt his cheeks burn as he finished his explanation.

"That's incredibly sweet of you, Spencer," she smiled at him softly, reaching forward to put her hand on top of his. At this point he swore his heart was going to explode. "And even though we've technically met before it also has the added benefit of matching my hat quite well."

"Yes, yes it does," he smiled back as a warm feeling bloomed and spread throughout his chest.

"So what do the other colors of roses signify?" She asked, tilting her head and listening eagerly with the very same smile that had made him tumble head over heels for her during their first encounter as he began explaining each and every color of rose and their multitude of meanings. Not once did she roll her eyes or sigh from boredom. As the night drew on and the conversation flowed Spencer knew that a lavender rose was indeed a perfect choice since what they really symbolized was love at first sight.

#criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #sunshine!reader

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forlix · 10 months

Text

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth.

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies.

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.”

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost.

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place.

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?”

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead.

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too.

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

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giddyfatherchris · 2 months

Text

a movie i've seen before II

pairing. bang chan x f!reader

type. angst (-y ish)

warnings. none

word count. 3k

a/n. part two is here! again, i am so excited to be posting this series and so grateful for the lovin you guys have been giving it <3 hope you will enjoy mwah xxx

do not forget to tell me if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series :)

part I

The next day was a recording and producing day, one of your favorites. You loved being in the studio with the boys. It was fascinating to see how their minds worked and created such extraordinary pieces of music. Despite the previous night and the disappointment it brought you, you were determined to have a good day, and push aside any personal feelings you might have. "Hi guys," you said as you entered the small room with full hands.

"You brought us coffee!" exclaimed Changbin as he scurried over for his usual. You smiled at the muscular boy and greeted Hyunjin, Han, and Seungmin already ready to work on a song.

As you sat on the couch next to Felix, you handed him his cup of coffee with a smile. He returned a thankful one before he sipped, extracting a sigh of delight from his lips. "How are you feeling today?" The question seemed innocent, but you could decipher in his eyes the ounce of worry.

"Good. I've decided to move on, and put my personal feelings aside," you whispered, making sure no one else heard you. Felix gave you a little nod of agreement, proud of you for taking this step.

The recording finally started and it was only 45 minutes later that Chan appeared clad in his usual baggy black attire, his natural curls peeking out from his hat. You pushed down the little butterflies taking flight in your stomach with a steadying breath and focused on your computer.

"Hi guys," he joyfully greeted everyone. He quickly checked on the members to monitor where they were, but when he noticed you, a sweet smile spread on his lips. "Hey, didn't see you there."

"Hi," you quickly responded, trying to keep your interactions at a minimum.

He stalked closer to you, noticing the empty coffee trays and the cups everyone had in their hands. "No coffee for me?" he pouted.

"I knew you'd be here late because of the time you finished last night, so your coffee would have been cold." He seemed to notice the curtness of your interaction and started to turn away, that horrible pout still on his plump lips. You rolled your eyes at his childish display and hated yourself for the words about to leave your lips. "But, I did get you a breakfast burrito. I knew you probably wouldn't take time to eat."

You extended the food in his direction, rolling your eyes as you saw the excited grin on his face. He wiggled in your direction, grabbed the roll, but held onto your hands with his eyes deep set on your own.

"You're truly the best."

You nodded with a tight smile, praying he'd stop holding your hands and looking at you like that. He went to his chair but kept glancing at you with a satisfied smile as he ate breakfast.

You glanced sideways at Felix, who was already staring at you and Chan with a shocked expression. He lifted his brows as he looked at you, and you sighed.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

For the rest of the day, Chan's behavior was insufferable. He was only being his usual caring, nice, and funny self, but since your goal was to stop wanting to barf butterflies whenever you saw him, any interaction felt like a jab to the throat. It didn't help that he seemed determined to get you to forgive him for missing out on last night. You waited with anticipation for the day to be over. All you needed was to go home and take a well-deserved break from Chan's intoxicating personality.

Once done, you headed out of the building with Felix while updating him on the situation.

"Yeah, I noticed it too. I think he feels really bad. You are one of his best friends."

"Aouch," you winced.

"Sorry," he muttered with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

"It's okay. I know you're right. He's not doing anything special. It's just that when I'm trying so hard not to harbor certain feelings towards him, it makes it harder."

"I imagine, and... I might have told him last night that he messed up. So I'm guessing that's not helping either." He reluctantly admitted.

"Felix! Why did you say that?? Of course, he's now ten times worse."

"I'm sorry!" squealed your friend as you chased him down the building. You made it out on the street, still trying to hit him, when a familiar voice said: "What did he do again?"

You both turned to face Chan waiting with the other boys before heading home. You dismissed his worries quickly and gave Felix a look of warning.

"Alright then, I'll head home. Have a good night, guys." You waved goodbye and turned away from them when Chan trotted to you.

"I'll walk with you."

You gave Felix a panicked stare as he was whisked away by the others.

"That's not necessary Chan."

"No worries, I have an errand to run in the neighborhood." He explained with that beautiful smile of his.

Unable to find a proper excuse to refuse his proposal, you started walking home together. You talked about work, music, past travels, about anything really. It had been a long time since you had such a fluid and captivating conversation with someone. You both were two long-date subscribers to the 'overthinking club' so it felt nice to chat with someone who also had a never-ending stream of things to say or question. Once you arrived at your building, you felt a pang of disappointment as you caught yourself wishing to have more time together.

"Well, this is me." You stood there awkwardly, not quite sure how to end this, but after a few seconds in silence, he looked at you with uncertainty. "Do you have anything planned tonight?"

"You mean apart from watching a Netflix series?" You chuckled. "Nope."

He looked around, hands in his pocket before suggesting with a little smirk. "Wanna come with me to the store?"

And even though your preservation instinct screamed at you not to, you said yes.

The errand went well and you decided to stop at a corner shop to get some food. It was so easy to spend time with him. He kept making little jokes, and there were never dull or awkward moments of silence. He walked you home for the second time and even went up in the building, saying it was his responsibility to bring you home the proper way. He waved you off before you closed and slid down the heavy door to silently scream.

You checked your phone to see the eight notifications from Felix demanding updates. I'm in deep shit. Was all you texted back.

When Chan returned to the dorms, a small smile still on his lips, he didn't expect his Aussie brother to wait for him in the common room.

"Your errand ran long?" cautiously asked Felix.

Dropping his bag on the ground Chan answered, "No, I walked her back. Then she came with me to the store and we decided to get something to eat. It was great; we talked a lot about the coming Paris trip. I told her about my favorite spots and we'll try to visit them while we're there."

"Wow, you must really feel bad for missing her night, uh?"

Chan froze and looked warily at his friend. "I do, but I also happen to just really enjoy her company." He was a little insulted by the insinuation that he would only do this out of guilt.

"You enjoy her company?" kept questioning Felix.

"Yes? Don't you?"

