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#but alas; such a thing would have been too draining; even if it would have been fun
ratstuckinamarble · 3 months
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im gonna inflict you with the knowledge that, while doodling that diving griffin pic, i had Atemlos durch die Nacht (live in Munchen 2022) on repeat >:)
AND, the whole time the image in my head was something like this:
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sorry Rat ^w^;
The gall! >:0
Well... Perhaps this Rat gave the version you mentioned a listen. And perhaps, it was not as bad as I remembered.
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Maybe, just maybe, I was kinda grooving to that... But only in small amounts! I gotta keep this a very rare occasion as to not hate the song again XD
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sporadicbeans82 · 27 days
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What Can't Be || Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Reader (Part Two)
Part 1 || Part 3
Summary: You think you're in love with your ex-girlfriend, Mapi León. You also think you're in love with her current girlfriend. Both of them are your new teammates, and you must continue to bury your feelings for both women and prioritize your career... It's a little bit harder than you thought. What a mess.
Warnings: A swear word probably, a loooot of angsty pining, self-hatred, lack of sleep on the part of the Reader
Word count: 5.1k words
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Your first day at Barcelona was spent in a haze of confusion and exhaustion. You’d spent most of the night restlessly rolling over and over until you’d gotten up and out of bed early, at around three in the morning. 
You were two coffees into the day, and you felt like your eyes had been glued open but still fought to close. Your very being was exhausted, given that the turnover between your last match, moving homes, and attending your first training for Barcelona had been a solid three days. It probably wouldn’t have been quite as draining if you’d been able to sleep at night, but each night was much the same. 
You spent much of your time trying to sleep. You’d never had very many issues with the task before, so you weren’t quite sure why you couldn’t sleep now. You blamed it due to the stress which had compounded within your life in the last few days. 
“Hola!!” Someone cried out in greeting to you, and you glanced up. You wore a plain jumper and trousers, both of which you’d tugged on in the dark that morning. 
“Hola.” You greeted back, trying to remind yourself not to be nearly as grumpy as you felt. You forced a kinder smile onto your face, eyes drifting up to find one of the Barcelona players walking besides you. You recognized them to be Claudia Pina, and looked around for her partner in crime. Alas, Patri was nowhere to be found. 
Noticing the way you glanced around, Claudia puffed her cheeks out and gave you a cheesy grin. 
“Ella tenía un interview con La Reiiiinaaaaaaa!” Claudia rolled the R in “Reina” exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes playfully. You wondered if the younger girl was always like this, happy and joyful, and naturally funny. You hardly felt like you yourself could be like that, given the pit of dread which culminated in your stomach at the prospect of having to face two specific women who’d been haunting your very thoughts the past few days. 
As much as you yearned to make a great “first” impression on the Barcelona players, you could hardly think straight, both literally and metaphorically. Over the last few days, you’d attempted to get your muddled and confused thoughts in order, but found yourself unable to. 
You always ended up thinking too hard about Ingrid Engens’ kind, concerned eyes or her soft fingers against your skin. Or, you were drowning in memories of your time with Mapi so, so many years ago. It was the last thing that you’d needed at the time, given how big this club transfer was to you, but you couldn’t force yourself out of this cycle of thought. 
“Estás bien?” Claudia’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, which you were incredibly grateful for as the two of you began to enter the locker room. Walking down the hallway together, you nodded at the younger player.
“Yeah just… estoy en mi mente, cabeza? Stuck in my thoughts.” You didn’t know how much English Claudia knew, but you were even more unsure about your own Spanish. How one could go through a decade of Spanish teams knowing only minimal Spanish had and always would be a mystery to you.
Claudia just grinned at you, however, and you supposed that she probably knew a decent amount of English. You remembered seeing a video somewhere that focused on a day in the life with Mapi and… Ingrid. You’d never watched the video for obvious reasons, but you’d seen a few snippets of it on various apps. 
Just like that, your mind was stuck on the way that the two communicated. You remembered hearing Ingrids’ accented English and Mapi’s Spanish, responding to each other in a flurry of different languages. It reminded you of the way that you and Mapi had communicated when you had dated, with you understanding the Spanish that Mapi spoke but responding back in English. The thought made you insanely jealous, but dread washed over you as you couldn’t figure out which girl you were jealous of. 
It should have been easy. You should have wanted to be Ingrid, right? Because you had dated Mapi in the past, and you’d be lying if you said that feelings were not still there for the Spanish defender. However, your thoughts always seemed to catch on Ingrids’ hands and eyes and… the way she’d spoken to you, calm and collected when you were everything but. You were confused.
Walking into the locker room with Claudia didn’t help that confusion. Most of the team was already there, and many of the girls greeted you and Claudia by name. You did your best to acknowledge each greeting with one of your own.
However, catching sight of Ingrid and Mapi talking to each other quietly by one of their cubbies in a far corner of the room caused a thick feeling of anxiety to choke the words back into your throat. You tried not to stare at the other two, but as you were shown to your cubby, your eyes drifted upward to take them in. 
Both women wore their training gear, and Mapi was getting her boots on while Ingrid sat beside her. One of Ingrids’ hands had fallen onto Mapi’s knee, stroking at the freshly-healed scars there from Mapi’s most recent surgery. 
The two whispered quietly back and forth, planting kisses on each others’ cheeks. They were, as it stood, the very definition of “public display of affection” but nobody on the team seemed to mind. At Real Madrid, or any of the other teams that you’d been on, you would have gotten shit from your teammates for so much as holding hands with someone you were interested in. It seemed different here, warmer and softer. It was an atmosphere which allowed these types of interactions with your significant other in a quiet locker room, a safe place to show affection and love for each other. 
Moreover, it seemed more like Mapi was talking to Ingrid and the tall, black-haired woman was simply listening with a fond smile on her face. It was good to know that Mapi was still a yapper, to put it simply. 
Even when the two of you had dated, Mapi had constantly had something to say. Being the quieter of the two, you’d always been more than happy to listen to Mapi’s near-constant string of commentary, jokes, and quips… it had been one of your favorite things about your ex-girlfriend. The way which she could fill even the quietest of rooms with laughs and smiles had always been such a talent of Mapi’s, and the realization that you were no longer the recipient of her words, and hadn’t been for a long time, hurt. Of course, you’d known that since you’d broken off your relationship with the other woman, but seeing the way you were replaced as her partner in ways that used to be so special to you… you swore your heart cracked painfully even more.
As Mapi’s fingers finished tying her laces, she looked up. She caught your dazed gaze, and the two of you met eyes from across the room. The glance startled you into movement, before you could get stuck in her eyes as you had with Ingrids’.
You were quick to look back down, of course, busying yourself with getting your own training gear on as you tugged your jumper over your head and replaced it with the Barcelona top that had been given to you.
When you looked up again, the two were gone. You took your time gathering your stuff together and shoving it back into your cubby. You started to walk out towards the pitch, in the direction that you’d seen the majority of your team go, before you thought better of it.
You circled back to your cubby and turned towards it, taking a deep breath and trying to center yourself as you did so. You knew that this team was important to you, and this transfer was one that you couldn’t fuck up. You realized all too well that the feelings of confusion you had towards your ex-girlfriend and her current girlfriend were ones that very well could fuck everything up, and so you fought to bury them one last time.
Then, you turned right back around. You tried to hold your head up high and expel all of the negative, exhausted energy that had held you down for the last few days. Pushing all thoughts of Mapi and her girlfriend right out of your mind with it. 
Walking out onto the pitch, however, you could still feel the multiple sleepless nights weighing heavy on your shoulders. 
You knew you were fucked the second that Mapi looked up at you. Your eyes meeting a second time had you blushing and turning away before you could control your reaction. Internally, you screamed. You felt like a fool, and you knew that your reaction was a noticeable one by the way you saw Mapi furrow her brows at you from across the field. 
No matter how hard you tried to bury your feelings, they just kept bubbling up to the surface. You reminded yourself that what you had with Mapi was old news. What used to be, but was no longer. 
It didn’t work, and your heart sat cracked in your chest as you kept your head down through the rest of the warmups in order to avoid eye contact with the woman you knew you still loved. 
-----
Your mission to avoid eye contact with both Ingrid and Mapi lasted for an entire five minutes before you were paired with Ingrid for a drill. 
The drill had you pressing up against a ball and trying to run in a straight line to control a ball which was kicked towards you by a third partner. Due to the fact that Mapi was still restricted due to her recent meniscus injury, she was the partner who passed the ball towards either you or Ingrid. 
The three of you fell into your positions almost silently, but as you picked up the large rubber ball to place between you and the taller Norwegian, you dropped the ball. It simply slipped between your shaking fingers, and as you went to pick it up again, the ball dropped out from between your hands again as it rotated awkwardly in your grip.
Sighing exasperatedly, you stooped to try a third time, only to be intercepted by a firm arm across your chest. The arm stopped you from bending downwards, and you glanced over to meet Ingrids’ eyes. 
Like during the match, you swore you could have drowned in her eyes, and cursed yourself for the way your heart stammered in your chest. You felt your throat dry up, feeling so many emotions for such a simple interaction. A combination of your lack of sleep, your small crushes on the girls, and the way that you absolutely couldn’t have those feelings for the two Barcelona players was becoming nearly overwhelming in its intensity. 
You quickly redirected your gaze, backing up so that Ingrids’ arm was no longer pressed against you. If you hadn’t done that, you swore you could have crumpled right then and there. Instead, you retrained your eyes on Mapi, which wasn’t any better as the girl met your eyes with her own, seeming to have been watching you the entire time.
A part of you wanted to go up to Jona and tell him that you couldn’t do this. Even better, a part of you wanted to hightail it back to Real Madrid. You weren’t made for this– the pressure, the pain, and the extra feelings on the side. It wasn’t something that you were used to, and the usual methods that you had to cope with how you were feeling weren’t working. 
Seeming to sense an impending breakdown, you felt the rubber ball pressed against your side. Ingrids’ shove nearly sent you flying, but you managed to catch your footing in time. You heard her giggle, and the sound was so much softer than you anticipated. It reminded you of the birds which had used to sit outside your home in England, chirping away as the sun rose above the horizon. 
Suddenly, you felt like you would have done anything to hear the noise again. It wasn’t unlike the way you felt about Mapi talking. You would have made a fool out of yourself, traveled to the moon and back an infinite number of times, jumped and heaved mountains over your shoulders just to hear Mapi speak to you like you were more than just a stranger… or to hear Ingrid laugh. 
Here you were, falling further and further for both women. You hoped, rather stupidly, that one of the girls would catch you before you fell too far.
The sound, like everything else Ingrid seemed to do, soothed your frayed nerves as a small smile returned to your face. You pushed back against Ingrid with all of your might, and that was when Mapi kicked the ball towards the two of you.
You tried to stick your foot out while also trying to maintain your balance, and ended up falling sideways. You heard someone squawk before there was a weight on top of you, and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know that it was the person who you really shouldn’t want to be on top of you.
You tried not to pay attention to the way Ingrids’ hand was splayed across your stomach, or the way she smelled like… trees, but sweet. Like tree scented candles, maybe. Instead, you forced yourself to pay attention to her bony elbow, which was digging into your ribs from how she was laying.
You grunted, trying to roll the girl off, and she allowed you to push her off with another giggle.
There it was again, the laugh that could have lit up a million dark rooms. 
Ingrid got up to her knees, showing Mapi a thumbs up as the other girl had begun to make her way over to check on the both of you. Just like she’d done at the match, Ingrid offered you her hand, and you took it. Once again, you forced yourself to stop liking the way the girls’ skin felt against yours. 
As you climbed back to your feet, you tripped over your own laces and stumbled. You expected yourself to fall right back down to the ground, but were instead met with two steadying hands on your shoulders. 
“I do not remember you being this clumsy.” Mapi said to you, and you tried not to look at her. You caught the barest of glimpses of her face, the small scar in her eyebrows that you did not recall her having when you’d dated. Her brown eyes, which held the slightest bit of concern as they took you in, and her lips– tilted slightly up despite the way which she regarded you.
The way she was touching you had your mind reeling once more. Mapi’s palms were firm against your shoulders, reminding you of so many different times which she’d held you just like this. The tips of her fingers just barely brush over the skin of your arms below your sleeves, alighting all new memories which you’d buried long ago.
A blush rose to your cheeks as you registered Mapi’s words. There was nothing to them, as they were spoken rather flatly and so unlike the Mapi you knew– the one full of energy and passion, no matter what she was doing or saying. Despite that, the way Mapi nonchalantly seemed to refer to the fact that she used to know you… you tried so hard not to think about it.
Your mind, however, has always been your greatest enemy. It replayed Mapi’s words and the meaning behind them again and again, even as you stepped away from your ex-girlfriend. Your entire body screamed to step back into her space, just to hear her talk to you again, to feel her touch against your skin.
You had more self-control than that, thankfully, and turned away from them. 
You were thankful for the whistle blowing, signaling the end of the drill. You saw Ingrid hold her hand out to you for a high five… or something, but a jolt of nerves overcame you. You were afraid of what you were feeling towards Ingrid, someone who you certainly should not have been feeling anything for. On top of that, despite how cold and neutral Mapi was towards you, you felt the same kind of attraction towards the Spaniard as you did for the Norwegian. 
As you continued through the training session, several things plagued your mind– Ingrid’s laugh, Mapi’s words, and memories of Mapi’s touch, as well as Ingrids’ hand against your abdomen. Your mind was quickly spiraling, faster than you could control it.
By the time the day was done, you were ready to go home and try to go to sleep early. You were, however, stopped by your captain in Alexia Putellas before you could leave.
“Tenemos… we have team bonding tonight. I will send you the address and information, vale?” Alexia had blocked you from leaving the locker room with her body standing in front of the door. The way which she had positioned herself, combined with the way she looked at you as though you were some caged animal made you feel as though she knew more about how you were feeling than you were ready to admit.
Instead of verbally responding, you nodded. Alexia looked like she wanted to say more, but instead awkwardly moved to the side. You brushed against her, but felt nothing like you had for Ingrid or Mapi. You knew that it was a good thing that you didn’t have feelings for your Captain, but a part of you was still… disappointed.
A part of you had hoped that you could blame your attraction to Ingrid and Mapi’s touches to the fact that you hadn’t been touched or comforted in a long time. The fact that you didn’t want to curl up in Alexia’s arms from the barest of touches had you feeling… wound up, almost. You were incredibly frustrated, because you knew you couldn’t find the relief that your body yearned for in another person who would be so much easier to confide in.
As you made your way out of the locker room, your mind continued to reel and ponder the thoughts which had kept you sleepless for days.
Mapi and Ingrid watched you leave, the barest of frowns on their faces. They had noticed how you’d been acting– first, at the match, and now at your first practice. It had been Mapi who had pointed out the way that you leaned into Ingrids’ touch, and the way that you seemed to avoid eye contact. The Spanish woman had noted the black eye bags which deepened below your eyes, and the way that your shoulders sagged.
Ingrid had noticed it, too, and both girls felt helpless. They’d discussed Mapi’s relationship with you prior to you joining the team, and had come to the agreement that they would act professionally towards you. Mapi couldn’t discard the anger that she felt towards you now, even years after the two of you had broken up. 
You’d been her first love, and when you’d broken up with her to be with someone else, Mapi had been torn in half for years. Even more so when she realized that you’d been cheating on her. 
Ingrid had helped fix the parts that Mapi had never trusted anybody else with after you, and Mapi was incredibly reluctant to allow you back in.
Even so, neither girl could get the way that you were acting around them out of their heads. You were acting strange, and while Ingrid didn’t want to bring it up with Mapi due to the fact that the girl was still hurt over you, she felt like you needed help.
Both girls were confined to simply watching from the sidelines, aware that there was something wrong with you. What they didn’t realize, however, was that they were what was wrong with you.
-----
Two hours later found you driving to your captains’ residence for a mandatory team bonding movie night. 
You were all too aware of the fact that you were late to the event, having been unable to decide what to wear. You wanted to look nice– for Ingrid and Mapi… and the rest of the team, of course, to make a good first impression on them outside of training. 
However, you continually shrugged off each article of clothing that you put on. Each piece was either too formal for a movie night, too informal, too baggy, too tight… nothing was making you feel like you needed to feel.
Finally, after half an hour spent debating, you settled on a Barcelona team hoodie which you’d received that morning and a pair of plain black shorts. You slid a pair of socks and sandals on, a style which you refused to drop despite many of your friends making fun of you for it. Then, you were out the door, jogging towards your car in the parking garage as you realized you should have been at your captains’ house five minutes ago.
You hummed along to whatever Spanish song was playing on the radio, as you couldn’t be bothered to waste time by connecting your phone to the bluetooth speaker of the vehicle. Your thumbs tabbed nervously against the leather of the cars’ steering wheel, and you tried not to think about how nervous you were.
You tried especially hard to not think about who was making you so nervous.
The minute that Alexia’s door was opened for you, however, you caught sight of the two girls who were, by this point, living in your head rent free. Really, you should have considered asking them for money for the way that they were in your mind most of the time.
Faintly, you registered the sound of Alexia shutting her front door behind you. Then, you felt her hand on one of your shoulders as she ushered you further into her home. Mapi and Ingrid’s gazes both tracked up to you, but as soon as they were looking at you, your gaze looked away.
You shuffled awkwardly towards the rest of the team, your gaze almost panicked in the way that it was trying to find a place for you to sit down. 
You’d never been so jumpy or nervous around other people before. Now, however, you felt like a fish out of water with the way you were struggling in front of these strangers. You could usually fit into any crowd like a glove, but were struggling to do so now, when it mattered to you and your career. You figured it was due to the tension between Mapi, Ingrid, and yourself. 
Your hands tapped nervously at your sides, fingers shaky. Your nervousness was obvious to everyone in the room, and each girl ached to comfort you. However, due to the fact that you were new and none of the girls really knew you, they didn’t know how.
