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#but hes trying to work through normal people feelings and emotions on his own and while its hard to see its necessary....
writeriguess · 3 days
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katsuki x female reader where she is usually so closed off behind sassy act but becomes vulnerable for the first time around him when she has drunken her worries away
You were always a force to be reckoned with, strutting through the halls with a confidence that rivaled the best of them. Your quick wit and sharp tongue kept most people at arm's length, a strategy you perfected over the years. It was easier to hide behind the sass than to let anyone see what was really underneath.
Especially around him.
Katsuki Bakugo was a different breed of intensity, someone who met your fire with fire. The few times you exchanged words, it was a clash of egos, both too proud to back down. But despite the frequent verbal sparring, there was something about him that lingered in the back of your mind, an unspoken connection that neither of you had ever acknowledged.
And tonight, it all came crashing down.
The dim lights of the bar flickered above you as you nursed the last remnants of your drink, the alcohol warming your insides and dulling the sharp edges of your mind. You weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight... tonight you had too much on your mind. The pressure of hero work, the expectations, the facade you’d kept up for so long—it all became too heavy.
You let out a sigh, staring into the glass as though the answers to your problems were swirling at the bottom. The buzz in your head softened your usual defenses, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to be so guarded.
That’s when you felt it—his presence. Even in your haze, you could sense Bakugo's intense aura as he approached, his eyes locking onto you from across the bar. His usual scowl was in place, though there was something different in his expression, something almost concerned.
"Tch, what the hell are you doing?" His voice was gruff as he slid into the seat next to you.
You looked up at him, eyes slightly unfocused. "Bakugo..." you slurred his name, barely recognizing the softness in your own voice. "Just... drinking. Relaxing. Like a normal person."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You? Relaxing? Yeah, right. What's really going on?"
You scoffed, though the sound was half-hearted. "Nothing you need to worry about, okay? I'm fine."
But the second the words left your mouth, you felt your carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening your grip, or maybe it was the way Bakugo's intense gaze seemed to see right through you. Either way, the façade was slipping, and for the first time, you didn't have the strength to hold it up.
"I'm not fine," you whispered, voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.
Bakugo’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. He was waiting.
You swallowed hard, trying to pull yourself together, but it was too late. The vulnerability that you'd spent so long hiding was bubbling to the surface, and there was no stopping it.
"I’ve been pretending... for so long," you continued, your voice thick with emotion. "Pretending like everything's fine, like I have it all under control, but... I don’t. It’s exhausting, Katsuki." You rarely used his first name, but it slipped out naturally, your usual barriers completely gone. "I’m so tired."
For a moment, Bakugo was silent, his gaze unwavering as he processed your words. Then, without warning, he stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you up from the barstool.
"Come on," he muttered, his voice softer than usual.
"Where are we—" you started, but he cut you off.
"Outside. You need air."
You let him lead you out of the crowded bar, the cool night breeze hitting your face as you stepped onto the empty street. Bakugo didn’t let go of your wrist until you both reached a quiet spot away from the noise. He turned to face you, his expression serious.
"You're an idiot if you think you're the only one who feels that way," he said bluntly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "Everyone’s struggling. Being a hero isn't easy, and you’re not some invincible machine. You're allowed to be tired."
You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. It wasn’t like him to be so... understanding.
"I just... I don’t know how to let anyone in," you admitted, your voice small. "If I do, I’ll fall apart."
"Then fall apart," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You think being strong means never breaking? That’s bullshit. Real strength is getting back up after you fall."
Your chest tightened at his words, and before you could stop yourself, tears welled up in your eyes. You hated crying, especially in front of people, but right now, you couldn’t hold it back any longer.
"I'm scared, Katsuki," you whispered, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared of failing, of not being enough."
Bakugo’s expression softened, just a fraction, and he stepped closer. "You're enough," he said firmly, his voice low. "You’re more than enough. And if you fall, I’ll be there to pick you up. Got it?"
His words broke something inside you, and before you knew it, you were burying your face in his chest, the sobs you had been holding in for so long finally escaping. Bakugo didn’t push you away or make some snide comment. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you cried.
For the first time in forever, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. And for the first time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone.
"I got you," Bakugo muttered into your hair, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "I’ve always got you."
And in that moment, you believed him.
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ultra-raging-ghost · 4 months
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Richas is trying to help bad convey his feelings and bads like post-reset social ineptness is showing because hes like "yeah i wanted to have a full day with her because she asked because she was upset" which is so fucking real. actually might need to make a whole separate post about how bad thinks because i understand it really hard
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jewishrat420 · 8 months
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
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brunchable · 1 month
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UNDER HIS COMMAND [R 18+]
Steve Rogers × Agent!FReader
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Words: 6.2K Warming: Age Gap (reader in early 20s), unprotected piv sex, domineering acts. oral (both receiving), dirty talk, praising. Summary: You drove Steve to his utmost limit, but what is it going to take to get him to calm down? A/N: I rewatched the old Marvel movies and have been feeling feral towards coughCAPT'Ncough. Bon appetitties?
The mission had gone sideways in a way that left Steve Rogers simmering with frustration. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, a foreign sensation that made his chest tight and his thoughts cloudy. You had gone against his direct orders, putting yourself in danger—again—and it had pushed Steve to his breaking point.
As you stood in your private cabin, both your voices echoing off the walls, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer.
“You had no right to do that, Y/N!” Steve’s voice cut through the air like a blade, sharper and louder than you’d ever heard it.
Your eyes flashed with defiance as you fought back with all your frustration. "I made that call because it was the right thing to do! I was not going to allow those people to die just because you were excessively consumed with following the agenda!
Steve’s fists clenched at his sides, his muscles taut with barely restrained anger. “This isn’t about saving lives—it’s about you ignoring direct orders! You put yourself in danger, and you compromised the entire mission! You can’t just act on impulse and expect everything to work out!”
As he felt feelings he wasn't accustomed to expressing, his normally composed demeanor began to crumble under the strain of mounting aggravation. It frightened him that he could feel his grip weakening. He had never been so furious with you before; the level of intensity was nearly too much to bear.
You stepped closer, refusing to back down. “I thought about it! I knew exactly what I was doing, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat! You’re the one who doesn’t get it! You’re so obsessed with being in control that you can’t stand it when someone else makes a decision!”
“This isn’t about control, Y/N! This is about you thinking you know better than everyone else! You think you’re invincible, but you’re not! One day, your recklessness is going to get you in serious trouble and then what? How are we supposed to deal with that?” Steve’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as the anger threatened to spill over. 
Your eyes narrowed, your voice rising in anger matching his. “You’re the one who’s supposed to trust me! But you don’t! You can’t stand it when things don’t go according to your plan, so you lash out at me like I’m some kind of liability!”
Steve took a step closer, the space between you charged with tension. “I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and watch you throw yourself into danger without a second thought! You didn’t see how close you came, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw!”
“What you saw?” you shot back, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’re always trying to shield me from things, Steve, but you can’t keep doing that! I’m not a child! I’m your partner, and that means you have to let me make my own choices, even if they scare you!”
As Steve struggled to control the flood of emotions that were about to overflow, his breaths came in short, quick bursts and his palms quivered. 
“You think I’m trying to control you? I’m trying to keep you alive! I’m trying to make sure that you come back, every single time! But you… you don’t think about what that does to me.”
“And what about what it does to me? Every time you go off on some mission, every time you put yourself in danger without thinking about the consequences, do you know what that does to me? Do you?”
Steve’s face twisted with frustration, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “I do know. I know because I feel it too, every time you do something reckless, every time you make a decision that could get you. . .” He couldn’t  say the word, “And it terrifies me, Y/N. It terrifies me because one day, I might not be there to save you.”
Even though he looks angry, worry is visible in his eyes. You tightened your jaw because you were at a loss for words to respond to him.
Steve pivoted and stomped out of the room before you had a chance to reply. He had to escape for a moment to collect himself before he spoke a word he would regret. Heading directly for the woodpile, he stepped outside, his breath coming in quick, angry bursts.
By the time you caught up with him, Steve was already there, his jacket discarded on the ground. He grabbed the axe with a force that sent a jolt of pain through his arm, but he welcomed it. He needed to feel something physical, something tangible to anchor him in the midst of the storm raging inside him.
Without hesitation, he began chopping. The axe came down with a powerful swing, the wood splitting cleanly in half. But it wasn’t enough. The anger was still there, burning hot and fierce in his chest, so he swung again. And again. And again.
These pent-up emotions had been growing for weeks, if not months, and it was evident in every swing. The fear that he would lose you, the frustration that you didn’t seem to understand how much he cared, how much it hurt to see you risking your life time and time again. He was feeling helpless and that his only option was to keep chopping, to redirect his wrath onto something that wouldn't harm you or ruin everything both had built together.
Steve reached for yet another thick log, this one feeling rock-solid and unmoveable. None of that mattered. His muscles tensed as he lifted the axe above his head, and he lowered it with such power that the wood splintered. Although he felt the hit all over, it failed to provide him with the relief he had hoped for. He was being torn apart by the rage that remained dormant, just below the surface.
“So this is it? You’re just going to chop wood until the problem disappears?” Amidst the steady clack of the axe on wood, your irritated, sharp voice sliced through the air.
Steve didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The overwhelming wave of feelings he couldn't articulate washed over him, leaving him unable to speak. He swung the axe again, harder this time, as if he could somehow chop away everything he felt.
But then, a switch went off in his brain. That axe wasn't cutting it. He needed more—he needed to break something with his own hands, to feel the physical release of the anger that was consuming him.
He snatched up yet another log, this one heavier and thicker than the rest. His hands, still trembling with fury, gripped the log tightly. His muscles bulged as he poured all his anger, all his frustration, into his grip.
“Steve, talk to me! You can’t just—”
But before you could finish, Steve let out a low, guttural roar and pulled at the log with all his might. The wood resisted at first, but Steve was relentless. His biceps strained, his veins standing out against his skin, and with a deafening crack, the log gave way. He tore it in half with his bare hands, the wood splintering under the sheer force of his strength.
The pieces fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the sound almost drowned out by the ringing in your ears. You stood there, frozen, your breath caught in your throat as you watched Steve’s display of raw power. It was terrifying—seeing him so close to the edge, so consumed by anger—but it was also something else, something that sent a shiver down your spine.
You were genuinely scared by his actions just now. The shock that he could lose control, that he could be so driven by his feelings, was a stark reminder of how much he cared, how deeply he felt. But alongside that shock was a rush of something primal, something that made your pulse quicken and your cheeks flush.
You shouldn’t have found it attractive—this display of strength—but you did. Seeing Steve like this, so powerful, so intense—he never bragged about his power, and it stirred something inside you that you couldn’t deny. Your body reacts before your mind could catch up, a rush of heat flooding your senses.
Steve turned to face you, his chest still heaving, his eyes blazing. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” His voice was rough, almost broken. “That I’m okay with you going off on your own and putting yourself so close to death? Because I’m not!”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the chaos in his eyes. It made your heart ache. To him it didn’t matter if you were one of the best agents out there because he knew how life is so fragile, he knew because he's been around for ages—you forget that sometimes his cellular age is not twenty-seven.
For now, both of you stood there, the tension thick and suffocating, wrapping around you like an iron vice.
You took a shaky breath, the sound of it almost deafening in the quiet that had fallen between you. You knew you should say something, anything, to defuse the situation. But your throat felt tight, and the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to reconcile the man you love with the fury that had just been unleashed.
Steve’s chest heaved with each breath, his fists still clenched at his sides. He didn't know how to come down from the brink he'd been driven to, didn’t know how to deal with the mix of relief and frustration that you were standing in front of him, unharmed but defiant. 
His mind raced with the images of what could have happened, what might have happened if he hadn’t been there to pull you out of the fire. The thought was enough to make his vision blur with a fresh wave of anger and fear.
“I can’t lose you, Y/N,” Steve finally managed to say, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Do you understand that? I can’t. I don’t know what I’d do if something happens to you.” 
Your breath hitched, your heart hurt at the openness in his voice, and the urgent plea cut through your barriers. You knew how much he cared—how deeply he felt everything—but hearing it, seeing it in the way his hands shook, in the way his eyes were filled with unshed tears, made it impossible to stay mad.
Driven by a surge of emotion you couldn't contain, you briskly walked towards him. Steve kept his gaze glued onto you, anticipating your next move. In an instant, you closed the distance between you, your body moving on instinct alone. 
You leaped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, your hands fisting in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss that was searing, desperate, and filled with every ounce of the fire that had fueled the argument.
His kiss was intoxicating. You pressed yourself against him, your body molding to his as you deepened the kiss, your mouth moving against his lips with a fervor.
You could feel the tension in his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin, and it only made you want him more, made you kiss him harder, as if you could imprint yourself on him, claim him in a way that left no room for doubt.
Steve's grip on you was bruising as his hands found your hips, pulling you even closer, his own body responding to the intensity of the moment. He angled his head, deepening the kiss further, your tongues clashing in a dance that was as much about dominance as it was about the overwhelming need to feel connected.
You let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating between you, spurring you both on. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you couldn't get enough. You shifted against him, your hips pressing into his, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire for you, and it sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.
When you finally broke apart, it wasn't because you wanted to, but because you both had to breathe. Your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling, both of them trembling from the force of what had just happened. 
Your breathing was ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Steve's eyes, blue like the ocean but filled with fire. The air between you crackled with an electric tension, the heat of your shared desire still burning hot.
“I’m still mad at you. Chopping wood was not enough,” Steve whispered his voice rough, “I hope you're prepared for that.”
“Try me.” You replied breathily against his lips. 
Steve didn't need any more encouragement.
When he reached the back-door, he didn’t hesitate. With a powerful kick, he busted it open, the door slamming against the wall with a force that echoed through the room and shook walls.