He stepped closer to him, there was something in his demeanor that Chan could not pinpoint, but made him uncomfortable. "Of course, she's my best friend, but that's all she is to me. Is that all she is for you too?"

"I- you know I don't have the time for this, as amazing as she is..."

"Then stop what you're doing." Felix's voice was harsh. "Stop what you're doing Chan. You're only going to hurt her. Don't tell me you can't see it."

With a dumbfounded expression, the leader looked at his member with furrowed eyebrows. "See what?"

"You know."

"I-"

"Chan stop. You're being mean."

"Do you seriously think she likes me?"

Felix hesitated before answering. Teared apart between wanting to respect your privacy, and wanting to protect you in any way he could.

"I don't know. I'm just saying be careful. If you know you can't give that kind of relationship to someone, don't toy with their feelings."

And just like the previous night, Felix disappeared, not without giving his older brother a look of warning. He had to get away before he kept blurting shit out and made you truly hate him. Chan watched him leave the room, questioning and rethinking every little interaction you had that day.

The following days were spent in a haze for him. Every time he saw you, he started analyzing your behavior, trying to find out if maybe there was something more for you. But it was hard to say when you were being so bubbly and affectionate with all of them. Oddly, he noticed you seemed to keep a bit more distance with him. It gave him a strange feeling, not because he thought it was weird you might have feelings for him, but because he hated not getting hugged by you, not having you bringing him little surprises as you did for the others. A feeling was settling down in the man's chest, one quite foreign to him: jealousy.

Not a week later you were all heading out for the Paris trip. The energy was at an all-time high as you made sure the boys were getting settled. You had just sat down on the plane when Chan plopped in the seat beside you with a big smile. You looked at him with a tense one, "I think Lix was supposed to sit next to me, we wanted to watch a movie."

The oldest member, without losing a second leveled you a knowing stare, never breaking his own smile. "Oh yeah, he asked me just before to switch seats. He wanted to sit next to Jeongin."

You looked at your best friend who was shooting you an apologetic look. You didn't know how much of it was true, but you would need to have a chat with that little traitor. You schooled your annoyed expression in a tight smile and took a calming breath.

Alright, so it would be Chan for a few hours.

You were flying to Paris because the boys had been invited to perform at a prestigious gala. You were incredibly excited, especially since you couldn't wait to see the famous city. Despite your worries, you spent the flight chatting with Chan about their schedule for this trip and when they would have the chance to play tourists and explore the city to their heart's will. Smoothly, the conversation evolved and he ended up showing you thousands of videos of Berry from home and even rested his head on your shoulder when he fell asleep during the movie you started together. You couldn't help, but make sure he was comfortable. You almost smacked yourself when you realized you had been looking at him like a fool. You shook your head and focused on the movie while telling yourself this was only normal behavior for Chan. He would have done this with any of the members. You were nothing special to him. After a while, you felt him reposition his head comfortably before he asked what he had missed. You thought he might sit back up, but he stayed right where he was. As comfortable as it was, this was so dangerous for your heart. You tried mentally burning the butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the flight.

You landed a few hours later and headed for the prestigious hotel you would be staying at. As fun as this trip was, it also meant you would need to be on top of things for its duration. You were responsible for the boys. Making sure they would get where they needed to be and were in tip-top shape to perform once the time came. You were also their translator since you spoke French. Easily, you fell into your rhythm of assistant manager. Which coincidentally helped you forget about the handsome boy walking next to you.

Once they were all settled in their rooms you breathed a little easier. One of the most stressful parts was done. Now, would be the time for organization, tomorrow would be rehearsals then free time for them in the evening. The next would be the actual gala, which would mean getting up very early, getting ready all day, performing on the night, and enjoying the after-parties. That would be the most draining day for you. Still, you couldn't help, but be excited at the prospect of the following days. You loved the adrenaline, you loved seeing the boys perform, and you loved to know in some way you were a part of their success.

For your first night you all decided to eat out as Felix and Hyunjin insisted on bringing you to a certain restaurant they peeked at earlier. You ended up eating delicious French cuisine until you were so full the walk home felt like a sports event. Unsurprisingly the boys collectively headed for their respective rooms as soon as they got to the hotel. The perspective of staying up a minute longer felt like torture, and they did need the rest you reasoned as you lightly pushed Changbin in his room. As for yourself, you took the time to answer a few emails and make sure the itinerary for the following days accounted for each possible scenario. Satisfied with yourself, and not feeling a tad bit tired, you decided to go on a little stroll around the luxurious hotel to end up sitting down by the pool your feet dangling in the warm water. The night was silent and there wasn't a single soul around. You breathed gratefully the French air, once again struggling to grasp the reality of where you were.

You were caught up in your thoughts when the sound of the pool's gate made you jump. Hands clutching your chest you looked at a startled Chan.

"Sorry! It's only me." He joined you by the poolside quickly dipping his legs in the water next to you with a satisfied groan.

"You're supposed to rest Chan." You lightly scolded him. Lord knows he was one of the boys who needed the most rest, although he was the one it eluded the most.

"I know, but I can't. I keep thinking about tomorrow. Everything needs to be perfect."

You sighed and looked at the ripples your soft movements created in the clear water. "Everything will be perfect. You focus on yourself, and make sure you are rested and having fun on that stage. Everything else is handled. I made sure any possible outcome has been covered. Nothing bad can happen."

He turned to look at you with a soft smile. "I know that we are in really good hands. We're really lucky to have you."

"Kiss ass," you muttered with a chuckle. You tried playing it down, but each word leaving his lips made a satisfied warmth spread in your cheeks.

"Hey, I'm serious!" he nudged your shoulder with his, attempting to make you smile again. He always wanted you to smile.

His words truly made you appreciated, but somehow your happiness couldn't be complete as a small voice in the back of your mind reminded you you were nothing special and he was probably saying all those things out of guilt. "You know you don't have to be this nice to me just because you missed my celebration night. It's okay Chan, I know you were suddenly inspired and needed to work on it. It's okay." All warmth disappeared from your cheeks as you once again focused on the water.

He looked at you with his mouth open. Your sudden declaration seemed to surprise him before it turned into something sour in his eyes. You didn't know it, but it reminded him horribly of what Felix had said.

"Y/n, I would never be nice to you just because I feel guilty. I do feel incredibly stupid for missing your big night and I will never apologize enough about it. But, I'm nice and like being nice to you because you are an amazing person who works very hard for us and who I admire a lot."

You kept staring silently at the water, unable to answer.

"And about your night that I missed because I am a horrible person. I want to make up for it by inviting you out tomorrow night with me. We can go eat in a good restaurant and I'll show you those spots I told you about." He looked at you as he talked, but you couldn't find it in yourself to do it in return. "And I am NOT doing this out of guilt. You deserve to be celebrated every day, and this is my way to make up for it. And I would have loved to do this with you anyway, okay?"

"You have rehearsals all day today, you will need your rest," you muttered.