Slowly, Mapi shifted over. The way you looked– so small and exhausted, was unlike the person she was used to seeing from you. She wanted to help you, despite the fact that she still held a grudge against you. She’d tried so, so hard to bury her feelings for you, but she couldn’t help but still care for you. 
She still noticed the small things that had made her fall in love with you in the first place. Your kind eyes, and your smile, as well as the way you always checked in on the people around you. You were always keeping an eye out for your teammates, your friends, and your family, and you had a passion about you and a stubbornness that reminded Mapi so much of her own. 
Before Mapi could think better of it, she was raising her hand for you to sit in the space that she’d cleared for you– a small space between her and Ingrid. If you sat there, it would mean that you’d be squished between your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend.
Ingrid tried not to let the surprise show on her face as Mapi moved and beckoned you to come sit between them. She watched your face carefully, however, and surveyed the nervous expression on your face. So many emotions flitted across your facial features– surprise, confusion, and an emotion that she couldn’t really recognize. 
You were conflicted, trying to figure out whether you physically and emotionally could sit between the girls. You knew what their touch did to you, and you felt like they would simply overwhelm you if you went to them. On the other hand, the space between them was the only one available, and you didn’t want to turn Mapi’s kind gesture down. 
You began to make your way over, all-too-aware of the way your nerves heightened as you stepped closer to the couple. Suddenly, though, someone grabbed at your ankle, nearly tripping you. 
You looked down and nearly screamed in relief as you recognized your England Lionesses’ teammates. Lucy and Keira were bundled up in a blanket on the ground, sharing a bowl of popcorn between them. 
You didn’t think either girl knew about your history with Mapi, but you knew Keira could sense your nerves in the way she was looking at you. It was similar to the way Alexia had treated you earlier– like a wild animal. 
Keira patted the seat beside her, going so far as to lift the edge of the blanket for you to scoot in. Gratefully, you sat down beside her, not daring to risk looking behind you.
If you had, you would have seen the way Mapi frowned at you. The Spanish woman had, despite herself, wanted to sit next to you and Ingrid. She didn’t know why, but she felt like it was right, and a part of you missed your touch… your presence, actually. 
When you’d smiled at Ingrid earlier, Mapi had been insanely jealous. 
At first, she thought she’d been jealous of you, because she’d always been rather protective of Ingrid. However, Mapi later realized that she’d been jealous of Ingrid. The older woman knew that she still had feelings for you, of course, but she was slowly beginning to realize that she had feelings for both Ingrid and you, which was sending her into a downward spiral of confusion. 
Ingrid, too, was in a similar position to you and Mapi. She had yet to broach the topic with her girlfriend but, as she watched Mapi look at you, she realized that she would have to talk to Mapi sooner rather than later. She recognized the emotion that she’d seen on your face only moments ago, because it was now on Mapi’s face and, more than likely, on her own. 
Love. No matter how shallow the feeling, Ingrid could recognize the flickering emotion within her heart– a shy nervousness that impacted her whenever she interacted with you, or Mapi. 
You were unaware of the conflicted thoughts that the couple was going through behind you, however. As soon as Keira wrapped her spare arm around your shoulders, you rested your head against the girls’ chest. You and Keira had always been close on your national teams, having played together for a very long time and had similar personalities that allowed you to understand each other. 
You felt safe enough in her arms, and that safety allowed you to fall asleep for the first time in longer than you cared to admit. As soon as Keira realized that your breaths had turned deep and that you’d become limp against her, Keira refused to move.
She’d recognized your exhaustion during practice and wanted you to sleep as much as possible. 
For an hour and a half, you slept fully and contentedly against one of your best friends’ shoulders. For an hour and a half, your thoughts were cleared of anything related to a certain Spanish or Norwegian woman. For an hour and a half, you knew peace.
Then, you woke up to Mapi shaking you awake. The girl was gentle with her grip, and you were confused for a moment. Your hand raised before you could think better of the motion, and you slapped her hand away.
Mapi backed up a step, her face speaking volumes for how hurt she was by the action. You saw pain behind her expression, and you felt instant regret for the way which you’d shoved her away. You could barely stand to be touched by the woman that you couldn’t have, because she made you feel things that you hadn’t felt for years.
Her girlfriend behind her gently took her hand, drawing her close to her. Ingrid looked at you over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t look angry, just confused and concerned, but she didn’t speak as she and Mapi walked away from your bundled form on the floor. 
You had half a mind to get up and run after them. You yearned to scream your feelings for them out loud, just to get them out of your head. 
You realized how ridiculous the idea was as soon as you thought of it. Instead, you were sentenced to watching the couple walk away from you, aching to comfort them and aching for them to comfort you. 
As it was, you weren’t apart of their relationship, and you knew that you didn’t deserve the comfort that you ached for. As the door shut behind them, you tried to blink away the tears which threatened to spill out of your eyes, dismissing yourself as well. 
You quickly got up, leaving the room to find Alexia’s bathroom. There, you rapidly splashed cold water on your face to try to break yourself out of the reverie you were in.
It did nothing but shock your system and, as you rested your forearms against the white porcelain of Alexia’s bathroom sink, your eyes observed your exhausted form in the mirror. 
There you’d gone, breaking the promise that you’d made to yourself– the promise you’d made to get rid of the feelings you’d had for the couple. 
As a tear flitted down your pale cheek, you wondered if ignoring your feelings would be the end of you. However, you reminded yourself that you would only make things worse by having feelings for the pair. 
You had to keep your promise, even if it meant feeling nothing at all ever again. 
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Can I request Astarion x reader and he drinks from u when your standing and your legs buckle and you start to collapse from the blood loss but he catches you and Carries you to your bedroll and takes care of you?
Forgive me if it's rough, still trying to figure out the speech patterns!
Recommended Song: Ivy - SALES
It usually wasn’t often that Astarion asked to feed on you. Sadly, resources have been scarce, wild animals included. Anytime Lae’zel is out scouting she tries to bring something back for him, but to no avail. Recently, he had been asking quite often, and there is always an air of guilt in his question. 
“I’m sorry to ask my love, I just worry the others will see me differently, if I were to feed on one of them.”
It’s not as if your other companions aren’t aware of his situation, or the fact that you have to satiate him every once in a while. You think he simply feels like a burden, having to ask people for the very thing that sustains him. He just feels a little less like a burden when he asks you.
“Of course dear, no need to be sorry.”
You’ve gotten used to how this goes, as you’ve been travelling together for quite some time, and you and Astarion got smitten rather quickly. He’s always quite gentle, even if it does hurt at first. Instead of sitting down however, you continue working on stitching up a piece of your sleep-wear. With powerful magic from the likes of Gale and Shadowheart, you think such minute things could be fixed easily, but alas, they still require a realistic solution.
While you’re busy putting to work the simple stitch he taught you, Astarion moves to drink, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Many would think that the act of being drained of your own blood would be, well, terrifying, but something about it is quite intimate, heartwarming even. You don’t even really think about how your veins start running cold, how you start to feel much worse than normal. Then, you’re on the ground, needle and thread along with you. 
“Darling! I apologize, I should’ve had you lie down first, I should’ve-” 
He cuts off his own words as he scrambles to think. You’re still not fully there, but you want to tell him you’re fine. Sadly, eyes can’t always tell all. Even your parasite seems too drained to connect with him. When you regain some of your senses, you see that Astarion has brought you back to your bedroll, muttering something to himself, pacing the tent.
“I could’ve waited, I would’ve been fine. I-”
He pauses, realizing you’ve started to stir.
“Tav, darling, are you alright?”
You try sitting up, and he quickly moves to support your back, wrapping his arm around you waist.
“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.”
“I apologize, I knew it was a risk to feed on you again so soon. I put you in a terrible position, asking you like that.”
You reach to put your hand over his.
“No, it’s alright. I’ve become so nonchalant about it, I should’ve been much more considerate of the circumstances.”
He’s silent, trying to find another way to blame himself. The truth is, both of you were quite tired from the recent adventuring, and weren’t thinking straight. 
“I’ll tell them all we should stay at camp for another day. Or perhaps they can journey back to the Grove and we can stay for another evening.”
You tighten your grasp on his hand until he finally make eye contact with you.
“Astarion, it’s fine, truly. I’ll be fine tomorrow, come morning.”
You smile at him, despite the nausea caught in your throat. He feels bad enough, no use in making it worse. 
“Here, come lie with me.”
You meet the ground once again, and he joins you shortly after. He still has that look, that dreary mist across his eyes. Instead of trying to tell him in words, you nestle into his side, wrapping yourself around him, a way of saying ‘I still love you, no matter what.’ He leaves a kiss on your forehead, and finally lets the tension go. You close your eyes soon after, exhausted. Astarion never tells you, but he stayed awake and by your side the entire night, unmoving, just in case.
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georgiapeach30513 · 18 days
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With Your Touch, Part 3
Summary: you had rules.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings:  explicit language, teasing, The Verb, grinding, spanking, tension, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5.2K
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*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Lloyd didn’t lie. Being an early riser, you thought you would see him, but alas he had already left. You walk into Lyla’s bedroom, and see her still sleeping soundly. Her little lips pucker out looking all comfortable and cozy. Her fingers twitching makes you watch her a bit longer. Seeing her already relaxed in this very new environment. Unaware of whatever her mother did to get her here. It’s refreshing to think that she won’t ever remember the life before now.
How could a mother do that to her child? Well, a baby. And Lyla is the sweetest little thing. You had heard her cry a few times in the middle of the night. Even woke up. Listening as Lloyd walked to her room and soothed his daughter. The part that got you was after her cries had stopped he lingered in there a bit longer than you thought necessary. Thinking that maybe he had just been watching her.
It is foreign and yet still one of the sweetest things. You had heard about daddy’s girls, and father’s that adored their daughters. But in this world, you’ve never seen it. Why was he so different? And why did his behavior intrigue you so much? And the dumbass brought up your daddy issues. You did not have daddy issues. Your mother did a great job. And you had a stepfather. He wasn’t terrible. But he did treat you differently than your brother.
You didn’t have daddy issues. That much you know is true. You just had a soft spot for…something. You aren’t even sure what you’re feeling. What you’ve been feeling since being in his apartment, but you are going to blame it on Lloyd. It truly was him. What the fuck even was that last night?
Softly closing her door you venture into the kitchen for some coffee. You need it this morning. What even was that? Why did you — feel? That was the weirdest experience. Something that should have made you uncomfortable, or at the least pissed you off, but it did not. In fact you went to bed confused, and uncomfortably turned on. That shouldn’t have happened, and it did. And you’re left with lingering questions that you have no brain capacity to answer currently.
You couldn’t believe that you allowed this man to command you. Not just you physically but also mentally. Because yes, you had stayed up way too late running the events through your head. He made you ramen noodles. You had pasta with him twice. In one day. And now you’re being such a girl and overthinking everything.
But how could you not? He called out your lack of panties. Was he offering sex when he said if you wanted more than a dildo? That is what it seemed. Thoughts run rampant in your mind as you take a sip of the bitter brew. Moaning at how just the smell alone was waking you up. Sleep evaded you because of these fucking thoughts. And he had to know what he was doing. He mentioned spanking you!
Was he on a power trip? Or maybe it was more than that. And you sound crazy again. You were here to do a job, and that’s what you need to do. Hearing Lyla squeak out some cries, you pour the rest of your coffee down the drain, and walk towards her room. Giving her a big smile when you walk in, and she answers by pouting that lip out and whimpering.
“Oh my goodness. Did Miss Lyla Bee not sleep well, princess? Come here,” leaning over the crib, you pick her up. Holding her close to your chest, you bounce the baby around until her little cries stop. “Are you ready to get you changed and ready for the day? We have such a big day, you and me. We’re going to have some belly time, and we’ll go on a long walk in the park. And you’re probably going to sleep and drink your milk all day.”
She gurgles up at you, and even though she can’t talk, you just know you’re going to enjoy being here with her. There is a thing or two you could learn about yourself by keeping Lyla.
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“Peekaboo!” Leaning over Lyla, you pull your hands away from your face waiting for her squealing laugh as the cutest toothless grin smiles up at you. Using your hands to tickle her sides before you hide your face again.
”Peekaboo!” She giggles so loud, kicking her feet around. Eyes shining up at you. She is adorable. All dressed up in her luxurious baby outfit that is full of pink. She may look sweet and adorable, but this is already her second outfit for the day, and she couldn’t even crawl. “You are a messy little thing, you know that?”
She laughs again. Clenching her fists together. “But you are cute!” More laughter rings out from this tiny little thing on the floor. Using her body to roll over onto her belly, and she lifts up her head to look at you, “I am new to this, and I don’t know if this is normal, but I want to celebrate you rolling over! Oh my gosh, that is so cute. Do it again,” you flip her body over, and she quickly rolls back onto her belly.
Lifting up to look at you with a gummy smile. “Why are you so cute?” You squeal, laying on your belly to look at her. “I think you are the most adorable and smart baby in the world, did you know that?” Her mouth opens and closes a bit. Giving you a look of pure adoration, and you soak it all up.
“You don’t do much, but what you do do is incredible. And,” you give her a quick boop to her nose, and she lets out what you could only assume is a giggle, “Yes, you are so cute, and you have your daddy wrapped around your little finger. Yes you do. Do you know if your daddy is dating anyone? He’s a bit…he’s different, ya know?”
“Lloyd!” Ari shouts behind his colleague, and the man turns to glare at him. “What are you doing looking at your phone?” The wider man grabs the device out of his hand, and starts laughing as he looks at Lloyd, “Oh, I see.”
“You see my daughter. Now give me the fucking phone back.”
“No, I see creepy Lloyd watching his daughter’s au pair. Laying on the floor with her ass perfectly placed. Imagine she was naked looking back at you with those innocent eyes. Lifting up that perfect ass for you to rail into her,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. Locking his phone as he settles down in the chair in front of Ari, glaring at him.
“You haven’t thought about fucking that?”
“‘That’ like she’s a possession.”
“Oh, come now, has Lloyd Hansen grown a conscience? You’ve got to be kidding me. You got you a baby girl, and now you want to value women? She’s living in your fucking apartment, and you haven’t even tried?” Ari didn’t need to know exactly what happened. He’d never hear the end of it.
“Didn’t say that,” Lloyd begins, but shakes his head no. “It’s fucking complicated, you know? She’s Roman’s spawn. And she has a job to do, and none of that requires bobbing her mouth on my cock. She is there to watch Lyla Beatrice when I can’t,” Ari smirks, nodding his head, and not believing anything that Lloyd says.
“She’s not a whore wanting to be used.”
“How do you know that?” Lloyd didn’t know that. In fact what he did know was you were obedient, and reacted to him. He could feel the heat wafting off you. Could smell your scent change when he set you on fire. The Verb could not possibly give you all that you deserved in any way shape or form. There is no way that he could treat you like both the princess and slut that you craved.
“She’s got a,” Lloyd wants to retch for even saying the words in the same sentence. “A boyfriend,” Ari lets out a long chuckle, framing his beard with his fingers as he watches the usually in control Lloyd. “And he’s a damn problem.”
“Why is that, sunshine?”
“Because he wants to assert dominance over me. In my fucking house! They’re mine.”
“Who is yours Lloyd?” Ari’s mouth turns up into a devilish smile, and Lloyd pounds his fist on the desk. Ari truly didn’t understand the predicament Lloyd had placed himself in, “Easy there. You wouldn’t want to show your dominance by your temper tantrums.”
“Lyla and her au pair are mine,” he speaks through his teeth. Contemplating on the ways he could get rid of The Verb. It wouldn’t be long. He couldn’t handle staying away from you. He couldn’t possibly know what it takes to be a man that has to be away. He’s young and needy. Stupid and impulsive. It was a matter of time before he messed up.
“So you just want to own her?”
“I pay for her,” Ari purses his lips as he squints at Lloyd, “And I sound like an ass. No, I don’t want to own her.”
“You want to devour her.”
“Shut up,” Lloyd is never the one to concede an argument, so Ari lets it go. Realizing there is much more to whatever is bothering Lloyd, and his lingering obsession with watching you.
Just as he starts to speak up, he gets an alert on his phone, and he grabs it up immediately. Having nothing to do with his job, but there he is. The Verb. The ingrown hair on his perfectly round ass. Standing at the door of his apartment while you hold a slowly drifting asleep Lyla. You stare up at him with a bit of fear in your eyes.
“I will enjoy slowly murdering that boy.”
“You could just show him who is boss,” Lloyd places a finger over his mouth as he turns up the volume. He needs to see your reaction to The Verb being there.
You gulp as you stare at Chase. Giving Lyla a quick glance as you rub a finger over her soft cheek. You need to remember you have a child in your hands, and unfortunately she is about to be used as a barrier.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you don’t even fully open the door. Lloyd was very clear on his rules, no Chase in his home. “I’m working,” you add in, looking back down at Lyla who had fully drifted to sleep. What could you do to wake her up? Keep her interfering in this conversation that wasn’t going to end well for someone.
“Is the weirdo here?”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Fine, is the neurotic nut job that was staring at you like a personalized sex doll here?” Chase had no idea what had transpired between you and Lloyd last night, but you couldn’t forget, and feel a bit annoyed that Chase would use such words against your employee.
“Well, no, he’s not, but,” Chase pushes past you into the front door, and you check the baby to make sure she is still sleeping. “Chase, you can’t be here. There are rules, and…”
“You always follow the rules precisely as they're given,” he falls back onto the lush couch, pulling up the remote. He even turns on the TV. This isn’t going to be good. You just knew Lloyd had cameras all throughout Lyla’s room, probably everywhere you would be with her. Most definitely had a camera on the front door.
“You are always the type to shut up and listen when it comes to a man in authority. Do you know why?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me,” Chase always fancied himself the smartest person in the room. He graduated a few years ahead of you as a psychiatrist. He always assumed that you wanted him to diagnose you. You didn’t. You wanted to have fun, and let off some steam. You didn’t care about his psychoanalysis bullshit. You were doing just fine.
