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mountsmase · 1 month

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I’m Yours

a/n : hi!! I can’t believe I’m finally posting this fic! I’ve had this concept sat in my drafts since March and I went through a bit of a hard time with writing but I’ve now turned this idea into something that I’m really proud of 🥹 this is the first time I’ve attempted to write something where the reader and Mase aren’t already in an established relationship, so I really hope that I did it justice and that you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!! These two are my babies 🥺 I really hope you enjoy ❤️ feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻 (also it’s my first time trying an actual header so please let me know what you think)

word count: 14k +

genre: fluff and smut

“There you are”

The deep rumble of your best friends voice startles you, his suit clad body brushing against the bare skin of your arm as he appears next to you.

Mason pulls out the chair beside your own, sitting down with you in the secluded corner of the crowded room.

The Together for Short Lives gala is well and truly underway, the large ballroom decorated in elegant black and gold furnishings as people talk amongst themselves around the room. It’s packed, an amazing turn out for such a meaningful event.

The evening so far has been nothing short of special, with a dinner followed by an auction, all of the money going to an amazing cause. Your heart filled with pride watching Mason up on the stage and you’re so grateful that he chose to share this night with you.

“You disappeared on me” Mason pouts, glancing down at the cocktail you’re holding in your hands before taking it from you and lifting it to his lips.

He takes a sip and you giggle at the face he pulls as he clearly didn’t enjoying the sweet tasting drink as much as he thought he would.

“Sorry, I just went to get another drink and then I couldn’t find you” You tell him, taking your glass back when he offers it to you.

“You should’ve called me, I’d of come to find you” He replies, and you try to ignore the way your tummy flutters at his words.

“I know you would’ve, but I can handle being alone for a bit, I’m a big girl”

There’s a playful glint in his eyes when you look up at him.

“But what if I wanted to come and find you?”

“Well you’re here now, so it couldn’t of been that difficult” You grin, watching as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and you’re briefly distracted when he reaches up to adjust his tie.

You and Mason have been friends for as long as you can remember.

Your dads used to work together when they were younger and they always had a close relationship both in and out of work, which led to your families becoming close as well. Your mums became inseparable when they were introduced, and a few years later, when you and Mason were born only a few months apart, you naturally became inseparable too.

You grew up together, your parents keeping you close despite the fact that you attended two different schools, and as you got older, your bond only grew stronger.

Some of your best memories are with Mason, you’d stay the weekend at each others houses, spend long afternoons doing homework together before playing in the garden, and there were even a few summers where your families had joint holidays.

It was the two of you against the world, and it had always been that way.

That is until his football career started to take off. You were so proud of him. Your friend was playing for one of the best clubs in the England and you were over the moon to see him doing so well.

But, it unfortunately meant that he became busier and was spending more and more time in London and away from Portsmouth. You tried your best to stay in touch, messaging all the time and video calling when you eventually got phones, but you can’t deny that it was hard not having him around anymore.

Things only started to get difficult when he went on loan to Vitesse when you were 18. It was harder to keep contact with him being away and being so focussed on football, but you’d never blame him for the fact you drifted apart.

You were in college at the time, spending any available minuet that you had on your classes, making sure you could pass your exams and get into the uni you’d always dreamed of attending.

It was difficult, you couldn’t be there for each other as much as you’d of liked to be, and as much as you’d both tried your hardest to stop it, it started becoming harder and harder as time went on.

You’d only see each other at family events like birthdays and weddings and it got to the point where you’d only talk once every few months or so. Even when he came back to the UK and was living in Cobham, you’d video call to catch up and then not speak to each other again for weeks unless you had something specific to talk about.

It was all part of growing up though. He was still one of your best friends, someone you knew you could trust and could call if you ever needed anything, and you were the same to him.

You both became increasingly busy, especially when he began playing for the first team and you were going through university, so it made sense that it became harder to make time for each other.

But, last year, it all changed.

After graduating from university and receiving your degree three years ago, you were presented with an amazing job opportunity in Manchester, which you just couldn’t say no to. It was a big change for you, moving somewhere so far away from home and having to start a new life in a new city, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You’re doing amazing at work, having received a promotion not even two years after joining your company, and you’ve got a cute little apartment that you’ve well and truly made your own.

You really didn’t think it could get much better, but you were proved wrong when Mason transferred to Man United last summer.

After a lot of uncertainty surrounding his career, Mason was relived to finally know who he would be playing for next season and was excited to start his new life up in Manchester.

You were one of the only people he knew in the city, and when he reached out, you offered for him to stay in your spare bedroom whilst he settled in and found a place to call his own.

He obviously took you up on your offer, loving the extra time he got to spend with you and the familiarity that came with being in your presence.

You had the best month living together. It was like you’d never been apart, all of those years of having distance between you forgotten. You’d cook dinner together, have movie nights, talk to each other after you’d had a bad day at training or work and even after he moved out and into his new home, you still spent as much time together as possible.

You had your best friend back, and you had truly never felt happier.

Now, fast forward 8 months, and you’re questioning if that’s really all you are anymore.

You’ve always known that Mason is an attractive guy. I mean, how could you not? He’s gorgeous.

But recently that attraction has grown deeper. And not only in a physical way.

The last couple of months have been filled with lingering touches and longing gazes, the line between friendship and something more slowly becoming blurred.

He’s no longer just Mason, your best friend, but he’s Mason, the guy you think, sorry, know that you’re in love with.

Mason is one of the few people who treats you like you’re somebody. He makes you feel like the most special girl in the world without even trying and you’ve had to remind yourself one too many times recently that there’s nothing more going on between you.

You haven’t mentioned your feelings to him because you’re scared. Scared of loosing him and ruining what is such an important friendship to you. Scared that you aren’t enough for him.

You didn’t have the best experience in your last relationship, and you know deep down that Mason would never treat you the way he did and that there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You’re a pretty girl who has good morals and a good head on your shoulders.

But, the fear that you’re not good enough - that you wouldn’t be able to give him what he wants and needs - still clouds your mind, and it’s one of the reasons why you won’t admit anything to him.

And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? After the last couple of months you know deep down that he could, but the last thing you want is to throw away your friendship over it.

You just can’t ignore the growing tension between the two of you.

But…neither can he.

Mason has felt for a long time that there’s no one else for him but you, and his feelings for you just grew stronger after moving to Manchester.

You took him in and made him feel at home in a city where mostly everything was new to him, supported him through a tough transition period, and after moving out of your spare bedroom he found himself craving your company more than anyone else’s.

You feel like home to him.

Tough day at training? He wants to see you. He saw something funny on TikTok? It’s you he wants to send it to you. He burnt his toast that morning? He wants to tell you. You’re at the forefront of his mind all the time.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever set his eyes on, both inside and out. You’ve got a heart of gold and he would do anything in his power to protect you from the harsh reality’s of the world. You’re the most important person to him, he just wants to make you happy and see you smiling all the time.

This tension that’s been building between you recently has been killing him, and as much as he worries that you won’t feel the same way, he doesn’t think he can hold in his feelings much longer.

There’s been too many moments where he’s had to stop himself from leaning in and claiming your lips with his own, and it’s been becoming harder and harder to restrain himself.

Especially tonight.

He’d invited you to join him and Lewis as a plus one to the black tie gala, wanting to experience the evening with you and share something that’s always been so special to him.