"Oh come on Y/n, everybody knows I’m a night owl anyway. And I promise we’ll come back early." He added with a little army salute.

You reflected on his proposition, torned between wanting to scream yes or refuse in order to protect your heart.

He searched for your gaze, softly calling your name until you couldn't keep a serious expression anymore and giggled.

"So, is that a yes?"

Your eyes met his shining ones with a smile. "Yes."

He clapped satisfied, and got up, lending you his hand. "Ready to get some rest now?"

You nodded and grabbed his strong hand. He took his time before releasing yours to open the gate and even then you felt the shadow of it on the small of your back.

Maybe this was a bad idea but in what other instance would you get the chance to spend precious time like this with this man you liked so much in one of the most beautiful cities in the world? So, even if this was going to break you, you decided you deserved to at least taste paradise once.

🏷️ list : @lovesunshinefelix @luvstaymin @jupire @nebugalaxy @drewsandsebastianswife @httpdwaekki

#ilya writes #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin skz #i.n skz #stray kids requests #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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smuttysabina · 9 months

Text

"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

#smut #kpop smut #ive smut #rei smut

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yzzart · 10 months

Note

Could you do a piece where snow forced reader to dress more conservatively and change her hair (cut and style) compared to her normal look and clothing?

"𝐀𝐧 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞."

pairing: president!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

summary: Coriolanus didn't just change him but he also changed you.

warnings: mentions of unhappiness, explicit words + take a look at the masterlist!

word count: 1.024!

notes: here it is, anon! and i think it was too long 😖 but i'm satisfied with this work, enjoy it and i hope you like it!

The one in the mirror, truly you?

That question, a confused inquiry, had compromised itself in your mind; with no intention of simply disappearing and leaving you alone. — A lump of embarrassment and imposition formed in your throat.

The image of a woman wearing cautious, at one point even intimidating, and, extremely, expensive clothes was trapped in the huge mirror. — The fabric of the white pigmented dress was very well prepared and dedicated, accompanied by some divine pearls; it would be cruel to touch them. — Jewels around her neck, giving her an air of purity and elegance.

Her posture was honorable, drawing attention from discreet and daring glances; a lucky woman who everyone wanted to get their hands on. — Being the reason for fights and threats between compromised souls.

That wasn't you, but at the same time it was. — That conservative, intimidating style would never be used by you on a casual day or for your good will; your chest would never feel comfortable in such a garment. — You would never feel comfortable with that whole situation.

However, your loved one admired that change in you. — Such a drastic, sudden and radical change that Coriolanus brought to his life; which he dedicated with love and care.

Coriolanus changed everything in his chest, and perhaps even in his soul, throwing that poor, rotten carcass somewhere no one would find it. — And when he saw the chance to change you, you sweet, naive girl, Snow wouldn't let it fall through his fingers.

All the best articles of clothing in the Capital were in your hands, gifted by Coriolanus. — It didn't matter the price, if countless hands were spent producing that fabric, he wanted to see you using it; independent of all. — And you made a point of making him satisfied, happy.

Even though you hated with all your strength, which was so fragile and delicate, that image that was beginning to be built in you; thinking deeply about your old image, about how you really were. — Your chest was tearing, burning and wanting to destroy every bit of that glass that witnessed his current reflection.

But, Coriolanus loved you that way. — He was so pleased.

"Here you are!" — Upon being mentioned, mentally, Coriolanus's voice echoed through the modest and cold room; coincidentally, like him. — Making your thoughts disappear, as if they never existed and didn't bother you.

Wanting to see him, you directed your head towards the door and came across those deep, vigorous eyes, which were once dreamy, staring at you. — The expression of pride formed on Coriolanus's fascinating face; a face that you are sure was carved by blessed souls.

Coriolanus admired you, agreeing how that dress, personally chosen by him, hugged your body in an exquisite way; you were perfect. — If he had the opportunity, even though he has and could snub her, Coriolanus would keep you for his eyes only.

And that spark of thought, an idea began to sink into the head of the boy, or rather, the man Snow every day, minute and second.

"My beautiful girl." — Coriolanus directed his steps towards you, causing some noises on the floor coming from his shiny and expensive shoes; shoes worth half the lives of the Panem. — "So beautiful…"

"Thank you, Coryo." — A thank you in such a fragile voice, almost coming out as a whisper; deep down, you didn't want to thank him for that compliment because you felt like it wasn't really meant for you.

Now the presence of Coriolanus was behind you and joining the mirror; the difference in height drew so much attention, giving you butterflies in your stomach. — You couldn't justify whether it was the excitement of seeing him or the intimidating feeling he showed, but you didn't deny the happiness that grew in your chest. — He was there with you.

Well, a different reflection of the Coriolanus you knew but he was there.

Without saying anything or even sighing, Coriolanus passed his arms covered by the long-sleeved white t-shirt, which was very reminiscent of his dear father's, around your waist; his hands passed over the slightly rough but comfortable fabric of the dress. — There was nothing comfortable about that dress for you. — Distributing a simple squeeze, a sign of wanting your attention, in the region.

For a second, you held your breath, not knowing the reason for this action, and your eyes focused on the mirror. — Coriolanus' head resting on your shoulder, his lips forming a convinced and enchanted smile before you; equal to a man when building a work with perfection and a lot of dedication.

"That dress looks perfect on you." — His dangerous and arrogant lips left long kisses on your neck and areas close to your shoulder; it tickled, it didn't bother you, and it let silent grunts escape your mouth. — "Don't you agree, my dear?" — Coriolanus wanted to elicit a specifically positive and obedient response from you.

At that very moment, and for the first time that morning, Snow didn't get what he wanted. — No words came out of your mouth, just a miserable sigh; still feeling his kisses on your sensitive part of your body.

"Answer me." — He interrupted the sealing session with his authoritative voice, a tone of voice that he began to present in recent times; Coriolanus listened and watched you swallow hard. — "Or are you not satisfied with everything i have done and given you?" — He was bitter and so cruel at the same time with those words.

and God, that's not what you were thinking.

"No, Coryo!" — Was it a scream? You didn't even realize that you had let out a very loud tone of voice. — "No, no." — Shaking your head quickly and disagreeing with the fallacies your lover uttered, you tried to calm the situation. — "That dress was great, i loved it."

Now, a nervous and distressed smile formed on your beautiful and stubborn lips against Coriolanus' venomous and superb smile. — He had you in his cold, rich hands, he had you in the cage like a little bird crying for freedom. — He had you.

"You don't know how happy i'm about this, my love."

#coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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chrissv4mp · 3 months

Text

- I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE —

chap 2 , love, chris — | — ...back — | — next...

summary: chris hangs around the plaza for a while, sneaking around the parking lot find your car and place a tracker on it. when you leave, chris knows this is all going according to plan, and you've fallen right into his trap.

pairing: stalker!chris sturniolo × singer!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, murder, weapons, blood, obsessive behavior, suggestive moments, breaking & entering, crying, arguments, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, first person, second person, etc. more than half of these topics are mentioned in later chapters.

author's note: hope u guys are enjoying this silly little story i made up in my head over the past few days. idk i just got a random boost of motivation & now here i am, writing about stalker!chris🤷‍♀️

author's note 2: yall are getting closer.......

word count: 3.5k

"i'm here around the clock,

i'm waiting on your block."

chris' eyes dart around the parking lot, leaning against his black bike that was still locked on a metal pole. his head turns downward, looking at the phone that sat on his shaky hand.

you haven't left yet. the red dot flashed over and over again, and suddenly, chris felt dizzy. stuffing his phone back into the pocket of his sweats, he leans against the pole, taking in the surrounding area.

multiple people were around, some girls making tiktoks by their cars and others chatting with some friends. his eyes didn't land on you until he looked back at the cafe you were at earlier.

your producers hand was on your wrist, dragging you behind him as he stomped his way to your car. chris almost laughed at how mad he was, it was like jamie had a crush on you.

chris' heart dropped, and now he felt sick. he hadn't seen jamie with you at the diner, but what if jamie did have a crush on you? a larger one than chris? what if you picked jamie over chris, your 'long-time' friend?

"this is what i'm talking about!" chris squinted his eyes, hearing only half of what the taller man was saying to you.

he wasn't allowed to speak to you like that, who does he think he is? chris couldn't stop the anger that washed over him for just a moment as he watched jamie continue to drag you.

there were gonna be marks left on your perfect skin, he needed to stop or else chris would something about it. and that's not exactly how he wanted to give off his second impression.

"jamie, would you just—hey! stop and talk to me for a second!" your voice is loud, almost yelling out into the open parking lot.

some people turn their heads, curious as to what was going on, but others mind their business and continue with their day. chris leaves the metal, creeping behind a car near where you and your producer stood.

jamie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you expectantly, "what do we need to talk about? there's nothing to say, y/n."

you bring your hands up to your head, rubbing your temples with your fingers. you can't even look at the blond right now, he always got like this whenever he was mad. he always shut down completely.

"if you could shut your fucking mouth and listen, that would be great." you bit back, eyes darkening as you stare at the blond.

chris lets out a quiet laugh this time, amused by your sudden anger at the boy. finally, you were doing something about jamie. from what the brunette bad seen, jamie always pushed you past point of no return. he also controlled you, and chris hated that. chris hated him.

jamie only scoffed, his ears picking up a quiet sound as his head turned in the direction of where it was coming from. his head turned back towards you, and he waited.

"listen, jamie. i love you, i really do, but you can't go crazy every time some stranger looks at me for even a second. i have fans, and million of people around the world know my name, it's not unlikely that people would stare." you sigh, an exasperated smile on your face.

the blond just sighs, listening intently as you continue, "just let me live a little, sometimes. i don't need you to protect me 24/7, i can assure you i'll be okay." you say softly, stepping to him as you look into his eyes.

chris feels another pang of jealousy in his heart, and he cringes at the way jamie stares down at you. his green, lovey eyes just make chris want to puke, that's supposed to be him!

"okay," the blond finally says, biting the inside of his cheek, "let's just get you home, alright? we'll talk about work over zoom tomorrow morning."

you smile widely, and chris blushes at your perfect teeth. why did you make him feel this way? why were you the only person who made him feel this way? it seemed like no other girl could compare to you.

he watched as you walked to your car, hand on jamie's shoulder. something fell from your pocket as you turned, and chris squinted his eyes in an effort to see it clearer.

it was a heart pendant, one that he saw regularly as he scrolled through your social media accounts every night. your dad gave it to you when were younger, and then he died in a car accident.

he remembers you writing about it in your captions, writing about how special it was and how much it was worth to you. there was even a song that you wrote about your dad, one of the lines mentioning the special pendant.

the brunette looks around, making sure you're in your car before running to grab the piece of jewelry and stuffing it into the pocket of his sweatpants.

chris scurries back to his bike, unlocking it from the pole as he keeps his eyes on your black suv. the growling sound of the engine starting almost made him flinch, and he quickly jumped on his bike as you pulled out of your parking space.

he didn't care to keep his distance, either, a mistake he made in the past that got him caught. but, bikers are always close to cars. he thinks. chris is still wearing the same black fresh love hoodie from earlier, not thinking to take it off before he began to peddle.

it was another awful mistake, but the car was higher up, and you couldn't see him in your mirrors. and plus, he needed something to cover his face or you would know it was him. he wasn't gonna take that chance.

the brunette thought carefully about his plan before he suggested that him and his brothers come to the plaza. he knew, by your recent instagram post, that you were here, and that's what got the plan started.

he didn't miss a beat, mapping it out and writing notes in a small notepad he kept hidden under his bed in that black box. he also wrote some letters, declaring his love to you but not actually signing it. every time he wrote the letters, he just signed, "love, c. :)" with the creepy smiley emoji.

there were millions of guys and girls who's names started with the letter c, so he wasn't worried when he actually started sending the letters a few months back, just before his 20th birthday. chris remembers writing about how much your music saved him and how he loved you a lot, just pouring all of his feelings out onto that sheet of paper.

he wasn't sure you got it until you had posted the note on your instagram story a week after his birthday, simply just typing a red heart emoji. that only added fuel to the fire, his obsession becoming stronger over the course of those few months, and now here he was, following you around on his bike.

"but please don't call the cops,

they'll make me stop,

and i just want to talk."

your car beeped as you pressed your keys, locking the doors before making your way down the sidewalk and up the porch stairs. you typed in the code, and you couldn't stop yourself from looking around.

there was a strange feeling in your gut that you couldn't shake, and it almost felt like someone was watching you. but nobody was. you couldn't see anybody.

looking back at the door, you opened it, quickly pushing yourself in and shutting the door. you didn't forget to lock it before going over to your curtains to close them. jamie had you on edge, filling your mind with the delusion that you had a stalker, and it was getting to you. slowly.

there was a large chance that someone was following you, stalking you. it happened to almost every celebrity, but it was never the same and somehow it always seemed to shock you how many different stalker stories people had.

your eyes move from the closed curtains to the pile of letters stacked on your coffee table. a shiver ran down your spine as you walked over, sitting down on the couch as you stared nervously at the pile in front of you.

your mail always consisted of fan letters, invitations to parties, and letters from your management and pr team, and you were always surprised when you read them. surprised was an understatement, actually. if you had to use a word to really describe it, you would pick terrified.

you were always terrified when you read letters that your fans had sent you. sure, some were nice and very kind, but once you got to the bottom of the pile, they got darker. some guy even sent you a strand of his hair, the words on the letter being written in dark red.. pen?

there were splatters of the ink all over the crumpled piece of paper, and you recount throwing up a lot that night. it wasn't pen, but you wouldn't have found that out if you didn't read the p.s. at the bottom.

you knew that should've been the first sign of a stalker, but you were younger back then and didn't really think about things like that. you were a dumb teenager living life, and you wouldn't blame yourself even now.

the doorbell rang, and you jumped at the sudden noise. you quickly got to your feet, glad that you wouldn't have to deal with your mail right now, but as you approached the door, that gut feeling came back.

there was a tall, dark silhouette standing on the other side of the wooden door. the figure was blurred due to the frosted windows on either side of the entrance. you continued walking, though, hands clenching into fists incase you needed to hit the person.

the person knocked, creating a catchy pattern before retracting their hand and waiting patiently. you finally reached the door, ready to punch the person as you opened the door.

when you looked up at the person, your face softened and you became less tense. your shoulders relaxed and so did your hands as you recognized the boy.