“Because your father left you. Your mother never took up for you concerning your step father, and now you want to be perfect. Hoping that one of the three will not only notice, but will praise you for your good work. It’s why you took this job. You’re in no way equipped to raise a child, but daddy asked you to. So you obliged, and here you are. Of course he stuck you with some weirdo that was looking you up and down, and all I see is my girlfriend being in a place where she is going to let a man she doesn’t know dictate what she needs to do because he’s become your replacement for your father who never loved you apart from being an accessory. And a step father who loved his son, and tolerated you, and a mother who looked at you like a burden because she couldn’t have her perfect life with her new husband.”
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? All of that was not necessary. I didn’t even ask for it. You just opened your arrogant mouth and told me, and it's not true,” he throws both arms over the couch, giving you a cocky little grin and it infuriates you. “It’s not. And I told you months ago I didn’t want to be analyzed.”
“Because you know I’m right. Poor little rich girl. You’re no different than the rest of us. Our parents fucked us up in the head, and now we’re doing what we must to survive. Except you have become a glorified babysitter, and if that jerk has it his way, a blow up doll for his enjoyment,” how could he even say something like that? Like you didn’t even have agency on what you wanted.
“The man pays well, but you’re still under the thumb of a man in power.”
“Is this what this is? You don’t get to power me, so you’re trying to wear me down in hopes that you can?”
His bright blue eyes stare too long at you, while you look at Lyla. Despite the conversation at hand, she remained sleeping peacefully. “Put the baby up, and quit using her as a shield. You know that I’m right, and you’re now refusing to make out with your boyfriend because of the man in charge told you I shouldn’t be here, huh? It’s not your rules, but his. And you’re going to make sure you follow every single one of them. Now, put the baby in her room, and talk to me like an adult. Or are you too scared?”
“She wasn’t held enough when she was with her mom, and she sleeps better when she’s being held.”
“Excuses. Excuses, Dolly,” he almost sneers at you when you pop your sight in his direction. “Go on, go put the baby up. I love when we get into our little debates, and I don’t want to wake the sleeping cherub. Go on,” you didn’t want to have the conversation, or wake her up. And with the way Chase is right now, you’re going to have to do one of them.
You spin on your heels, and walk towards her bedroom. Giving her forehead a kiss before walking back into the living room, and Chase rubs his thighs. Rebelling just enough you sit on the couch beside him, but pull the remote out of his hand, turning off the television. “I told you that you shouldn’t be here.”
“We’re debating.”
“No, you are. And Lloyd doesn’t want strange men in his house. And…”
”I’m your boyfriend. I think it’ll be okay. It’s not like I’m some stranger. We’ve had fun this past year. And,” he pulls your legs over on top of his, running a smooth hand up your thigh before he lifts himself up. Pushing you to lay flat on your back while he hovers over you. “What are you scared about?”
“Losing a job.”
He presses his mouth against your neck as you start to melt a bit. Feeling the heat from his body, coupled with the intense tension you still felt from last night you weaken, “Daddy dearest won’t let that happen,” he whispers against your neck, and you throw all caution into the wind. Lloyd is at work. You aren’t doing anything in front of his daughter. He couldn’t keep you from Chase.
Chase’s thigh goes between your own, and he chuckles when you start to grind on him, “You’re always so needy, sweetheart,” you want to cuss him, and tell him to just get a quickie in. Anytime he talks the paranoia slightly kicks back in. Paranoia, frustration, and being horny isn’t the best combination.
“Shh,” you moan, pulling his mouth towards yours while your fingers fiddle around with his stupid pants. Who needs pants anyways? Stopping a bit to rub over his growing bulge while you mewl his name. “Chase, I…”
He has your panties and leggings halfway pulled down your legs. His hand running through your slick when the front door to the apartment slings open, “I thought I gave you very explicit instructions. The Verb goes immediately!”
“Lloyd,” pushing Chase off your body, you sit up, and stare down at your bare legs. Biting at your lip, and looking between the men. “He was — he was just visiting, and…”
“I said no!” He leans towards Chase getting his face inches away from your boyfriend’s, and his whispered threat is more menacing than any of his yelling, “I said go immediately,” Chase looks at you, saying your name, but you shake your head, “Now!”
He screams so loud you can hear Lyla’s pitiful whimpers from her room. It takes Chase a beat too long to stand up. He buttons up his pants, and gives you a regretful look, but you stare down at your legs like a scolded child. Still afraid to move even though you're exposed when Chase walks out the door, leaving you alone with your neurotic boss.
“I thought I told you…”
“I’m sorry,” your voice is meek and hardly audible, and your eyes never meet his. “He barged in on me. I didn’t ask him to, and he was insistent, and — Lloyd, I’m sorry,” he takes a step back from you. Glancing down at your pants, and barely there underwear before he looks back into your eyes. “I didn’t…”
“I can make sure he never bothers you again.”
“I don’t want you to kill him!”
“And I thought I told you not to be out of your room with no panties on,” your body straightens up, and you glare up at him. Daring to make due on the promise he made you last night. “Stand up,” you shake your head no, and before you can count to three Lloyd is sitting on the couch, and pulling your body over his lap.
Your hands cover your backside, in hopes of not being so exposed, but he swats them away. Gritting through his teeth before he holds both your hands behind your back, and your ass as naked as the day you were born right there for him. “Please, Lloyd, don’t.”
“You knew the rules,” his voice growls as he slaps your left cheek hard. “Count,” you stay silent, and he smacks the other cheek, “I said count, goddammit.”
“Two!” You cry out only to hear him laugh. “Two!”
“You missed the first time, so we’re starting all over again. Let’s make this quick, Dolly, my daughter needs you,” smack! You blubber out one, and his hand smooths over the sphere of your ass with a smile, “Good girl. Now let’s get to five, and I’ll let you get Lyla Bee, so we can have a little talk. Okay?”
“Okay,” you whine, and he spanks you again, “Two.”
Slap. “Three,” this is humiliating, and the worst part is you didn’t hate it. He is giving you more attention than your father or stepfather ever did. Smack. “Four,” it stings, and burns, but when you look back at him, he has a proud smile on his face, and you arch your back to push your ass more into his view.
Spreading your legs a bit so he can also see between your thighs, and you get the hardest slap yet. His hand lingers on your ass, and those large fingers stroke the tender skin softly, “Five,” you weakly say, and he pulls you into a standing position right in front of him.
His face completely facing your exposed core, and he pulls up your panties first. Grinning up at you before the black leggings are pulled up your body, and he taps your hips a few times, “There, there, you did such a good job,” he isn’t even flinching, or looking up at you. He continues to stare at your covered pussy, taking slower, deeper breaths as he inhales your aroma.
“I believe Lyla is still crying. Why don’t you go fetch her,” his voice is so even and deep, showing no emotions as to what just transpired. How is he so calm? “Dolly, you have a job to do,” those eyes look up at you, and his pupils are so wide, very little of the blue is peeking through. Just deep pools of black. Giving him the appearance of being high from spanking you, “Dolly, I need you to get my daughter.”
Giving him a nod, you walk into Lyla’s room, and her sweet face is turned up, and she swishes around trying to find someone that is normally there to comfort her. Been with Lloyd for such a short time, and is already spoiled on touch, “Hey, miss Lyla Bee,” her lips tremble as she looks up at you, trying to calm herself.
It isn’t until you pick her up, and hold her close to your chest that she starts snuggling into you. Calming down even more, “Oh, honey, I’ve got you. I’m right here,” Lloyd listens to your sweet words to Lyla as he cracks his neck. You were going to be the death of him. Twice he took things too far.
But he did warn you what would happen if you didn’t have panties on. And dammit you were right there looking so pretty and…he shouldn't have looked, but he did. Delectable is the perfect word to describe that moment. And you weren’t all innocent in it. You enjoyed it. He could tell from the heat pulsating off your core, and the wet spot that lingers on his leg. You wanted him to see your cunt, so he did look. Trouble. You were the devil for him.
“There’s your daddy,” you coo, bringing Lyla into the living room with you, and she gives Lloyd a sweet smile. “Tell him that you were asleep the whole time.”
“Dolly, do you know why I don’t want that boy here?”
“Because your jealous? Oh — um,” you press your hand over your mouth, wondering if putting your foot in your mouth was an option. “I mean…what I meant to say is…”
“I don’t get jealous. I can have whatever the fuck I want. And what I want is for my daughter to be safe. You may not know it because I’m keeping you and her away from my business, but I am a feared and known man. I have many enemies, and people willing to pay millions of dollars to see me crumble. They want my weaknesses. They want to see me tortured slowly. And do you know what my weakness is?” You shake your head no as you look at the coffee table. Unable to stare at him, and you’re not even sure why.
It is hard to even look at the sweet girl’s face that you’re holding. You feel ashamed. You did have the one rule, and Chase was seeing to it that it was the one that was broken. “My weakness is that tiny little girl in your arms. And you by extension. I have to trust you.”
“I get that, I really do, but —“
“There’s no buts here. There are real people who will not hesitate to kill you or Lyla. Do you understand that?”
“I do. But Chase isn’t one of them, and you want me to break up with him, and —“
He is always interrupting you. He never lets you finish a thought before he tells you what is going to happen. “Keep the fucking asshole. I just don’t want him in my damn house. And just for the record,” Lloyd reaches over towards you to get the baby. Moving his gaze to her instead of you. Almost like it pained him to see you. “You deserve more than that boy can give you. He’s an asshole.”
“You don’t know him,” you only feel like defending him because hearing someone call Chase an asshole reflected on your choice for keeping him. It is silly, but it’s the truth. Chase had his flaws, but he wasn’t all bad.
“I heard what he said to you,” you look up at him, figuring he had cameras in the main rooms, and Lyla’s room. It shouldn’t surprise you, but realizing Lloyd heard Chase’s psychoanalysis was heard by Lloyd is infuriating. “Even if it's true, he shouldn’t have said that to you. You’re not his patient, so don’t let him treat you like one,” he slowly stands up. Leaning over to hand Lyla back to you. “I’m going back to work. Don’t make me regret not spanking you five more times. I mean what I say. Panties off in the bedroom. Panties on out here.”
Lloyd stomps back towards the door. Never giving you and Lyla another glance as he hurries out of the apartment. Sighing as he adjusts his jeans. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had dwelling between his legs. He wouldn’t allow that moment to be a weakness. You had no effect on him. None.
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Lloyd’s dark gaze finds you as you walk out of your bedroom. Wincing on your way into the living room, but you walk past him and into the kitchen. You didn’t know what to say to Lloyd. You had betrayed his trust. He saw you a bit more intimately than he needed to. There’s a lingering embarrassment in the pit of your stomach, and your damn ass hurts.
Grabbing out the things to make a quick snack, you turn around, and there he is. Still glowering at you. His brow is still low on his forehead as he watches you get out different noodles than the first night. Clearly, you and Lloyd had a noodle thing. “Would you like some butter noodles, too?”
“If you’re offering,” he responds solemnly, and you answer with a curt nod. He won’t apologize to you, of that you’re sure of. You just would have to put your foot down a bit more concerning Chase.
“Where do you all have cameras?”
“Anywhere that Lyla will be,” there’s no emotion in his voice, it's just the factual evidence. You aren’t sure where to take the conversation from there. Standing in silence is crippling. It’s like the air in the kitchen is so thick you can’t even breathe. “How is your, um, your ass?”
You snort as you glance back at him. He isn’t as quick with averting his gaze from the subject at hand. “It’s sore,” well, what else are you supposed to say? It feels amazing, thank you for showing me who is boss. I promise to never disobey you ever again.
“Do you understand why I did it?”
The spoon falls onto the counter loudly and you saunter over to the kitchen island where he resides, and lean over it, demanding he looks at you. He does, but his chin is still jutted up. He’s still in control, “Please, don’t try to parent me. I’m a grown woman.”
“People who say that are often trying to convince themselves of that. I’m not parenting though. I have my rules, and I expect you to follow them. That’s strike one. The only reason you’re still even here is because of Roman,” you begin to speak, but he smirks, shaking his head, and you immediately stop talking.
“You do know how to listen, even if it’s not words, I’m impressed. You are Roman’s daughter, and he has been loyal to me. I really don’t give a fuck about him not being present in your life,” his mouth twitches, and you slowly retreat from him. He stops you by wrapping a hand behind your neck, holding you in place. “He knows who I am, and trusted me with his precious daughter.”
“He was just a sperm donor.”
“And for some unknown reason, I like you,” your eyes brighten, and a slight smile pulls up your mouth, “Don’t get to excited, Dolly,” he slides over a tube of cream, and you glance down at it confused, “It’ll help your ass,” is he giving you some form of relief? He sees you uncomfortable and is offering aftercare. Not at all what you had assumed of Lloyd Hansen.
“I should finish the noodles,” you finally pull away from him leaving the cream untouched on the island as you separate the noodles into the bowl. You slide over his bowl, but remain standing as you take a bite.
“Are you struggling to sit down?”
“I think that’s quite obvious, Lloyd.”
“The cream would help.”
“Then why don’t you put it on me since it was you that caused it?”
Lloyd takes a slow bite of his buttery noodles, and then another. Keeping those cool blue eyes on you the entire time he finishes his bowl before letting his fork drop into the bowl with a clink. He stands up, walking around you as he cleans up the mess you made before his body towers behind you.
Leaning his head around you until his mouth is right at the shell of your ear, “Put it on yourself,” he starts to walk back to his bedroom before stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, “Make sure you clean up your mess,” even though you can’t see his face, he smiles. He still had control. And if you want him to put anything on you, you need to learn how to ask with manners. He wouldn’t be commanded. He was the one in control. Despite the strain in his pants. Fucking nymph.
You exhale, not even realizing you had been holding your breath. Sweat beads around your hairline, and you struggle to control your breathing. What is he doing to you to make you feel so…weak? Did you actually want him to see your ass again?
“Ugh,” you groan as you put away your dishes, and grab up the cream. Stopping outside of Lloyd’s bedroom when you hear the shower on, and an angry groan. Moan? You aren’t sure. He sounds like he’s not happy with his shower.
If he wanted to ice you out while also exposing you, you could do the same. You let a phone call from Chase go to voicemail. You weren’t in the mood for his games, or even whatever brand of medicine he had to offer. You are sore, and still left —
Wanting.
Needing.
Fuck Lloyd Hansen.
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208 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 8 months
Note
Hi! I love your works, especially the baki ones. Is it okay for me to request something, like a continuation from your last pickle fic, where the reader is baki's S/O. What if the cute stage then develops into a "potential mate" type?
I really feel like baki would instantly go full on Hanma on pickle tbh, can I get your take on it/headcannon regarding this?
-🍲 anon
I had been wondering if I should leave it as purely platonic or include some tension, so I can definitely do that! Thank you for the suggestion!
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Baki Headcanons: Pickle meets Baki’s significant other (II)
Featuring Baki, his cute partner and a Pickle who’s starting to reconsider their playful friendship.
Pickle may be somewhat primitive compared to modern times, but on the social front at least he is very much aware of the nuances that come with a relationship. He’s had friends and mates and knows the difference between the two. Therefore, he’s not entirely ignorant of the current circumstances: you’re Baki’s mate and more of a playmate to himself.
This at least has been made clear to him, sure. But, and here comes the but, having a mate is not some arbitrary decision to be set in stone. It’s more a matter of competition and what one has to offer. And as much as he enjoys the little games you’ve devised and the overall bonding activities, he really can’t help the little tug that bothers his heart every time he looks at you. What is life about if not following one’s wishes and desires?
Even before he reaches this conclusion there’s plenty of hints that unfortunately go over your innocent obliviousness. The hugs that drag along more than usual. The focused gaze that disregards any other distraction. Pickle’s hair ruffles that linger a moment too long as his hand subconsciously wanders to your cheek instead. Baki has been doing his best to ignore the little flirting attempts to avoid you teasingly calling him jealous. He has nothing to worry about, in any case. Right?
Pickle sees his opportunity and does not hesitate to seize it: what better way to show you that he’s a superior choice than utterly defeating and humiliating your tiny boyfriend? When Baki approaches him with the challenge proposal, the large prehistoric man is nearly dizzy with excitement. After the speedy quarrel that leaves the young boy unconscious, Pickle hastily approaches you and does his best to imitate the strange lip contact he’s often observed you initiating with Baki. Your high pitched reaction of surprise is enough to have Baki awake and instantly back on his feet.
Needles to say that an angered Hanma is a scary opponent. You have to plead for the bloodied outcome to stop before Baki does anything regretful. Seeing your boyfriend’s wild, predatory expression quickly drains the blood from your face and reminds you the kind of family you’ve joined. Pickle doesn’t exactly share your fear. He’s certainly shocked about the sudden twist in strength, but more than anything he’s frustrated with himself for losing the bet that would’ve guaranteed your companionship.
Alas, the Jurassic man does not give up just like that. Perhaps being at the top of the food chain for so long has gotten him rusty, too comfortable with his skills. This was an embarrassing reminder that there’s room for improvement. Maybe he’ll even give it a try to these mysterious techniques the previous fighters displayed. He can take his time. But one thing is to be established and indisputable: you will be his mate sooner or later.
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valeriianz · 4 months
Note
Smutty fic idea prompts - 36 is just perfect for Dreamling please?
36: A rolls sleeves up/takes shirt off, revealing body hair to B. B has no idea how to act normal around A anymore.
Hob dresses up as Sexy Santa for a staff party and Dream absolutely loses his cool <3
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These days, Dream finds himself as the newest addition to Johanna Constantine’s friend group. It’s quite nice of her, if not a little presumptuous, to drag him along to nearly every social outing and local music show in order to introduce him to as many people in her network as possible. The only reason they are still friends, Dream and Jo, is the small mercy of her not putting up a fuss when his social battery has been drained and he awkwardly dips out.