Steve's hands gripped you firmly as he turned, pinning you against the nearest wall, his body pressing onto yours, the solid weight of him making you gasp. His mouth found yours again, and the kiss, filled with intensity that left you both dizzy, desperate for more.
You could feel the way his body responded to your every touch, every kiss. Your hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the hard muscle, needing to hold on, to anchor yourself against the storm of emotions swirling inside you.
Steve's grip on you tightened, his hands sliding from your hips to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer. He pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, making you shiver. The sensation sent a wave of heat rushing through you, igniting every nerve in your body.
“Y/N…” Steve's voice was low, a rough whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. You could feel the restrained tension in him, the way his body was coiled like a spring, ready to snap. “You drive me fucking crazy.”
Shit. He swore. Now you know you're in deep trouble—and it excites you. You tightened your legs around his waist, leaning into him as you captured his lips once more, this time with even more intensity, more urgency.
Steve responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours in a kiss that was possessive. His hands roamed over your back, his touch firm, grounding you as you lost yourself in the taste of him. His touch ignited a trail of fire everywhere.
He pushes the hem of your shirt above your head and pulls off your black tee shirt, tossing it aside like it was nothing, exposing your bare breast, then his mouth devours you. He suckles and licks urgently, opening his mouth wider to envelop nearly your whole breast. It’s as if he wants to taste every inch of your skin all at once.
You moaned and arched your back, which thrusts your breast against his face, causing your fleshy mound to squeeze against him and bulge out at the sides. 
His hand, rugged and calloused from years of relentless work, moved with purposeful intent to the other. He gripped your breast firmly and began to knead, applying a rough pressure on your flesh.
You squeeze his shoulders, grasping at the starched cotton of his shirt. It feels manly under your palms. Your mouth drops open when the shape of his hard cock lines up perfectly against you, applying a delicious pressure you desperately need. 
“Oh my—Steve. . .”
Any self-preservation you've been holding on to evaporates at the feel of his hot length, and your hips tilt into him on their own. 
You groan simultaneously at the much-needed friction. His scent, his rough groans, the tight hold of his large hands, the stab of his hot tongue—everything about Steve is strong, hard, domineering, and so deliciously male. 
His mouth leaves your breast whispering into your ear, “Are you going to disobey me again?”
“I can't promise you that I won't.” You try to pull back and drop your legs, but he grips your thighs, holding them open, and presses his bulging cock onto you.
He loved the way you looked, the way you reacted, and he loved everything about you. You were the most precious thing in the world to him. So beautiful, so sweet, so giving and too damn good for him, but he was a selfish bastard and wouldn’t let you go.
Ever.
His breath fans over your neck, and he whispers dangerously. “That so?”
You didn’t notice how you both ended up in the bedroom until he shoved you toward the bed, because you found yourself falling onto it, the descent feeling agonizingly slow.
Your head turned sideways just as it was about to collide with the mattress, but you were too shocked to react, too numb to fight back against what was unfolding.
Steve moved with a swift, commanding presence, leaping onto the bed and straddling your torso with an authority that pinned you down. His shirt was already on the floor when you met his eyes—dark, angry. A side of him you're seeing for the first time in the bedroom.
His muscles are swollen from chopping all that wood and splitting one in half with his hands. His abs were a testament to the discipline and strength he had cultivated over the years. The six-pack was not just defined but chiseled, each muscle distinct and firm beneath the taut skin. 
He pushed your thigh open with his knee, his palm grazing from your stomach, between the valleys of your breasts, stopping at where your collar bone meets the base of your neck. 
All of your focus is on its path, and you quiver when his thumb now brushes the bottom curve of your breast. 
“This is mine.” He twists your nipple, sending shards of electricity tumbling through you, and you buck against him, lust completely taking over all your senses. 
“Yes,” You gasp and roll your hips, willing to say anything he wants to get him to continue touching you, searching for the right position to hit your clit with the head of his cock, desperate for more.
His chuckles tickle the sensitive shell of your ear, and a shiver runs through you as the sharp ridges of his teeth gently close on the soft earlobe. “Such a good girl all of a sudden?”
He drags his hand down your body, exploring it like he’s mapping every inch of you by touch alone. He forces your jeans off, almost ripping it in the process.
His thumb grazes your clit through your underwear, and a pained cry escapes your lips. He craves knowing the sounds you'll make as he drives his cock hard inside you. He'd make you beg for more until you scream out his name as he sear himself into your soul.
“Do you know what good girls get, Y/N?” He slides under the thin fabric and circles the spot you need him the most. “Good girls get to come.” 
“Please,” you beg. Every molecule of your being is focused on his fingers. The weight of the air around you compresses until it’s hard to suck in your next breath. Tension radiates as you wait for what happens next. His touch is the only thing that matters.
He shifts you so he can reach lower, sliding wet fingers through your slit, then circling your entrance. You whimper his name as he sinks two fingers inside you. 
“Look at you, soaked for me. Ready. This pussy knows she’s mine.” His voice is a dark rumble as he pumps his fingers in and out in a slow, torturous rhythm.
“I need more,” you grind out through your teeth.
“Take it. Fuck my fingers,” he orders you against your ear and loosens his hold to allow you to take control. 
You wrap your arm around his neck, leveraging yourself, and grip his hair as you work yourself on his fingers. 
Steve’s breath comes out in hot pants against your jaw, and he bites down on the edge at the same time his palm massages your clit. You forget to breathe as you rock against him, your head buzzing with the lack of oxygen.
“Oh yes, right there.” You gasped.
“That’s my pretty little pussy, fucking herself so well.” He adds another finger, and your world goes blank. All that’s left are his commands. “Come for me.”
Tingles shoot up your spine as your entire body pulls tight, and then your orgasm crashes over you in shuddering waves. “Steve.”
He pumps every last ounce of your release, his hands glistening. “That’s it. Say my name.” 
“Steve,” You say, barely a whisper.
He withdraws his finger then and lifts his hand to your face, pressing his finger against your lips. It’s the same finger that was just inside you. 
“Suck it,” he orders, and you obediently open your mouth, sucking the finger in. You can taste yourself, your own desire, and it makes you even more turned on. 
When he’s satisfied that the fingers are clean, he removes it from your mouth, grasping your chin with his hand instead, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I'm going to ask you again, are you going to disobey me?” 
You stare up at him, mesmerized by the dark blue striations in his irises. Your body is throbbing with need, desperately craving his possession. You want him to take you, to fill the aching emptiness within.
A smile of defiance crept on your lips as you cocked your head forward, “My answer remains that same.” 
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.” he warns, voice low, and a tremble runs through you. 
Your instincts are on high alert, but you don’t try to pull away. You swallow hard. “What game?” 
“The one where you act like all has been put aside. That you don’t already know who you pissed off. Or do you need a reminder?” He shifts his grip and circles your neck with his fingers, resting them on your collarbone as a warning. 
Heat pours into your core, and your clit throbs. A low moan escapes you, and his smile turns dark. He pushes closer, bent so his breath fans against your mouth. 
“I’m going to spin you around and fuck your pretty pussy against this bed, I think it’s fair I take out my frustrations on you. I will make you beg so hard, because baby, I can do this all fucking day.” He said with grit. 
Your ears ring, and all your thoughts vanish with his words. You push yourself up, closing the distance between your mouths. He groans deep and takes over the kiss, running his tongue against yours until you're consumed by him. Your head feels light from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t pull away, letting him do whatever he wants to you.
There’s a power that surges inside you, giving in to his control. No matter his threats, you know if you told him to stop, he would. 
He’s not gentle when he flips you on your stomach. His hands fisted at your hips and you heard a snap as he tore your panties away. The abrupt sound and the violent action behind it spurred your desire to a fever pitch. 
You hear him unzip his jeans, and in your attempt to look, he presses your head hard into the mattress. Then, you feel him pulling while he collects all of your hair and wraps it around his hand with the intention of using it as a rein. 
You let out a whimper when Steve tugged harder. You don’t hesitate to move when his foot meets yours and spreads your legs further apart. He grunts in approval and runs his fingers up your slit, before his erection brushed between your legs as he moved and you whimpered, so aching and empty, as if the orgasms he’d given you earlier had only deepened your craving rather than appeased it. 
Then he shifts his hips a little and uses his hand to guide his shaft toward your opening. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as he begins to push inside. You're extremely wet, but you still feel uncomfortably stretched as he slides in all the way. Steve doesn’t give you time to adjust before withdrawing and slamming in again, his thrust doling out punishment and pleasure.
“Fuck,” he hisses when you squeeze around him, and a sharp slap lands on your ass. “You’re so tight.”
You bite your lower lip, trying to cope with the burning, too-full feeling. You clutch at the bed sheets, needing something to hold on to as the familiar tension starts to gather low in your belly. The head of his cock brushes against that sensitive spot somewhere inside you. You gasp as he pulls your hair harshly making you arch to take him deeper, needing more of that intense sensation, wanting to bring you over the edge.
“Oh my god, Steve, yes,” you cried, finding your face pressed into the mattress again and you could hardly breathe. All you can feel is him: the back-and-forth movement of his thick cock inside your body, the heat emanating from his skin. 
In this position, he goes deep, even deeper than usual, and you can’t help the pained gasps that escape your throat as the head of his cock bumps against your cervix with each thrust of his hips. Yet the discomfort doesn’t seem to prevent the pressure growing inside you again, and you feel climax coming again, your inner muscles clenching helplessly around his shaft.
“Oh no you don't,” He groans harshly, sensing that you're about to come. Then he pulls out. Leaving a void of emptiness that aches. The womanly fluids that leak down your thighs now felt cold, before you could protest, Steve flips you again and your eyes finally get to lay upon his magnificence, his erection at your eye level.
But all he does is look at you, a mocking half-smile playing on his beautiful lips. “You think I’m going to come inside you, Y/N?” he asks softly. “Is that what you’re expecting me to do?”
You blink, startled by the question. Of course you expect him to do that. You did something that upsetted him. Apparently reading the answer on your face, he smiles wider. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not exactly in a generous mood.” 
“Sit up and suck it,” he murmurs, looking down at you.
Aroused by the command, you fluttered your tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when he rewarded you with a hot burst of pre-cum. Fisting the root of him with one hand, you hollow your cheeks and draw rhythmically.
You cup his balls in your other hand and squeeze them lightly. He groans, his eyes closing and his hand fisting your hair, and you continue, moving your mouth up and down on his cock, swallowing him deeper every time.
Your head bobbed as you pleasured him, jacking him with one hand while you sucked and stroked the crest with your mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of his cock, and you slid the flat of your tongue along them, tilting your head to find and caress each one. 
He swelled, growing thicker and longer.
“Baby, you suck me so good.” He held your head still and took over. Thrusting his hips. Fucking your mouth. Stripped to a level of base need where only the race to orgasm mattered.
You gripped his straining thighs in both hands, frantically working your lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were heavy and big, an audacious display of his powerful virility. You cupped them, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten and draw up.
“Ah, Y/N.” His voice was a guttural rasp. His grip tightened in your hair. “You’re making me come.” 
The first spurt of semen was so thick, you struggled to swallow. Mindless in his pleasure, Steve was thrusting against the back of your throat, his cock throbbing with every wrenching pulse into your mouth. You eyes watered and your lungs burned, but still you pumped your fists, milking him. His entire body shuddered as you took everything he had. The sounds he made and the muttered, breathless praise were the most gratifying you'd ever heard. 
You licked him clean, keeping eye contact the entire time, marveling at how he didn’t fully soften even after an explosive orgasm. He was still capable of fucking you senseless and more than willing to, you knew. He wasn't kidding when he says he can do it all fucking day.
× × × ×
“OH, God.” Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, your back arching as Steve pinned your hips to the bed and his lips circled your clit and his cheeks hollowed. Sucking rhythmically, he massaged the hypersensitive knot with the tip of his tongue.
Your skin was coated in a fine sheen of sweat, your vision blurring as your core tightened viciously in preparation for orgasm. Your pulse was thrumming and racing. You've comed twice already, as much from the sight of his blonde head between your legs as from his wickedly gifted mouth. 
“I’m ready.” You pushed your fingers into his hair, feeling the dampness at the roots. His restraint was costing him. You're overstimulated and he's taking the time to make sure you are soft and wet before filling you too full with his long, thick cock.
“I’ll decide when you’re ready.”
“I need you inside me, please. I won’t disobey your orders again.” You pleaded, bucking your hips towards his face.
“You ache without my cock inside you. You’ll say anything to have me there.” Steve crawled toward you like a sleek panther on the prowl.
“Yes.”
He hovered over you, his big body casting a shadow over yours. Tilting his head, he lowered his mouth and lightly traced the seam of your lips with the tip of his tongue. 
“You crave it. You feel empty without it.” 
“Yes, damn you.” You gripped his lean hips, arching upward to try to feel his body against your. You never felt closer to him than when you were making love, and you needed that closeness now, needed to feel like you were okay.
He settled between your legs, his erection lying hard and hot between the lips of your pussy. 
“I need you,” you breathed, rubbing your wet cleft shamelessly along the heated length of his cock.
“Not yet.” He moved, rolling his hips to find you with the broad head of his penis. He pushed gently against you, parting you, spreading you open as he slipped just the tip inside. You writhed against the tight fit, your body begging. 
“Fuck me. God … just fuck me!” 
Steve reached down with one hand and grabbed your hip, stemming your frenzied attempts to push up and take more of him.
You fought his hold. Your nails dug into the tight curves of his ass and you tugged him against you. If you didn’t get him in you, you thought you'd lose your mind. 
“Give it to me!”
Steve slid his hand into your hair, fisting it to hold you where he wanted you. “Look at me.” 
“Steven!” 
“Look at me.”
You stilled at the command in his voice. You stared up at him, your frustration melting as you watched a slow, gradual transformation sweep over his handsome face.