When you stepped out of the lift earlier in the evening, his heart soared at the sight of you in your floor length gown. You left him speechless, and he’s not been able to take his eyes off of you ever since.

The black material hugs your body in all of the right places, perfectly contrasting against your tanned skin. You’ve matched it with a pair of strappy heals and silver jewellery, going for a simple yet elegant look.

There’s a slit down the left side, starting at your upper thigh, and the sight of your leg poking out from underneath the satin fabric has Mason’s mind wandering to places that he knows it shouldn’t.

You look absolutely stunning, and he’s been struggling to hold himself back all evening.

He’s found his attention drifting to you through out the night, more often than not becoming distracted from whatever conversation he’s having to admire you, and he’d quickly become captivated by your presence.

Sitting next to you now is no different, he can’t help but let his eyes drift down your body and your cheeks heat when you notice his wandering gaze.

There’s a look of longing in his eyes, one you’ve become familiar with, but until tonight you’ve always thought that you’ve been imagining it.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, Mase”

The sound of your soft voice has his attention snapping away from your body, and your heart skips a beat when his warm brown eyes find yours.

His cheeks flush from being caught, but his confidence doesn’t falter.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He whispers, loud enough for only you to hear and the teasing smirk that finds his lips has your heart racing in your chest.

You’re overcome by a wave of shyness, any response that you may have had dying in your throat as he shuffles closer to you, his knee nudging into yours under the table.

He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but the urge to touch you suddenly becomes too much to ignore. He finds himself reaching out, his warm palm landing against your exposed thigh as his other arm snakes behind you, resting against the back of your chair. Your skin burns under his touch, breath hitching in your throat when his thumb rubs in tender circles over the inside of your thigh.

Mason has always been a touchy person, you’ve seen and experienced it over your years of friendship, but there’s something about the way he’s touching you now that has your head spinning.

His hand ventures a little higher and you fumble to open your purse, pulling out your lipgloss and phone in a desperate attempt to distract yourself and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you’ve avoided his question when you open the camera app, using it as a makeshift mirror to reapply the gloss.

He watches as you swipe the applicator over your pink, plump lips, the action captivating him and it takes all of his self restraint to not lean in and kiss you right there and then.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Bambi”

You pop the lid back onto the tube and place it back into your purse - your distraction techniques having been unsuccessful - and look up and into his eyes.

The whispered compliment has butterflies erupting in your tummy, your lips tugging up into a smile upon hearing the nickname he’s always used for you.

It started when you were 10, you always loved the movie and had invited him over to watch it with you after school one day. About half way through you stood up to go and find more popcorn but being your clumsy self you’d ended up tripping over your own feet.

Mase took the opportunity to compare your clumsiness to that of the deer, and at first he used the nickname as a joke, but then it stuck, and now, even in your twenties he still liked to use it. And you love to hear it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Masey” you tell him, letting your gaze drop briefly and you take allow yourself a moment to admire him.

Mason is handsome even on his worst days - you’re convinced that he could wear the ugliest outfit ever and somehow still pull it off - but there something about the way he looks tonight that has you breathless.

The suit he’s wearing is simple - perfect for a black tie event. A white shirt with a black jacket and trousers, a matching tie and some dress shoes to complete the look. The chest strap that he wore earlier in the evening has been abandoned, the jacket now undone allowing for more of a relaxed look as the evening goes on.

His hair is freshly trimmed, styled into a short quiff and his facial hair is neat, more of a long stubble than a full beard. The lighting in the room is dim, but you can still make out all of his features, the freckles that are dotted over his cheeks, his long lashes and the dimple that appears whenever he smiles. He’s utterly breathtaking.

“Remind me to thank whoever tailored this suit for you” You smile, gaze locking onto his again as you reach up, smoothing your hands over the lapels of his jacket.

“You like it?”

“I love it, you look so handsome” you let your hands drop back into your lap and he misses your touch immediately.

“Yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you nod gently.

You feel his arm move from behind you as he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before brushing down your jaw and you become hyper-aware of how close you are when you feel his breath fanning over your cheek.

It feels as though the air around you has suddenly shifted, his gaze swimming with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The intense eye contact becomes too much for you, your eyes momentarily dropping to his chest but he brings them back to his with a hand cupping your jaw, tilting your head up so that you have no choice but to look at him.

His gaze drops to your lips, once, twice, and a third time, until the desire to feel them against his own becomes too overwhelming. He’s leaning in before he has a chance to stop himself, the lack of hesitation in your eyes only urging him on until someone clears their throat behind you.

“Hey guys” Lewis’ voice snaps you and Mason back to reality, the room around you coming back into focus.

His presence causes Mason to jump away from you, an unwelcome chill touching your skin where his hand no longer rests against your thigh. He groans in annoyance and turns towards his brother.

You release the breath you never realised you were holding, clearing your throat and fiddling nervously with the hem of your dress as Mason looks up at Lewis expectantly.

If he saw anything, he doesn’t let it show.

“Sorry Mase, there’s a few people asking for you”

Mason nods politely, standing up before turning to hold a hand out for you.

“You coming?” He asks, acting as though nothing happened - that he hasn’t just nearly kissed you.

It takes you a few more seconds to regain your composure, blinking up at him a few times before eventually nodding and taking his outstretched hand.

He helps you up, waiting until Lewis has turned away to lift your joint hands to his lips. He places a quick kiss to your knuckles, sending you a soft smile before letting them drop between you again and he doesn’t let go as you follow him through the crowd, fingers still intertwined as Lewis introduces you to an older man who you recognise as one of the event organisers.

You try your best to focus on the conversations that are happening in front of you. You really do.

But it’s hard to concentrate with Mason’s fingers still tangled with yours and the thought of what could’ve happened had Lewis not interrupted you a few moments ago.

That’s the second time you’ve almost kissed him. The first being a few weeks ago when he’d invited you and a few of your other friends over for a games night.

You’d gotten to Mason’s a little earlier than everyone else, wanting to spend a bit of extra time with him before the others arrived and you were in the kitchen, helping him find some snacks and drinks when your favourite song had come on shuffle through the speakers.

One thing led to another and you were dancing around the kitchen, singing your little heart out as Mason stood back and watched you, giggling at your terrible dance moves.

As the song went on you got a little more into it, accidentally crashing into him after tripping over your own feet and he’d reached out to steady you, the two of you laughing together as you found your footing and rested against his chest.

Your laughter had slowly died down, the air around you thickening as you looked up to find him already gazing down at you. The warm look in his eyes could only be described as endearment and what happened next was a bit of blur.

He was leaning in when the door bell went off, the others arriving at the worst time and ruining the moment without even realising.

You’ve thought about it every day since, wondering what could’ve been, and now here you are weeks later, still asking yourself the same questions.

You’re brought back to the present moment when Mason squeezes your hand, dragging your attention back to the conversation happening in front of you.

“You okay?” He mumbles close to your ear, hand letting go of yours to instead wrap around your waist and you melt into his warmth as he tugs you closer.

You nod, sending him a smile that says you’re cool, calm and collected, but it’s as much of a facade as it can be when inside you’re feeling the complete opposite.

“How about one more drink and then we head back to the hotel?” Mason suggests a few hours later, glancing down to his watch and noticing that it’s nearing 11pm.