The best thing to come out of these adventures, at least, is meeting Hob Gadling.
Hob and Jo go way back, or so she’d announced the first time he and Dream had met. At a bar where the lights were low but Hob’s natural charisma and warm smile had radiated through anyway. They got along immediately, exchanging intellectual conversations where Hob had surprising takes and kept Dream’s interest; kept the dialogue fresh and spontaneous. Dream didn’t even need to contribute much while sharing a space with Hob, he could simply sip on his gin something-or-other and listen as Hob went on passionate rants about revolutions or human invention over the past centuries– each time they met up he’d go down a 100 years. Or complaining about how washed up Shakespeare was (an argument Dream allowed himself to fall into and they’d talked about all night, much to Johanna’s chagrin and massive eye roll, muttering a very clear “nerds” under her breath).
Chemistry aside, Dream also couldn’t deny how… effortlessly attractive Hob was.
Deep brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with barely contained mischief, chocolate dark hair with brush strokes of greys that unfairly complimented his face, and a seemingly permanent five O’clock shadow that Dream never imagined would leave him staring and daydreaming… alas, he’d discovered quite a few new things about himself around Hob.
Like how he’d imagined on more than one occasion, how easily he’d be able to lift Dream, how those broad shoulders and chest, thick biceps that even a cable knit sweater couldn’t hide– might manhandle his own body, lifting and bending him into submission. Dream ached with it; the possibilities. Was dying to kiss Hob’s plush mouth, his gaze fell to it enough, or feel the stubble of Hob’s jaw under his own palm, under his lips, along the inside of Dream’s thighs.
Hob was everything Dream was not; roguish, masculine, and unbearably kind. It was no wonder Dream had developed a crush from their very first meeting.
And maybe Hob was interested too, if you squinted. He always offered Dream a ride home, set his hand on the small of his back, his shoulder, and never seemed to stop smiling in his presence. Dream was never very good at picking up cues though– his prior relationships had been him making the first move, striking immediately at what he wanted, courting in the most by-the-book manner, before he was ultimately either rejected or caught up in a love affair that burned out before the year was up.
He didn’t want to do that with Hob. Dream held back, kept his desires at bay… because he truly enjoyed Hob’s company. It would be devastating if Hob rejected him, or worse, fell into a relationship and then realised Dream was… too much, too fast, too methodical. Dream wasn’t sure he could handle not having Hob in his life now that he’d met him. He was determined to keep him around, even if it meant remaining friends. Dream could work with that, could suffer quietly and go home after a long night of drinking or dancing and being subjected to Hob’s ever-present smile, his unwavering gaze, the warmth his body radiated, even feet apart. Could hold onto those images and sensations and close his eyes, take himself in hand, and work himself to climax in the safe darkness of his own bedroom, clenching his teeth and imagining how it might feel if it were Hob’s hands on him instead.
All of Dream’s self restraint comes crashing down about a week before Christmas, at the staff holiday party Johanna had invited him along to.
Because Hob is sitting on a large red velvet chair at the back of the venue, surrounded by cotton snow and boxed presents, wearing absolutely nothing but a Santa hat, explicitly short red and white trousers, and black boots.
It’s a mockery of what you’d see at perhaps a mall: Santa waiting to greet children and ask what they want for Christmas while his elves putter around and keep order. This is…
Obscene, is what Dream’s brain provides before it completely resets and replaces the word with animal noises.
He’d overheard Hob and Johanna talking about this, how they had a “sexy Santa” every year (because Jo’s office was mostly comprised of women who voted on it every year, vastly sweeping the competition to the point of tradition). And to save on money this year, decided to find a Santa who would do it for free, hence Jo asking Hob to do her a solid.
Dream felt heat rush through his entire body, unable to look away as Jo, Matthew, and him walked out of the foyer and into the thick of the party. Dream heard Johanna speaking, but couldn't decipher her words, his brain wiped clean by the reveal of Hob’s body, something Dream had only imagined in the safety of his own head, and kicked himself over the exclusion of hair.
So much body hair. Thick, dark hairs covered Hob’s chest like a pelt, rolling down his abs and scattered out around his soft belly. It was enough to make Dream’s mouth water, a ringing sound began in his ears, making him dizzy as he forced one foot in front of the other.
Dream had only met Hob a couple months ago, while the weather had just turned cold and they’d both only seen one another buttoned and bundled up in high necklines and long sleeves. To see Hob nearly completely nude was a shock to Dream’s system. And holy shit, Dream wanted. He had to know how those thick hairs felt between his fingers, digging them in while he sat on Hob’s lap, grinding his hips down while his own naked chest slid along Hob’s. What sounds Hob would make while Dream petted and pulled and rubbed his cock along the swell of Hob’s furred stomach.
And then Hob spotted them coming in, his smile dazzling as he stood up and waved.
Giving Dream a fantastic view of his legs, which were just as thick and strong as Dream had fantasised, and just as hairy as his top half. As well as a view of how those pants rode up enough to make Dream question if the man was wearing underwear.
Dream stumbled to the nearest restroom, locking himself in a stall and attempting to breathe and calm his erratic heart beat.
Friend, friend. Hob is your friend. Dream chanted to himself, keeping his hand out of his pants and taking deep breaths as his blood circulation regulated itself. Don’t make it weird.
Dream didn’t know how to socialise on a good day, and how with a half naked Hob in the building– shamelessly on display and humouring drunk female staff as they boldly sat on his knee– Dream felt himself shutting down entirely, spluttering and stumbling over his speech with enough velocity that he feared he'd glitch and spark out, setting the place on fire. Or at the very least, melt into a puddle of goo, the remains of his dignity soaked into the hardwood floor.
Dream tossed back drink after drink, matching Jo’s pace if only to distract his wandering thoughts, losing his jacket somewhere in the scuffle and rolling up the sleeves of his black button down.
Johanna’s laughter snapped Dream back to the present, looking down at the red solo cup in his hand and Jo standing across from him, visibly swaying on that spot. Dream doesn’t remember what he’d said to elicit such a reaction, but felt his lips curl anyway. 
“What’s so funny?”
“You, dreamboat!” Jo’s laughter simmered down to a pleasant chuckle, if not a little devious. “I thought– nah, can’t be. But holy shit, you like Hob, don’t you?”
It took several long, embarrassing seconds to figure out what Jo just asked him. Dream felt warmth spreading up his ears.
“Of course. He’s my friend–”
“Nonono–” Jo stepped into Dream’s space, landing a heavy hand on his bony shoulder. “You like him. I can tell, because you haven’t spoken to him all night.”
Dream swallowed. The alcohol was affecting his brain, sloshing it around and rendering him speechless.
Johanna smirked. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re a menace, Constantine.” Dream said, pushing her hand off him and sliding his gaze sideways to find Hob rubbing the tops of his thighs. It’d been well over an hour since they’d arrived, Dream wondered how long Hob had been sitting there, playing a role he clearly wasn’t enjoying anymore.
Jo inclined her head.
“He likes you too.”
Dream’s head snapped back to meet Jo’s eyes, searching for that tell of humour or sarcasm, and finding none.
She leaned in conspiratorially. “He told me not to tell you. Thinks your eyes are ‘dazzling’ and your hands are pretty–” she makes a face at that one. “And that your hair looks– and I quote– ‘like raven’s feathers’.”
Dream swallows, his throat suddenly dry.
“When did he tell you this?”
Jo huffs a sigh, taking a sip from her beer, her lips making a smacking sound off the bottle’s mouth.
“The night after I introduced you two.”
Dream’s heart flips over at the revelation. 
Johanna winks and shoves at Dream’s shoulder. “Now go say hi before you break his heart.”
Taking Johanna’s advice seems like a death sentence, but Dream is just drunk enough to summon courage, finishing off his drink and setting the empty cup on a random surface, before forcing his shoulders back and finally making his way towards Hob.
The smile that breaks across Hob’s face once he spots Dream is staggering, and it strikes Dream down more so than before, informed with the knowledge that Hob might like him as much as Dream does.
Dream slips his hands into the pockets of his slacks, affecting nonchalance as he finally stands before Hob.
“Hello, Hob.”
“Hey, Dream.” Hob tugs on his ear, looking up at Dream. His entire body seems to relax, even slouching a bit in the chair. “Was surprised to see you here.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I know parties aren’t really your thing.”
Dream hums, his eyes selfishly taking in their fill. This close to Hob, he can catalogue every hair, curve and freckle in greater detail, storing the information away for later.
And with Hob looking up at him, giving the illusion of superior height, an unmistakable flicker of arousal begins low in Dream’s belly. 
“I can be persuaded, from time to time.” Dream smiles, coy. The alcohol gives him a confidence boost and relaxes him further. “I apologise for not visiting you sooner.”
Hob waves it off. “I honestly didn’t expect you to. I know this is… a lot.” He gestures to himself and laughs self-deprecatingly. “I only agreed to be Sexy Santa because I owe Jo a favour.”
“It’s a fetching look on you,” Dream says, flinging himself into the deep end. He bites his bottom lip as Hob actually looks twice up at Dream, his smile falling into something like disbelief.
“O-oh. Really?” Hob laughs, but it’s small, doubtful. Dream will have to remedy that.
Dream takes a long breath, grounding himself, licking his lips before speaking what he’d wanted to say to Hob all night.
“I believe it’s my turn to ask Santa what I want for Christmas?”
The prettiest pink flush rises up Hob’s cheeks. His lips part as his eyes rove across Dream, down and up.
Despite what Johanna said, Dream feels himself shake with nerves as he tips forward, touching the top of Hob’s thigh before slowly lowering himself onto it. His eyes never leave Hob’s as he goes, silently asking for permission and receiving a nod once he’s fully seated.
Hob’s hand instantly curls around Dream’s narrow hips, holding him steady, locking him into place both upon his lap and in his gaze; wide and dark and focused.
Dream crossed one leg over the other, settling his hands on his knees, which inadvertently causes him to sway that much closer to Hob. He can feel the heat of his body, this close. Can smell something sweet and earthy, like sandalwood and pine, mixed in with something tangy that makes Dream’s mouth water. He has to hold back the urge to close the gap between them and shove his face in Hob’s chest, into the crook of his neck, under his armpit and lose his sanity. Abandon all pretence and inhale Hob like a wild animal, scent and mark him with his teeth and tongue and–
Hob swallows. Dream watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs, fascinated.
“Are you messing with me?”
Dream cocks an eyebrow. “You think me capable of jokes?”
Hob laughs, soft, wonderful. “You are. You’re the funniest person I’ve ever met.”
His thumb is pressing into Dream’s side, caressing back and forth, sending spikes of electricity through his veins and heating him up from the inside.
“No one thinks I’m funny,” Dream says matter-of-factly. 
“Well, you make me laugh,” Hob says simply, his other hand coming across Dream’s front to lace his fingers together, forming a snare around Dream that ignites something within him. “You challenge me, keep me on my toes… keep me guessing.”
Dream’s heart beats so hard against his ribs it nearly hurts. He wonders if Hob can hear it, how he makes his blood race a mile a minute. 
“I’m being very serious,” Dream takes a breath. “But if you deny me, I’ll just say I’m drunk.”
Hob laughs again, his hold around Dream tightening and nearly causing Dream’s knee to bump into Hob’s crotch.
“Are you drunk?”
Dream is very aware that they are in the middle of a party, and although the people around them seem to be paying them little attention, it would probably be inappropriate to follow the path enticing him to resituate himself on Hob’s lap to instead straddle him. To grind his barely contained semi against Hob’s flimsy excuse for shorts, while winding his arms around his shoulders and kiss him stupid.
Dream leans forward, brushing his lips along the shell of Hob’s ear and lowers his voice.
“Not enough to not know what I want.”
Hob groans, Dream can feel the vibration in his own chest as he pulls back just enough to see how his eyes have fluttered shut, swallowing again before opening his eyes and focusing on him.
“And what do you want, Dream?”
“Whatever you’ll give me,” Dream wets his lips. His hands venture up, tentatively brushing his knuckles against Hob’s bronze skin, fascinated at how snow-white his own appears against it. His fingers uncurl as he dares himself to properly touch; pushing into the soft flesh at Hob’s sides and drinking in the unmistakable sound of a choked off whine from his friend.
“I’ll take anything, Hob.”
“Holy shit–” Hob whispers, his head lolling back, exposing his throat which Dream violently refuses to latch his mouth on to.
“Okay…” Hob clears his throat, his eyes swinging over to gauge Dream again. His pupils are blown wide, hunger clear in its depths. “Okay.”
He’s looking at Dream’s mouth as he speaks again. “Meet me out back in 10 minutes?”
Dream bites back a smile and nods, his heart soaring as he climbs off Hob.
Johanna gives him a knowing look as Dream stumbles back into the crowd to find his jacket and coat, managing a wave (great, now he owed her a favour as well) before all but running out of the building to make good on his promise to Hob.
Hob makes good on his offer as well; indeed giving Dream everything he’d wanted. All night.
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that---one---kid · 5 months
Text
The cold snow
Coriolanus x Reader
AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?
Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity
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Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.
Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother  She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-” A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.
A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.
A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room.  Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him.  You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you.  A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.
Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”
 Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”
Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage w​​ith you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance.  Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way.  In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.
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baldurs-gape · 4 months
Text
Silence
There was a lot Cazador had done over two hudred years. A lot he had taken away, beaten out of or simply tainted to the point that Astarion no longer took pleasure in something. But the one thing he never could fully extinguish was Astarion's tendency to be vocal about anything and everything, usually in the form of complaining.
The tadpole and the sudden freedom was difficult to trust so Astarion kept to safe habits. He didn't miss the appreciative looks his newfound companions sent his way. As little as he was worth, Astarion knew that his value lay in his looks. Cazador had been kind enough to teach him that, had made sure he was well-built, always looked appealing to as many as possible. The price for failing was high enough that Astarion also put a lot of care into learning how to look his best.
"We're not seriously having onion, cheese and the red swill you call wine again, are we?" Astarion sighed as the group settled around the campfire.
"Don't like it, don't eat it." Lae'zel shrugged and glared at him. "Good luck foraging in the forest in the dark for something better."
Seizing the permission, Astarion sneered back as he stood up. "Fine. I'm sure I can do better." He did. Drained a whole boar and spent half the night on his back, so full that his stomach actually hurt as it stretched around so much blood.
It was the start of something. Insidious and slow in a way Cazador never had the patience for, not when it came to Astarion. The phrase "shut up, Astarion" became a daily motto to the point the others were beginning to chuckle about it. He'd heard it plenty enough before, Cazador often told him to quit his whinging. The other spawn were also prone to ignoring him. But that had been a different situation. Despite living through it for so long, Astarion knew, deep down, that it wasn't right. Cazador was just one man, one tyrant who controlled Astarion like a puppet, while the other spawn were all bitter, scared and trying to survive. To be told to shut up by them was like being stung by a wasp and being surprised about it. With his newfound allies though? Astarion had no such excuses to hide behind.
"All I'm saying is that we could go back to camp for a nice rest," he grumbled.
"Shut up and keep moving." There was a growl to Wyll's voice as he marched on at a relentless pace. It was all very well that he could continue but Astarion was tired, hungry and not in the mood to play pretend being a hero. Alas, outnumbered as he was because the others didn't slow down either, Astarion had to keep walking or risk being left behind. As it was, he didn't dare leave the safety of the group, fear of Cazador finding him was still too high.
The longer he spent at camp, the more chances he had to feed, especially as the others stopped paying him so much attention.
"Freedom suits you," Shadowheart called as he washed his shirt. "Made you softer."
Glancing down, Astarion had to think very quickly to hide his true feelings. "Darling, are you calling me fat?"
It was true though, there was a bit of give to his stomach, no longer flat and the muscles clrealy visible under his skin. Cazador would have called him fat for that, undesirable and worthless. Maybe the rest of the group were less interested in him because he wasn't appealing anymore and Astarion grit his teeth in resolve so hard that he almost missed Shadowheart's reply.
"Oh do be quiet. You know what I mean."
He didn't though. Or rather, he did but wished he didn't. That night Astarion didn't go out to hunt. He went hungry the next day. And the next.
By the time his true nature came to light, Astarion was back to his usual self. It was probably what had saved him. As Cazador used to say, it would have been such a shame to rid the world of such beauty, even if it couldn't keep quiet. Part of Astarion hated that Cazador was right, people really were less likely to murder the beautiful.
In the Underdark Shadowheart had turned to him with a lewd smile. "This place suits you. Perhaps it's part of being a creature of the night. It's always night here."
And it was desolate as fuck, devoid of any living creature. So was the Shadowcursed Lands. Astarion was hungry. So very hungry.
"I just want a small nibble," he sighed. "Not even enough for anyone to notice."
"We all need to be on top form, soldier," Karlach muttered. "And it's not like any of us are feeling satiated by any sense of the word. You're not that special."
No, of course Astarion wasn't special. They were all hungry, tired and scared. It was nothing out of the ordinary compared to the last two hunderd years.
Coated in grotesque slime wasn't Astarion's idea of a pleasant time. He wipes ineffectively at his face and flicked what he could to the ground.
"Ruined my shirt. Ruined my hair."
"And you're ruining what little I have left of good will," Gale spat angrily. "Can't you just be quiet for once. I get it, you're a special little vampire who lived in a castle and now has to slum it with the rest of us. But Mystra have mercy, you're making the rest of us feel even worse."
"At least I'm making you feel something. Better than being a forgotten, burnt out waste of talent." Hurt had Astarion lashing out. He hadn't even been talking to Gale, just muttering to himself about his own misfortune. But Gale made a very good point. If he wasn't having a positive impact on the group then he risked being left behind. The more he saw of the world, the more Astarion knew for sure that he wouldn't last long out there on his own. Cazador's spies were everywhere and it was just a matter of time before he was dragged back and punished. It was better to stay quiet and appease his protectors than risk such a thing.