With his eyes still on yours, he reached beside him to claim your wrists. One at a time, he lifted your arms over your head, restraining you. Pinned to the mattress by his grip, his weight, and his unflagging erection.
Steve slowly enters you, penetrating you inch by slow inch. It feels good, so unbelievably good, and you moan again, tightening your inner muscles around his shaft. He groans, closing his eyes, and you do it again, wanting more of the sensation. 
He opens his eyes and stares at you, his face taut with lust and his eyes glittering. You hold his gaze, fascinated by the fierce need you see there.
He began to thrust, stroking through the trembling walls of your cunt with the thickly veined length of his big cock. Claiming you. Possessing you.
You can hear his harsh breathing, and you know that he’s exerting a lot of control over himself, that he probably wants to fuck you harder but is trying not to ‘damage you beyond repair.’ Nevertheless, his movements cause your insides to twist and churn, causing you to cry out with every stroke.
“I love you.” your voice is barely audible, each word feeling like it’s being wrenched out of your very soul.
You can see his pupils dilating while grinding breathlessly, “Tell me again.” 
“I love you.” which came out like a small, helpless sound.
“I love you too.”
Struggling with the grinding urge to rock into the ferocious thrusts of his big cock. He shoved his other hand beneath your hip, cupping your rear and lifting you into his thrusts so that his cock head stroked over and over the spot that ached for him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, pounding his hips up at you, yanking your hips up to meet his punishing strokes. 
“Yes, yes! Come inside me.” you yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Steve hit the end of you with every deep thrust, battering into you. You could feel him growing harder and thicker. You watched him avidly, needing to see it when he went over the edge for you. His eyes were wild with his need, losing their focus as his control frayed, his gorgeous face ravaged by the brutal race to climax. 
“Y/N, I'm coming!” He came with an animal sound of feral ecstasy, a snarling release that riveted you with its ferocity. He shook as the orgasm tore into him, his cock jerking as it pumped thick spurts of scorching semen into you.
You climaxed in a rush that had you sobbing his name, your bodies convulsing as the sensation enhanced and magnified by the way he’d controlled your body. 
Steve laid on top of you, waiting for his cock to get soft before he pulled out. Your body remains convulsing under him.
“You’re a machine,” you told him, trying to catch your breath. “Or a god.”
Steve let out a low, breathless chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as he held you close. He laid beside you, his chest was still heaving from the intensity of what you had just done, but there was a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. Steve shifted slightly, so he could meet your eyes, his expression softening as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 
“Maybe,” he murmured, his voice rough and warm from exertion. “But as much as I like the sound of being a god,” he continued, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I think I’d rather just be the man who’s lucky enough to have you in his arms.”
“Just don’t pull a stunt like that on me again and I’ll be fine,” he responded, his tone a mix of lingering concern and affection. But there was still an edge to his voice.
“But it’s against my nature to ignore—” you started, trying to explain yourself, but Steve cut you off, his gaze intense.
“Do I have to impregnate you? For you to think more carefully?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a rough, teasing tone that sent a shiver down your spine. The words were provocative, laced with a mix of frustration and possessiveness that made your breath catch.
Your eyes widened slightly at his bold statement, your heart skipping a beat as the meaning of his words sank in. There was a challenge in his eyes, but also a deep-seated need—a desire to protect you, to keep you safe in a way that was so intensely Steve.
“Is that what it’s going to take?” he continued, his tone softening just a bit, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re careful out there. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I won’t.”
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your mind racing with his words and the seriousness behind them. He wasn’t just teasing; there was a part of him that meant every word. It was possessive, yes, but it was also born from a place of deep love and fear of losing you.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
Steve’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 
“Good,” he murmured against your mouth, his tone still laced with that protective tone. “Because I’m not letting you out of my sight, not if I can help it.”
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banj0possum · 1 year
Text
All You Need
Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader
CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking
i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light
IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-
♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.
♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.
♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.
♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.
♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.
♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.
♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.
♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.
♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!
♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?
♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.
♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!
♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.
♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.
♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.
♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."
♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.
♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.
♠️ "Are you the applicant?"
♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.
♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.
♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?
♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..
♠️ "So you're..?"
♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."
♠️ "Baron..."
♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-
♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...
♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.
♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.
♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.
♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."
♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.
♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!
♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.
♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.
♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!
♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."
♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."
♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.
♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.
♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.
♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."
♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."
♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!
♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.
♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.
♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."
♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"
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3K notes · View notes
dragonsfictavern · 9 months
Text
Without Much Spoken
Astarion x gn!Reader
a/n: My first attempt at posting for bg3 and Astarion. But I plan to continue posting many more fics for not only this lil guy, but for a lot of the party! So stick around!
summary: During one night of your groups travels together, Astarion enters the room to find you overwhelmed and crying. Acting before thinking it through, Astarion comforts you.
word count: 1.1k
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Walking up the stairs of the Inn their group was staying in for the next couple of days, Astarion opens the door as he normally would, heading to bed after the exhausting day that had finally, at last, ended. He was more than ready to plop into bed and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His only true escape that lasted far few hours.
But as soon as the door creaked open, a small sliver of light shining through, your sobs broke through the silence like a fierce screech. They stopped a moment after, the silence even more heavy and the tension growing thick the longer neither of you speak.
Astarion opens the door, only a bit further. Enough for the light from the hall to catch on your features. Your frozen, having fled to isolation in order to prevent this. To stop anyone from seeing you, to not bother anyone else with the weight of your intensely hyperactive feelings. Especially him. God, you didn’t want to bother him with this.
Astarion was always good for a light joke, a quick quip. He was good at that. At making things feel lighter, even unintentionally making you feel better at times. But that’s not what you wanted right now. You didn’t want to feel better in that way, you didn’t want to attempt to push aside your emotions for another, you didn’t want to just forget about what you felt. You needed to let out what was overwhelming you. What twisted your gut with anxiety, what made it hard to breathe, what sent your body into overdrive, what clouded your mind and made you feel like a complete mess.
You needed it out, and you knew Astarion wasn’t typically the one to go to with that sort of thing. You never held it against him, you cared for him, you may even love him. But you knew he had little to no experience in the ways of comforting someone. Knew he didn’t really know how to do that. So, in an action you convinced herself was selfless, you didn’t confide in him. Didn’t give him the chance to offer whatever type of comfort he possibly could provide.
And Astarion knew it all and more. With his past, he knew how to read people easily. Learning how others think was vital in his line of work, in his everyday life, in his survival… Reading you always seemed a little bit easier for him to do than it was with others. He could see what you were trying to do. The way your body stiffened on the bed, the tears both dried and fresh on your cheeks, the way your hands clenched as if you wished the ground would swallow you whole.
Astarion didn’t feel any particular way about this revelation. He could see your reasoning, your line of thinking and what brought you to the conclusions you ended up at. So he honestly couldn’t explain why he reacted the way he did.
His hand shuts the door, encompassing you both back into darkness without thought. His feet move toward you on their own. Though the darkness surrounds you both, both of your eyes end up adjusting again. You can see the way Astarion stops at the edge of the bed, his form hovering over your curled frame on the bed.
It’s without a word that he slides into bed behind you, his back resting comfortably against the headboard. His legs spread wide, giving you enough space to sit between them. His hands softly curl around you, not trying to overwhelm you even more. One hand around your stomach, feeling the erratic breaths you take as you attempts to hide your cries. The other hand over your heart, feeling its pounding rhythm, both from the mix of emotions that sent you to this state and from him finding you here. He didn’t need to do this, his hearing being able to pick it up well enough on its own. But for some reason he needed the reassurance. That it was all real.
He pulls you into his chest and you don’t hesitate to fall against him, putting your weight on him. He isn’t doing this to prove anything to you. To prove he can comfort you, if you needed him to. No, he isn’t going to make you come to him and he’s not going to make you hide. He doesn’t know why he’s done this. He just… did. Wanted to. It’s all he can grasp onto.
The feeling of him being there was enough, you realize. It had taken so much energy to try and remain still after Astarion found you, but now that he was here and he’s staying, you can’t hold it in any longer. It physically pained you beyond explanation. Sobs broke out of you, the action moving your body with its force. You couldn’t control it.
Astarion just sits there, not saying anything and not really doing anything either. But it’s more than enough. You didn’t realize how being alone had made everything so much worse. You thought that being alone, having nothing around that could possibly add to your array of emotions was what was best for you. But as you two laid together, you noticed the way Astarion didn’t add anything. The way he could actually help in ways everyone else just couldn’t seem to.
Eventually you begin to calm down, your body shaking but your emotions releasing and leaving you. That’s when you feel Astarion’s hand on the back of your head. You jump slightly, but besides that, you don’t dare acknowledge it. His hand gently starts combing through your hair. Then when he reaches the end, he brings it back to the top of your head. You sigh heavily, falling into him further. The peace of the empty silence, the darkness that covers everything, washes over you both. Neither of you seem to want to break it.
You tilt your head ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t stop. The gesture was doing wonders to help calm you down further. You can barely make out Astarion through the darkness, but you can see enough to tell he’s simply staring ahead. It’s then you realize that he probably hadn’t even noticed what he’s doing to you. How he’s actually comforting you. It sends waves of pleasure through you, working both to overwhelm you a bit more and yet also calming you. You fall back, fully resting on him once again as he, in a way, pets you. Your eyes seemingly closed on their own.
It’s only after an unknown amount of time that he murmurs in your ear, “I’m here.”
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lovingjingyuan · 3 months
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Hi!! I've been reading your first for awhile and I think you're such a great writer and I was wondering if I could request a yandere Sunday/welt/jingyuan/blade where the reader has depression and how they'd handle it? You could add anything you like :) thank you!
Thank you sm for the compliment. I'm so glad someone enjoys my works <333 Tbh I don't find my writing good cuz my English isn't so good for writing ;-; also when i writing this on google docs it was like 7 pages long.
Warning: 2.7K words, A bit affectionate in Jing Yuan and Aventurines part, manipulation, abuse of power, gaslighting, emotional abuse,
Info at bottom
Pairing: (Yandere) Sunday, Welt, Jing Yuan, Blade, Aventurine x Reader
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Sunday Sunday wouldn't be able to handle it well, but instead, he would unintentionally cause further damage to your mental state. It’s elusive getting you to cooperate with his subjectives. He couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why you aimlessly slumber like this, showing little to no affection and he deluges you with this subjective perfect life. You were in a gilded cage ornate into a display of artwork, but to Sunday you’ll always be that vulnerable bird, needing guidance and protection. He couldn’t grasp the idea of why you still yearn for freedom when he can provide you with everything you desire.
You reminded Sunday of the time when he and his sister Robin once took a weak bird under their wing. The bird is like you; too weak and vulnerable for this cruel reality. Yet, his subjective never appealed to your line of reasoning. To you, people are meant to make their own choices and yearn for the touch of freedom. But to him the weak must be helped and preserved by the strong and by that you’re weak. 
Instead of offering you normal support and seeking treatment for you he would isolate you further, making watch of your every movement and ensuring you’re always in his presence every second. 
To Sunday he couldn’t just let you go now, not after all his sacrifices and efforts to hold you captive in his presence. He started to lie and twisted his thoughts into believing that this is the only path to achieve mutual happiness and to ensure your safety. Yet, it further broke him even though you refuse to make and remain apathetic with him. Your constant depression and lack of motivation left him feeling adrift. You rarely are able to take care of yourself anymore leaving him completely lost.
All he can hope is for you to develop Stockholm syndrome. He prays that your depression and lack of happiness will lead you to believe he’s the only one who can mend the wounds on your heart, filling any empty void. 
“Please stop lying on the bed. You’ve been there all day. You know that’s far from healthy and will only worsen your state,” he silently pleaded with you hoping by any miracle you would follow through. This constant isolation he put you through has been driving both you and him mad. But in the end, you lost all light in you. No longer able to plead with him any further for salvation.  
You can just simply close your eyes falling further back into nihility. 
“Please, my dear, you can't keep doing this to me… to yourself-”
‘I’m fine, ' you snapped. How his heart ached at your indifference.
“No, you’re not okay. Your behavior is absolutely absurd!” he remained unfalter on the edge of the bed next to you. Sunday’s mind ran blink on ways to save you from deluging any further in depression. He could release you, but he’s scared the moment he does. You would leave him forever like the bird he and his sister raised.
He leaned in, brushing your hair aside to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. He will continue to keep you here with him indefinitely, trying to keep his own sanity intact as well as yours. He only remains resolute to keep you here with him, refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge his wrongdoings.
“It’s not a sin. I’m doing this for the greater good.”
I believe Yandere Sunday is just manipulative in wanting to keep you, he’s no sadist but I also believe he cares a whole lot about his public image which is now RUINED! Sunday would be a good lover if you comply or not obsessed over you. Sunday would be the type to say, "Oh my days." :)
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Welt During his lifetime Welt had witnessed a lot and many tragedies. Despite his knowledge and understanding of the consequences of his actions, he couldn’t suppress his urges when it came to you. Welt always made sure to keep a watchful eye over you, safeguarding you from any troubles. He would usually spend a lot of his time watching over you and observing any anomalous behavior from you. 
One sudden day he started noticing you developing odd behaviors and your daily schedule becoming a trouble. You also started to develop a habit of dissociating away from your peers, he was no exception. This unusual behavior disturbs him because it meant he can’t keep a close eye on you. 
Now I feel how he’ll handle this can go two ways: He seeks immediate professional help for you OR tries to handle this situation himself. The reason why Welt would try to handle this situation himself is to prevent you from becoming self-aware. To Welt, becoming self-aware poses a challenge to him as you’re more aware and knowledgeable of your surroundings and who is around you. He would do everything in his power to leave you clueless and thoughtless towards your surroundings so you don’t become aware of any manipulation he inflicted on you in the past.