“You guys go ahead, I’m going to go and talk to a few more people and then I’ll come and find you guys” Lewis tells you before heading to the other side of the room and you follow Mason over to the bar.

“Water?” Mason asks, voice low as you approach counter.

He knows you’re not the biggest drinker, only ever choosing to have one or two drinks when you go out, and you’ve already had a cocktail and a glass of wine with your dinner.

“Please” You smile, glancing over to him as he orders and pays for your drinks.

“Sorry mate, any chance we can grab a straw please?” Mason asks the bar tender when he places your water down in front of you, and you feel your cheeks warm at the simple gesture. You’ve always preferred drinking with straws, some people may think it’s weird, but to Mason it’s just one of the many things he loves about you.

You thank him as he slides the glass towards you, watching as he takes the paper wrapped straw from the bartender with a cheeky grin. He tears off the end of the wrapper, bringing the exposed end of the straw to his lips and you could predict what he was about to do from a mile off, but it still makes you jump when he blows on the straw, sending the paper flying and he laughs as it hits your cheek before landing on the counter next to you.

“Mason” You groan playfully, shaking your head at his childish behaviour. Still, you can’t help but laugh with him, and his heart soars at the sound.

It’s not long later that you’re leaving the venue after finishing your drinks and saying your goodbyes, stepping out into the chilly evening air as Lewis steps aside to call a taxi.

“Did you have a good night?” Mason asks, coming to stand beside you.

A gust of wind ruffles his hair, a couple of strands falling onto his forehead and you have to fight the urge to reach up and brush them away for him.

“Yeah I did, thank you for inviting me, it was special” you smile up at him, rubbing your palms against your bare arms in an attempt to keep warm when the wind picks up. The temperature has dropped significantly since earlier in the evening, and you’re now regretting your choice to not bring a second layer with you.

Mason doesn’t hesitate to slip off his suit jacket when he notices you shivering, slipping it over your shoulders before you can protest. You snuggle into it’s warmth, breathing in the scent of his cologne that still lingers on the fabric.

“Better?” He murmurs, making sure its wrapped around you enough before draping an arm around your shoulders.

“Thank you” You nod, melting into his side when he gently tugs you towards him.

The wait for the taxi isn’t too long, and you stay snuggled up to Mason’s side as he chats away to Lewis about your plans for getting back to Manchester tomorrow. You don’t pay any attention to their conversation though, too busy focussing on his little touches to listen to what they’re saying.

He holds you close, absentmindedly tracing patterns into your shoulder through the material of his jacket. You’re resting against his chest, and it rumbles underneath your cheek whenever he speaks, his soft voice soothing you.

You could stay wrapped up in him forever, but your bubble is popped when the taxi pulls up to the curb in front of you.

Lewis takes the front seat, letting you and Mason sit in the back together and you slide in when he holds the door open for you. He climbs in behind you, pouting as you settle into the far seat rather than the one next to his.

It’s only a short drive back to the hotel, and you spend it in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at Mason every now and then, unable to take your eyes away from him as the street lights shine through the windows, casting a golden glow over his features.

He turns his head suddenly, feeling the heat of your gaze, but you're quick to look away, cheeks blazing when you realise he’s caught you staring.

You start fiddling with your rings, one of the telltale signs that you’re nervous, but a warm hand intertwines with yours, stopping your fidgeting. Mason is already looking at you when you glance up at him, and your heart soars at the gentle look in his eyes. There’s a certain warmth behind them that tells you everything is okay, and you settle back into the seat, sliding your fingers between his and not letting go for the rest of the journey.

Mason is the first out of the car when you pull up in front of your hotel, quickly making his way around to your door before opening it for you and you accept the hand he holds out, letting him help you climb out. He quickly tips and thanks the driver before leading you into the hotel, through the lobby and towards the lifts.

You bid your good nights to Lewis when he steps out on his level, leaving you and Mason alone as the doors close behind him. You settle into another comfortable silence as you continue up to your floor.

The doors slide open and Mason moves aside, letting you step out in front of him before following you down the hall towards your room, wanting to make sure you get back safely.

You stop in front of your door, reaching into your purse to retrieve your room key before turning to thank him for walking you back, but the words get stuck on your tongue, not quite feeling ready to say goodnight to him yet.

“Stay with me tonight?” You whisper, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that has somehow been set in the hallway, “we can order room service and watch something, just like we do at home”

He doesn’t respond straight away, and for a very brief moment you worry that you’ve crossed some sort of line, but you watch as his gaze softens, and he keeps his voice low as he says “Let me just go and grab a few things from my room and then I’ll be back, yeah?”

“Okay” you nod, watching as he heads back down the hallway before letting yourself into your room.

You feel giddy, buzzing with nervous excitement as you slip Mason’s jacket off and lay it over the back of the chair before busying yourself with tidying a few things away, making the room look a bit more presentable as you’d left it a mess in your rush to leave earlier.

You’re not sure where the sudden jitters have come from, it’s Mason. You’ve always spent nights at each others houses, snuggled on the sofa, talking until late before falling asleep in each others company. But something about tonight feels different.

You don’t have long to dwell on it though, hearing two taps on the door as you put the last few bits back into your suitcase.

His smile is bright as you swing the door open, stepping aside for him to come in and your eyes drop to his chest as he brushes past you. He didn’t bother changing, but his tie is nowhere to be seen, the top few buttons of his shirt now undone and his silver chain - the one that you brought him for his birthday last year - peaks out from underneath the fabric.

You click the door closed behind him, following him into the room and watching as he puts a few things down on the table beside the bed - his charger and what you think is his toothbrush, along with his wallet and a spare change of clothes for the morning.

“So, room service?” He asks, flopping down onto the bed and settling against the headboard.

He makes himself comfortable, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to just below his elbows as you grab the food menu from the desk in front of the TV. Your breath catches in your throat when you turn to face him, your mouth going dry as the dark ink on his forearm steals your attention.

A smirk ghosts his lips upon noticing your brief loss of composure, but he chooses not to bring it up, instead patting the spot next him.

You slip off your heels, putting them to the side before climbing onto the mattress to sit beside him. “How about pizza? I’m not too hungry so maybe we could share?”

“Sounds good, chips as well?” He suggests and you agree, trying to pass him the menu but he doesn’t take it from you, “You choose, I’m not fussed”

You decide on a classic margherita, letting Mason call downstairs to place the order whilst you reach over him and grab the remote from the table next to his side of the bed. He sucks in a sharp breath when your hand falls on his upper thigh, not so innocently steadying yourself as you lean over him. You can’t say that you’d meant to touch him like that, but you won’t pretend that you didn’t love his reaction.

“Sorry” you mumble, cheeks flaming as you sit back and busy yourself with turning on the TV, logging into your Netflix account whilst he takes a deep breath next to you and finishes ordering the food.

You put on an episode of a series that you’ve been watching together, catching each other up on some plans that you have for the next couple of weeks whilst you wait for your food to arrive and you eat in a comfortable silence when it does, Mason letting you have the last slice of pizza like always.

After clearing away the tray and placing it in the hallway, you lock the door behind you and settle back onto the bed, tucking yourself into his side when he lifts his arm for you.