Lifting the curse meant Halsin joined them in their camp. Even stranger, he offered himself up as a meal for Astarion. Hunger outweighed the worry of cost. Astarion knew what he had to offer and acted accordingly. After only a few sips he licked the wound clean and shut before kneeling back.
"You can take more," Halsin offered with heavy lidded eyes. "Don't go hungry."
"I've taken all I need." The lie rolled off Astarion's lips as he patted his flat stomach. Under his shirt his muscles were outlined once again, exactly as they should be. "You've done me a great favour, I haven't had anything as delicious as you in a long time, if ever. How could I ever repay you?"
Halsin smiled up at him. This was it, this was where Astarion traded his body for survival again. Despite knowing this was the outcome when he accepted Halsin's blood, he still dreaded it.
"I was hoping to hear more about your adventures."
The absurdness of the request had a laugh burst from Astarion before he could cover it with something more airy and appealing. "Darling, if you want bedtime stories then Wyll's your man. My talents involve my mouth but a lot less talking."
Still smiling, Halsin shook his head. "Maybe another night then, when you're more comfortable to share some memories."
Such words lingered on Astarion's mind. He hadn't ever been wanted for conversational company. Usually as long as he had one hole stuffed, him companion(s) didn't want anything coherent out of him. Still, it made him hope which Astarion hated so much. But if Halsin was interested then maybe he could try it. Settling by the fire as everyone ate, Astarion listened, waited for his opportunity.
"That ended my attempts at learning to keep the shape of a rat," Gale finished his story and the whole group laughed. "Tara was mortified and I couldn't get the whiskers to retract for a week!"
"Rats were one of the constants in Cazador's castle, no matter how hard he tried to eradicate them." It was a smooth transition, at least Astarion thought so.
"Urgh, spare us the woe and misery," Karlach groaned. "Can't we have just one night where we don't talk about the shit things in life? Let us have a bit of fun!"
Looking around the fire, Astarion saw various nods and heard murmurs of agreement. He knew when he was beaten and Cazador had taught him well. Averting his eyes, he slouched a little, nonchalant yet deferential. "My apologies, I didn't realise my stories about training rats to do circus tricks would be so depressing." Standing up, he gave the group a hollow smile. "Please, enjoy your evening of careless fun away from reality."
As he walked away he heard mutters of "didn't have to take it so personally" and "what a little bitch". The rest of the words he tuned out, not needing to etch into his brain yet more derogatory comments to harmonise with Cazador's words. Walking past his tent, Astarion made his way away from camp, into the dark wilderness. Plopping down on a mound at the edge of a small clearing, he closed his eyes. This was fine. He had changed to suit Cazador's tastes, he could do it again. Not overnight, he needed to learn exactly what was needed of him.
The fact a bear lumbered up next to him should have been a shock. Instead, Astarion stared at it and wondered what he'd taste like to a bear. However, rather than attack, the bear shifted and Halsin stood there.
"Apologies if I startled you, it's easier to find people in the dark as a bear."
"Nothing to apologise for, I should have been paying more attention. Did you need something."
Settling at the base of the mound, Halsin gazed up at the stars. "I was intrigued by rats and circus tricks."
A bitter laugh trickled out of Astarion. "Darling, I did no such thing." Leaning forward, he teased as if imparting some great secret. "Karlach was right, I was going to say how rats all tasted different based on what they'd last eaten. And how Gale likely still tasted just as vile in rat form as in human form. That orb of his certainly sours his appeal."
He didn't expect Halsin to laugh brightly. "I would have loved to have seen his face at hearing that. Do you think Karlach would taste like a fiery pepper?"
Something like delight briefly flitted over Astarion's face as Halsin so easily picked up the thread.
"Well, you're earthy and rich. I think she would certainly have a kick but more like a prank candy. Shadowheart would be a fine aged brandy that has started to turn so it just ever so slightly bitter."
"Lae'zel would taste like pickles!" Halsin blurted out with a wide smile. "And Wyll would be water." It had Astarion actually grinning even as Halsin continued, "My apologies, I do not have the poetic skills you harbour. Leather shoes or wooden clogs are about as creative as I can get with descriptors."
"And yet you're all the more compelling for your upfront honesty. Like a cool breeze on a hot summer night, refreshing yet also mysterious."
The way Halsin flushed was a delight. Without thinking too much, Astarion gave up his perch in favour of scooching down to sit next to Halsin. Their shoulders bumped together and Astarion stayed quiet. He could learn what Halsin wanted him to be. But something told him that all Halsin wanted him to be was himself. A terrifying prospect yet Astarion found himself looking forward to finding out who he really was.
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yorackerman · 1 year
Text
the happinness that we deserve
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synopsis: former enemies share a heartfelt conversation as the world around them is ending and make each other one last promise.
tags: love confession, first kiss, slight angst/bitterness, fluff, proposal if you squint
word count: 3.2k
cw: none
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The look you exchanged with him as he transformed in front of your very eyes was a sight that had not once left you, it haunted your nights and your daydreams. A look that made you wonder if there was more to it. There had to be more. You wanted there to be more.
But alas, as he escaped with Eren and no remorse, you realized that there wasn’t anything at all and all the years you’d spent with him, building this friendship that probably covered something more, was nothing. All your trust had been built on lies and dirty secrets.
And once again, when you and your comrades had to go after Eren and you got to stand on the armored titan’s shoulder, you promised Reiner a painful death. You promised that you’d kill him with your very hands for daring to play with your heart like that. You knew he could hear all of your words and you hoped they hurt but deep down, you knew very well that they did not.
After all, you were just one of the hundreds of people he had lied to for 5 years, an insignificant worm that stood in his way and he was the armored titan. The man responsible for the death of many, including Eren’s mother. Your words held no meaning and neither did your rage and your sadness.
Yet you bore them within your heart for as long as you could as they were the only thing keeping you alive but like all things, they ended up losing their meaning as well and you almost forgot why you hated him so much in the first place. Maybe you were still naive, but after all… you didn’t get to speak this through with him.
There had to be more to it, right?  
Time had passed and anger and hatred left place for bitterness and numbness. Your murderous ideas had long left you, just like he did, 4 years prior. Since then, days had been but a mere copy of one another, making you lose track of time. You couldn’t really believe that it had been 4 years since Reiner betrayed your trust and left you alone in Paradis. But the passing time made itself visible on your face as well as your friends’. As young as you were, the drain and tiredness that you had been bearing since encountering the outside world was visible and painfully obvious.
Still, you couldn’t recall everything that had happened and when exactly your hatred for Reiner started fading away, making it possible for you to stand in front of him without feeling the need to strangle him, just like you were doing right now. Was it when Eren started the rumbling which would most likely lead you and your comrades to death? Or was it before that, when you saw what life outside of the walls was like and when you too were forced to kill innocent people?
You decided to stop pondering as it held no importance anymore. You probably didn’t have much left to live and neither did Reiner. Even if he was to survive the rumbling somehow, his term would end soon. Both of you were screwed and as hateful as you could be, you didn’t wish to die with hatred in your heart.
“You’ve changed.”
You raised our eyebrows at his words, quite surprised that out of all the things he could’ve told you after years of not seeing each other he went with… that. You eyed him from head to toe, observed his features and the passage of time and marks of stress written all over his face as well as the beard that made him look much more grown than when you last saw him. His body had changed too, he was taller and looked stronger.
But what was more noticeable, was the constant pain his eyes bore. He did not look as confident as he did years ago. In fact, he looked sad, in despair even. Like the guilt had finally caught up to him and was eating him alive. His eyes did not shine like they once did, and he did not carry this “know-it-all” aura he did back when he was a soldier.  
In front of you stood a different Reiner. Or perhaps was it the real Reiner, the one he always was but concealed for the duration of his mission, who the hell knew at this point? This man whom you swore you knew turned out to be a complete mystery and if he was able to hide that he was the armored titan, he was very much capable of hiding his true personality as well.
“You changed too.” You finally spoke. “You look miserable now.”
“Can’t say that I’m not.”
“Yeah… why did you follow me?”
You shot a quick glance at the small campfire where your friends and enemies sat together while eating Hange’s stew. You had left a bit to take breath alone and gather your thoughts but before you could think anything, the warrior was already behind you. From where you stood, no one could hear, but you could be seen, in fact, you could feel the cart titan’s eyes on you from time to time, or perhaps was it just because its eyes were positioned this way…
When you looked back at Reiner, he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. His eyes were glued on you, but they looked as dead as ever. You tilted your head to the side, waiting for his reply which appeared to have brought him back to reality.
“I just wanted to be alone with you, I…” He marked a pause, seeming to question himself. “I missed you.”
“You what?”
“I missed you. I’m glad you’re alive after all this time.” He sighed. “You’re really… as strong as I expected you to be.”
You took a few steps back to lean against a tree, thus hiding your figure from your friends near the campfire. Reiner stood at you side, making himself visible to the other as you looked at the dark ground below your feet, replaying his words in your head. So there was more to it after all. It seemed, that despite the circumstances, he never really regarded you as an enemy… or maybe he did, but just like you, grew out of it.
“Well, I did have for goal to kill you one day. Vengeance pushes people to stay alive, you know.”
“Do you still want to kill me?”
“Heh…” You chuckled and raised your head to lock eyes with him. “Who knows. Perhaps when we’re done with this mission and you’re no longer useful to me I’ll find out.”
Lies.
You knew very well that you didn’t want to kill him anymore. But you had too much pride to admit it to his face. You wanted him to doubt you, fear your next move even if he was much stronger than you and could easily defend himself against you.
You looked at him, hoping to see even the slightest bit of fear on his face, but all you were met with was a smile. You furrowed at the sight, wondering what was wrong with him and if losing his mind was a symptom of his term ending soon, but he spoke again, cutting your questioning short.
“I wouldn’t mind dying to your hands, but I don’t deserve it. It’s too peaceful.”
Perhaps he had lost his mind, yes.
“Who said I was going to make it peaceful?”
“Your presence alone would make it peaceful.”
You chuckled at his words despite not finding the conversation even remotely funny. You couldn’t tell if this was a subtle manipulation technique to stop you from thinking of murdering him or if he was being genuine with his feelings for once. Feeling overwhelmed, your knees buckled under your weight and you ended up sitting in the cold grass, still leaning against the tree.
Reiner took a few steps toward you to position himself in front of you before crouching to be on somewhat equal height.
“If I were you, I’d go back to where I was. No one can see us behind this tree and I wouldn’t want them to think we ran away or got kidnapped.” You spoke.
“It’s okay. If they call us, I’ll say we’re here. I just really want to… see you.”
You sighed, feeling defeated and not having the energy to reply back with something that will create more distance between the two of you. You were tired from today and the days before and… as much as you hated to admit it, you did find some sort of comfort in his presence and his body being so close to you.
It reminded you of simpler times, back when you were cadets, and your biggest worry was to not give Keith a reason to scream at you or find a way to sneak out of the dorms to be with Reiner alone for a few hours just to sacrifice some sleep and speak about anything and everything. You would do anything to go back to these times but alas you knew it was impossible and all you could do was relish in the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia that his mere presence brought to you.
Oh you wished you could hate him the same way you did when you found out his secret. But after everything that happened and the mountain of corpses you stood upon, it was impossible for you to hate him or not understand him to some extent. The thought of that night back in Liberio was enough to make your eyes wet.
You bit the skin of your lip anxiously before looking up to him. He noticed your teary eyes and a worried expression grew on his face.
“Reiner, do you feel the same way as I do?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I think of the people I killed back in Liberio, the civilians, the children… I want to throw up. The guilt eats me alive. To have done this to protect the so called hope of humanity who is about to wipe us all out… it feels like a waste of innocent lives.”  
Reiner looked at you with a shocked look on his face and almost instinctively, his hand went to grab yours. The sudden contact made your heart skip a beat as it was the first time in years that you felt his skin against yours. He gently squeezed your hand inside of his own and looked at you in the eyes, a serious look now harboring his face.
“I know how you feel.” Was all that he said.
And this simple sentence once again confirmed the doubts you carried with you all those years. There was more to it. Reiner was the armored titan and killed countless of innocent people but…
“You were just a kid.” You replied.
Back then, you hated Reiner not only because he had betrayed your trust, but also because you did not understand his stance nor ever imagined that you would have to walk in his shoes even once. You never considered that his crimes had been orchestrated by someone else and he had been forced to do all of this. Because killing innocents, no matter the reason, was inhumane and you could never do it.
Until you were forced to not so long ago in Reiner’s homeland. Killing innocents for a “greater cause” was awful until you were the one slaughtering innocents to protect the owner of the founding titan, Paradis’ devil, Eren Yeager. Now you understood, and you felt sorry.
Tears started to form in your eyes as images flashed inside of your head again. You looked away, embarrassed to cry in front of the very man you threatened to kill 5 minutes ago but you felt no judgment coming from him which made you feel thankful. With his thumb, he rubbed small circles at the back of your hand.
“Back when I was a soldier in Paradis,” Reiner spoke, catching your attention. “I sometimes wished I had never met you.”
“Huh…?”
“Because I knew revealing the truth to you would be the most painful part, and I was right. It was.”
You remembered of how your eyes locked as he was transforming, how for a quick second the world ceased to exist as all you could read on his face was…
“I’m sorry.”
Like he’d been reading you mind, Reiner interrupted your thoughts to say exactly what you were thinking.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated. “If I knew back when I was a kid that going on this mission would make us meet, I would’ve refused. I grew up hearing that the people of your island are devils.” He marked a pause and chuckled. “I seriously wished you were a devil, so that leaving you would have been easier.”
You remained quiet, letting the memories of that day flash in your head again. It had been so long, yet they were as clear as ever. Reiner’s hand timidly moved from your hand to your face that he cupped gently. You glanced up at him, finding his shy expression quite adorable.
“I’ll tell you… you’re the furthest thing I know from a devil.”
A single tear rolled down your cheek and before you could even notice it, Reiner gently wiped it away with his thumb before starting to caress your skin. You leaned into his touch, allowing it to ease you even for just a few seconds. It was almost embarrassing how he could make you forget about the mountain of responsibilities that laid upon your shoulders, just by showing you some love.
“Do you remember when I said I would marry you?” He asked, making you chuckle.
“Vaguely. You seemed pretty serious about it too… too serious for someone who was supposedly joking.”
“Ahah… well I wasn’t joking. Though I knew it would be impossible, I still said it as a promise to myself but disguised it as a joke to you.” He marked a pause. “It’s stupid to think of old promises and have hope in such a situation but…”
“Do you want to marry me, Reiner?” You cut him off.
A long silence installed itself between the two of you, as he slowly stopped caressing the skin of your cheek. You tilted your head to the side to observe his expression. He was completely out of it, his eyes glued to the ground. You almost regretted asking this question but once again, you knew you didn’t have much left and you were more than ready to hear this man’s each and every secret.
Especially those regarding the feelings that he seemed to have hidden from you.
You couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic chuckle escape your lips. You almost felt bad for having such a childish conversation while the world was dying, it seemed Reiner was thinking the same thing and it was probably why he was staying silent. You sighed, giving up on the idea of heartfelt last confessions.
You gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your face before getting up on your feet.
“Sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask.”
“No it’s not that-“ He got up as well, towering over you. “I… I want to marry you!” He almost shouted.
So he did love you.
You looked at him with a shocked expression then glanced away, feeling bad to have sort of forced this out of him.
“Do you think we deserve this happiness?” You asked, looking in the distance.
“I don’t know.”
Your eyes wandered back to him, noticing a slight blush on his cheeks which made you smile fondly. You couldn’t believe this man was the armored titan. Yet he was, in all its glory. You imagined him in a suit of some sort, pronouncing his vows and everything else that a marriage ceremony included. It sure sounded nice.
But Reiner was a titan shifter with less than 5 years left, and colossal titans were destroying the world around you.
“Do we have time to reach this happiness?” You asked again, locking eyes with him, your next answers depending on what he’d say.
He paused for a while, looking for an answer, then he cleared his throat.
“Yes.”
Oh.
You closed your eyes, fully relishing in his reply and taking it as a marriage proposal. As happy as you felt deep within, you couldn’t help but also feel bitter over the wasted time, the wasted years, hating that if it weren’t for this world’s cruel ways and the sins that some pricks committed thousands of years ago, the two of you could’ve been happy.
This was all but unnecessary pain.
“Then make me a promise, Reiner.” You opened your eyes and took a step toward him before grabbing his hand.
“Yes…?”
“Stay alive.” You said, bluntly. “When all of this is over, I’ll marry you.”
Before you could say anything else, Reiner’s big hands grabbed your face before pulling you closer and gently pressing his lips on yours. You felt the corner of your lips form a smile as you responded to his kiss and wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer as his hands moved from your face to your hips.
The kiss was soft and gentle, just like how you’d imagine your first kiss with him to be. Although you could tell from the way his hands firmly squeezed your hips that he wanted to be more passionate, he was eager and desperate for your touch. He needed you so badly. 
When you parted, you were out of breath, bearing your eyes into his. You were surprised that he looked as nervous as you did, although he tried very hard to hide it.  
“I’ll stay alive.” He finally said. “If you promise me that you will too.”
“Mhm. I’ll try.”
You stayed in this position for a few seconds, just resting in each other’s arms, contemplating what would come next. The both of you were lost in thoughts, relishing in the comforting feeling of being in each other’s arms, knowing very well that it was just temporary comfort.
Soon enough, you heard Jean and Connie shouting your names from the distance which brought you back to reality. You quickly let go of Reiner’s embrace as he took a few steps back to not look suspiciously close if someone was to come now.
You walked back to where you were previously standing and waved at your friends who had thankfully not moved yet. You looked over your shoulder and shot a quick glance at Reiner who stood behind you with his arms now crossed on his chest.
“We should go back before they start asking us too many questions.”