Manipulation such as convincing you to stay with the Astral Express by his side 24/7. Welt truly cares about you and needs to see you heal. To him you’re the light in the room full of darkness in his heart. Every time you smile, laugh even when you’re clumsy or mess up he can’t help but smile, feeling relaxed near your presence. Even if you're not the brightest person you still light and warm up his heart. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, raising a brow as the bottom of his cane taps the floor behind you. Deep down he knows the answer and urges you to tell him the truth, finding comfort in his presence like he does in yours. 
“I’m alright,” you intensity waiver him away.
Unfazed by your response, he persisted, “You really don’t need to pretend, around me.”
If you do manage to admit and confess your feelings he would categorize it as depression. Welt will immediately try and cheer you up, letting March, Dang Heng and Stelle; his trusted companions around you. He will try every day to lift your spirits even letting you choose where to go for the next trailblazing expeditions. 
Welt attempts to educate himself more on the topic of depression, so he can create a safe environment for you. Although he might not exactly provide professional help he will solve it ethically.
Lol I can't see Welt keeping you captive. He would probably pressure you or convince you to join the Astral Express so he can keep a close eye on you. He's very careful when being possessive over you. Himeko and Dan Heng can catch on quickly so he would try to make you fall in love with him.
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Jing Yuan Jing Yuan, a high achieving General, a man who no one can hate personally, aged over 600 years and has experience of yearning over the dead and betrayals. As he watched you drift into the endless abyss of sadness he could not help but share in your sorrow. All he truly wanted for you was your happiness and safety, including your undying love and attention. 
Yet this draining illness simply wouldn’t allow that for you. Jing Yuan is a man who is willing to go to extreme lengths in pursuit of your happiness which only he should be the one serving. Yet under one condition, he’s willing to do things that go against your happiness just so he can satisfy his impulsive desires. 
“I love you so so much. Please don’t be sad,” he murmured softly into your eyes, biting down gently on the top of your ears, which sent shivers down your body in a sensual way. He twirls the end of your hair with his fingers holding you against his embrace.
You continue to stare out into the distance, while his fingers play with the ends of your hair.
“If there’s anything you must need…. Please,” he implored in your ears from behind. The warm breath on your neck, “Tell me. I care about you and you know that.” his arms wrap around your waist telling you you’re all for him alone, all while he nuzzles his head against your shoulders. His white fluffy strands of hair tickle up against your cheekbone. 
If you ever found yourself in his custody and requested freedom, he would by all means exploit rapid, white little lies. 
"Recently, there have been reports of numerous mara-struck soldiers on the loose. 36 tragedies have resulted from these mara strikes," he warns, emphasizing the fake danger outside. "Luofu might need to go into lockdown, so it's safest for you to stay here with me."
He soon begins to take into account your condition growing rapidly worse. Your depression started to overtake your everyday life. That’s when he knew this was severe. Although sometimes delusional, he does take into account his mistakes. 
“I arranged us a date, a vacation even! It’s been many years since I left Luofu for anything other than urgent matters.”
You smiled and nodded profusely in agreement. This smile and small action deluges his heart with warm sweet love <3 How his heart jumps and flutters like a butterfly because of you. If you don’t get any better he will hire and get you an appointment with the best psychologist. 
Jing Yuan just wants the best for you wholeheartedly and truly. If he does kidnap and detain you, it’s because of his impulsive actions to keep you for himself. There will be no other 4th betrayal or the 4th person to pay the price. 
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Blade Blade’s cold demeanor and sharp eyes were enough to sway anyone away; he never believed himself capable of love or being a good partner in general. Some people in this cosmos were simply not cut out to be in a relationship, or so he believed since his journey began with the thought of death lingering in his mind. 
Yingxing would have been a more suitable man in a relationship, but Blade? He doubts on the idea of love and interest. Yet, when he laid eyes on you he couldn’t ignore the strange stinging of an electric sensation in his heart. He wanted to delve deeper into this unusual sensation he was feeling. Although he knew he could never truly reveal himself.
Who wouldn’t recognize a man whose bounty is worth 8.13 billion credits? At least he has a good credit score unlike me (╥﹏╥) Blade slowly started by stalking you, falling deeper into the spiral of love and obsession. He knew with his records you could never reciprocate his feelings.
He restored to drastic measures, keeping you in his custody. It’s difficult to say he’ll treat you top-notch. Being under his care seemed more like a physiological experiment. Providing you with basic needs while expecting obedience, as if conducting an experiment. 
Blade never once will lay a hand on you, raise his voice at you, only expressing annoyance through small grunts and groans. However, the isolation drove you quickly to the brink of insanity. Every day, waking up to a meal, lack of interaction; he would simply stare down at you as you chew on the food he provided. You even lack social interaction with your kidnapper. The daily routine went on, like a trap in an asylum. 
His cold gaze lingered on you, studying your every move, all while silently making mental notes of your behavior. If you did fall into depression he wouldn’t recognize it immediately, attributing it to your natural state or how you express disappointment.
Every tear shed or harsh remark towards him is met with silent observation, perceiving it as a natural reaction. Only when severe signs startsd occurring; refusing to eat or neglecting basic hygiene, did Blade acknowledge something was amiss.
He attempts to coax you with better-tasting meals, even dessert. If you die from starvation how else will he get the same sensation he feels when around you? This strange sensation in his heart is much more desirable than death.
“Eat it, you mustn’t starve yourself,” he says nonchalantly, placing a bowl of Mapo Tofu and a small portion of rice before you.
“Just leave me alone.”
“Eat it.”
“No.”
Blade shot you a deadly glare, his intimidation palpable, urging you to reluctantly pick up the chopstick. Blade’s method or strange way of love worsens your condition. I think with Blade you probably wouldn’t relieve yourself from the chains of depression. Yet I also do believe Blade will try to understand your mental state yet fail.
If Blade were to love; he would start by, placing a hand on your shoulders and gently massaging your shoulder blade as you ate. The thought of Blade saying “I love You,” seems inconceivable, but he’d probably say it underneath his breath.
“Do now dwell in longingness for too long,” he muttered against your ears, perhaps the most motivational phrase he said to you since the decline in your mental state began. Although he won’t admit upfront he loves and feels affection toward you, his demeanor is more relaxed around you and his sharp intense eyes soften at your presence. 
How to help a depressed person 101: The reader is Blade trying to figure out what’s causing you this and how to help you. 
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Aventurine From the moment Aventurine first laid eyes on you, he knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life. He had always felt most alive when gambling at high stakes, but being near you brought a sensation even more profound; a mix of obsession and love washed over him. 
When you begin to struggle with depression, Aventurine tries everything to lift up your spirits by lavishing you with extravagant gifts, hoping they would bring you happiness. Yet the joy was only ephemeral and wasn’t what he truly desired. What he craved was not only your happiness but also your love and affection.
He couldn’t bring it into words but, your presence was like an addictive drug he constantly craved for. His dopamine goes crazy near you, almost exploding his brain. There was something about you that he yearned to possess and preserve for himself.
“Sweetheart, I brought you this exclusive necklace,” he announced from behind, presenting the box to you.
Your face lights up only momentarily at each lavish gift presented to you, but as gifts keep coming, their extravagance holds little value. Aventurine could only find himself lost. What could he do now since he can’t seem to please you any further with his riches?
To him, his identity revolves around his wealth and luck, without the appeal towards money, he feared that he held no more value in your life. He wished you found solace in him as he did towards you.
“Is something the matter?” he asked anxiously, feeling you slip away further despite all his efforts. You’re his safe haven but he can’t fathom why he’s not your after all of his efforts. 
“I’m fine,” a transparent white lie escapes your lips.
“That’s a blatant lie,” he frowned, wrapping his right arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him while on the bed. “Please, tell me the truth. I’ll buy you anything you want,” he continues coaxing you with the power of money.
“I’m okay,” you continue to refuse despite his effort.
Aventurine hesitates to pressure you any further, fearing that you’ll start to withdraw from him completely. He would insist, forcing you into therapy, though each session came with a price because nothing in this universe is free.
With Aventurine’s dirty money he coaxes the therapist to make every session involve him in some way while actually helping you. With the power of money, the therapist starts to manipulate you into seeking comfort, and attention from Aventurine. Every session ended with something about Aventurine, so he can linger in your thoughts.
Slowly, you began to heal, finding yourself drawn to Aventurine's presence. He welcomed this, craving pleasure since he- himself is constantly drawn to you every second.
"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his arm draped around you as you both lounged on plush casino's cushion.
"Better," you replied softly.
He smiled at your response, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. Finally, he was becoming your safe place, just as he had always hoped.
His hand gently massaged your back, drawing you closer until your lips were almost touching.
"Is that so?" he grinned, closing the gap with a tender kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As he pulled back, staring at your bashfulness, he brushed your hair behind your ear and whispered, "If I win this, I'll buy you everything you desire."
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P.S: I'm going to sleep after this but idk much about Welt despite playing hi3 since near release date. I also like keep character in character but Yandere or any NSFW +18 works are probably gonna be ooc.
Sorry this took so long I'm Trying to get my life back together :(
Mental Health
I take mental health seriously since I’m studying to become an expert in the medical field for mental health! If you’re ever in need of help please ask a trusted adult or seek help right away before it becomes worse! Just know mental health doesn’t make you a bad person but rather you’re suffering and depression is also an illness. Everyone is allowed treatment no matter what.
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kakushino · 4 months
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hello can i get a giyuu x reader angst , like where giyuu had an argument with the reader , but it turns out the reader is pregnant? you can add any other plot twist cus i love plot twists thank you !<3
Almost
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Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader
He had lost a lot of people in his life by his own making. He refused to lose you too.
Tags: pregnancy, arguments, blood mention, abortion mention (no actual abortion), hurt/comfort Word count: 2k
Masterlist
AN: Hope you enjoy it! I actually had a WIP of an argument + making up before, so I got to revisit it and add the pregnancy spice you asked for hehe~ Huge thanks to my dearest beta reader @glitchtricks94 for helping me clear it up (o゜▽゜)o☆ another huge thanks to @starrierknight for brainstorming with me
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Giyuu’s injuries weren’t worse than normal, but that didn’t stop you from fretting over him – especially when he had a gash on his cheek, the same cheek you kissed a week ago when he was leaving for his mission. It made your chest feel tight to see his pretty face marred by demons. Your grandmother was surely rolling in her grave that such a classical beauty was hurt, the thought spurred you on to care for him.
No detail went unnoticed under your eye. He seemed tired, as usual, and a little stressed, as usual too - just a regular morning after slaying demons.
You sat him down at a western style dining table with a medical kit and supplies to clean the cuts with next to you. Your hands shook slightly when the damp cloth wiped away grime and blood, your lips pressed together when a fresh drop of blood oozed from the wound.
“You need to be more careful,” you murmured as you worked, the statement automatic, thoughtless.
Giyuu’s whole body stiffened. “Or what?”
You froze in place, your hand dipping the cloth in warm water. This was a new tone of his – a new way words could cut you if he wanted you to hurt: it was rough, serrated, mean. “What?”
He rolled his shoulders back a little, rearing for a fight. “You heard me the first time.”
You clenched your hand, leaving the rag in the water, and turned to fully face him. “Why are you so defensive? I meant no harm,” you replied, trying to calm the storm before it fully set in.
He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair he had sat in over. The look he shot you sent your heart galloping in your chest, from fear or indignation, you didn’t know. “You’ve done enough. Leave me be.”
Did he like you like this? Was the hurt in your eyes enough? That was – did he like the way it glinted, the way it caught the light? Hours upon hours spent on making your suffering pretty, and perhaps now it would pay off. He could cut you down into something pretty if he wanted to, and maybe you would let him.
Before he could walk away, before he could twist the rusty blade, you rose from your seat, “I have done nothing to warrant this tone with me, Tomioka Giyuu. Now tell me-“
"Stop bothering me," he cut you off, heading towards the door.
A violent whirlpool of emotion threatened to drown you, and for once, you let go. “You- you oaf! I can’t stand you being like this! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect,” he snapped, voice like a viper and words just as stinging. “Or at least it would be if I didn’t have you nagging me every time. I’ve been through this enough to know what to do with myself. Unlike you who sits here all pretty and safe and fat, ready to wrap a bandage and call it a day.”
You flinched, for the first time in your husband’s presence, tears springing from your eyes, which you rapidly blinked away. What have I ever done to deserve this? You had waited on your hands and knees for this man every time he’d come home battered and bruised and broken and put him back together, without complaining, with love. This was what you got in return for your devotion? Pretty and useless. That’s what he basically called you.
Your throat tightened. You hardly had the energy to respond so you turned away and just… left. You couldn’t continue listening to Giyuu when he sounded so much like… like Shinazugawa. Whatever was bothering him best be left alone to cool off before you could talk about it.
You nodded to yourself as you packed an overnight bag. Some time apart would be good for you both. You knew he wouldn’t be sent out on a mission for a few days again, since he just returned from a longer stint, so you would come back tomorrow and try to resolve it then.
It was time for a check-up with a midwife anyway.
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He had really said all that.
And you left.
Your eyes filled with tears, and you left, as you should. He had treated you like garbage.
There was no going back, no taking back his idiocy, no swallowing back his words.
‘Let's stop fighting’ was at the tip of his tongue. ‘Come here and let me hug you’ nearly spilled from his lips. ‘I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry’ choked him up as you walked away.
He knew you were right. You did nothing wrong.
He felt nothing.
He was worth nothing.
Giyuu picked up the shards of his heart up and finished cleaning up his wounds. A short bath later, he walked into the kitchen to find food already made for him, now long gone cold. It just reminded him how much he butchered his relationship by what – stress and tiredness? A demon taunting him right before its death? If so little shook him up, did he even deserve to be with you?
A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of leaving you. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, hurting you and putting you in danger for being a Hashira’s partner yet wanting you to remain by his side.