“Thank you for coming with us tonight. I know it’s a long way from home but it means a lot to have you at these things with me” He tells you, a warm feeling spreading through you as he pulls you closer and rests his cheek against the top of your head.

His arm settles around you, holding you at the waist as you rest your head against his shoulder. You sling your arm over his torso, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his free hand comes to rest on your forearm, fingertips tracing over your skin.

“Thank you again for inviting me, and you know I don’t mind” You tell him, tightening your arms around him slightly, “I’d fly to the other side of the world with you if you asked me to”

He chuckles into your hair, his smile widening. “Yeah? Looks like I should ask them to have the next gala in Australia then”

“Yes! You know I’ve always wanted to go and meet Kangaroos”

“It’s a long flight though, you’d have to let me sleep on your shoulder the whole way there”

“Oh,” you pout at him jokingly, “you wouldn’t buy me a business class ticket?”

His fingertips creep up your waist and you giggle, thrashing against him when they tickle over your skin through the material of your dress.

“I’ll take that as a no then” You sigh dramatically, slumping back into his arms when his fingers relent.

“I’d buy you as many business class tickets as you want, Bambi”

Here we go again with the butterflies.

You settle back into a comfortable silence, Mason keeping his arms locked around you as he tries to switch his focus back to the TV, but it’s impossible when you’re cuddled up to him so closely.

There’s something about being in your presence that makes him feel so calm. There’s no need for him to fake anything, no need for him to worry. He can just be ‘Mase’ without any added expectations or anyone analysing his every move. You accept him for him, and he thanks his lucky stars everyday that your parents met all of those years ago because he’s really not sure what he’d do without you.

But tonight he’s nervous. He’s not sure what it is because these feelings for you are by no means new, but after he nearly slipped up and kissed you once earlier, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself if it happens again.

He wants you. Physically, emotionally, whatever you’re willing to give him, he’d take it, and tonight might just be the night that he does.

He doesn’t realise that he’s been staring at you until you tilt your head to look up at him, having felt the heat of his gaze.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He whispers, a soft smile sitting on his lips.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as they drop down to your lips, only for a millisecond before returning to your own and your heart rate quickens, a giddy feeling spreading through you.

“Maybe a few times” you tease, lips curling into a smile, “but you can tell me again”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, “You look gorgeous, always the prettiest girl in the room” He tells you, heart thudding in his chest as a shaky hand comes up to cup your jaw.

His nose bumps against yours as he leans closer. His lips are mere inches away, your heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure he can probably hear it.

When you show no signs of hesitation he closes the distance, touching his lips to yours in a tender kiss that you feel all the way from your head down to the tips of your toes.

You feel yourself melting into him as he works his lips over yours with ease, one of his hands cupping your cheek as the other gently pushes against your hip, encouraging you to roll onto your back and your arms wind around his shoulders as he moves to hover over you.

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling of his lips against yours after what feels like an eternity of waiting for this exact moment, your hand weaving into the short strands of hair on the back of his head to hold him to you.

He keeps it soft, your whole body tingling from how gentle he’s being with you as his lips move over yours with a certain tenderness that has you craving more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that” He breathes, forehead resting against yours when you separate to catch your breaths.

His heart flip-flops in his chest at the smile that paints your lips, unable to prevent his own as you gaze up at him with twinkling eyes.

“Then who am I to stop you from doing it again?”

You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to close the distance again, but when he leans forward he brushes a kiss over your cheek instead, a whine leaving you as you try and chase his lips but he only pulls back further.

“I need to know that you definitely want this Y/N” he whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you, “I know I do, but I’ll never forgive myself if later on you realise that you don’t”

His voice sounds small, the confidence that he exuded earlier slowly fading away, and your heart aches as rest your head back into the pillows to look at him properly.

You slide your hand up from his shoulder, cradling his face in your palm and your heart soars when he leans into your touch.

“Mason, my whole life I’ve known it’s been you” You tell him, gently brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek and a soft smile finds his lips at your words. “I want this, I want you”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything” You whisper, watching as his features relax.

“I might have to change my mind if you don’t kiss me again though”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, not waiting another second before leaning back in.

It’s like someone has flipped a switch, all form of restraint gone as he claims your lips with a searing kiss that has your spine tingling. He coaxes your lips apart, easily slipping his tongue between them and he takes his time to explore your mouth, brushing his tongue over yours with slow, deliberate strokes.

His hand roams down your dress clad body, kneading into your skin through the satin like fabric and you arch your back into his touch, hands gripping onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to feel him closer. His warm palm slides over your hip, finding the bare skin of your thigh, exposed through the slit of your dress, and he hooks your leg over his waist.

You moan into his mouth as he presses his hips into yours, the sound going straight to his centre and his length twitches in the confines of his boxers.

“You definitely want to do this?” He asks between kisses, his lips leaving yours to move over your cheek and down to your jaw.

You nod, tilting your head back to allow him better access as he trails his kisses down your throat.

“I need your words, Y/N” he urges, pulling back to look at you.

“Yes Mason, please” You plead, just wanting to feel his lips on your skin again.

He doesn’t waste anymore time, dropping his head back into the crook of your neck and you shiver when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, his lips peppering kisses wherever he can reach and you whimper when finds your sweet spot, your sounds only encouraging him.

He sucks on the sensitive spot below your ear, teeth grazing over your skin before soothing the sting with his tongue and then he’s continuing his kisses down your body.

“As much as I love this dress on, I’d much rather it be off right now” he speaks when his kisses meet the neckline of your dress, the material obstructing his path and stopping him from going any further.

You attempt to reach behind you to undo the buttons that hold it together, but you can’t quite reach them, your position on the bed just leading to an awkward tangle of limbs. You huff out a breath, slumping back into the duvet as he watches you, clearly trying to hold himself back from laughing.

You send him an unimpressed glare, trying once more to reach behind but you only end up finding yourself in the same predicament as before.

“Help me” you pout, and he leans down to kiss it away, loosening his hold on your waist before getting off the bed.

“C’mon, jump up” He holds his hands out for you and you take them, letting him pull you up until you’re standing in front of him.

He moves you so that you’re stood with your back to his chest, his hands lightly brushing down your arms and you shiver under his touch, instinctively leaning back into his warmth.

“May I?” He asks softly, his breath tickling over your shoulder as he speaks.

“Y-yeah” you stutter, trying to steady your beating heart as he brushes your hair to one side.

He must notice the way you tense up as he reaches for the buttons, his lips pressing to your shoulder in an attempt to calm you.

“Relax sweetheart, it’s just me” he whispers, and you force yourself to take a deep breath.

But what if that’s the issue? It’s just him, just Mason. The man you’ve loved for years. You’re comfortable in your body, but what if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he changes his mind? What if -

Your thoughts are cut off when he gently takes a hold of your waist, turning you around to face him and you’re met with his soft expression, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” He whispers, trying to meet your gaze but you look down, eyes focussing on his chest as a wave of shyness washes over you.

“Hey, look at me” He says, keeping his voice gentle as he brings two fingers to lightly nudge your chin so that you look at him again.

“Sorry, I just…” you begin, and he’s patient with you when you stop to take a few deep breaths, “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s just- the last guy I was with like this wasn’t the nicest and he had a fair amount of things to say about my body and - god I’m so sorry” You quickly cut yourself off when you notice you’re rambling, cheeks flaming when you release what you’ve just admitted to him.