“Right.”
The both of you walked back to where your friends were but before you could reach them, Reiner broke the silence again to speak.
“So… I take it that you don’t want to kill me anymore?”
You glanced at him, almost swearing for a quick second that cadet Reiner had taken control of his body just to speak right now. And when you noticed the little grin on his face you couldn’t help but rolling your eyes, feeling embarrassed when remembering all the emotions you went through in the span of just a few minutes.
“Shut up Braun.” Was all you could reply which earned you a chuckle from Reiner.
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scoonsalicious · 1 month
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Unwanted: Chapter 7, Unburdened - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, brutal honesty, mentions of some sexy stuff, but no actual sex-on-page, mention of m masturbation,
Word Count: 3k
Previously On...: Bucky spent the entire evening at Jade Carthage's side, and when he calls her "doll," you had enough and stormed off. The two of you have the very first argument of your friendship, and now Bucky says you need to talk...
A/N: I had a very shitty and emotionally draining evening yesterday, so I didn't get any writing done, unfortunately. But I need to make myself feel better somehow, so let's post Chapter 7! I think many of you will agree with me when I say "Fucking finally!" to what transpires here! Alas, though, there are plenty of emotional ups and downs still to come, because that's just life, isn't it?
Also, I finally watched Lisa Frankenstein to cheer myself up last night. What a delightfully messed up, fun, campy romp that was! Highly recommend if you haven't already!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321
The silence in your room felt deafening as you closed the door behind Bucky. For the very first time in your friendship, it felt awkward having him in your space, and you could tell he felt it, too. You crossed over to your sitting area and sat in one of your arm chairs, curling up into yourself. Bucky sat in the chair opposite you, leaning his elbows on his thighs to support his weight. The two of you just stared into space for a long moment, avoiding the other's gaze.
"You wanted to talk," you said eventually, "so talk."
Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, and you could see the sadness and defeat in them. "I'm sorry, Pocket. You're right, I've been an ass all night. I didn't do it with the intention to hurt you, but I hurt you anyway because I wasn't thinking about how my actions would affect you, and that's almost worse. I'm sorry."
You exhaled and looked away from him, afraid that if you held his gaze for too long, you wouldn't be able to stop the tears that would certainly come. "Listen, Buck," you said, swallowing hard, "if you're interested in pursuing something with Jade, that's... well, it's your life, you're free to date whoever you want. We never put any labels or rules on whatever this thing between us is, so I know I don't have any right to be jealous, but watching you flirt so openly with her right in front of me, like I didn't even exist? I can't begin to explain to you how worthless and small that made me feel. So, if you think you want to try for something with her, you have to let me know so I can try to move on, because I can't sit around and watch it happen. It's too painful."
When you looked back over at him, Bucky had gotten up and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you, practically beaming as he took you in.
"Why are you smiling like a lunatic?" you asked, an edge of concern in your voice. "You're creeping me out."
"Pocket," he murmured, cupping your face in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. For a moment, you considered pulling away, but the feel of his lips on your skin was such a comfort, you stayed still. "My absolute one and only doll, you've got it all wrong. I let you get the wrong idea and stew with it and I am so, so sorry."
You did pull away at that. "What are you talking about? How do I have the wrong idea?"
Bucky leaned back until he was resting on his heels. "I am interested in Jade, that's true." He took your hands in his as you felt your heart drop into your stomach. "But not in the way you think." He brought your hands to his lips and began placing kisses across your knuckles. "Doll, there's only been one girl I've been interested in pursuing something with in the last seventy-five years, and I'm sitting across from her right now."
You shook your head, sure you had misheard him. "I don't understand."
He chuckled and looked up at you through his lashes, the sight so beautiful, your breath caught in your chest. "Pocket, I have been crazy about you since the moment you made that god-awful 'unarmed' joke. At first I thought a girl as pretty as you, as smart as you, as good as you, you'd never give a guy like me, even without my history, a second look, and I'd be content to just watch you from the sidelines, you know? Watch you be beautiful and bright and I'd be happy my world was a better place just because you were in it.
"But you went outta your way to be nice to me. You talked Tolkien with me, you wanted to spend time with me, you wanted to be my friend, and I thought 'This is already more than you deserve, it's more than enough.' Then, when I had my nightmare, you didn't run away. You stayed. You stayed, and you understood, you let me hold you, and I-I was a goner for you. And that night...," he groaned at the memory, "God, that night you kissed me back, and you let me touch you, in all the ways I dreamed of touching you, all the ways I'd imagined touching you while I fucked my fist for practically a year, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to give you up after that.
"You'd told me about your past, how you were scared of relationships but, sweetheart, I was so greedy, I'd take any part of you you were willing to give me, your friendship, your body, even if it wasn't ever gonna be your heart. I'd take any crumb you offered me, and I'd be grateful for it."
You blinked your eyes repeatedly, dazed by his confession and unable to articulate words. Bucky's face fell as your silence stretched on.
"You don't feel the same way," he said, voice low as he stood up. "I'm sorry-- I-I shouldn't have dumped all of that on you. I'll go--." He turned and made steps toward your door, but you jumped up, reaching out to grab his arm.
"Bucky, wait," you turned him back to face you and brought your lips crashing to his with such intensity that he stumbled backwards a few steps before wrapping his arms around you to kiss you back.
"I love you," you gasped when you broke apart for air, breathing out a laugh when his eyes widened comically in shock. "I'm so fucking in love with you that it terrifies me, because it's an entirely brand new experience and I don't know how to do it. I'm so worried that I'm going to fuck it up and scare you away, or that you're gonna realize I'm not worth it and I don't even know how to live without you anymore."
Bucky held your face between his hands. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of deception. "You're not fucking with me?"
You shook your head emphatically, bringing your hands up to cover his. "No, no, I'm completely serious. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes." You laughed; the more you said the words, the more you realized how entirely true they were. "I love you and I've been so insanely jealous all night because I thought you were interested in her."
Bucky looked down at you with the brightest smile, like the sun shining after a storm, before pulling you toward him so he could kiss you again. You hadn't even realized you'd started to cry until, after Bucky had pulled away, he was brushing the tears from your cheeks.
"I love you, Pocket," he whispered as he began peppering kisses across your face. "I love you and I'm so sorry for everything I did tonight that would make you doubt that you're the most important person in my life and the best thing to ever happen to me."
The reminder of his earlier actions drew you out of the emotional haze his declaration had put you in. "Wait," you said, pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you, "if you've been in love with me this whole time, how come you've been weird about Jade ever since you saw her profile in those folders Tony gave us?" Bucky ran a hand down his face and sighed. Taking your hand, he led you back to the armchair you'd previously vacated and sat, pulling you down to sit on his lap and wrapping his arms around you.
"I told you that I am interested in Jade," he began, but when he felt you tense beneath him, he quickly continued, "but I'm not interested in dating her, or sleeping with her. You're the only girl who's got my attention in those departments." He paused to nuzzle at the junction of your neck and shoulder and you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.
"Go on," you gently urged him.
"I'm interested in getting to know Jade, in talking to her, because she's... well, she's like me, you know? She's got the serum, and I don't know anyone else who's got it that's still alive."
You put a finger on his chin, tilting his face up to meet yours. "But, Steve," you said, somewhat confused, "he's got the serum, too, and you talk to him all the time."
Bucky sighed and shook his head. "Steve's got Erskine's serum," he told you. "The one made by the U.S. Government. The one that they-- that Hydra-- used on me, it was similar, but not the same."
"It's the same one that was used on Jade," you said, understanding dawning on you.
Bucky nodded. "Not exact, but what's running through her veins evolved from what's runnin' through mine. And they never put her through cryo, she's never been wiped. She was conscious through everything they put her through, all the experiments, the tests... I was excited to think that there was someone I could talk to about it, who understood. Someone who could maybe help me fill in some of the blanks I still have. Answer the questions I've been too ashamed to ask Steve."
"Oh, Buck," you hummed, running your nails gently across his scalp, "Baby, why didn't you ever say anything?"
He arched into your touch. "Because you've already had to put up with enough of my shit," he said. "I didn't want to burden you with any more of it."
You stopped your scratching ministrations and looked at him. "Now listen here, Barnes," you began, your tone serious, "the last thing you could ever be to me is a burden. I have never met anyone who was funnier, kinder, braver, more selfless or caring than you. You're a fucking gift, Bucky. One that I am endlessly grateful for, everyday."
Bucky groaned. "Pocket, you can't just say things like that while you're sitting on my lap. I try to be a gentleman, but I've got my limits."
You laughed and leaned into him, resting your head against him. You picked up his right hand and began tracing his fingers with your own.
"If me talkin' to Jade makes you any kind of uncomfortable, doll, I promise I'll never speak to, or even look at, her again." He caught your eye and you could see the seriousness of his statement in them. You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
"I'm never going to tell you who you can't be friends with, Buck," you told him with a sigh. "I admit that I don't love the idea of you spending one-on-one time with her alone or anything, but I'm also not going to stand in the way of you getting answers you need about your past. But you tell me the second she tries something," you warned. "Super soldier or not, she comes for my man, I'm gonna kick her fucking ass."
"You've got nothin' to worry about, darlin'. I told you, in seventy-five years, it's only been you. Seventy-five years more, it's still always only ever be you." His words made your heart swell in your chest and you leaned in to kiss him again. "Mm, but say that again," he told you.
"The part where I'm gonna kick her ass?" you asked with a smirk.
"No," he said, nipping at the sensitive skin at the pulse point on your neck, "the part where you called me your man."
You shifted so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs at the nape. You leaned in close so you could whisper in his ear: "You're my man, Bucky Barnes." A full shiver went through Bucky's body at your words and you relished in the effect you had over him. He ran his vibranium hand up under the back of your shirt, tracing gentle circles on the skin of your lower back.
"And you're always gonna be my girl, Pocket." His flesh hand came up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the motion, combined with his words, so tender your breath hitched.
Something seemed to shift in that moment, the air growing thick and heady between you, as if you were both just realizing the new depth of your relationship for the first time.
"Bucky," you breathed, voice barely a whisper, eyes pleading.
He nodded and, placing one hand at the small of your back and the other under your knees and scooping you up as he stood. With the utmost care, he laid you down on the mattress of your bed and rested his body over yours, careful not to put too much of his weight on top of you.
"This feels different," he said as brushed your hair away from your face.
"Good different or bad different?" you asked, bringing your hands up to cup his face, the stubble scratching your palms.
"The very best different." He leaned down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was unlike any you'd shared before-- sweeter, more languid, as though you'd been forced to rush every previous kiss and you were both finally allowed to take your time. Bucky tasted like smoked whiskey as his tongue made leisurely sweeps across your mouth, eliciting a moan from you when he sucked on your bottom lip.
You could feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as you kissed, Bucky's flesh hand roaming up the soft skin of your side. He shifted, pressing more of his weight against you, as if he were desperate to be closer, and you could feel the hard press of his erection against your thigh.
You rocked your hips up against his pelvis, drawing a guttural moan from Bucky's throat. He pulled back, drawing himself up on his haunches. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shirt, teasing the edges as he looked up at you, silently asking you for permission. You nodded, sitting up and raising your hands over your head so he could slide your shirt off. As soon as it was free of your arms, Bucky tossed it aside and brought his lips to your shoulder, kissing his way across your collarbone.
Reaching down, you grabbed the hem of his Henley, slowly rolling it up over his abdomen, placing soft kisses on the hard lines of muscles it revealed. Once you'd fully divested him of his shirt, you let your hands roam the broad expanse of his chest, your lips and tongue trailing open-mouthed kisses across the raised pink scars at his mangled shoulder.
"You don't have to," he said, subtly pulling his shoulder back.
"Shush." You pulled him closer, continuing to kiss his puckered flesh. "I love every inch of you, Bucky. You're beautiful."
He pulled away from you, blue eyes boring into yours like he couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him.
"How are you even real?" he asked, bringing your lips to his once again, his kisses growing more desperate. "I swear to God, Pocket, 'm gonna take you out, date you so fuckin' hard. Be the best goddamned boyfriend you've ever had."
He wanted to be your boyfriend. Not long ago, those words might have terrified you, but now, with the emotions you'd finally both let yourselves express, they thrilled you.
"You gonna take me to brunch, Barnes?" you teased, nipping at his skin as you rolled your hips up into his, your words coming out in gasps between the mewls of pleasure he was drawing from you. "We goin' to the farmer's market? Fuck--- Spend weekends at bed-n-breakfasts in Vermont?"
Bucky growled as he ground his hips down into yours, the length of his erection pressing down against your clothed clit and making you moan. "Sweetheart, I'll do anything you want. You wanna ride around the city on one of those tandem bicycles?" A dragging of his hips that had you arching your back. "I'm here for it. You wanna share a bowl of spaghetti like those dogs in that movie? I'm your man."
"Baby, I would never make you get on a tandem bike," you gasped, faux scandalized at the suggestion. "A swan paddle boat, maybe, but never a tandem bike. I respect you too much for that."
Bucky laughed as he buried into the crook of your neck. "I'd do it for you, anyway."
"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," you told him with a smile.
"Oh, baby," he moaned, licking a stripe along the side of your neck that had you shivering, "We gotta fix that. I'm gonna romance the absolute shit out of you." He moved his mouth, placing kisses down your collar bone, between the valley of your breasts, and down your stomach. You bit your lip as his hands reached the waistband of your pants, his eyes looking up to meet yours as he slowly, so agonizingly slowly, began unbuttoning them.
"Ms. (Y/L/N), Sgt. Barnes," FRIDAY's voice echoed across the room. Bucky groaned and dropped his head on your pelvis at the interruption. "Mr. Stark requests your immediate return to the common room."
It was your turn to groan now as you threw your head back onto the pillow. "How much trouble do you think we'll be in if we just ignore it?" you asked him, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.
He chuckled as he leaned over to pick up your discarded shirts from the floor. "We don't go, he's libel to come barging in, and I don't know about you, but I'm not keen on Stark getting a load of my bare ass as I'm plowing balls-deep into his favorite little protégé," he said, winking at you as he pulled his Henley back over his head.
"Ew," you laughed, "everyone knows Parker's Tony's favorite little protégé these days. Thank you for that mental image."
Bucky shot you a sardonic look. "Arms, smartass," he said, indicating for you to lift your arms above your head so he could put your shirt back on you. "You got some mouth on you. I ever tell you how much I love it?"
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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amomentwiser · 9 months
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"Why don't you spend time with us?" they say, "Keep your phone away at the table."
Parents say they want to talk — until it's about anything real.
They don't want to know about how their plans for your future make you feel.
They don't want to know your fears, hopes or dreams.
The things you're interested in — your favourite music, games and movies;
Or the things you've come to believe.
Sometimes it feels like parents don't want to get to know you as a person. They only see you in relation to themselves.
Or sometimes they do talk about music and games and movies, and it's even worse — because the conversations you want to have are serious.
And it's worse because it becomes very clear, that they don't want to have conversations that matter. That, god forbid, make them feel.
They want to avoid talking about all the times they yelled at you. No apology, no acknowledgement. Just glaze over those parts and pretend everything's normal. Neither guilt nor remorse.
And you're left wondering whether this thing you have a memory of actually happened, because everyone is acting like it didn't. And whether your anger is warranted, because everyone is acting like it isn't.
An unspoken decision: "Yes, we were harsh earlier, but we felt bad and are being nice now"
The implied demand: "...so be grateful,"
The undercurrent of a threat: "...or I'll get angry again."
And a push to move on: "Why do you bear grudges? Leave the past in the past."
All these little clues, that you learn to read in their body language and their eyes and their vibe.
And then they balk when you don't call them. Or jump at the chance to spend time with them — or even have a relationship.
It's weird, loving people you don't like. That you'd never choose of your own volition; that you'd never be friends had you met in the real world. People you're indebted to anyway, because they took care of you your whole life and changed your diapers and drove you to school, and what friend would ever do that?
Had they been overly abusive I would've cut them off without guilt; if I didn't know that despite it all, they really did love me, I wouldn't have cared about hurting their feelings.
Some people... you love them only because they are family. If they were a boyfriend, I would've broken up with them; if they were a spouse I would've divorced them. Alas, they are my parents, and I'm destined to love them. To give up a kidney for them if need be, but not any days out of my workweek.
I don't have these conversations with my family because I've come to realise that this is something they're not emotionally equipped to handle. Too much self-awareness would bring out memories not only of the mistakes they made with me, but also all the times adults in their childhood failed them; of all the ways they themselves were wronged; all the years they wasted because of choices they didn't know they had; and all the things they wish they'd done differently. So I understand; the flood of anger and regrets it brings to the surface must be draining.
But that also means that I'll distance myself from them, because for me, their misunderstood love is draining. And because this has to stop somewhere; someone has to start choosing differently — and I've decided it'll be me.
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leafyaa · 20 days
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Chapter 14
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Weeks passed by with no particular strange incidents. You felt way more relaxed after reading that no major incidents struck your village or the nation. Though one thing did give you restless minds: Hikari. Her birthday was coming up and you didn't know what to do for her. I mean what could you do really? 
With Kunikuzushi posing as a distraction you didn't have much time to think about Hikari as much as you wanted to because Kunikuzushi tried to cheer you up constantly, noticing your distant looks when he came by the café you worked at. 
The two of you ended up doing some picnics with Sara and Heizou accompanying you. Sara was there to just be with you while Heizou wanted to 'balance out' the group by joining as well. Then because you didn't want Maple to feel left out you also brought her with you. She enjoyed jumping around and trying to catch butterflies.
Then there were some alone walks between Kunikuzushi and you but it always became awkward after you were lost in your thoughts while walking with him. 
Slowly but surely Kunikuzushi started entering in your daily routine again  by driving you to work, picking you up from work and sometimes cooking for you. It felt like he was taking care of you but maybe you were getting delusional thinking he still loved you. The way he treated you sometimes gave you butterflies in your stomach, but you just brushed it off, thinking it was just a desperate feeling of wanting someone to take care of you.