After eating his portion, he made tea and waited to see if you would join him. There was no movement in the house at all; were you in your shared bedroom, laying in bed as you were used to when upset? He would give you time to cool off, give himself time to breathe, and then he would approach you with a clearer head. He needed to apologize.
One hour. Two hours.
Had he angered you so much that you wouldn’t come out? Your spats had never lasted this long.
The tea had long grown cold, but Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to make more. There were no sounds coming from the house.
Were you even here?
The thought jolted him from his seat, quickly walking to your shared bedroom.
“Love?”
Nothing.
“I’m coming in.”
He somehow expected it, though he’d hoped against it. You weren’t there.
Already turning to check all other rooms, he called out your name. His pace was brisk, his throat starting to clog up with a familiar emotion. Claws of anxiety sunk into his stomach, his heart beat like a drum, his lungs struggled to take in air. You weren’t there.
Where were you?
He ran through the whole estate and back two times but came up with no clue as to where you were. Panic mounted, crawling up his spine like a spider he couldn’t shake away.
Giyuu slammed the gate of his home open, very nearly running into his elderly neighbour.
She was hardly phased, though confused by his frazzled visage. “Tomioka-san? What’s got you in such a hurry, young boy?”
“Have you seen my wife?!” he’d never been as rude as he was now, but you were gone so what was he supposed to do?
“Your wife? Oh, that’s right, I saw her. If I recall, she was on her visit… hmm, who was she going to visit?” his neighbour mused. Giyuu waited with all the patience Urokodaki beat into him, that was – quite impatiently. “Oh right! A midwife! I was very surprised when-“
He stopped listening, or rather, he stopped hearing anything going on around him. A midwife? A midwife was a profession with a very specific set of skills for a very specific group of people… Did that mean-?
“Isotani-san,” Giyuu interrupted, breathless, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you saying my wife is pregnant?”
She squinted at him, “You didn’t know?”
It felt as if lightning came from clear skies and struck him. Every nerve itched with some kind of energy telling him to move.
He later vaguely remembered asking his neighbour for the direction you left in, but at the time, he saw nothing, and felt everything all at once.
Were you going to… terminate it? Were you going to tell the midwife, and would she terminate it? Was the midwife going to terminate it and help you move on? Would you move on without him?
Thoughts racing, heart galloping, Giyuu felt feverish. He stumbled back, deaf to his neighbour’s concerned questions as he turned the way you had left just hours ago. One foot in front of the other, a step by step, getting faster with each meter he passed until he was running nearly as fast as Uzui, desperation spurring him on.
Kanzaburo flew overhead, and when he cleared the village bounds, he called out to get the crow to lead him to you.
Time was of the essence. He may have botched his life, but he was too selfish to let go of you. He wanted, no- needed to get you back. You were his love, his soul, his home. He wouldn’t be able to go on if you left.
He felt crazed, desperate, as he ran.
Giyuu would have been faster had he not have to follow Kanzaburo but he wouldn’t be able to find you alone. He felt as if he was racing against the time. Any minute now, you would be in a the midwife’s home, waiting for the release from his clutches; any second now, you would sever the only tactile link you had to him – your baby.
His baby.
He swore, his mind supplementing him with your argument. It had been all his fault, he’d just lashed out because of nothing, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How childish he’d been – and he was supposed to be a father? No, he wanted to be a father. He’d fix himself and he’d support you and he’d even carry you your whole pregnancy, so you didn’t have to walk. He’d learn to cook more than the basics to feed you and your baby.
Please, let me be in time.
Then he saw you.
The whole world seemingly froze, grey and empty save for you.
You were a pearl amongst rocks, still as beautiful as the first day he saw you, as beautiful as you were on your wedding day.
Giyuu didn’t stop, even as you turned to him in surprise when he called your name. He didn’t stop until he had you in a soul-crushing hug, tight and near bruising – one he immediately eased up on, since he didn’t want to hurt you.
“Calm down, Giyuu! What’s going on?”
“D-don’t-“ he stumbled over his words, still frantic and breathing heavily, “don’t get rid of it!”
You were confused, “Get rid of what?”
His hands were heavy clutching onto your clothes, his frame nearly hanging onto you. “Our – our child,” he gasped out. “Isotani-san told me you were- she told me you were pregnant.” His words came out in a rush, eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils darted all over your face for a sign of – of anything, be it forgiveness, anger, sadness, anything.
Looking at him in such a state, near quivering in his spot, you felt powerful. Giyuu was at your mercy for once. You could topple him as easily as a sandcastle, crush him under your boot and grind down to juice him of all that made him who he was. It made you realize you held just as much power over him as he did over you. Oddly, you felt reassured - of his love, of your love, of the relationship. 
Heart hammering in your chest, cheeks filling with warmth, the adoration you carried in your heart spilled over and pooled in your stomach. You hungered for more of this power, positively starved to sink your teeth into him and drain him.
But that could wait.
“I am indeed pregnant,” you confirmed, your hands resting on his arms, thumbs stroking soothing lines over his muscles. You paused, letting the seconds painfully stretch out, “I’m not terminating the pregnancy.”
His whole being sagged with relief. Giyuu fell to his knees in slow motion, his hands sliding down your yukata to rest over your hips, now clutching the fabric there with a weak grip. “Thank gods…” he rasped out, his breathing stuttered as if holding back sobs. “Please, love, let’s not- I apologize – I apologize for everything. I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was wrong…”
His impossibly blue eyes met yours, the surface glistening with unshed tears, his guilt bitter but his plea tasting sweet on your tongue. Saliva gathered in your mouth, wanting more.
Did that make you a bad person?
“You dismissed my concern,” you stated, fighting back any expression wanting to take over your face. “You said I nag you. You called me useless.” And pretty, your mind supplied. He’d also called you fat, so there was that. “I didn’t deserve that.”
Giyuu’s lips were downturned, “You didn’t. I was an oaf.” His admission did nothing to soothe the ache he’d given you. “I’m willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy of my misdeeds.” He let go of your yukata, smoothing over the wrinkles he made. He didn’t know what to do with himself, trying not to fidget as you rolled his actions and words in your mind.
“There will be no punishment,” you told him. If possible, he became even more tense, the need for absolution great. Perhaps no punishment would be a punishment of itself. “But don’t think you’re entirely forgiven. I accept your apology; you however have to make up for it your own way.” You studied his earnest expression, brows slightly furrowed as he started thinking about ways to win you back. It shouldn’t be too hard. He did it once, he could do it again.
Giyuu slowly stood up, taking your hands in his. “I won’t disappoint you, love,” he said resolutely, kissing your fingertips softly. He adored you, with his whole heart, mind and body.
Everything would work out – just like the ice always melts and clouds disperse, a typhoon passes and the sea calms.
“If you pull this act again, I’m leaving.” You glared at him for a second to get your point across. Giyuu nodded and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.
He almost lost you and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
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Thanks for reading! Reblog or comment if you liked it :3
Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
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thranduel · 1 year
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some facts about astarion that i find very cute/meaningful :)
i wanted to share this so more people can learn about him and appreciate who he is deep down, behind the mask he wears. before cazador turned him, he was just like any other person; he had hobbies, passions and emotions. those things are still there, but they’re just hidden amidst all the darkness. he was so young when he first turned that he barely had a chance to enjoy life or figure himself out. so many people miss out on the complexity of his character due to only focusing on his physical appearance or labelling him as a cruel villain, but in order to see that he’s so much more than that and he’s capable of growing as a person, all you need to do is show him a bit of love!
- he loves embroidery and poetry
- he approves when you pet the owlbear cub because most people view it as a monster (the same way people have always viewed him). it’s like he finds comfort in the fact that you can love and care for something that most people are afraid of, and it gives him hope that you may feel the same way about him too
- if you put a flower on his grave, he smiles and says "cute"
- he comes up to you in camp just to thank you and tell you how grateful he is that you allowed him to make his own decision (after you defend him and don't force him to drink the drow's blood) because he is so used to being told what to do and he was forced to use his body for so many years
- in that same scene, he will hold your hand whether you choose to stay in a romance with him or be friends instead, because he loves and appreciates you no matter what, and any sort of relationship with you is so important and meaningful to him
- if you try to romance karlach and astarion at the same time, he tells you to choose karlach over him, even if he loves you and it hurts him to do so, because he can see that karlach loves you too. he says that normally an arrangement would work for him, but after everything karlach has been through and how fragile her heart is already, he doesn’t want to get in the way or see her hurt
- if you try to romance halsin and astarion at the same time, he just wants you to do what makes you happy, even though you can tell it hurts him if you choose halsin. he’s also worried that you’re unhappy because he hasn’t slept with you (he should never have to worry about that ☹️), so he doesn’t want to stop you from enjoying yourself. in this situation and the one with karlach, you can see that there are moments where he puts others before himself and thinks about their feelings more than his own
- if you’re playing as the dark urge and you’re trying to resist it, he is so incredibly comforting and tries to give you strength and encouragement. one of my favourite astarion lines is this: “you’re not alone in this, none of us are.”
some more lines that i love:
“i don’t hate you. because this is not you. but whatever it is, you’ll get through it. and i’ll be here to make sure you do.”
“whatever it is that’s controlling you, we can fight it. i know that better than anyone.”
“this thing won’t have you. it won’t win.”
“easy now, darling. you’ve got this. and i’ve got you.”
- when you try to break up with him because you’re transforming into a mindflayer and you tell him you’re becoming something horrible, he gets so upset that you would even think that way and tells you that you’re wonderful and he doesn’t care about what you look like. then he says he would get more stares walking down a street than you to try and make you feel better
- if you love and care for him and remind him that there is still good out there, he genuinely wants to grow, be a better person and break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago
- he approves when you help people that are considered outcasts or "freaks" because he has felt that way too
- he risked his life and got punished for letting a man go instead of luring him back to cazador because it’s implied he cared about him in some way and he couldn't hurt him (not entirely sure about this one, this is just how i interpreted it based on his voice and mannerisms when he was talking about him)
- he approves when you give an orphaned child food (act 3)
- he becomes vulnerable, honest and more gentle with you once you start treating him like a person, because for the first time in his life, he actually feels safe with someone
- he's extremely insecure despite the mask he wears at the beginning of the game and he doesn't believe he is capable of being genuinely loved for who he is as a person. when you get close to him and tell him you care for him and give him a hug, he is taken aback at first, but then he believes you and hugs you back. also, when you're playing as the dark urge, you get this line: "you like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that." this is proof that astarion is so used to being reduced to his physical appearance after what he was forced to do for so many years, and he thinks that's the only reason why people like him. he struggles with intimacy and forming strong emotional bonds, so that's why it makes your relationship with him even more meaningful when he realises that you truly do love him for who he is, not just for his looks and body
- when the drow you met at moonrise shows up in act 3 and tries to make you drink something, astarion tells you to say no, because the only thing she's offering is pain and he doesn't want to see you hurt
- if you romance him, stop him from doing the ritual and help him defeat cazador, he tells you that you are the only person he's ever truly cared for
- if you defeat cazador without him and tell him you just wanted to protect him, he gets upset at first because you left him behind without telling him and he wanted to take revenge himself, but then he becomes understanding and says “maybe this is what’s best? the kind of power that ritual offered could ruin a person. even me.” this shows how much he’s grown and matured as a person and he’s aware of the consequences of too much power. the scene also ends with him telling you that he’s grateful for something that you did to help him (again).
- he becomes more self-aware, straightforward and honest over time and he doesn’t pretend like he’s perfect. he tells you that you were by his side through all the bloodlust and pain and misery, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. you remained patient with him and trusted him even though it was an objectively stupid thing to do, but he is so grateful for it because you believed he could become a better person (and he did)
- this is sad but he remembers some of the names of the people he had to lure back to cazador and even the memories he shared with them. you can see this during the scene with sebastian, and it’s clear that he actually cared about him (not sure how many situations were like this, but there was definitely more than one)
- if you say “i’m sorry we couldn’t save the other vampire spawn”, he says:
“we could have tried. we could have given them the same chance i had. i was able to go out into the world and make better choices. to go against my nature and become more than a blood-sucking monster. maybe they would have done the same. or maybe not - but did we have the right to take that choice away from them?”
this scene shows how much astarion has grown and how compassionate and empathetic he can be towards others. he understood what it felt like to have his own freedom taken away while cazador made all his decisions for him, so he didn’t want to put the other vampire spawn through that too (especially because he still feels so guilty for luring them there in the first place)
- if you romance him and he stays as a vampire spawn and you choose to help him look for a cure so he can stand in the sun again, this is revealed during the epilogue scene:
“one night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”
he’s finally truly happy and free, and the short time he’s spent with you is already so incredibly powerful and important to him. being with you has positively impacted his life in such a massive way that it makes all those centuries of pain and misery feel so much smaller
- another sweet line from astarion during the epilogue scene after he tells you to go catch up with your other friends and see how they’re doing:
“i’ll be here when you’re ready. i’ll always be here, my love.”
THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND GROWTH 😭🫶🏼 he’s become so kind, loving, respectful, genuine and sincere. i’m so proud of him 🥹
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hellisharchive · 7 months
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Heyoooo! You probably know me from messaging you but I wanted to ask if you could write a Vox x Fem!reader where reader just takes care of a really wasted but infatuated Vox?