Mason feels his heart breaking more and more with every word that leaves your lips. He could never understand how anybody could be so cruel. He feels himself growing angry at the thought of anyone treating you that way and frustrated with himself for not being able to protect you from someone like that.

He knows deep down that there’s nothing he could’ve done to stop it, but you should’ve never had to go through that, and it pains him to know that someone hurt you so deeply.

He doesn’t let his feelings show though, instead making a promise to himself to never, ever, make you feel anything less than beautiful. You deserve so much more and he’s ready to show you just how perfect you are and treat you the way you deserve.

“Listen to me angel, you have nothing to apologise for okay?” his voice is firm, making sure you’re looking right at him before continuing.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. No one should’ve treated you that way. You deserve so much more baby. You are the most beautiful person I have ever set my eyes on Y/N, and I need you to know that I’d never treat you like that.” He tells you, cradling your cheeks in his palms as he rests his forehead against yours.

You nod as best as you can, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your smile as his words sink in.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight Y/N, if you don’t want to we can just watch another movie or something, I won’t be upset. All I want is for you to feel comfortable.”

Your nodding quickly turns into you shaking your head instead.

“No Mase, I want to do this. I want you.” You reassure him and he leans back slightly, leaving a lingering kiss to your forehead before lowering his hands to your waist again.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course” you tell him, gulping down the nervous lump in your throat and willing your heart rate to slow down.

“Okay, you still want me to take this off?”

His fingers fiddle with the thin straps of your dress as you nod, trying not to seem to eager. “Please”

“Turn around for me then angel”

You do just that, turning around so that your back is facing him again and his touch is gentle, barely there as he reaches up to brush your hair to the side once more. His lips find the nape of your neck, scattering kisses over your skin, and this time you don’t tense up as he reaches for the fabric.

He’s slow in releasing the buttons, his fingers skimming over your now exposed skin as he takes his time, undoing them one by one before finally reaching the last after what feels like a life time. His lips never leave your skin as his hands lift to brush the straps off of your shoulders, guiding the material down your body before dropping it to pool around your ankles.

Left in nothing but a pair of black, lacy panties, it takes all of your strength to turn and face him. He takes you in, allowing his gaze to drift down your body and he feels himself twitch in the confines of his boxers. The sight of you bare in front of him makes his head spin, feeling overwhelmed by the need to reach out and touch you.

“So fucking pretty” he murmurs, his words setting your body alight as his hand slays out on your waist.

There’s a bright look in his eyes as he draws you closer, guiding you to step out of your dress, and you forget why you were ever worried.

“Thank you for trusting me” he whispers against your temple, scattering featherlight kisses there as you lean further into his body.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he trails his kisses down your face, over your cheeks before landing on your lips.

You melt into him, his grip keeping you upright as you kiss him back with everything you have. Your hands creep up his back, one finding its way into his hair as the other clutches onto his shoulder. Nails dig into his skin through the material of his shirt but he doesn’t care, losing himself in the feeling of your lips on his.

Your fingers rake through his hair, tilting his head to get a better angle and his lips part on a gasp when your nails scratch over his scalp. You take the opportunity to slip your tongue between his lips, clashing with his own as you fight to take control.

It’s a little messy, but neither of you care, years of pent up feelings and frustrations being poured into the kiss until the burning desire to please him becomes too strong to ignore.

“You’ve still got way too many clothes on” you complain between kisses and he chuckles against your lips, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

“No, sit” you say, and he falls back onto the edge of the mattress with a gentle push of your hands against his shoulders.

He leans back, gazing up at you through his lashes, watching with dark eyes as you settle into his lap with a new found confidence.

You leave enough space between you to reach up and fiddle with his buttons, undoing them one by one as your lips scatter kisses over his jaw. His pulls you forwards by your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you continue to undress him.

You struggle a little due to how close you are, but you manage to get the last few buttons undone, working the shirt off his shoulders. It gets discarded behind you, joining your dress on the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

His shoulders flex as he leans back on his hands and you take him in, eyes dragging down his chest from the chain that dangles around his neck to the small tattoo that sits high on his ribs, there’s a light dusting of hair on his chest, his muscles softly toned.

You’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, but sitting under you now he has you unable to think straight. You have never been so turned on just by looking at someone.

Your need to please him becomes stronger by the second, your mouth having a mind of its own as you trail your kisses down his neck, lighting sucking on his skin until you find his sweet spot. A breathy whine falls from his lips, his fingers digging into your hips a little tighter and that’s when you know you’ve found it, your lips closing over the most sensitive patch of skin.

Your lips graze over the area, licking and nipping as you make your way down to his collarbones, careful not to leave any marks where they may be visible.

He shivers, trembling under your touch as your hands slide down from his shoulders and over his chest, your lips following their path. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tease at the skin right next to his nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a sneaky mark before continuing down to his tummy, making sure to pay special attention to any moles or freckles that you find on your way.

Your legs feel like jelly as you climb off his lap and lower to your knees in front of him, hands pushing his thighs apart to allow you enough space to settle between them. The carpet is rough against your skin, but you can’t bring your self to care as you shuffle around to get more comfortable.

He isn’t without your touch long, his muscles fluttering under your fingers as you graze your lips over the soft ridges of his abs, placing open mouthed kisses along the waist band of his trousers until he grows impatient, his hands aimlessly reaching for his belt.

“Let me” you murmur, moving his hands back to rest by his sides before finding the buckle.

You’re slow in pulling it from the loops, taking your time as you drop it behind you and move to undo the button and zipper, dragging it down at an agonisingly slow pace before sitting back and allowing him to lift his hips. You drag the fabric down his legs along with his boxers, mouth watering as his already hard length springs free from the confines of the fabric.

“Much better,” you drawl, and he lets out a whimper as your lips kiss a path along the inside of his thigh, ignoring the area he needs you the most before moving to the other.

“Y/N, please do something” he pleads, but you don’t need to be told twice, his thighs jumping when a dainty hand wraps around the base of his cock.

He feels thick and heavy in your palm when you give him an experimental tug, glancing up through your lashes to see his eyes fluttering closed, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

“Feel good, Mase?” You coo, and his eyes pop open again, the sight of you on your knees between his legs making him feel light headed.

“S-so good” he stutters, hips raising to meet your hand as you twist it over him again before releasing him all together.

You run your fingertips over the underside of his length and he lets out a breathy moan of your name, the sound going straight to your core as you swirl your fingers over his tip and smear the drop of pre cum that’s collected there.

“Fuck, Y/N” he curses, struggling to keep his eyes open as you move your hand back to his base, holding him steady as you lower your head, lips wrapping around his tip.

You flick your tongue over his slit, humming as the salty taste of his pre cum coats your tastebuds and he drops back, resting on his elbows and watching as you take more of him.

You relax your jaw, moving further down his length and taking as much of him as you can whilst your hand works what you can’t fit in your mouth. The sinful sounds that leave his lips only spur you on, continuing to bob your head as you gaze up at him through your lashes.

“Oh my-, fucking hell” he pants, his hand reaching for the back of your head to gather your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. “You’re so good at that”

His eyes squeeze closed when you take him even further and you gag, eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat before pulling back to catch your breath.