"hi," chris smiled warmly, toying with the hem of his beige t-shirt, "sorry to come in so suddenly."

you chuckled softly, eyes traveling down his body and catching sight of his black fresh love sweats. there was a small feeling of suspicion lingering in your mind, but you ignored it. chris would never stalk you. right?

"it's okay, i wasn't really doing anything. i just got home, actually." chris nodded, and before you could speak again, he pulled something out of his pocket and held it out in front of your face.

"i suppose this belongs to you?" he asks playfully, a sly smirk on his face as he dangles the pendant between the space of your two faces.

your eyes light up at the sight of the white, heart-shaped pendant hanging in front of your face, and you hold your hands out for chris to drop it there, "oh my gosh... chris—i... where did you find this?"

chris freezes. he didn't think about an explanation before walking up to your doorstep and knocking, "oh, uhm. well, i was just walking trevor and something caught his eye. it was on the sidewalk near that plaza a few blocks away. i let trev go home with my brothers and ran here."

"i thought it looked familiar, so i went on instagram, and what do you know? the first thing that pops up is a picture of you wearing it." his explanation doesn't sound fake, and chris himself would've believed it if he wasn't the one who spoke the words. this was a bad second impression, lying right to your face. he felt shitty now, and he couldn't shake the guilt.

"thank you, chris. seriously you don't know how much this means to me." you say again. you could thank him a million times and still feel like it wasn't enough.

the brunette boy just hums in response, a smile on his face as he stares at your beautiful e/c eyes. he always seems to get lost in them, even through the screen of his phone as he watches your interviews.

you move aside, beckoning chris to come in, "come in?"

chris bites his lip, eyes moving to look to his left. he left his bike lying in some bushes a few houses away, and his hoodie was also there, "i don't know.."

"oh, come on. i have pepsi." you smile, giggling as his eyes move in your direction again. he shrugs, a smile forming on his face as he steps through the door.

when chris enters your house, his eyes dart around the place. the things placed around show him a part of your personality, and he actually feels like he's getting somewhere this time. he's making progress with your relationship.

"take a seat, i'll get you a drink." you smile, catching a glimpse of his own as you pass by him and walk into the kitchen.

the first thing you do is open the fridge, looking around before grabbing two cans of the drink chris loves the most. as you walk back into the living room, he's waiting there on the couch.

his eyes are on your mail, entertained by the small stamps on the corners of the postcards. he got easily distracted, you knew that. maybe you watched too many videos of his and paid attention to him too much.

"here," you broke the silence, your voice gentle as you took a seat next to the boy, "your favorite."

chris chuckled, his cheeks heating up as he looked over at you. your lips were such a perfect shape, and they looked so soft. he just wished he could feel them on his someday, "thanks."

your mind begins to wander as chris opens the can, the cracking sound going unnoticed as you replayed the interaction with him just a few moments ago. you never told him your address, and it sure as hell wasn't on the internet, so... how did he know where you lived? you only just met the guy a few nights ago, and you can barely even remember anything you said to him at the diner.

"hey, how'd you find out where i live?" your voice was laced with suspicion yet again, and chris almost choked on the liquid he was about to swallow.

he covers it up with a cough, placing the can down onto the coffee table before turning to look at you, "i was just walking forward, honestly, going wherever my feet took me. then, when i turned the corner i saw you walking through the door."

chris knows it's not very believable, but it's not like he has any other normal explanation. okay, but seriously... wherever his feet took him?

the brunette just wanted to leave at this point, already so close to fumbling his plan and blowing his cover. he just hoped you would take the lame excuse.

there's still a look of confusion on your face, but it's subtle, almost like you really believe him. chris would frown if you weren't looking, were you really that gullible? anybody could take advantage of you at any time, and chris didn't like that.

your eyes scanned over the papers on your table again, and chris noticed you staring longer at one in particular. it was in a black envelope. it was in chris' black envelope.

"you're scared to open it." he thinks out loud, eyes drifting off and meeting your own nervous ones, "it's okay to be afraid, y/n, but you just have to face things in life to get over them."

chris won't forget the way you look at him in awe, a small smile on your face at his gentle, reassuring words. the brunette smiles right back at you, nodding his head toward the letter for you to grab it.

and you do just that, reaching out to grab the envelope and carefully opening it. you're slow with your movements, carefully peeling the flap off to make sure you don't rip it. the brunette learns something new about you every minute. literally every minute.

after you peel the paper fully off, you grab the card from inside of it and move the envelope out of the way.

chris doesn't lean over your shoulder, and you feel safe knowing that he respects your privacy. it just goes to show that his personality isn't an act for the camera.

"what's it say?" he finally speaks, and as you look over at him, he adds, "if you're comfortable telling me."

chris already knows. he only asked the question to find your thoughts about it, and how you would react to the words written.

your eyes go back to the letter, skimming over the words written in black pen. there's doodles all over the page, just as all the other ones sent from this anonymous person, c.

dear, y/n,

i saw your interview today, and you looked as beautiful as always. i loved the part where you spoke about the deeper meanings of the songs on your new album, it really gave me more of an understanding and made me feel more connected with the songs.

i feel like we're one in the same, you know? we have a lot in common, actually. if you didn't know, i'm also big in social media, so there's a hint on my actual identity. but enough about me, i just wanted to write to you again. you're the only person who truly understands me and i can't shake the feeling that we'd be perfect together.

there's a SUPER small chance of that happening, but a guy can dream. also, i hope u like my little doodles on these letters, i draw them while listening to your songs, and they're like little references to the titles! i just thought that was super cool (like u cause ur the coolest person ever like wtf??)

but yeah! i just wanted to pop in and tell u that you looked stunning in the interview and also that you're amazing. don't forget that. you are perfect in every way, shape, and form. yes, i'd still love u if u were a bug.

love, c. :)

— (p.s. i wrote this at like 2am but drew the pictures beforehand. like weeks beforehand.)

you smiled softly, blush creeping on your face as you giggled at the last sentence. you didn't even know the guy and he was already flirting with you. and you were falling for him!