☆ my queen
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▏C/TW! ▬ 18+, drunk Vox, jealous reader, fluff fluff fluff, bathing
▏C/TW! ▬ Literally wrote this at 2 am and got done at 3 am, so not beta read <3 TYSM for the request! I hope you enjoy it!. AGAIN HOW THE FUCK DID I ACCIDENTLY POST THIS THIS WAS A DRAFT. I dont like how this turned out tbh
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You and Vox were close, but you wouldn't dare say that you two were dating. You did have a small crush on him and was scared that confessing would ruin your fiendship. Little did you know he also had a crush on you as well, it was just unfortunate he was letting his business and brand take importance over his personal life. You were an honorary Vee and his best friend. Sure, Velvette and Valentino were his friends too, but you always got jealous as you watched Val and Vox act in such a romantic way with each other all the time. You always suspected that they were a thing, and even if they didn't have a label, you respected it. So, you always kept your feelings hidden deep down
. But you did need a break, it got so tiring having to watch and hear them act all cute and making sexual advances from the time to time. You've been ignoring Vox for at least two weeks, probably not the best choice but your emotions got the better of you. But tonight, you decided to get out of the tower and have some fun. You went to a pretty well known nightclub- not owned by Vox, a rare occurrence- to let off some steam. Your goal was to get laid by the end of the night with a convenientially attractive stranger, but life doesn't always work out as you want.
Yet, when Vel called you as you were about to get on the dancefloor with a hot bull, you dropped everything to take care of the television that was drowning his sorrows in alcohol. According to her, he kept talking about how he wished he could tell you something and how beautiful you were. You mulled over it as you walked back through the tower in your fancy nightclub dress just an hour earlier. While on your way there, you came across Velvette who looked very pissed off and scrolling through phone in the main living area of the personal living quarters. When she saw you, she flipped you off and rolled your eyes.
"Fucking finally! Vox has been throwing a hissy fit waiting for his queen to come and shut him up. Fuck you for taking so long, he's called me twenty fucking times asking where you were bevause he forgot he changed your contact info!" That was all she said before growling and walking away, signalling that you were going to handle this yourself like normal. You never let what Vel says get to you, that's just how she normally is. But he changed your contact info? What to? You've calmed down a drunken Vox many times before, but this time seemed bad.
"Vox?" You knock and call out before opening his door to find a very wasted man laying on his couch, hiccuping and looking incredibly sad. He was slumped over with a wine bottle in his hand, no wine glass, and the red liquid was spilled all over himself. Wine? Really? He got drunk on wine out of his entire collection? He's usually a fun drunk, cracking jokes and overall being the most funny in the room from the out of pocket shit he says. So seeing him so down makes you feel guilty for ignoring him. But as soon as he looked at you, his face lit up and a smile immediately popped up. He dropped the glass and stood up, trying to rush up to you. However, because he was so inebriated, he started to stumble, which caused you to rush up and catch him from his shoulders.
"My Queen! Where did you go? I missed you my sweet!" The comment about Vel calling you his "queen" you just passed off as Vel being Vel, but now he was calling that you too? Maybe playing into this fantasy would be best, drunk people are never rational and don't know what they're even saying.
"Well my king, I had a very important meeting with another kingdom to attend to. But you requested my presence immediately!" You spoke matter-of-fact as you navigated him to the bathroom, it was hard already with him being unable to properly walk, but he also kept staring at you, so he stepped over his own feet countless times.
"Hehehe...I like when you call me that. YOUR king. I'm your king! How lucky am I?" He giggled and that made your heart beat faster. How lucky was he? What was he talking about? Maybe this was just his drunk self talking, you knew he didn't feel that way, he absolutely had a thing for Val, not you. Gulping, you finally manage to drag him to the bathroom where you sat him on the toilet. He would be so sticky with all that wine that soaked through his clothes, so you were going to bathe him. Sure, getting him in and out his going to be a challenge, but you still cared for this man a lot and wanted the best for him.
"I'm getting you your pjs, do not move ok?" You started to leave the bathroom when he whined loudly, making a swipe for your wrist but missed as he looked at you with puppy eyes. Due to his television screen head, his facial expressions can get extremely animated, unlike normal sinners. His eyes basically took up his entire screen, only leaving a little bit of space for a pout. The sight made your heart ache.
"Don't leave again my lovely queen! I need to tell you something!" Sighing, you gave him a soft smile and walked back up to him. Picking up his hand, you put your other hand on top of his and gave him the most softest smile you muster..
"It is bedtime, my king, you must be bathed before heading to our bed. You can tell me once we retire" Our bed. Saying it made your heart do flips.
"Oookkk my beautiful queen! Hehehe you're so pretty..." He had a dopey smile as you walked away, heart hammering so loud it should have been echoing in the room. He thought you were pretty? Fuck- why does he made you feel this way? You knew that look too, it was a look of complete love. He certainly couldn't love you though, that has to be impossible. He was with Val, he had to be. Going on autopilot, you gather up his favorite pyjamas and mentally prepare yourself for going back into the flames. When you get back, he was still sitting on the toilet, giggling and staring ahead as he was talking to himself about how in love with him he was.
What?
He was drunk, he was drunk, he was drunk- why couldn't you even entertain the idea of him returning your feelings? Why was it so hard to accept that fact? Taking a deep breath, you walk into the room and he lights up again.
"My queen! Are thou ready to bathe me? You got my favorite pjs! And you have an amazing ass! There's a reason why I married you!" Freezing once again, you ignoring his comment about your ass in luei of the last thing he said. Married...you? Did Vox think you two married each other? The thought made you shiver and face warm with how amazing that sounded. Being officially tied to him forever, waking up with him together, and getting to love him forever. Standing up after finishing setting the dials to the right temperature, you looked at him and now needed to know more.
"And why else did you marry me my dear?" Battting your eyelashes with the most innocent face you could gather, you started to stip him of his clothes. You've seen him naked a handful of times which always made you incredibly flustered, but undressing him? It made you nervous, especially with how he's acting towards you.
"You're the beeeeest, like, THE best! You're so pretty and gorgeous and have SUCH a hot bod! But you're so so sweet and amazing and help me with everything!" Did he...did he actually love you? Was whatever he was doing with Val was nothing? Shakily manging to get him completely undressed, you stood him up to maneuver him into the large tub. Not trusting yourself to say anything more, you gently lay him down in the perfectly warm water and start lathering him up. You also never bathed him before, so your nerves were going to overdrive. He took your silence and silenced himself too, maybe he somehow knew you were really anxious right now. Taking great care in not getting water on his head, you see as his face turned from a happy one, to a somber one.
The rest of the process of getting him out, drying him off, changing into his pjs, and moving him to his bed was deadly quiet. You felt like you would be breaking some unsaid rule. Tucking him into bed, you left a glass of water and painkillers on his nightstand, turning off the big light and turning on the lamp. Sitting down next to his curled up body, you rubbed his back and felt conflicted. He's drunk as balls. He probably won't remember any of this. Getting up and saying goodnight, he yells for you one last time.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong but I'm sorry. Is it Val? We aren't anything serious. I was too scared to tell you because you're so beautiful and I didn't want you to leave me. I love you" Vox looked down at his lap with a sullen expression. Heart hurting for the countless time today, you gave him a kiss on his screen and turned away with a smile
"Tell me when you're sober"
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cryslut · 10 months
Text
Yan BSD Men - Lengths
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「 Fyodor ~ Chuuya ~ Dazai ~ Tetchou ~ Jouno ~ Nikolai 」
- in which the bsd men cast go to certain lengths to be with you
- gender neutral reader
- content warning: yandere themes, mentions of: manipulation, torture, murder, mental, emotional n physical abuse, etc
(some of this may potentially be out of character)
not proofread so possibly grammatical errors.
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↳ Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor is one of those men who just love to play around with what is his. When he sees what he wants, it will be his. And that goes for you. Since he's very calm in any situation he ends up in. He happens to remain his composure completely around you. You belong to him. You just don't know it yet.
The things he does just to get you to be his is almost anything. He doesn't show his emotions all while doing so either to throw you off if you ever noticed or took hint what was going on.
He found his way to manipulate you into joining alongside him in the 'Rats in the House of the Dead'. That way he'd be closer to you than he was before, which mostly consisted of him stalking you from time to time. He had to keep an eye on what was his after all, right?
He eventually took action into his own hands, he wanted to get close to you as much as he could. He just had to draw you in. So the best way to do that, was for him to drag you around wherever he went doing whatever he was doing. Almost like it was your newest job and it had to be done and fulfilled by you, being his newest partner.
You of course obeyed his every word, cause he was your boss after all, and you had to obey him. Plus the chance of a lifetime was being able to work alongside him as a partner. At least that's what everyone thought and what everyone strongly truly believed. You however didn't have a full opinion.
But Fyodor knew this and he would soon make you believe the same. Pulling you in more and more. Wrapping you around his finger until eventually you really fell for him.
But in the meantime, he's just going to have to stick to what he's been doing for a while. Keeping you around as much as he can. Making sure you're safe. And best of all make sure that he can make you his, he wouldn't stop until he achieved this after all.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Chuuya Nakahara
Chuuya has lost a lot, and knowing this fact he was solely convinced of the fact that he would lose you too. So this made him very crazy when it came to you. He would find any way to make sure you were around him at all costs.
After joining the Port Mafia, he grew a strong interest in you and eventually you two were paired up for an assignment so this gave him a window of opportunity to get closer to you than he was before. On said assignment, he made sure you were okay at all times but all the while trying not to completely show it because he didn't wanna seem like he cared too much.
Chuuya overtime had such an unhealthy obsession with you it drove him insane. Seeing people trying to get near you really drove him towards the edge — making him want to kill said people. If someone hurt you or attempted to, they would get their ass handed to them. He'd always be there for you for certain things.
He'd try not to show it but eventually it would through his actions when those that get in the way that were a threat would disappear without nearly any trace. And those who tried to do anything bad to you, he'd either blackmail or just kick them to the curb. He's super overprotective overall.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Dazai Osamu
Dazai like his usual normal self is very flirty with you — and seems just overall sweet like his usual self. After you joined the Armed Detective Agency, getting to work with the brunette haired man, it came abundantly clear to himself that he was really fond of you. He was starting to have deep strong feelings for you that grew into an unhealthy obsession.
This led him to doing things just for you. He'd of course keep you safe, he'd find whatever ways he could to protect you. He's a confident man so his confidence really hid the fact well — that he was doing everything in his power to keep you for himself. His protection turned into manipulation. Then his manipulation turned into a violent need to hurt those who you always got into fights with you.
He's able to persuade you in any way and you fall for it everytime. You fall for his tricks, his lies, his manipulative behavior, everything he does though is for you, right? His need for you is his reason for his need for blood shed and doing things you would never imagine him doing. But again, it's all for you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Tetchou Suehiro
Tetchou is a little different than the others, he doesn't seem like he'd be into anyone but he grows quite the thing for you. After you ended up becoming apart of the hunting dogs, he admired you for your hard work and dedication towards the cause. He also admired you for your strength and your abilities.
But overtime this normal admiration turned into him being in love with you, obsessed with you. This man is more of a strong need for justice type so he doesn't use murder to get with you. He doesn't use lame tactics like manipulation either.
His admiration went from obsession which meant he would be very overprotective over you, making you feel safe with him more and more — in case there was never a fight you couldn't handle, he'd be there to protect you. He'd be there to help you through it. He tends to get himself closer to you by spending more time with you, alone time to be precise. He'd take you out on little friendly dates for brunch or something of the like. These dates were more than friendly for him — as for you, you weren't aware.
He'd make you help him train which in return he'd help you train. Making you stronger so he'd make sure if there was ever a moment you needed to be safe — your strength alone would be enough. In case he wasn't there to protect you, to help you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Jouno Saigiku
This man looks so sweet but on the inside he can be quite sadistic in nature, enjoying the thought of messing with his victims in the worst way. This is usually the case with criminals — but when he met you, this quickly changed. He didn't really care who it would be, he would hurt whoever just about got in his way of you two being together.
After you joined the hunting dogs, you got close with some of the members and he was fine for a while until eventually an obsession grew for you. His undying love sunk in and he became the worst.
And if you did something he did not like that would upset him, he'd keep his normal composed attitude in the light — his very dark hint of his personality however was there, you just didn't see it. If you don't do what he wants he will threaten it out of you. He will find any thing he can use to his advantage to get you to be willing to do as he demands.
It could be threats to your loved ones, to you, to your friends, to anyone you deem close to you. He will threaten and blackmail you to his hearts content if it gets you to listen.
His other methods would also include hurting you. Torturing you in any way he could. Whether that be mentally or emotionally or just physically if it ever got to that point. He'd mostly mess with your head. Psychological torture was best fitting because he wouldn't want to hurt his beloved, now would he? He'd be so upset if he ever had to lay a hand on you but he always tried his best not to.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
↳ Nikolai Gogol
This man is so cheerful at times and it throws you off a lot. He always has to question you alot and annoy you with his usual quizzes. He was like this towards you when you first met him. After meeting Fyodor and becoming a member of the Decay of Angels — he found you quite the interesting one.
That little small interest eventually grew into him having strong deep feelings for you, and he realized this too. Overtime his quizzes got more frequent, his happiness got more loud and obnoxious. He was around you way too often. He practically clung to you. You just brushed it off as Nikolai being Nikolai.
But eventually when the jealousy kicked in when it came down to you, the rage did too. Anyone who tried to harm you, threaten you, or even flirt with you — this man did not like it one bit. Every single person who flirted with you disappeared. Every person who would harm or threaten you — would soon meet a terrible fate.
This man would constantly use his ability to torture them while laughing as it was happening. He didn't care cause he was doing it all for you. It was all because he loved you, he adored you, he wanted you, he needed you — and he was gonna have you.
He wasn't going to stop there until everyone who was an obstacle in his path would be gone, would feel every ounce of pain he could give them. He'd mess with his victims mentally and physically with his ability. Asking trick questions just so they felt like they'd got the answer right but in the end they didn't and he could hurt them all he wanted.