Your hands keep up their movements, twisting and tugging until you take him into your mouth again and you let him guide you this time, hollowing your cheeks as he lowers your mouth down his length.

You brace your free hand against his thigh, letting him pick up the pace slightly as you work him towards his release.

“Gonna make me come, Y/N” he sighs, the feeling of your warm mouth around him sending him hurtling towards his orgasm.

“I’ve got you, Mase, come for me” you coo, and he fights to keep his hips still as you pay attention to his head again, tongue swirling over his tip.

One final flick of your tongue over his slit and he’s cuming into your mouth with a grunt, hand tightening in your hair as you work him through his high, swallowing every last drop. You only move away when his hips start bucking from the sensitivity, leaving one final kiss to his tip before sitting back on your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.

After a few moments of comfortable silence he smiles down at you softly, reaching out for you and you take his hands, standing on shaky legs before lowering yourself back into his lap.

“You okay?” he asks and you nod, leaning into his touch when he cups his hand over your jaw.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his tongue moving over yours and he hums when he tastes himself on your mouth.

His hands trail up your thighs until he finds your panties, hooking his fingers under the fabric, pulling them back before releasing them to snap against your skin.

“Lets get these off” He mumbles, helping you climb off his lap and you move to stand in front of him, shimmying the scrap of lace down your legs as he watches you with crazed eyes until you’re completely bare in front of him.

“Lay down for me” he requests and you do as he asks, sinking back into the duvet as you rest your head against the pillows.

You watch as he stands, walking around the bed to pick his wallet up from the pile of stuff he brought with him earlier and he pulls out a shiny foil packet before climbing back onto the bed.

“Not so fast, baby girl” he tuts as you reach for it, trying to take it from between his fingers, but he places it to the side instead.

“Lay back and let me love on you a little bit”

He moves to hover over you and his lips are on yours in an instant, staying there for just a moment before trailing his kisses over your jaw and neck, sucking lightly and nibbling on your delicate skin as he makes his way down your throat.

“Mase” The moan tumbles from your lips, nails scratching the skin on the back of his neck as you bring your hand up in a desperate attempt to move him lower.

“What do you want, Angel?” He coos, voice vibrating against your skin as he kisses over your collar bones.

“Y-you, please”

“Patience, baby. Let me take my time with you”

And take his time with you he does, his lips dragging over every inch of skin that he can reach as he learns and memorises all of your favourite spots, the ones that have you making those sweet little noises he’s loving so much.

He mouths over your chest, kissing from one side to the other before closing his lips over your nipple and your back arches to meet his mouth as he licks over the sensitive nub, his hand sliding up your body to pay attention to the other. He gropes at your skin, pinching and tugging at your nipple before switching sides to pay them equal attention.

His other hand stays steady on your waist as his lips continue south, keeping you pressed into the mattress when his beard scratches over your delicate skin, causing you to squirm against him.

“Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” He asks, and you glance down at him, mind reeling as he gazes back at you through his lashes.

You nod vigorously, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slides his hands up the insides of your thighs, separating them enough to settle between them and his breath fans over your core as he inches closer.

“Fuck, look at you” he coos, teasing two fingers through your folds to collect your wetness and your brain short circuits when he takes them between his lips, humming as you coat his tastebuds.

“Taste incredible”

He uses the same two fingers to circle over your clit, waves of pleasure shooting up your spine, and you can’t help the pathetic moan that falls from your lips, head dropping back against the pillows as he shuffles closer.

“Feel good, Angel?” He hums, his lips ghosting over the inside of your thigh.

“Yes Mase, fuck. More” you plead, and his mouth finally meets your centre, a barely there kiss being pressed to your clit before he licks a long stripe up your entrance.

His hands move to hold your hips down as he eats you out like you’re his last meal, no longer wanting to hold back and your moans only encourage him. He alternates between licking and sucking, sealing his lips around your little bundle of nerves before dropping to dip his tongue inside of you, his nose nudging against your clit which has you moaning uncontrollably, back arching to meet his mouth.

Your hands fly to the back of his head, needing something to hold onto, and he hums against you when you tug on his hair, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure that you’re feeling.

You’re unable to think straight, the feeling of his mouth against your core making you forget about everything other then him and how good he’s making you feel, and it’s not long until you feel your orgasm creeping up.

“Mase, oh fuck” you sigh, and when he brings a hand between you to slip a finger through your folds, you’re done for.

His other arm hooks under your thigh, holding you open for him as he slips his finger inside of you, pumping it a few times to stretch you out before adding another.

“I’m gonna cum, Mase, oh my god” you whine, and he doesn’t relent, pulsing his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem with them as he swirls it around your bundle of nerves.

“Let go for me, baby” he encourages, and you cum on his tongue as he suctions his lips around your clit, seeing stars as your orgasm hits you like a wave.

He works you through it, licking you clean until you’re tugging at his hair and he moves away, crawling back up your body.

You lay limp underneath him, eyes closed and lips parted as you catch your breath, feeling well and truly spent from the orgasm he just gave you. Your cheeks are flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, and your make up is slightly smudged, but he still swears that he’s never seen anyone more beautiful, his heart fluttering at the sight of you underneath him.

“So pretty” he murmurs, peppering kisses over your cheeks and the butterflies - the ones that have made a permanent home in your stomach - come back out in full force.

You flutter your eyes open and the twinkle that you find in his own has your insides turning to warm, bubbly liquid, his expression swimming with fondness.

“How are you feeling, baby?” He asks, shuffling slightly so that he can rest his weight against one elbow before trailing his free hand up your thigh, massaging your hips where he was gripping before.

“Good” you smile up at him, fingers toying with the chain that still sits around his neck, “More than good, actually. But there is one thing that would make me feel even better”

He raises an eye brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

You gather as much strength as you can in your post orgasm daze, hooking your legs over his waist to pull his hips down into yours and his eyes widen, realising what you mean.

“Needy girl” he tuts, hissing when you grind your hips and his hard length grazes over your core, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Please Masey. Need to feel you”

“I know baby girl, I’ve got you. Just relax for me”

He gives you a quick yet tender kiss before reaching over to pick up the foil packet from earlier and you shiver as he tears it open, squirming in anticipation as he sits back on his feet and pulls out the condom to roll it down his length.

“You still want to do this?” He asks you for what seems like the tenth time that evening, looking at you with soft eyes.

“Mase, what kind of question is that?” You chuckle, hand coming to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch when you brush your thumb over his skin gently, “Of course I do”

“Just double checking, Angel” he rests his forehead against yours, nose nudging your cheek and your heart soars at the softness of the moment.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, Mase. Need you”

You wrap your arms around his shoulder as he settles on top of you, spreading your legs for him to rest between as he finds a position that’s comfortable.

He runs a gentle, comforting hand over the outside of your thigh, using the other to guide himself towards your entrance and you suck in a breath as he lines himself up, his tip nudging against your slit.

Your quick intake of breath has his eyes snapping up to yours, concern etched onto his features. “What wrong, baby?”

“Nothings wrong” you reassure him, one of your hands finding its rightful place tangled in his hair, “It’s just been a while, just go slowly please?”

“We’ll go at your pace, baby. Just tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, okay?”

“Okay”

You reach down, encouraging him to move with a slow twist of your hand over his length and his lips are back on yours when he lines himself up with your entrance, swallowing your moans as he pushes in until only his tip is buried inside of you.