"it's a letter from a few days ago, when i was on the late night show with jimmy kimmel. this guy is just complimenting me and saying he feels an even deeper connection with my songs now that i explained some of the meanings." you explain, head turning to look at chris as you let your hands fall into your lap.

chris nods, humming as his blue eyes meet yours again. he never missed a chance to make eye contact with you because it was only for a small amount of time, and it wasn't everyday that your eyes were on his. it was everyday that his eyes were on you, and yours were on someone else.

"there's a monkey," you smile, running your fingers across the oddly smooth piece of paper. chris would never consider himself an artist, but, hey, he did an amazing job drawing that cartoon monkey.

the brunette giggles along with you, leaning closer to your body and almost touching shoulders. this was probably the closest you've been ever since that picture you took together.

"monkeys are my favorite. i had a bunch of stuffed ones whenever i was younger, thrn our house burnt down, so." chris frowns as the memory of the house fire comes back to him, and you feel a rush of sympathy for the boy.

you reach a hand out to rest on his shoulder, rubbing it in an effort to comfort him, "i'm sorry chris. no one should have to experience that."

he only smiles at you, the look of sadness completely gone now. he can't let himself be vulnerable to you just yet. he has to wait until you're his, and he hates it.

"it's okay. that was such a long time ago, i shouldn't even be thinking about it anymore." he sighs, his smile growing even wider as he finally realizes that your hand is placed on his shoulder.

you tilt your head at the boy, a small frown still on your face. chris mirrors your expression, tilting his head in the same direction, "don't give me that look, it's like you're a sad dog. c'mon, you're gonna make me sad."

your lips curve into a smile at his words, shoving him softly at his playful tone, "okay, don't ever call me a sad dog again."

chris giggles, his cheeks heating up again as he stares at your beautiful face, "but dogs are cute, i love 'em."

blush creeps onto your face, and chris' eyes widen for only a second as he realizes what he just said.

"thanks." you tease, and chris hides his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

comment to be added to the taglist!

@livialifesblog @zayyluvz @1800-love-me @snowysosturn @mirioosos

@ladyy-whistle-d0wn @ginswife @spideylovin @dej4vhs @strnlxlqve

@joemamaaa42069 @fratbrochrisgf @slut4chriss @h3arts4harry @str4wberryk1ss3s

@riasturns @yurpppppy @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @asimp4chris @byneptunee

@ilove2021chris @freshloveforthefit @sturniologals @ifwdominicfike @sturnsdoll

@3lizaluvs @matt444nixi @nikki-starx @notmylaa11 @jetaimevous

@fionaheartswomen @sturni0l0 @sturniolofannn @sturniolofannnlmao @demzzz

@n3-vaeh @melanch0lybby

198 notes · View notes

swordgrace · 6 months

Note

Okay I know you've already written "vampire eating out reader who's 'on the rag'" (to quote Paul) BUT... Can we have one with Astarion? 😩

𖣊 pairing — astarion x fem!human!reader.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.5K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), period sex, bloodplay, blood drinking, oral sex (f!receiving), cunnilingus, praise kink, hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, unspoken feelings, astarion gives mad head (I don’t make the rules)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Well, here we are, back to my vampire obsession. I’m so addicted to Baldur’s Gate right now that it’s insane. I had so much fun writing this! This is also my first time writing for Astarion, so feedback is definitely appreciated! I’m hoping to write so much more of him! Thank you all for the support! ❤️

A distant, whistling breeze swept across the tall strands of sungrass, rustling against the threadbare canvas of your tent. It was shoddy lodging at best — certainly not a paradise. Gale and Astarion could afford such luxurious accommodations, but you were left to your own devices. You even envied Lae’zel’s tent, and it wasn’t much better than yours.

Crackling waves of dulled pain continued to ripple throughout the pit of your stomach, a familiar tightening and seizing of muscles that left you restless. Sometimes, humanity could be a horrible thing — you were a slave to your own basic bodily functions.

Shadowheart had bluntly broached the subject of menstruation with you earlier in the day — offered you rags to keep yourself clean. It was embarrassing, admittedly — you wanted to try and keep it all discreet.

Being underprepared for this scenario left you flustered and embarrassed, but you were thankful for her assistance, wariness aside.

Your newfound band of parasite-toting compatriots were becoming the closest thing to family that you had, but there were some you trusted more than others. You often regarded Shadowheart with a healthy dose of skepticism, but she’d been helpful enough.

Glittering rays of silvery moonlight struck through the worn spots on your tent, pooling across your form as you tossed yet again, hands folding together atop your stomach. The dying embers of the campfire dissipated out of existence — the world was dormant.

Sleep eluded you, replaced by the toils of your monthly blood moon that frustrated you to no end.

Halsin was generous enough to concoct an herbal poultice that was supposed to help, but one swig of the earthen liquid, and you were spitting it right back out into the dirt. Much to your dismay, you would be left to endure your cycle in its raw state, no remedies.

The gentle ambiance of swaying grass and the buzz of nature at dusk served as your atmosphere, accompanied by your deep breaths and occasional stifled groans. You rolled over, form awkwardly contorted on your side in an attempt to find some relief.

Your evening clothes were made of thistledown and spidersilk, far more comfortable than the linen-sewn rags you’d been trekking in for the last few weeks. It was all courtesy of a fashionable Drow you’d met in a village in the Underdark.

Your gaze fixated on the low, dimmed glow of a flickering lantern situated in your quarters, sitting soundly alongside your backpack. Orange light danced within the colorful glass, producing minuscule refractions that became a worthwhile distraction.

A fluttering of cloth tore your attention away from the luminous object, and you directed your gaze toward the agape flap of your tent.

Two glittering rubies peered down at you, sanguine hues dancing with a peculiar sheen amongst a canvas of smooth, marblesque flesh. The black ties of his silken nightshirt were left unkept, sleeves pulled toward the crooks of his pale elbows.

Astarion’s vampirism was something you’d become intimately acquainted with.

Perhaps it wasn’t your brightest move, letting him feed from you — but you had no qualms or regrets. Beneath the facade of allure and arrogance, Astarion wasn’t all bad. In the many moments you’d shared of allowing him to drink, you’d learned more, little by little.

“Astarion,” You exhaled, wondering why he’d come to you at this particular hour. He’d fed not long ago — from a nearby stag, and not you. He was ethereal beneath the moonlight, all lean and akin to a statue, living perfection as he lingered within the entryway of your tent. “Is everything alright?”

A sardonic huff escaped him, followed by a familiar tilt of his head, ivory curls swaying with his movements. “I could ask you the very same, darling.” He mused. “It seems that you cannot sleep.”

You swallowed the lump within your throat, sitting up enough within your bedroll to face him fully. “No,” You didn’t want to shower Astarion with the grisly details of your womanly cycle. It was of little importance. “Halsin’s awful concoction left a bad taste in my mouth.”

Astarion hummed, senses attuned to you — truthfully, he could smell you from across the camp.

That familiar siren’s song of blood echoed his name — your blood, above all. He wasn’t above lecherous thoughts, especially when it came to the likes of you. His solution to your little problem was unorthodox — Astarion wondered if you would be open to it.