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1K notes · View notes
akutasoda · 30 days
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hello, jing yuan, aventurine, sunday and boothill with a teen!assasin reader who was ordered by their master to kill them but couldnt and [character] took them in due to their young age and frankly them being pitiful
Reader was practically forced onto assasination, is hardened and doesnt show much emotion due to their past
youthful assassinations
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synopsis - they meet you through some awkward encounters after a failed assassination and yet they take pity on you and try to help
includes - jing yuan, aventurine, sunday, boothill
warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst, maybe ooc, mentions of killing etc, wc - 1.3k
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jing yuan ★↷
↪ being the arbiter general of the luofu meant that he would have a great deal of enemies or people out to get him. but out of all the people he would expect to be sent after him, the last in that list would be a teenager. admittedly a rather skilled one.
↪although, no amount of training for you could defeat someone who had many, many years more experience than you. normally, anyone who made an attempt on his life would be sent rather promptly to the shackling prison with a hefty sentence. but fortunately for you, jing yuan took pity.
↪he could take a wild guess that you didn't choose to do this, there was something about the fact that you were so young that made him decide that you had no free will - which he would be correct about.
↪admittedly, the main reason he decided not to take action against you was because he took pity - but another reason was because he admired the skill you had, he just thought it was wasted under your current work. he could tell that your current skill could be used much more effectively, and morally better, under his guidance.
↪naturally, you were incredibly cautious and adamant about giving up your job to be taken in by the one you were ordered to kill. but ultimately you decided to go along with it, it was a much better outcome than going to the shackling prison or simply returning to those that sent you out on the mission - you had a feeling they wouldn't be so kind to you after failing.
↪it was extremely awkward between the two of you at first. jing yuan was very persistent however, he wanted to help you and he was sure you'd come around to him in no time. although he did find it rather difficult to figure out what you were feeling because he truly couldn't tell with you.
↪jing yuan tried his hardest to help. he knew it was a difficult task but he was determined to make sure that your life got set on the right track. slowly but surely he would build up your trust - very slowly because you weren't so eager to give up anything about yourself.
↪your skill was certainly impressive for your age and jing yuan definitely thought it was much better used in the cloud knights, or even another retainer, than some unlawful assassin work. and eventually, he felt like he had another child to look after.
aventurine ★↷
↪the IPC wasn't exactly the most liked company in the galaxy, far from it. so naturally being a higher level member of the IPC meant that some people would be hunting you down. so having someone go after a stoneheart wasn't all that uncommon. although a teenager skilled in assanation was definitely a surprise to see.
↪unfortunately, you were practically set on an impossible mission. trying to kill someone who was luck blessed upon them wasn't exactly going to end well for you. fortunately however, you were lucky enough for aventurine to take pity on you.
↪he knew what it was like to be forced into something as a child, although it was quite the different experience between the two of you. but he still felt bad, you clearly hadn't had the choice to begin with and he wanted to help someway.
↪getting you to join the IPC wouldn't exactly be the greatest upgrade for you, if anything from his own personal experience it would only make it seem better but would be worse. however aventurine knew that your ‘employer’ wouldn't take your failure well.
↪so unfortunately, aventurine managed to land you a job at the IPC. except you were to work directly under him as a fork of bodyguard, that way the IPC’s grasp wasn't as bad as it normally would be to a regular employee.
↪aventurine understood why you didn't show much emotion, he couldn't blame you. all he could do was hope that eventually you'd start trusting him, he knew it could take ages but he never had someone genuine in his corner back then, so he'd be someone in yours.
sunday ★↷
↪head of the oak family. a title that carried a lot of responsibility and consequently, a lot of risks. some risks did include some people choosing to hunt him down, some people such as your ‘employer'. sunday never expected for a teenager of all people to be the next to go after him.
↪no amount of skill you possess could actually prove a threat to him, and it took him no time at all to discover who your ‘employer' was and the intent of them sending you after him - thanks to a certain gift from a certain aeon.
↪which is also how he knew immediately that you were practically forced into this job and the whole assanation thing as a whole from a young age. admittedly, this did stir a tad bit of sympathy from sunday and so he took pity on you.
↪your skills were impressive for someone of your age and so sunday thought that you'd be better suited to working alongside the bloodhounds or some faction in penacony, not the lousy people that you worked for before. although he did also think that you deserved to have time away from the whole ‘assassination’ business.
↪sunday knew that you would be rather closed off and emotionless, he didn't care all that much though. he understood that you had quite the past and so he expected that from you. he would just have to try his hardest to help you break out of that shell to at least him.
boothill ★↷
↪boothill had many, many people either chasing down his own bounty or simply hunting him down. although, you were certainly the first teenager that had been sent after him - and no matter how skilled you were, he certainly wouldn't let himself get caught by you of all people.
↪boothill was initially quite impressed by the skills that you held at such a young age, you kind of reminded him of his old self at a young age. he reckoned that you could definitely hone your skills even more as you grew up but clearly not under whoever at that moment.
↪galaxy rangers often worked alone, and boothill adhered to that. however, he could clearly tell that you had been forced into assassination and knew that if you continued on with however, it wouldn't end up so well off later down the line.
↪and so boothill offered you the choice to travel with him. he definitely thought that he could help you more than those lazy scoundrels that sent you after him could - you could even help him with bounty-hunting but that could come later.
↪he knew that you weren't so open with him and he respected that. naturally you wouldn't be close to someone you just met, especially considering your past, but the fact that you took his offer showed that you had some kind of trust or faith in him.
↪the person that became boothill had a daughter, he never got to see her grow up. you could never be her but he wasn't asking you to be. boothill saw you the same way his adoptive parents saw him, a child, or teenager even, in need of help. in need of a parental figure. and that's exactly what he aimed to be for you.
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taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn
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signanothername · 1 month
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Can we have a more in depth look into how you think Dream and Nightmare experience autism and how it affects them?
YESSSSS LETS GOOOOO!!!!
Ok before we start this ramble, I’d like to emphasize how important the time period Dream and Nightmare grew up in, it was a time period in which anything mental health related was immediately connected with “demons” and “possession”
I like to say that the twins are masked Autistics a lot, but in truth, I like to think they both started off without masking their Autism at all, they never saw anything wrong with the way they behaved (cause there indeed wasn’t anything wrong), they were comfortable with who they were and how they behaved, it was their normal in a world that saw it as abnormal, but it was when the villagers started getting in the picture that problems started
Nightmare experiences his Autism through his special interest in learning new things and reading books, hyper empathy, isolation, avoiding eye contact, semi-repulsion to touch if he wasn’t the one to initiate it, understimulation, extreme difficulty in understanding his own emotions (and by extension, difficulty in expressing them), generally being blunt, brutally honest and direct, and selective mutism, Nightmare mostly stims by repeating certain sounds or phrases and humming
Dream experiences his Autism through his special interest in nature (especially flowers), precious stones as well as sewing, difficulty understanding social cues, selective mutism, extreme sensitivity to bright lights (he has a love/hate relationship with the sun) and loud noises, overstimulation, low empathy, and learning difficulties especially when it comes to language, Dream tends to stim by flapping his hands or stomping his feet
Both the twins perfer to follow a routine, however, Nightmare tends to plan his days carefully, and finds any change in his routine extremely distressing to the point it can cause him to experience a meltdown if he couldn’t think of a quick solution
Dream finds a change in his routine distressing too, but his reaction is a bit milder, he tends to get anxious and starts stimming to calm himself down all while he works on a way to get his routine back on track
Speaking of meltdowns, whenever the twins are extremely distressed, Nightmare is more likely to experience a shutdown while Dream is more likely to experience a meltdown, that doesn’t mean the opposite can’t happen sometimes, but it really depends on the situation
Then the villagers came and abused Nightmare into masking his Autism, using his Autistic traits as an excuse to demonize him, made comments about how he must be “possessed”, meanwhile they abused Dream into masking by making sweet tainted mean spirited comments about any behavior he exhibited that felt “abnormal” to them, they’d say things like “honey, it’s rude not to look someone in the eyes when speaking to them” or how he should “use his words” when Dream felt like he couldn’t
Both Nightmare and Dream internalized such comments deeply, and started subconsciously masking their Autism, they were children at the time after all, and especially after the apple incident, Nightmare truly believed he might be a demon or at least possessed by one for centuries after, cause for so long Nightmare couldn’t find a logical explanation in his beloved books for why he behaves the way he does
The word “Autism” never even existed back then, Nightmare spent years of his life researching for any logical explanation only to hit a dead end each time, and now that he’s out in the multiverse seeing how many people don’t really exhibit the same behavior he and his twin do, he was trying desperately to reassure himself that he can’t truly be a “demon” considering Dream exhibits the same “abnormal” behaviors (it rarely made him feel better about himself), even as an adult, the thought of being a “demon” distresses Nightmare so much that he sometimes experiences a meltdown cause of it
Nightmare eventually gives up trying to understand himself and instead starts consciously masking his Autism, he starts forcing himself to look people in the eye when he speaks or spoken to, he stops himself from stimming, he forces himself to speak when he’s overwhelmed, he starts hiding his love for his special interest (he has an entire big library of books yet he’d force himself not to spend most of his time there), he stops isolating himself and forces himself not to avert from anyone touching him, all to appear “normal”, all while it’s physically painful and emotionally draining to him
Same thing with Dream, except Dream never consciously masks, it’s all subconsciously, he forces himself to make eye contact, he stops stimming when people are around, he forces himself to act “normal” when he’s overstimulated, he forces himself to speak even when he feels like he can’t, he hides his special interest and puts on a mask of empathy even when he can’t truly understand/ tune in with the pain or feelings others experience but rather only able to understand their pain in a logical manner (and it makes him feel so damn guilty, cause Dream loves to help people, he thinks that he should be able to feel sad when others do), he pretends to understand social cues when in reality he only mimics how others act in social situations, he blames his learning difficulties on “time constraints” and how he simply doesn’t have the time to sit down and learn
Sometimes both the twins’ masks slip away when they’re extremely overwhelmed, other times, they let their masks slip when they’re alone, and it only adds to their stress cause they feel a sort of fucked up guilt and shame over not acting in a “normal” way, other times it’s a guilty pleasure, they almost reached a point in which they think their Autistic traits are some sort of privilege, punishing themselves if they mess up by not giving themselves the relief of letting the mask slip when alone (like forcing themselves not to stim)
The fucked up truth is, their masks also really impairs them socially, cause sometimes they get anxious thinking about being normal, that it might distract them or cause them to lose track of things
And even when the centuries passed by and science developed and changed and the idea of demonic possession became outdated and mental health became more prominent, and the word “Autism” came to be, neither twins really know they have Autism, neither of them even know what Autism is, Dream doesn’t have the resources to understand what it is, and Nightmare gave up trying to understand himself a long time ago to realize he’s not demonic for it
Will they eventually know about it, understand themselves better and get the support they deserve? It’ll probably take as many years to undo the damage done but I like to believe they do
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A kinda part 2
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moon7jay · 8 months
Text
Enhypen with a s/o who suffers from an ED (hyung line)
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Warnings : ed behaviours, body dysmorphia, low self esteem, self depreciation, suggestive in jay's, fluff, comfort, triggering content ahead, please proceed with caution<3
Requested by .・゜゜・ @onlyni-kis (I tried my best to make it realistic, I hope it helps you somehow)
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Heeseung
He'd be so attentive and accomodating to your needs. As someone with an Ed, you're often not taken seriously. Your mental problems are not considered valid. And so you usually avoid social settings where people can pass up unnecessary comments on your body or eating choices and heeseung never pressures you to get out if you don't want to. Because you lack confidence and even slight comments trigger you, heeseung makes sure that no one can do so while he's around. If he's around, you can freely go anywhere and do anything. He would have a reputation of a 0 tolerance boyfriend who did not like people perceiving you in anyway. So whenever he is around, people usually know to keep their words in check. He's your safe blanket. The only person you can be yourself with.
You were hanging out with heeseung's cousins in a family get together, sitting on heeseung's lap and indulging in oily food for once, trying to let go of the food guilt.
"y/n that's a lot of food for one sitting" one of them commented and even though the comment was harmless with no real intent to hurt you, it did hurt. Your appetite dying instantly as you gave them a sheepish smile ,standing up from heeseung's lap and excusing yourself from the setting, not wanting your useless tears to fall and ruin everyone's mood. Heeseung let you walk away to collect your emotions but the instant icy glare he shot towards his cousin was something his family would never forget.
"I thought I made it clear that when y/n comes over you better watch your fucking mouths" he gritted through clenched teeth, the nerve on his forehead throbbing with how much effort it was taking him to stop himself from punching his cousin's stupid face. He found you standing in the kitchen, the food that was previously on your plate was now in the trash can and you just stood there staring at it, your small sniffles reaching his ears. You jumped upon feeling two strong arms wrap around your waist but melted into heeseung's touch in an instant.
"Baby, it's okay, have you seen the amount of food that i eat? On the daily basis?" His words made you snort, how ladylike. It was true, heeseung always made sure to load his plate full, piling stuff to the top just so he could make you laugh and forget about your own portion size. It always worked.
"Let's get out of here and I'll take you to this new ice cream parlor I've been meaning to try, would you like that baby? Just me and you?" He peppered small kisses along the length of your neck tenderly, making you close your eyes and just bask in his love. "Yeah I'd love that" you whispered. He was enough for you. You could deal with anything as long as you were in his arms.
Jay
Watching yourself in the mirror was always daunting for you, having no idea of what you really looked like, just constant voices in your head chanting "ugly" were all you could focus on. The dress that you were trying on was tight, it was suffocating. Not thin enough, not pretty enough, starve, starve-
A choked sob escaped your lips and you covered your mouth instantly, realizing that you were in a public space and your boyfriend was right outside. Jay's thought made you cry more, all of your self doubts creeping in and you turned away from the mirror, unable to look at your distorted reflection any longer. You often questioned why he was with you, you were nothing but a mess of a person, not pretty, not normal... just a gaping wound was what you were. Always bleeding. A sudden knock at the changing room's door jolted you out of your thoughts and you quickly wiped your tears, breathing in through your nose to make your voice less wobbly "yes?" you asked, hoping it was just a staff.