He gives you a few moments to adjust, not liking how you wince from the slight stretch, but you only nod up at him, encouraging him to keep going and you moan in unison when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. So tight baby” he moans, his raspy voice right next to your ear.

“Let me know when I can move” his thumb brushes in tender circles over your hip, his other hand pressing into the mattress next to your head and you reach for it, unwinding one of your arms from around his shoulders to side your fingers through his.

Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him in a way that has pleasure shooting up his spine and he drops his head into the crook of his neck when you give him the go ahead to start moving.

He keeps his pace slow at first, gauging what you enjoy and what’s comfortable. A slow push and pull of his hips as you learn each others bodies.

“You feel incredible, Angel” he grunts, head dipping into the crook of your neck as his hips press into you with every thrust.

“Mason, fuck” You scratch your nails over his skin, back arching as he gives one particularly hard thrust that has his tip brushing over your sweet spot, “right there”

“There?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits it again, a desperate moan leaving your lips as he keeps pushing deeper.

“Y-yeah, faster Mase, p-please”

Your stuttered request is barely audible over the sound of your moans but he hears you just fine, picking up his pace as you wrap your legs around his waist and the new angle allows him to hit deeper, finding that sweet spot with every roll of his hips.

Every single thrust feels incredible, his fingers now digging into your waist to hold you steady. The sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard as he works you both towards your highs.

“Fuck, Mase, I’m nearly there” you pant, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm and the feeling of him everywhere sending you hurtling towards your realise sooner than you’d expected.

“I’m right behind you, baby” he groans, pulling his head out of your neck when you tug on his hair, wanting to see him when you cum.

He looks ethereal on top of you, the bridge of his nose flushed as well as his cheeks, his hair a mess and falling over his forehead as that chain dangles between you. You reach for it, using it to tug him down and his lips collide with yours in a heated kiss.

“Mason…” you sob, unable to take your eyes off of his when he rests his forehead against yours.

“I know baby, I’ve got you. Let go for me” he encourages, his thumb finding your clit and that’s all you need to go falling over the edge, walls contracting around him as your orgasm hits you.

A wave of white hot pleasure rolls through you, your entire body trembling against him as he works you through it.

He isn’t far behind, pressing his hips to yours as the feeling of your walls fluttering around his length sends him toppling over the edge with a moan of your name.

His thrusts grow sloppy, hips faltering as he thrusts through it, thumb continuing to brush over your clit until you’re pushing his hand away when you get too sensitive.

With one final thrust he goes limp on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, spent from his orgasm. Your hand finds the back of his head, lightly scratching over his scalp as you both take a moment to catch your breaths. Neither of you make any effort to move for a while, Mason staying buried inside of you whilst your heart beats return to a steady pace.

You wince from the sensitivity when he eventually moves to pull out of you slowly, the kisses that he litters over your forehead soothing you before he discards the condom and collapses onto the mattress beside you.

He reaches towards the end of the bed, pulling up the blanket and you don’t hesitate to shuffle into his arms when he opens them for you, settling against his side with your head resting against his chest as he holds you close.

He knows that he should get you cleaned up, but he can’t bring himself to move as you snuggle into him, one arm draped over his waist and a leg hooked over his thighs, so he lets you get comfortable against him, enjoying the warmth of your body pressed into his.

A couple of minuets pass and you stay in a comfortable silence, fiddling with his chain as you rest on his chest, growing more tired by the second as his fingers sooth over your skin. He wishes you could stay like that for the rest of the night, not wanting to disturb you, but when you start to grow heavy against him he knows he needs to get you up before you fall asleep completely.

“Come on” he hums, lightly tapping your shoulder to encourage you to move. “Got to get you cleaned up, bubba”

You don’t make any effort to move, quite content with staying in his arms and not leaving for the foreseeable future.

“I’m tired” You groan as he resorts to gently pushing you off of him, rolling off the bed completely before holding his hands out for you to take, but you bury your face into the pillows and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, missing his warmth immediately.

The bed dips under his weight as he kneels back onto the mattress, hands massaging into your shoulders before rolling you over to face him.

You pout up at him, shaking your head in protest. You know you’ll regret it in the morning if you go straight to sleep without properly getting ready for bed, but nothing sounds better than climbing back under the sheets with him and falling asleep.

“I know, but the quicker we get in that shower the quicker we can get back into bed” he tells you softly, fingers brushing your hair out of your face as you gaze up at him sleepily. “Let me take care of you, bubs”

His gentle smile and sweet words are enough to have you crumbling, holding your arms out for him and he doesn’t need to ask to understand what you want.

He effortlessly scoops you up, a kiss being pressed to your temple as he cradles you in his arms and carries you through to the en-suite bathroom, careful to avoid the clothes that are still scattered around the floor.

He switches the bathroom lights on, keeping them on the dim setting when he notices you squinting from the brightness and moves to set you down on the counter.

Reaching to the side, he picks up your make up bag, looking through it to find some of your makeup wipes before taking one out of the packet. You try and take it from him but he swats your hand away, tilting your chin up with his fingers before bringing the wipe to your cheek.

Your heart flutters at how gentle he’s being with you as he takes his time, swiping the wipe over your skin as he makes sure to get every last bit of makeup. His little focused face makes you giggle, his tongue popping out from between his lips as he concentrates, being extra careful when he gets to your eyes.

He presses a tender kiss to your lips once he’s finished, throwing the wipe into the bin before turning around to get the shower started and your mouth dries at the sight of his back when he faces away from you.

Red scratches decorate his skin, some travelling as high as his neck and you watch as his back flexes when he reaches for the taps to set the water temperature. You feel yourself heat from head to toe at the sight, struggling to keep your composure when he turns to face you again, instantly noticing your flushed cheeks.

“What’s up, bubba?” He asks, hands coming to rest on your hips as he moves to stand between your spread legs.

“I don’t think you should let anyone else see you shirtless for a couple of days” You tell him, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back a giggle.

“Why? What did you do?”

He moves away from you to look at his reflection in the mirror, eye brows furrowing when he doesn’t find any hickeys or marks like he had expected to.

He looks back to you confused, but you wiggle your finger in a circle, telling him to turn around. He does, looking back at his reflection over his shoulder and you can see the moment he realises, his jaw dropping slightly as he takes in the scratches and marks left by your nails.

“You really didn’t hold back did you?”

“Sorry”

“Don’t be. Just means that I made you feel good” he says with confidence, winking at you with a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

You swat at his chest, not needing to admit that he’s right because you both already know the answer.

He holds a hand out for you, helping you off the counter and steadying you when you stand on wobbly legs, your body aching in the best way possible as he guides you towards the shower.

He steps in behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and your body slumps into his, face finding a home in the crook of his neck as the water cascades over you.

“You okay?” He mumbles right next to your ear and you nod in response, letting out a content sigh as you nuzzle into his skin.

You stay like that for a while, the water soothing your aching bodies before he reaches over and takes your travel sized shampoo from the little shelf behind you. He squeezes a generous amount into his palm, lathering it up before bringing his hands to your hair and you hold onto his waist, needing something to steady yourself as the feeling of his fingers massaging your scalp sends you into a state of complete bliss.