“Was it that mess of an elixir that left you restless, or perhaps something else?” The pale Elf inquired, noticing the little flickers of realization settling into your features. “I have quite the keen sense of smell, you know. Your predicament is rather obvious.”

As your lips fell apart, Astarion chuckled — it was a rich sound, deep from within the confines of his chest. Embarrassment rippled through you, spreading like a wildfire throughout your body. Tendrils of heat crept along the back of your neck.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” You mumbled, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Is it bothering you?” You hadn’t considered that your blood might’ve had an adverse effect on the vampire spawn, but he dismissed your concerns with a simple wave.

Astarion stepped inside, dropping the burlap flap as it fluttered back into place. His flesh was a beautiful shade, encapsulated by the flickering glow of lantern light as he stood before you. “No,” He clicked his tongue. “I do have a solution to your predicament — with my own assistance, of course.”

Confusion settled into your countenance — Astarion wasn’t necessarily shocked by this, either. You were a delicate little human, a sweet, pious creature that he intended to ravish when opportunity presented itself — such as now.

He drank in your innocence, feeding from your piety as if it were your lifeblood. It was easy to charm you, let you slip into his intricately-spun web of seduction, but in reality, he found himself becoming soft on you.

What a horrid thing — soft on you.

Yet, Astarion couldn’t help himself. Your presence was soothing, providing a warmth that even enveloped his own icy heart. You never asked him for anything — you never used him. He wanted you all the more for it, desired to keep you for himself.

“How could you help me with this?” You questioned, assuming that he had some remedy for you that countered Halsin’s. Anything would do — you were becoming desperate for a solution.

Something shifted in Astarion’s eyes — his gaze became hooded, glazed with some indiscernible notion that caused your stomach to swirl with uncertainty. Your breath hitched within your throat when his cold digits swept across your cheek.

“In a way that I know best,” He crooned, thumb gingerly sweeping along the curve of your jawline. “You would lay back and let me taste you.” Astarion’s suggestion struck you as unorthodox and crude — and you nearly gasped at the insinuation of his words.

“You don’t mean it.” You countered, shivering beneath the icy bite of his embrace. Your flesh felt like scorched earth, blistering with a fever that you couldn’t sweat out — and your remedy, your cure — he stood before you like an ethereal god.

Astarion chuckled, head canting to one side. “I do, darling,” He uttered, voice dropping to a delicious octave that seemed to curl around you like a vice, spreading to parts of you that you never thought possible. “It would be mutually beneficial, I assure you.”

A guttural whimper of sheer want coalesced within the depths of your throat, goosebumps dancing across your spine as you contemplated. It felt so intimate — if you were to go through with it, the lines of your relationship with Astarion would be blurred completely.

The desire for relief and for him outweighed logic, and you exhaled, eyes silently pleading with him for his touch. Astarion was enticed — admittedly, he wanted to taste you, bloodied or not.

“If you are worried about the mess, you needn’t trouble yourself, my sweet.” Astarion mused, pearlescent fangs glinting in the low light. “I will take care of you.” Something about his tone made you shudder, wanting nothing more than to give yourself to him — every fiber, every piece.

His growing fondness for you was becoming increasingly difficult to suppress. He hungered for your blood and he yearned for you — a naive human that he initially cared little for. Now, he was enthralled, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“I’ll let you,” You whispered, voice barely above a shrewd whisper as you watched his expression blossom into one of sheer desire. Those crimson hues raked over you, devouring you without action, leaving you a mess, surrendering to him willingly. “Please.”

“How kind of you,” Astarion hummed, sinking onto his knees as his palm spread across the swell of your hip. “I wonder if you taste just as sweet as you look.” His honeyed purr dripped with a warm reassurance, all wrought with want as he eased you down onto your back.

A fire burned within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as you settled down onto the many layers of a tough leather bedroll and feathered blanket. Astarion loomed like a hungering predator as he slipped between your legs, throat hoarse with the sting of thirst.

His cold hands pried at your silken nightshirt, gingerly lifting the fabric towards your chest as it bunched up just beneath your breasts. A wave of cool, brusque night air licked across your stomach, but the sudden presence of Astarion’s lips made you tense up.

He made sure to touch you — caress your supple frame wherever he could. Despite his one-track mind, Astarion wanted to make you feel good. Those practiced digits of his slipped across your ribcage, dragging down toward your abdomen.

“I’ve dreamed of this, coveted this,” He murmured into your flesh, kissing his way toward your weeping cunt. Nimble digits caressed their way to the waistband of your undergarments, tugging them down and away from your body. “Your sweet flesh, your body beneath mine, crying my name from your lips.”

None of this felt real — your head was spinning, mind deliriously dizzy with a newfound desire. You couldn’t discern if his confession was genuine or simply a ploy to subdue you. Truthfully, you didn’t care either way.

Astarion hummed again, nose brushing along the supple skin of your thigh. “Astarion,” You mewled, unable to keep from saying his name. “I—I …” You babbled, savoring the sensation of his mouth on your skin.

You felt his body quiver with a gentle chuckle as he inhaled a gust of your intoxicating scent. It was your distinct perfume intermingled with that of blood — the twang of coppery menses that he intended on consuming.

Even when prone between your thighs, Astarion exuded a rather domineering aura, icy lips peppering a string of kisses against your inner thigh. He wanted nothing more than to bite — indulge himself in your sanguine ichor. The scent between your legs invited him in, instead.

As crimson wept from your core, the vampiric Elf moved forward, skilled tongue languidly dragging across your aching cunt. He shivered when your cruor fell upon his mouth, a taste of your blood that he so desired.

His palms settled themselves atop your plush hips, hooking underneath your legs. He pressed into your flesh, gripping you tightly as he held you firmly in-place. Astarion could feel the visceral, unrestrained way in which your body reacted to him, twitching and shuddering, thighs flexing.

“How delicious,” Astarion purred, voice dropping to a sultry octave. It stroked every recess of your mind, setting your nerves ablaze, making your stomach churn with a wave of butterflies. “My sweetest pet.” He uttered, licking at any drop of scarlet.

Flushed and flustered, arousal pooled between your legs, intermingled with that of your menses. One of your hands haplessly fisted the feather blanket, the other roaming towards that crown of ivory curls. A low, bemused growl tore past his throat when you gripped his tresses.

If anything, it simply encouraged Astarion, whose greed knew no boundaries. He eagerly lapped at your cunt, tongue tracing across your slit. You felt the little twang of relief that he offered, and you were beyond grateful. You felt the desire to reciprocate — if he let you.

It became increasingly difficult to stifle your pleasured mewls and moans, back beginning to arch slightly off of your bedroll. His continued string of lascivious praise and salacious comments made your flesh turn hot, begging for a release of any kind.

The dull burn within his throat was quelled, soothed by your cruor. Astarion was eager, delighting in your pretty noises and the way your body gave into him. He greedily lapped at the sticky menses trickling from your core, lips twitching into a smirk.