"baby let me in please" came jay's sweet voice and you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh leaving your lips. He knew you were having a breakdown, of course he knew, he always knew. You trudged towards the door and yanked it open, presenting your tear stained face to your worried boyfriend. Jay took you in his arms in an instant, cooing and shushing you when you started sobbing in earnest. "talk to me love, I'm right here" he whispered, running his palms all over your body, caressing you with so much tenderness it made you tighten your hold around his neck.
"I just-i don't like this dress" you choked out in the crook of his neck and he hummed in understanding "but I think it looks stunning on you baby" He whispered. His words made you pull back, still sniffing but staring into his eyes to detect a lie being told to placate you.
"You do?" you asked softly, not trusting your voice just yet. He nodded and turned you around, a gasp leaving your lips while your back rested against his chest. Your eyes met his in the mirror and you shied away from the intensity of his gaze. You watched as he ran his hands all over your body, your breath hitching when he cupped your chest, travelling down to your waist, then to your hips "so perfect" he whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. "look at the way it hugs your curves sweetheart, and the vibrant blue which brings out the color of your eyes", your eyes widened upon realizing that he was right, the dress did do wonders in highlighting your eyes. " look at the way it hugs your hips baby, driving me crazy" and it did, it hugged your hips so snugly, the fit so perfect now that you were seeing yourself in new light. His fingers dug into your waist, his lips touching your earlobe while he told you how beautiful you were. "let me take you home and show you how much I like this dress" He groaned and you bit your lower lip at his suggestion, suddenly feeling so sexy and so desired. He was so good at making you feel like this gorgeous person that you never thought you were. But he was here. And he wanted you. He thought you were pretty and that's all that mattered to you. It didn't heal you but it did make things easier.
Jake
He would be the type of boyfriend who keeps you stacked with your diet soda and 0 calorie foods. After he started dating you he had quickly grasped the severity of your condition, and even though it was out of his hand to actually help you, he did try his best to just be there for you.
"Jake I didn't order these" you asked your boyfriend in confusion, pointing towards the two full boxes of konjac noodles sitting on the kitchen counter. He walked towards you with a smile and pulled you into him. "I did, aren't they your favorite noodles? I was just trying to be a good boyfriend".
Favorite noodles. No they weren't. And you knew that jake knew that, but he didn't like to make you feel like there was something wrong with you, and you appreciated that so much. Your lower lip wobbled upon seeing the new cans of coke zero stacked on the side counter as well. Never had anyone cared so much about your needs and it was making you choke on your emotions. You had been running out of your ed foods and were trying to push back buying them because of the increasing prices, not wanting to waste money on your own hunger because according to you, you didn't deserve to eat anyway.
"How'd you know?" you whispered through a sniffle, already feeling the onslaught of tears. "because I know you, and I love you" He whispered back, wiping your tears and capturing your lips in his own, kissing you through your breakdown.
Sunghoon
You didn't want to overthink it. You really didn't, but your boyfriend was gorgeous and so it was inevitable that he got female attention wherever he went. And most girls ignored your presence beside him, fawning over him as if he didn't have his fingers intertwined with yours. She was beautiful, the girl your boyfriend had been laughing with when you stepped into his office unannounced. That was your biggest mistake because now you couldn't help but compare. Compare the thighs, the arms, the waist... you were nothing like her. Were these the women sunghoon spent his entire day with? and he still chose to come back to your plain self? What were you even doing with yourself? You should be starving harder, you decided. Just a few inches more and your waist might start looking like her, and maybe a few more inches on your thighs would make everything better and the- you were spiralling again. Unable to stop it even though you knew the consequences.
"This is the 3rd order this week baby" sunghoon's voice made you turn towards your bedroom door, mentally cursing upon finding the packaged waist trainer in his hands. You panicked and snatched it from his hands, mumbling a quick thank you and not meeting his eyes. You could feel his probing gaze on you. "You haven't stepped outside of this house in weeks, care to tell me what's going on?"
You hadn't lost weight, you weren't pretty enough yet, didn't he understand?? You couldn't just go outside looking like this, was he out of his mind?. Warm hands cupping your cheeks pulled you out of your inner monologue and you looked up at his intense eyes staring down at you. He rubbed his thumbs onto your cheeks and rested his forehead against yours
"Do you remember the first day of high school? When you had the biggest zit on your nose?" He asked and you looked up at him confused, not knowing where this conversation was headed but nodded regardless. "I loved you then" he whispered and your throat tightened, remembering how he was probably the only one in your entire grade who didn't make a comment on your acne. "And the time when you fell face first into the muddy water before class cuz you were an idiot who never looked at the ground while walking" The memory made you giggle but sunghoon only smiled fondly , kissing your nose "you were drenched from head to toe but i loved you then. I loved you so much y/n". You could feel the moisture gathering in your eyes at his confession, knowing that you spent your entire teen years hating yourself so much to the point that you failed to see the love that was around you. Remembering how you would shy away from your own reflection in the class windows because you despised yourself to the core. "And I loved you when you slapped me, loved you so much that it hurt". Tears were falling freely now, the painful memory of you slapping sunghoon after he confessed his feelings for you because you thought he was trying to make fun of you, coming back to you. cuz in your head there was no way that a guy like him could ever want something to do with you, so you automatically concluded that it was a prank, a distasteful one. "and I love you right now y/n, I love you because you're you. I can't live without you because your soft snores are the only thing helping me fall asleep most days. Because your stupid jokes are the only ones I'd ever fake my laugh for- you gasped through your tears and slapped his chest lightly, making him chuckle. "I love you because I can't help it. It's that easy to love you. " he continued , wiping your tears, "don't you understand baby? You never had to try to make me love you, so why now?". You buried your face into his chest and sobbed, feeling like a huge rock had been lifted off of your chest. His assurance was what you craved the most. The reminder that you were enough for someone. For him.
"I want you just like you are sweetheart, flaws and scars intact. Raw and unfiltered. Now that I have you in my arms, please don't take that away from me" He whispered, wrapping his hands tightly around your heaving body.
"If it's hard for you to love yourself,please let me do it for you" and just like that, he was again fixing the parts of you that he didn't break.
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lightwing-s · 8 months
Text
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬
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pairing: jason todd x fem! reader
summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.
word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.
a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist
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With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.
It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.
Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different. 
You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.
Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.
You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.
It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.
Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone. 
Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?
Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.
You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet. 
You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?
So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.
It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.
The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.
He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?
Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.
You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?
After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.
“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.
You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there. 
So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.
The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.
Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.
A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.
You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.
You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.
An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.
Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie. 
He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now? 
But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.
A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away. 
In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory. 
It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.
He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.
When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.
“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”
You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.
And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.
The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could. 
By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.
“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.
You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.
You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.
The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.
“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind. 
Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?
Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.
Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.
“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”
Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.
“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”
“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.
The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.
“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.
“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”
Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…
The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of  telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.
“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”
He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.
He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”
You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.
“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.
Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.
That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.
“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”
His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.
 “Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”
It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.
While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.
Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.
Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.
It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes. 
Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.
“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”
The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.
It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.
When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it. 
Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant. 
You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.
“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”
“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.
The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.
He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?
When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.
“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”
“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”
“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together.  We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”
Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.
Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?
Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.
“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”
“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.
“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”
“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”
He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.
“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”
“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”
“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”
He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company. 
The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.
“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”
“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”
“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.
“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”
For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.
“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.
“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”
He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.
You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.
He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor. 
“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.
“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.
You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.
You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.
A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.
“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.
“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.
.
.
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Hi!!! Would it be okay if I requested a worried head cannon for Astarion(Or Wyll or Halsin, I’m fine with any of them) where they lost track of Tav while on a scouting/stealth mission or on the battlefield? Thank you!
A/N: I went with losing track of their Tav on a stealth mission because that seemed the most anxiety-inducing… lol. Poor boys. Sorry, it’s not my best, I was rushing :( 
✧ Losing Track of Their Tav on A Stealth Mission ✧
Astarion: 
The most likely to panic, even though he swears he’d be the last to do so. 
He’s running all the worst-case scenarios through his head: you’ve been killed, you’ve been captured, you’re being enslaved just like he is…
Immediately jumps to the worry that Cazador or someone working for him has realized the two of you are together and plans to get to him through you.
He considers getting one of his companion’s attention but ultimately decides to continue sneaking in alone. He’s pretty good at sneaking, and the others could screw it up. He can’t leave your fate in the hands of someone klutzy like Gale accidentally casting fireball and alerting everyone to their presence. 
If he wasn’t intent on killing anyone in his way, he is now. They mean nothing to him. You mean everything to him. Do the math. You > Them. 
Definitely ends up compromising the mission, by either getting seen and alerting everyone or by causing enough chaos and death that people begin to notice. But none of that matters anymore to Astarion, whose only goal is finding you. Of course, if anyone else was to make that mistake, he’d chew them out for it. But he can’t see how hypocritical he’s being: all he can think about is your safety. 
When he finds you, he masks his fear with anger. He calls you an idiot, a fool- every name in the book. He doesn’t intend to hurt your feelings, he just doesn’t like how his affection for you puts him in a vulnerable place. He was terrified of losing you. The fear of that greatly outweighs the fear of the tadpole. 
He’ll get you away from there, away from everyone else. He can’t trust the strangers of Baldur’s Gate, and he doesn’t want his companions to see him this emotional. 
After the two of you are back to safety, and after he finishes berating you, he yanks you into a tight hug, refusing to let go. 
You tell him you’re sorry, and that it’s over now and you inform him it’s okay to let it out. Be prepared for the shoulder of your top to become soaked in tears. He’ll cry into you, telling you in between sobs how you were the first person in forever to see him as an equal. He needs you. You are the only one who sees him. He can’t lose you. 
After he’s calmed down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Something about also being afraid to lose his very own privately stocked food source. Of course, you see right through the facade. You let him feed after that comment anyway, softly petting his hair as he does so. 
And even though normally while feeding, he’d be comforting you, telling you it’s alright, that it’s almost over- you end up comforting him, shushing him, and telling him the two of you will be okay- you’re not going anywhere. 
Wyll: 
Probably the most level-headed in his reaction, even if his thoughts are racing like mad. As the Blade of Frontiers, he’s learned how to think strategically in most situations. Of course, that’s easier said than done when someone you know and love is personally on the line. 
He’s figuring out all the possibilities, working out how likely each one is, in order to figure out which avenues to first explore. 
He continues on his own before remembering he’s not acting solo anymore. He’ll round back to where the others are stationed, and give them the news. He tells them the mission’s priorities have changed, and the goal for now is to find you. 
He doesn’t plan on completely abandoning the original job of course. He intends to get right back to business. He can keep both ideas in his head
Tries his best not to blow the original mission while looking for you. Of course, when push comes to shove, he’s going to choose you. The mission can be tried again at a later time: he can’t lose you. He’s lost too much in this life to accept having to part with another. 
If he has no leads and it's been a while, and he’s growing increasingly nervous, he might consider calling Mizora and asking for her help, even though he knows it’s going to cost him more years of servitude. Having to work for a devil is much more bearable when there’s someone you love. He’d make a thousand deals if it meant you’d stay safe. 
Once he finds you, he’ll quickly ask if you’re alright, before ushering everyone out. He wants nothing more than to speak to you freely, but he knows right then isn't the time to do it. 
After you are safely far enough away, either back at camp, or somewhere secluded, he’ll firmly but kindly demand to know what the hell you were thinking, sneaking off like that?! He wants you to know he was worried, dammit! He loves you! Can’t you see how much losing you would hurt him? 
He’ll take you into his arms and place a soft kiss on your forehead. You are so precious to him. Please, please, he asks, be more careful. 
He vows to be at your side for any future stealth missions. He loves how brave you are, and how much you want to protect him. Just let him protect you in return. 
Halsin: 
Halsin probably reacts the least because he has the most faith that you’ll be okay. He sees you as his savior- a savior of his people, of the grove, of the tieflings- you are the most incredible person to him. 
That being said, he’s not going to simply do nothing if he thinks you’ve run into trouble. You mean so much to him, of course he’s going to change courses and instead go search for you! 
He’s also going to rope the others into helping him. I mean, he’s not forcing them or anything, but he does regroup and tell the others of his concerns. He’s very calm and level-headed, but also quite determined, so the others have few qualms about switching gears and following him. 
He’s also the most adept at staying hidden while looking for you, being able to wild shape into an inconspicuous animal like a cat or a rat or a bird. He uses his druid abilities to his advantage, steering clear of confrontation as he makes a beeline to where your scent takes him. 
Once he finds you, if you yourself haven't been discovered and taken, he’ll stay in animal form, and carefully guide you to a reliable exit. However, if you’ve already been caught, be prepared for things to get hairy. (Get it? Hairy?) 
He will not hesitate to shift into a big-ass bear and rip people’s throats out as he carries you on his back to safety. Even though this makes him a much more large and obvious target, he’ll do it, if it means keeping you protected. Any hits or damage he can take, he can heal from, all the less pain you have to endure. 
He absolutely brings you somewhere outside of the city. He feels safest in nature, and in order to calm down, he needs free-flowing nature, which is hard to come by in Baldur’s Gate.
He’s going to squish you- even if you’re bigger than him. He’ll lay you down gently, before resting on top of you, keeping balanced so that you don’t have to support all of his weight. He needs to be close to you, preferably with skin-to-skin contact. He needs your warmth, your smell, the softness of your skin… It centers him and brings him back down to earth. 
He’ll voice his worries while simultaneously complimenting your skill. He doesn't want you to feel incapable, but he must let you know how he felt in that moment when he feared you were hurt or worse. 
You are his light, you brought him out of the shadows. And he can’t bear to lose you. Please, don’t fade away. Don’t leave him in darkness once more. 
...
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