Sometimes he would tell you he had to go somewhere for a while and you didn't mind. But when he could take care of you you would feel so much more at ease as most of your daily worries slowly disappeared. For example: waking up early to make sure you wouldn't miss the only bus that made sure you were on time for work, forgetting to get groceries or ending up skipping dinner because you would be too tired to cook. 
Working yourself tirelessly was your way of going through the days and weeks. If you focused enough you wouldn't suddenly break down out of nowhere. You knew her birthday was coming up soon and you felt so stupid about not thinking about her more. You felt exhausted knowing each day was making it less likely for her to be found back, exhausted knowing that you might have been waiting for nothing.
There were never any updates on her case from the police after that unfortunate day. Asking Heizou or Sara for information would be useless because they had no access to those files and you wouldn't want to accidentally fire them as the Tenryou police force already disliked you very much. 
Sure Kokomi had taken on the case which irritated the local police even more and Gorou made sure to tell you if there were updates but alas, there were still none till this day. 
Today was the day before Hikari's birthday and you had taken off work for the next few days, wanting to spend time alone. Thoma assured you didn't have to worry about the cafe as you were basically the second manager there and knew how everything worked. 
Sara and Heizou knew not to disturb you in your alone time and made sure to only send minimal messages to you. 
But one person made today his mission to take you out today. And it was none other than Kunikuzushi. After all, you never told him about Hikari. He surely wouldn't care about her if he left you at your worst state plus you were almost certain his opinion about kids never changed after the last incident. 
"Can't we just go somewhere next week?" Your muffled voice spoke while buried in a pillow.  
"Come on, the weather is good tomorrow!" Kunikuzushi said with much excitement. He happened to call you on your day off to go out but you felt drained. 
"But so is next week.." 
"You're always saying next week and then you forget about it.." Ah yes that was right, because you overworked yourself and mostly forgot things. Things like appointments you had to write on a calendar hanging in your living room because you would forget that as well as sending all your appointments to Sara so she could remind you. You didn't really use the calendar on your phone because you didn't like the way it looked so a paper calendar was your solution. 
"Meow~" Your cat meowed, climbed onto your bed and nuzzled her head into your hair. 
"Even your cat agrees." Kunikuzushi said, making you groan in annoyance. 
"Maple is a cat, how could she possibly understand us.. Ugh I'm tired.. I'm hanging up.." You said with a sigh, moving your hand towards the button. 
"Wait but tomorrow-" 
"We'll see tomorrow."
And you hung up before he could say anything else. 
You sighed as you threw your phone on your bed and got out of your bedroom. 
As you walked from your room to Hikari's room you noticed the faint crayon stripes and other small drawings Hikari did, with much scolding from you. 
Originally you were going to permanently remove it by painting over them, but you felt that it was like removing Hikari out of the house so you decided to keep it, even though it might have made her think she was allowed to draw on the walls.
You grabbed the key from your pocket and unlocked the door, entering it quietly. Maple, who had gotten out of bed to follow you, also walked behind you curiously. 
You picked him up and brought her to your eye view, showing her Hikari's room. 
She meowed a bit before jumping out of your arms to Hikari's neatly made up bed. Even for a cat, she did look sad as if she could sense your emotions. She just sat still and looked at you. 
You closed your eyes and breathed, trying to remember all the good times with your daughter again. 
"I miss you Hikari, please give me a sign you're still out there." You spoke as a tear slipped down your face. 
“You will.” A voice responded unbeknownst to you.
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⇠ previous ⭒ masterlist ⭒ next ⇢
Notes:
kinda late with this one but yeah
Summary:
You've dated Scaramouche in your high school and college years but just as you wanted to announce your pregnancy to him he broke up with you without any reason. He left you to be a single mom for 7 years. But now that your daughter has been missing and abducted for a year and you've not been doing well and out of a sudden he showed up into your life again trying to apologize for his past mistakes..?
Taglist:
@swivy123 @kichiyosh1 @wwwrizchan @k1t0 @killumeow @pinkdreamerbailifflawyer-blog @samarill @xiaotopia @aqualesha @eattingshits @omoriaddict @mave-in @sketcheeee @xiaossocksniffer @elernity @ohmyfinggod @luvkvni @kunikissr @meadowofdarts @kaoriie @scaramochies @ekriis @rizakari @xxrexx @lovingveliona @magica-ren @lilybythevalley @theflatdoorkicker @lazy-sanns @reixtsu @fullw0rld @kunikuzushis-darling @childesgingerhair @kochothehoe @mercy-not-merci @ash1
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bucknastysbabe · 4 months
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I can have an aegon ii crying and whining (love to see that man cry) because he knows you're going to break up with him....
I hope this is alright, thanks for the request. Xoxo
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Rating: Mature
Tags: TW//Alcohol abuse, addiction, verbal and emotional abuse, alcoholic/addict Aegon, codependency, description of DTs, break-up, man tears, modern!au, sorry I projected my alcoholism on this, man tears whiny pathetic babykins
A/N: Sorry Anon if I took some liberties, I felt this as a good reason for him to be crybaby. Alcoholic projection gets me ass sometimes
“No-nononono!,” Aegon cried from behind you.
You poured the last of his bottle out of the sink. The fucker had hidden the booze in your boots. Your boots. After boldly claiming he was sober, clean, and going to meetings. Alas, here you were again, Aegon whining and begging once again. Cycle of insanity as that blue book he owned said. Fat tears leaked from his wide orbs, lips trembling, face blotchy and red.
“You lied to me!,” you barked.
He tugged at his hair, big violet eyes fixated on that precious liquid going down the drain. Aegon whimpered, “Stop. Stop it! I’m sorry, I- I- I won’t do it anymore! I hid it for an emergency!” He sobbed as you placed the now empty bottle onto the counter.
This was on and off for what felt like the entirety of the relationship. It was fun at first— party Prince Aegon Targaryen. You two would go all night. You began to grow tired of the non-stop celebration. He’d keep going, snorting in the bathroom, taking something to sleep, leaving to hang out with the ‘bros’. Always had a reason to have something in his system.
You didn’t know if he had ever cheated. It felt he cheated on you with the bottle— ‘his baby’ he so fondly referred to alcohol one time. He had to take an extra semester only to land on academic probation. You graduated and got a job, got a place with Aegon. Upon moving in you expressed your feelings about his habits, the blonde apologizing and swearing he’d be on the straight and narrow.
Your stupid simple heart thought he would change, the little oath he made would settle Aeg some. He did at first, snuggling down for movies, grandiose gifts, and dinner for two with one cup of wine. Looking back on Aegon’s behavior he was too settled— a little hazy, forgetful, coming in and out of the world. Checking his bedside drawer that night explained the situation. Bars upon bars of Xanax in a bag. Something to quell the annoyance of being a real boyfriend.
That was a big fight. You ‘broke up’ with him on the spot. Aegon immediately burst into sobs, crying and promising to do better. No more pills. You believed him, again, the fucker even charmed you back into bed. ‘Making love’, holding hands as he filled you up, promising and apologizing. Sorry sorry sorry.
It’s about all he could muster anymore with you. Sorry.
You swallowed a sob and warbled, “You keep saying you’re going to change Aegon! It never happens! Here were are again, finding your little lies all over the place. You need help! Sorry doesn’t change shit baby. I’m done, I’m done with this. Do you even think about my feelings?”
He whined in distress, walking over and dropping to his knees. You let your sick baby cry into your stomach, arms wrapped tight around you. Sighing heavily you pet his white hair, nose wrinkling at the booze coming off his skin, the sink, everywhere.
He looked up with reddened eyes, pretty lips trembling as he begged, “You’ve got to help me, please, I can’t stop. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t leave me alone, I-I’m scared.” Every part of your body wanted to believe him. The trust had been long shattered like the bottle he threw at the wall one time— smashing it in a drunken rage.
“Why can’t you just piss off and let me do my thing? Fucking ball and chain!”
Aegon whined your name some more, gripping harder. He whimpered, “You won’t leave me right? Right my love?” You looked away and wiped a tear. He clung harder, sobbing, “No, please love, puh-please, no.” Wrenching free from the grip you shook your head. He tried to grab again, you stepping backward with a hand up.
“No Aegon. You need to seek help. For yourself, not me. I’m done. You’ve hurt me enough,” softening your tone you added, “Baby, you’re very very sick. You’ll die. Make a choice.”
He looked disgustingly sad and pathetic on his knees, hands wrenching at whatever was available. Aegon’s brow furrowed as he hissed, “So you’re like the rest— just leaving me.” You sighed in pity, running a hand over your brow. This was getting harder by the second, the damn man wearing you down to a nub.
“No Aegon. You made them leave. Pushed all of us away on your pursuit for, for, whatever you’re seeking inside.”
He warbled, “Don’t say that.”
“Just go look in the mirror. Call your mother.”
You stepped out of the wretched apartment, Aegon’s wailing filling your ears. ‘Don’t leave me!’ You’d break down later. It felt like a gaping wound settled in your chest. You idly wondered if Aegon felt like that— needing to fill the pocket with anything that didn’t make the blonde feel like himself.
Aegon stared in the mirror, puking after a short gaze. He hated what stared back at him. Hated everything really. Now he had nothing to suck on to take the pain away. No baby to coddle him, his baby, who he used and abused like everything else. Aegon sniffled and wiped his mouth. Leaning on the wall in front of the toilet he dialed his mother's number. Straight to voicemail.
“Hey Mom. I need help. Like, put me somewhere help.”
He frowned at how worn down and whiny his voice sounded. Whatever. What did he have left anyway? A future? Maybe. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the inevitable shakes begin. There might be a hidden spot up in the fake fireplace. The prince would get it when he’d start shaking enough to lose the ability to walk.
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acey-wacey · 2 years
Note
i would like to request grape with idia!
Pairing - Idia Shroud x Reader
Prompt - "You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid."
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...
Idia had been on a Overwatch win streak earlier, history class hadn't been that bad, and now Ortho was escorting his tablet back to the dorm. Everything was right with the world.
It was a perfectly peaceful day.
Until he saw you.
"Ortho!" Idia whispered into his mic, trying to catch his brothers attention without catching yours. "Turn around."
Ortho cocked his head in confusion.
"Why?"
"Because Y/N is coming this way and I don't want to talk to them right now."
"Why not?"
"Because I was having a good day today and they're gonna ruin it!" Idia groaned, leaning back in his swivel chair. It seemed like you were always so mean for no reason. He pulled the headset mic away from his mouth to not be as loud. "Hate that b-tch."
"Why would you hate Y/N? They're so nice!" Ortho said, much louder than necessary. Idia face-planted behind the screen as Ortho batted his eyelashes in fake innocence.
You had been purposefully trying to avoid Idia as you didn't feel like draining your energy talking to a self-proclaimed "weaboo" but you overheard Ortho's near-shout and had to butt in.
"As much as I love to have you defending my virtue, Ortho, you'd better not say nice things about me with Idia in the room," you smiled sweetly and Ortho before switching to a glare, pointed at the black screen you knew Idia was hiding behind. "He might have a stroke at the mere thought of me not being a total a$$."
"If you don't want me to think you're a jerk, then stop being one!" he exclaimed, making the microphone shriek with feedback. You winced and covered your ears as Idia cleared his throat and adjusted the mic, glad you couldn't see his bright red blush.
"I don't want you tarnishing my good name, especially to Ortho." You pulled the boy into a hug, which he returned with eagerness, a little beep in the back of his head serving as a reminder of serotonin increase. "He's like a little brother to me and I don't want him to think badly of me."
"Once he sees how you treat people, maybe he'll stop idolizing you so much," Idia scoffed, remembering all the times Ortho had talked his ear off about how much he loves you and wanted you to be his big sibling too.
"Other people? My frigidity is reserved for you only," you winked at the camera in a burst of confidence, pretending not to notice the mortified squeak from the speaker. "You are a very special person, Idia Shroud. I make a point to try and like everyone but you are just so punchable."
"Haven't punched me yet."
"One day," you sighed with a joking wistfulness. Idia rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth as you continued to nuzzle his brother with affection.
He loved Ortho and he hated you and he hated that Ortho loved you. If only you weren't such a normie, he would love you more but alas...
"Why do you have to be around Ortho so much anyway? Go get your own little brother."
"But he's so cute!" you whined, smiling adoringly at Ortho's who basked in your attention. "We can play nice and share."
"I have an idea!" Ortho's eyes lit up. Literally. A little lightbulb was displayed in his pupil screen. "If the two of you were married, I would be both of your real little brother! Then Y/N would be in the family and we'd get to hang out all the time!"
There was a moment of quiet, a calm before the inevitable storm. You and Idia were so stunned you couldn't speak. When you finally found your words, it was chaos.
"How could you say that, Ortho?"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"
"Marry him?"
"Marry them?"
"I don't even like him!"
"Have you met them?"
Ortho muted his external microphone to block out the yelling but he could still see your mouth moving at rapid speeds and Idia's tablet vibrating with sound.
"I would die before I marry you, Y/N!"
"Good thing it won't come to that!"
"I would..." Idia paused for a second, trying to think of the most insulting thing he could. "I would lose 50-50 on purpose to C6 Qiqi before I married you."
"Well, that's how I know you're serious," you scoffed. "You start talking about Genshin."
"I'm serious! I really don't like you!"
"You sound more like you're trying to convince yourself," you chuckled, moving on to the teasing tactic. Idia cursed under his breath. This was his least favorite phase of your boss battle because it always ended with him in a blushing mess, kicking his feet on his bed.
"I don't need any convincing because I know it's true," he bit back, trying to hold his ground while you ran your tongue along your top teeth. You bent down to where the tablet hovered and looked directly into the camera, looking it up and down as if it were a real person. You knew Idia could see the perspective from his gamer chair and you knew it would get a good rise out of him.
"You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid."
The tablet stayed silent and for a moment, you thought he had logged off until you heard a broken-up screech that the mic apparently couldn't process.
"Now listen here..." he started before Ortho cut him off.
"That's true, actually. Sometimes he "catches himself looking at your lips and hates himself for wanting to kiss you"," Ortho said as if it was a completely normal thing to bring up. "Direct quote from the video diary."
"Ortho!" Idia screamed, now a flustered and furious piled of bright pink hair. "Why did you look at that?!"
"Not my fault," Ortho mumbled. You stared at the tablet, your confident smirk now replaced with a stunned furrow in your brow.
"For real?" you said on a nervous exhale, cursing your heart for skipping a beat. "I was just joking. I didn't think you'd actually wanna kiss me IRL."
"I don't!" Idia protested before shrinking back into his chair and pouting. "I'm not some kind of creep! I know you would never want to kiss me."
You picked up the tablet and brought it to eye level, forcing it to stop bobbing up and down as it hovered.
"Idia Shroud," you said, dead serious. Idia gulped like a kid in the principals office.
"Yeah?" he responded weakly. You sighed and looked over at Ortho.
"Ortho, I'm going back to the dorm with you."
"Why?" both Shroud brothers asked in unison. You turned back to the tablet and smiled.
"I can't kiss you over the Seven forsaken screen, now can I?"
"You... WHAT?!!"
"Yes!" Ortho yelled, rocketing up into the air. "Two big siblings!"
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whumpshaped · 5 months
Note
would you ever write a vampire with catholic beliefs? Who is struggling between his beliefs and his reality? 🍬🧠🍬🧠 I forgot my zip mouth emoji...Idk where it is...
so originally i wanted to write about isabella, but well, she's not a he, nor is she catholic (she's lutheran). so have this sad wet cat
tw vampire whumper/whumpee? i'm not sure what this man is- death, murder, religious themes, religious trauma, religious guilt, suicidal ideation, (self-imposed) starvation, self-blame, memory loss, abandonment, lady whumpee, noncon drugging, dehumanisation (of self)
It was cold when he awoke. The winter breeze bit into his twitchy body and made him curl up for a moment, but it paled in comparison to the ruthless hunger gnawing at his stomach.
His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar scene, but recognising the terrain wasn't necessary for him to follow the scent of blood. It was all he could focus on, torn clothes and the cold long forgotten as he struggled to his feet and began following the trail.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
He wanted it. He needed it. He had to have it, no matter the cost.
He didn't have the presence of mind to stop and wonder about his heart that was no longer beating, nor the speed with which he was pursuing his prey. He didn't think about the fact that he could see all too well despite it being the middle of the night, he didn't even consider that normal people didn't usually hunt. Not in a town. Not like this.
He pounced on the man without hesitation. He pumped the body full of venom so he would be silent, then drank and drank and drank until–
"Holy shit," someone said quietly. Then, louder this time, "Holy shit. Vampire! There's a fucking vampire–"
He bolted before he could've heard the end of it. He didn't think about the man he left behind. He ran back to where he'd woken up, collapsing to the ground as soon as he got there. He felt exhausted, he felt... dead. More alive now that he'd had something to drink, but...
He lifted a hand and pressed it against his chest. Nothing. Of course, this should've been more than expected, having drained that poor man dry–
Oh dear. He'd likely killed someone.
His mind was reeling. He couldn't remember a thing from before waking up, but the past few minutes had already thrown him for a loop on their own. He was dead, a dead man walking, and he'd just killed someone. And another human had even seen him do it!
He tried to take a couple of deep breaths to ground himself, but the taste of blood in his mouth negated any effort he put in. He was a monster. He was a murderer. He was going to be hunted and killed.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
The scent of blood clung to him like a ghost, and he desperately wished for a warm shower to get it off. Alas, he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a discarded coat on the ground. He should at least look through that to see whether he could piece together who he used to be. He didn't even... remember his own name.
And where was his sire? The bloodthirsty monster who turned him into one of them? Had they not even waited for him to wake up? Had they not cared at all about the life they'd ruined?