His crown of ivory curls felt like Githyanki silk beneath your fingertips, and for a moment, you peered down — you needed to sate your curiosity.

The mere sight of Astarion, coiled and poised like a lithe predator, wedged between your thighs sent you reeling. He could detect your beseeching gaze, and without pause, those vermilion hues flickered to hold your stare.

Instinctively, your body shivered, goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. You watched in silent reverence as the broad flat of Astarion’s tongue lapped at your cunt, showering your clit in newfound affection. A stray curl fell across his temples — he was beautiful.

A strangled gasp escaped you, and you fell flat once more, fingers seizing up within his tresses. Astarion’s form rumbled with subtle laughter as he keened forward, mouth suckling on that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your reaction was well worth it.

“Astarion,” You cried, thighs rattling like leaves upon a swaying tree. You wanted to thank him over and over again for this — the tight waves of aching pain had subsided. “Gods, I — Feels so good.” A pleasured moan tore past your lips once more.

A sliver of you feared waking the others, potentially alerting the camp to your nightly accolades. You didn’t want to allow your worry to fester, hips rocking forward when his tongue embraced your cunt once more.

One hand traveled from the curve of your hip to the apex of your thighs, two fingers stroking over your weeping entrance. You gasped, soothed by Astarion’s soft laughter as he lifted his head slightly. “So sensitive.” He purred, lips stained in a glistening layer of crimson. He kissed the inside of your knee.

Heat rolled through you in pleasant waves as pangs of ecstasy gripped you. Seeing Astarion’s bloodied mouth made you shiver, only wanting him to continue, bring you to climax. He sank two digits into your cunt, tongue dutifully returning to lap at your clit.

If you were to perish now, you’d die happy and within the throes of your own ecstasy — with a pale, Elvish deity between your thighs.

You’d wanted him for some time, and to finally drown yourself in his affections — it almost didn’t feel real. The practiced, needy lap of his tongue brought you back to reality, making your hips lurch forward once more. Those digits of his gently pistoned in and out of your cunt, ensuring a level of softness.

Rivulets of your menses coated his fingers, much to his delight. Astarion was relentless, driven in his quest to simultaneously feed and soothe your blood moon pains. His perfectly-timed movements of his fingers worked in-tandem with his mouth, tongue flicking from your clit to your weeping core.

A white-hot pleasure blistered through you, beginning to mount into your encroaching release. Your climax was close, stomach swirling with molten heat, body feeling as if it could simply float away.

“A—Astarion,” You whimpered, desperate to get rid of your nightshirt. The coolness of dusk could not alleviate the pure heat you felt now. A shrill cry left your lips when he withdrew his fingers, simply exchanging them for his tongue as he dragged you closer. “Astarion!”

His name felt like an incantation upon your tongue — it was a sultry, desperate plea for him. The Elf thoroughly reveled in your innocuous cries, wanting to hear you chant his name like a prayer. It felt so genuine, affection intermingled with desire.

Astarion’s gaze lingered on you, chest heaving, flesh glistening with a sheen of perspiration, countenance contorted into sheer ecstasy. There was something rapturous in his eyes — you couldn’t see it, but it was certainly present.

A low hum of approval escaped him when you absentmindedly tugged on his curls again, and he rewarded you with a barrage of his tongue. It was a greedy assault on your cunt as the vampire spawn drank from the source, inhaling a gust of your scent.

“Such a pretty voice, darling,” Astarion uttered, and you soared underneath his reverent praise. You were prepared to burst, body tensing, like a blossom unfurling within the sunlight. “You taste delightful.” He knew what it would do to you — he reveled in it.

You shivered, feeling his nose brush along your thigh as he kissed at the skin there, teeth teasing and grazing along your sensitive flesh. He returned to your core once more, lapping at your oozing cunt with glee — and that seemed to be enough for you.

Everything seemed to spin in circles, head fuzzy and body sinking into sheer bliss. Pleasure washed over you in hot, visceral waves as you were brought to your climax, hips tilting upward as you came.

The coil within your stomach snapped, muscles relaxed — the uncomfortable pain had subsided. Even if the relief would be fleeting, you were beyond grateful to Astarion for assisting you. You came to, flushed and flustered, sitting up enough to see Astarion finishing up.

He emerged from between your legs, tongue languidly lashing across his pearlescent fangs and lips. Speckles of crimson were splattered across his chin, but you nearly collapsed at the sight of him sucking on his fingers.

Whatever mess you made, Astarion had cleaned it all away — he never spilled a drop. “That, ah …” What did you say? “Thank you for doing this, Astarion. I don’t know what else to say.” You confessed.

Astarion chuckled, head canting to one side. “Speechless, are we? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve left someone in such a state.” He crooned, and before he could move to stand, you reached for his arm, coaxing him back.

“Don’t ever feel obligated to do this,” You mumbled, somewhat embarrassed at the sight of your cruor on his chin. Sheepishly, you swiped it away with your thumb — but he caught it. “I feel like I didn’t do anything in return.”

Instead, the pale Elf held your wrist, ruby hues drinking you in, picking you apart. Astarion remained hushed for a moment as he considered his words, lips quirking into an abnormally tender smirk. “You did return the favor, darling. Your blood is tribute enough.”

Your breath hitched within your throat, but you didn’t protest, gaze subtly absorbing his porcelain features. He was gorgeous — you often felt inferior in his presence, shadowed by his timeless beauty. You smiled at him, fingers reaching to squeeze at his hand. The gesture was unexpected for him, but he made no comment.

“Thank you. I do feel better,” You cleared your throat, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Did you mean what you said, about coveting me and dreaming about this?” For your own peace of mind, you wanted to know where you stood with Astarion.

He should’ve known that you’d ask.

Astarion hummed, neglecting to disclose the truth about how he felt towards you. Part of him was fearful of the implications, of what it could mean — he felt unworthy of you and your piety. “Of course,” He uttered, voice dropping into a more alluring octave. “I would not mind indulging in this again.”

Part of you deflated — intimacy wasn’t the only thing you wanted from Astarion. You wanted his heart. It gave you something to think on, but for now, you were simply content to enjoy his company, lewd or otherwise.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You murmured, visibly sheepish as you glanced back towards your bedroll. “I should try and sleep, I think.” You nearly asked if he wanted to stay with you, but fear and insecurity gripped you in that moment.

“I should hope that your rest is much more productive.” Astarion smirked, pressing a feather-light kiss against your knuckles before rising to his feet. Sharing your bed didn’t seem prudent — for him, it would only make his feelings for you worse.

A soft laugh bubbled forth from your lips before you pulled your clothes back into place, descending onto the feathered blanket. “Goodnight, Astarion.” You exhaled, watching him as he slipped towards the burlap flap of your shoddy tent.

“Rest well, my sweet.” Astarion hummed, and like a shadow, he disappeared into the star-speckled gloom of the night.

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