Touching the coat brought back memories of his last minutes, the way the vampire had slipped it off his shoulders and threw it on the ground. He remembered being dazed and helpless, baring his neck for the demon to feast on. At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the world, to be able to feed them.
He looked through the pockets and found an ID for Jude Flanagan, born 1998. The picture was... him? He gingerly touched his own face, as though his fingers could ever work as well as a mirror. Was he really the Jude on the card?
He was. His fingers brushed against the cloth of an eye patch, the same one the man on the photo was wearing. More memories flooded his mind: his mother calling him, his father yelling for him from downstairs, the priest scolding him.
Priest?
He found a Bible in the next pocket, a small one. He dropped it out of fear, afraid it would burn his hands like silver, but nothing happened. The book seemed harmless, apart from the implications it brought along.
He used to be a man of God.
"N-no... No, no, no, no. You were supposed to protect me," he choked out, picking up the Bible again. "How could You let this happen? How– how could a vampire– why would You let a vampire..."
No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.
"I killed a man!" Jude cried. "First You deny me Heaven, and now– the temptation was all I had! I couldn't control it! I didn't see a way out!"
He curled up with the book in hand, sobbing like he was the one to be pitied. Like he was the victim and not the murderer, like he was deserving of any kind of sympathy.
"I didn't see a way," he repeated brokenly. "I didn't... I don't... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Please, forgive me..."
-
Jude never quite managed to get used to the hunger. Nor the isolation.
The abandoned shack he'd found was good for shelter, but it was not a luxury abode, and the little money he managed to scrape together every other evening while disguising himself as a human beggar was not enough for much. The coat had become his most prized possession along with all the treasures it held: the Bible, the rosary, and the wallet with all the documents.
He bought new things, too. Some soap so he could wash himself well enough in the river, some candles to combat the suffocating darkness. Every little thing was precious, bought with the goodwill of humans who didn't care to look too hard at the creature they were giving their change to.
Jude could've charmed them. He could've tricked someone into inviting him inside, and he could've enthralled them to let him stay. He could've lived a more comfortable life, with a soft bed, a clean bathtub, and a belly always full of the warmest blood.
But he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to take any of it.
He'd thought about getting a stake and finishing the job his sire had started. He wanted so badly to be put out of his misery, to be greeted with kindness and compassion at the pearly gates before being allowed in — but he didn't deserve that either. His life wasn't his own to take, and nor was his unlife. God would make that decision when He saw fit, and until then, Jude could do nothing but atone.
He took no blood from humans. He lived on the blood of pests and small woodland creatures; roadkill sometimes, when he got lucky. He hated killing anything, but at least it was allowed, or... or he hoped it was.
Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.
God had given the creatures to the humans, not the wretched monsters of the night. He could only hope and pray that his past humanity was something to be taken into consideration.
He was kneeling on the floor with his elbows resting on his borrowed bed, hands clasped together in prayer, when he caught the scent. A human. Was this the night he would finally be purged from the Earth? Or was the human the real owner of his makeshift home?
His stomach rumbled as the scent got stronger and stronger. His mouth was watering despite his best efforts to keep a level head, and he buried his face in the covers, trying to tune it out.
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.
Jude was shaking by the time the human reached the door of his temporary dwelling. He stayed on his knees and listened to the sounds of the lock being picked, preparing himself for the blessing that would be his permanent death.
If only he hadn't been starving. If only the human hadn't smelled so good.
But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
He lunged like a wild animal as soon as the door was pushed open. His fangs sank into the poor woman's neck easily, and she let out a groan as the venom took hold. Blood, so much blood, fresh, delicious, rich, so much better than the squirrels and rats–
Jude pulled back with a start, eyes wide with terror. No, no, no, not again, not again. He wiped his mouth and even his tongue with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the proof of his sin. The woman was still alive, letting out soft sounds of satisfaction as she lay there.
Her neck was still bleeding. He ought to close the wounds.
Jude licked his lips, then took a step backwards. No, he wouldn't lick her. Hadn't he done enough damage? He could– he could find something to bandage her with–
In truth, he didn't trust himself. There was no telling whether he'd have the self-control to stop for a second time, were he to get that close to her neck again.
"Don't you want a little more?" she asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I'm still bleeding so much... You don't want to waste it, do you?"
There was a mask covering the lower half of her face, and judging from that and the all black attire, she must've been a hunter. This woman could've staked him. God had given him an out, and he'd let himself be blinded by his selfish hunger.
"I'm s-sorry," Jude stammered, quickly rummaging through all his belogings to find at least a band-aid. "I'll, I'll help you– I'll patch you up, I just need a moment–"
"Can't you lick the wounds closed?" She got to her feet and ventured further into the cabin, grabbing onto the back of his shirt to steady herself and making him flinch. "There's so much blood... Is the flavour not to your liking?"
Jude spun around, and found himself trapped between the wall and his victim. She pulled her mask down and gave him a smile, eyes sparkling with unabashed want.
"You don't want this," he choked out. The smell was so strong. She was so close. She was offering, if only because of the venom, but she was offering nonetheless.
"Oh, but I do. I want it so badly."
Jude stopped breathing entirely, closing his eyes for a moment to think. "What's your name?"
"Pia Gravenor, Master."
"D-don't call me that, please."
"I can call you whatever you want, sir, if you just spare me one more bite..." Jude's eyes snapped open when she grabbed his hand and guided it to the wound, pressing his fingers against her skin slick with blood. "The bleeding isn't stopping anyway..."
He swallowed hard, and her smile widened. She was so desperate for just a bit more venom. He could give that to her, and close the wound after. He could take just one more sip. Just one more.
He was leaning in before he could fully process that he was doing it, lapping up the spilled blood trickling down her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair and kept him there, murmuring soft reassurances and pleas for him to bite again.
Please, forgive me. I'm so hungry. I've been hungry for so long.
Let me have a full meal, just this once.
~
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seoliee · 4 months
Text
Driving Fear Into Your Heart
Word Count: 2.7k words
Pairing: X x Reader
TW: Cursing, Kidnapping, Stabbing, Yandere Tendencies (Pls read smth else if not comfortable)
A/N: I said this was inspired by X's halloween theme skin, but idk this maybe how I perceived it instead? Anyhow, lemme know y'all thoughts <3
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In a dark and hollow forest somewhere near the city. Where only fragments of moonlight shone through the small crevices of the tall trees branches and its leaves. It was eerily silent, until swaying locks of hair pass through the bushes in a haste.
A girl ran barefooted, cracking sounds of dried leaves filled her hearing, leaving a trail behind. Her complexion was pale, fear stricken and distressed. Her body felt sore and drained, it was only sheer adrenaline that made her push through.
Her feet were starting to hurt, forming small cuts and bruises on the sole. She has to stop running at some point, but she can't. Not when she's running for her life.
~*4 days ago*~
She was in the cafeteria, sitting along with her friend at their usual booth and chatting about ramdom stuff. Just like the usual. She was attentively listening when her childhood friend X, came into view along with his own fair share of group.
She found herself falling out of the conversation and instead decided to watch him from a distance. Only did her friend's voice broke her out of the trance with a small nudge.
"Don't stare at him too much or he'll melt." Her friend says teasingly, chuckling at her obvious crush at the lab nerd.
"I-I wasn't staring!" She quickly rebukes her claim, though her blood red cheeks and ear were contradicting it.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyway.." Her friend's tone suddenly became serious, which made her get a bit confused as her friend seldom becomes serious during their conversations. "Have you heard about the kidnappings that's happening near the university recently?"
She shakes her head. She's been too absorbed on finishing her research paper these past few days that she blocked out any kind of gossips or news that would distract her from concentrating. She even went as far as to cancel all her plans of hanging out with X.
"There were a total of three missing cases reported and all of them were  students of different universities near our campus."
"The authorities haven't gotten a single clue whether it's a solo or a group operation. Either way, the kidnappers are still out there so do be careful."
Her warning sent a chill down her spine, terrified that such happenings were happening near them. Those poor students, she hopes that they were at least safe and alive.
She sent her friend a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand in a comforting way. "Don't worry. I always walk home with X anyway. You should be careful too."
"Oh, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm going on a date with y'know who later..." Her friend managed to light up the mood immediately by redirecting into another topic that she knew, she would interested in.
"What?? Since when? Tell me the fucking details!" She exclaims hysterically, practically slapping her hands down on the table earning a few strange looks from the people around them. She couldn't care less though.
Alas, the final bell rang throughout the halls signaling the end of the day. Tired groans from her fellow students and a few hastily gathers up their things, wanting to leave immediately.
As for her, she's delighted to walk home with him again after for so long only to be met with disappoinment.
"Sorry, (Y/n). I promised the guys I would hang out with them afterschool so I won't be able to walk you home." X says apologetically, a troubled smile grazing his handsome features.
He could see how your bright and grinning gorgeous face warps into a look of disappointment, making him feel guilty. "I can cancel it though. I'd rather be with you anyway."
The disappointment in her face quickly turns into a sheepish smile as she shook her head for a no. "No, it's alright. I can walk home with my friend instead." She obviously can't make him cancel his plans just for her satisfaction. After all, he has a life of his own.
"You sure? I could really—"
"Hey, X! You coming or what?!" One of his friends yells from a far, having an impatient look while the others grin at him in a teasing manner as they watch the scene unfold.
"Be there in a sec!" He yells back in response, looking over his shoulders with his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He looked back at her in disbelief. "Sorry about that. I gotta go. Remember to text me once you got home, okay?"
"I will." She chuckles, fondly grinning as light pink hue flows to her cheeks. This made X's heart softened, huffing a tiny chuckle as he brush a stray hair behind her ear.
"Be safe, my little lamb."
She watches as he ran up to his friends, some of them teasing him for the little moment they had. She's glad to know he found good friends despite his peculiar personality, he meant well.
~•~
After getting off the bus, the way to her apartment was already a bit dark and somewhat silent than usual at her on time arrival at dawn. Though, that's to be expected as she's staying in a peaceful neighborhood which she should be thankful for.
The soles of her shoes clicks on the pavement on each step she makes, the soft cold breeze of air moving past her ear as chills ran down her spine. Her surroundings were dark, the only light present were from the flickering street lights and the moon above her, which she thinks added to her paranoia.
She doesn't know if it's because she isn't used to walking home alone or is there someone watching her? She swore she could feel eyes from everywhere around her.
As she turned to a corner, footsteps sudden came to light from behind. She didn't thought anything of it, as it could be a passerby or a neighbor. Thankfully, she's near to her home so she briskly walked and much to her surprise, the person behind her began to speed up.
This set off alarm bells in her head, once she could see the light from her porch. She began to ran and screamed for help. However, all hope is lost once she felt a sharp pain struck behind her head as darkness engulf her sight.
~*~
A horrible stench whapped into her nose, as consciousness slowly seeped back into her figure. She pry her eyes open, blinking away the drowsiness as her vision clears up and able to take in her surroundings.
She's sat in the corner of a crusty room, the wallpapers were ripped and moldy. The pipes above her were leaking with merky water which where the awful stench came from. The windows in the room were boarded, as nothing but the gush of wind and crickets were heard from the outside.
She tried to move, but found it difficult as her wrists were tightly bounded together from behind to a pipe. She found it quite hard to breath because of the tight cloth on her lips. Panic fills her body as she heard heavy footsteps, and an unknown man had entered the room.
She glares at him, which made him smirk at her feistiness. He bends down to her eye level, and pats her head. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"
His breath fans to her face, which made her feel nauseous and wants to puke at the horrible smell of alcohol and poor oral hygiene coming from him. He took off the cloth that's covering her mouth and traced his disgusting thumb across her bottom lip.
She didn't hesitate to bite down on his finger, hard enough to make him scream and recoil his hand away as blood rushes out of the bite. The man was furious and smashed the bottle of alcohol in his hand and points the severed half towards her.
"Don't fuck with me, woman. I can—" He was cut off when he heard a buzz coming from his phone. He clicked his tongue and immediately answers the phone, proceeding to leave the room.
Once he's out of sight, all the energy seeped out of her body as hot tears rushes down her cheeks. Tears trickle down to her knees, as she kept her mouth close to silent her ugly sobs. Her chest felt so tight, she's scared, deeply scared. She didn't think something like this could happen to her. Not when after being warned by her friend.
Then, she saw a faint glimmer from her peripheral vision. She looks up and saw a piece of broken glass from the bottle near her. She uses her foot to reach towards the shard and manages to push it to her side and tries her best to grab it.
Once she successfully got it, she began to slowly cut the rope, but found it to be quite thick and tough for the nibble blade.
It took her roughly 3 days before she could finally cut the rope because she was constantly interrupted by people coming in and sometimes watching over her. She felt drained as she refused to eat anything they gave her, but it didn't matter because she'll be out of her in no time.
She pushed her body up, and slowly walked up to the door, careful not to make any noise. She turns the knob and opens a small gap to peek. It was silent and there was only one man outside, and he was sleeping soundly, practically snoring.
She gently swing the door open, careful to not make it creek as she steps out of the room. She held in her breath as she began to take light steps behind the sleeping man. She sucked in her breath as the man began to turn in his sleep, rendering her still as she kept her eyes on him. Once she deemed it was safe, she continues her way to the door.
She steps out into the cold night, as a smile finally crept to her lips, tasting her freedom. Only for panic to once again surge as one of the men guarding outside saw her and calls to her, alerting the others.
She didn't think twice and ran into the dark woods. She didn't mind if twigs poked the sole of her feet, nor if she stepped on pointed pebbles. She just ran wherever she could, taking sharp turns to confuse her captors.
She could hear their voices getting farther, but she knows she shouldn't celebrate yet as the woods were hollow and wasn't sure if she's heading towards civilization or deeper in.
Her speed slow down as her adrenaline began to dissipate, she's breathless and looks around for any source of life. Much to her surprise, a hand had grabbed her wrist and instinctively she swipped her hand forcefully and elbows whoever it is.
The person grunts and moans in pain, the voice was oddly familiar. The person lights up their phone to their face, and soon she was able to make out who he was.
"You pack a mean elbow, little lamb." X smiles, chuckling despite the stinging pain on his nose. "Makes me think you didn't actually needed me."
His face quickly transforms into a scowl, looking back once he heard numerous of voices barking behind them. Without another word, he took her wrist and guided her out of the woods.
She saw his motorcycle parked by the side of the road, she hopped on and X quickly stepped onto the pedal as they drove away.
Her hands tightly hugged the small of his waist, leaning her head against his broad back as she tries to catch her breath. Her feet were in pain as well as her whole body. She couldn't stop shaking, as she cried on his back.
She felt his hand comfortably brush against hers, which sent butterflies inside her stomach flutter in ease.
"How.. did you find me?" She asks, keeping her head close to his back and listens to his faint heartbeat.
"I finally managed to track your gps using my phone and followed its location." He replies, keeping his voice low and words consise. "Sorry it took me a while. I had to first know your ips before managing to connect. Thank god, your phone is in working order too or I won't be able to track you."
His words flew into her ear, but she couldn't make sense of it as her energy began to lower that's she finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. "Thank you, X."
"No worries. After all, you know I'm always here for you." She could hear the usual smile in his voice. She finally lets herself rest and is unable to hear his next words.
"And I'm all that you need, and no one else matters, my little lamb."
A sickening and sadistic smile curls up to his lips, chuckling lowly.
~•~
X dumps a bucket full of cold water down on the unconscious person tied up to a chair infront of him. The man, jolts awake and flickers his eyes up at X.
"Good, good. You're finally awake. Did you slept well?" X muses, keeping the usual permanent smile on his face.
The man didn't bother to answer, starting to wiggle his way out of the chair in panic. X was displeased by this, but made no action and instead clicked his tongue.
The man finally stopped trying, his energy running low. "You bastard! Why are you doing this, X?! Let me go!"
The man's voice was irritating to X's ears, but he was glad to respond to his question in a simple and conventional manner.
X had walked up to the nearby switch and flicks it. Light began to shine on the wall littered with pictures. Pictures of (Y/n). His cheeks reddens as he took a step closer to the wall, his eyes flickering at each picture he took throughout the years in complete secrecy.
"Don't you think she's beautiful?" X asks the man, which confuses him and found the revelation quite disturbing.
"W-What...?"
"You asked why I'm doing this and it's because of her." X says, turning towards him once more. He took a step closer to a nearby table, his hand brushing against each tool on it. "I am merely protecting her from the filth swarming around her and trying to take what's mine..."
X grips the handle of a sharp and bloodied knife in his hand, taking slow steps towards the now frantic man who's eyes are filled with terror as he tries to reason with him.
X stops infront of him, bending down to his eye level. He moves his face closer to him, keeping his heterochromatic eyes into the man's terrified and shaking ones, a sadistic smile slowly forming on his lips. "This wouldn't have happened if you just kept your distance from her and not end up in the same predicament like the others..."
X had driven the knife into the man's throat, and pulls it back out. He watches as the man gurgle in his own blood rushing out of his mouth. He continues his attack until he was satisfied.
He only stopped a buzz emits in his pocket that came from his phone. With his bloodied hand, he tapped the screen and answers the caller.
"You got her? That's good news!" X muses, as he nods at the following sentences from the person in the other line.
His eyes flickers down to the mutilated and lifeless man in front of him, blood pours down onto the ground and pools around his shoes. He clicked his tongue, thinking he made quite a mess this time.
"Yeah yeah, I got it. Remember, don't touch her. Unless, you got a death wish." X warns before ending the call. He began to walk towards the wall swapped with photos of you, filling his heart with love and feeling of ease.
"Sorry, my little lamb. You just have to learn the hard way this time." X took a certain picture from the wall, looking down on it with a soft eyes and smile. It was a picture of them back when they were still children.
"And this time, with driving fear into your heart. You'll realize that I'm the only you'll ever need and trust after I come and save you."
~•~
I think I flunked this lol.
Thanks for reading though <3
Happy holidays everyone!!!
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