He rinses it out after a couple of minuets - still way too soon for your liking - and repeats the process with your conditioner, letting you do the same thing for him.

As soon as you’re both washed off he gets out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before taking another and holding it out for you. Getting out behind him, you step into the towel, letting him wrap it around your shoulders.

You both get dried off, changing into the fluffy hotel robes before he moves to leave the bathroom, wanting to give you some privacy to finish up your nighttime routine, but you take a hold of his hand, not wanting him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere, bubs” he reassures, noticing a faint look of panic on your features. He slides his fingers between yours, giving them a tight squeeze, “I’m just going to tidy the clothes up and grab you something to sleep in okay? I’ll be back in a few minuets”

“Okay, sorry” you mumble, loosening your grip on his hand, feeling silly for getting so paranoid all of a sudden. “I just don’t want you to leave”

His expression softens. “I’m not leaving, Bambi. I promise. Could never leave you”

He presses a series of kisses to your face, one to your forehead, one to your cheek, one of your nose - that one has you giggling - and finally one to your lips, making sure that you’re smiling again when he disappears into the bedroom.

You busy yourself with drying your hair whilst he picks up your abandoned clothes, placing them into a neater pile next to your suitcase so that they can be dealt with in the morning.

He grabs the spare blanket from the wardrobe and puts it on the bed, switching the main lights off so that only the beside lamp is left on before changing into his clean pair of boxers and finding his toothbrush and the t-shirt that he brought with him earlier.

You’re just turning the hair dryer off when he comes back into the bathroom, brushing through your hair as he places his toothbrush next to yours on the counter. The sight of them next to each other has your heart flip-flopping in your chest, the action oddly domestic.

The multiple bottles and pots of skin care products that you have laid out catch his attention when he comes to stand beside you and he picks one up, reading over the bottle curiously.

“What’s all this?”

“You don’t know?” You meet his eyes through the reflection, surprised when he shakes his head in response. But his skin is always so clear?

“Can you show me?” He asks timidly, watching as you nod before jumping up onto the counter again.

You spread your legs, pulling him to step between them and his hands rest against your thighs as you pick up the first bottle, squeezing some of the serum onto your fingers before massaging it into his face. His eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation of you working the products into his skin, tracing the contours of his face as you tell him what each product is and explain what it’s used for.

He listens to your every word, loving how passionate you seem about it and making a mental note to ask you what they are again in the morning, so that he can buy some of the products for himself and keep some at his house for when you stay over.

You finish up with one of your favourite moisturisers before running through the same routine on yourself, letting Mason help when he insists and enjoying the feeling of being pampered by him.

“Thank you” you mumble, leaning forward to brush your lips over his in a soft kiss and he reciprocates, stepping back to allow you to jump off the counter when you pull away.

“Here, put this on” he says, handing you the t-shirt that he brought in, and you happily change into it, his scent lingering on the fabric and filling your senses as the material falls to your upper thigh.

The sight of you in his clothes is one he wants to see for the rest of his life.

You stand side by side at the sink and brush your teeth together, pulling faces at each other through the mirror as you do before following him back through to the bedroom.

You climb into bed first, getting comfortable under the duvet as he plugs his phone in to charge, begrudgingly setting an alarm for the morning. You both know it’ll be a struggle to wake up, but your flight back up to Manchester leaves at 10am, and you still need to make it to the airport before then.

But that’s a problem for the morning. All you’re concerned about now is holding him.

He settles under the sheets next to you, cuddling into your open arms and sliding you closer with an arm hooked over your waist. Your legs tangle together, bodies pressed close as he snuggles into you, his head finding it’s home in the crook of your neck.

He sighs contentedly, melting into you as you rest a hand on his arm and trace the outlines of his tattoos with your fingertips, his own sneaking under your (his) t-shirt to draw random patterns onto the soft skin of your tummy.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in weeks. The feeling of being in your arms bringing him a sense of comfort that he never thought possible, but he knows you still have something to talk about, and he’s about to bring it up when you beat him to it.

“What does this mean?” You whisper, the question that’s been on your mind for the past half an hour finally slipping through your lips as you raise your free hand and brush your fingers through his hair.

“It means I’m yours Y/N” he mumbles into your skin before pulling his head from your neck. He shuffles up your body slightly, moving so that he’s hovering above you. “If you’ll have me”

Your hand moves from his hair to instead cup his jaw, your fingertips lightly scratching through his beard as you gently pull him down to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

“I like you, like a lot” you tell him when you separate, but you keep him close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders

“I’m way beyond like, baby” He admits, a soft smile tugging at his lips and he knows it’s soon, but his heart feels like it’s bursting, and he can’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m in love with you Y/N, I have been for a long time”

He watches you carefully, waiting for any kind of reaction, and he’s a little worried when you don’t have one, your face staying neutral as his words sink in.

But then comes the smile, your lips tilting up as a look of complete and utter joy paints your features.

You’re overwhelmed by different emotions, cheeks hurting from how wide you’re smiling and you can’t help but lean up and press your lips to his again, stealing his breath away with a searing kiss.

The taste of your minty toothpaste still lingers on his tongue when he pushes it through the seem of your lips, working it against yours in slow, languid strokes as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, his fingers gently tilting your head back and your hand slides around to the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair.

Your chest is heaving when you eventually pull back, looking up up at him through your lashes as you catch your breath. His lips are swollen, cheeks flushed and his damp hair messy from you running your fingers through it.

“You don’t have to say it back, I know you might not feel the same but I-“

“Mason, are you kidding me?” You cut him off, cupping his face in both of your palms. “I’m so in love with you”

A breath of relief leaves his parted lips upon hearing your words, his heart rate settling as you look up at him with twinkling eyes.

“I always have been, Mase. You mean absolutely everything to me”

“Yeah?”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding up at him with complete certainty.

“Mason you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve never felt this way before and I know that I won’t feel it for anyone other than you. You’re it for me”

His eyes shine with emotion, his jaw aching from how hard he’s smiling. He feels like he’s floating, your words putting him on cloud nine.

“I love everything about you, Y/N. You’re so fucking beautiful, but it’s not just that. You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re funny, you make me feel wanted in a way I’ve never experienced before, I’ve waited my whole life for this and now that I have you, I’m never letting you go”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours Masey”

You lean up, pressing your lips to his in one final kiss and when he rolls off of you, you move with him. He lays back against the mattress, arms opening wide for you to climb into and you settle against his chest as he adjusts the duvet over you.

“When we get home I’m taking you on a date” he tells you, and you tilt your head up to look at him. “I know you’re already mine, but I want to do this properly, and that includes you letting me spoil you”

Mine. You want to hear it over and over.

“Can I choose the restaurant?” You query, already making a mental list of places that you could go.

“Only if you let me choose the movie when we get back to mine after”

“Who said that I’ll be going back to yours?”

“Just because it’s our ‘first’ -” he lifts his hand, making air quotes, “ - date that doesn’t mean I’m going to do the gentlemanly thing and drop you home with a kiss to your cheek after”

“Looks like you’re picking the movie then” You pat his chest, giggling as he mumbles a quiet ‘good’ and you settle back onto his arms with a yawn.

He leans over to turn the lamp off, the room overcome with complete darkness as he pulls the blankets up to your chin.

“Get some sleep, bubba. Early start tomorrow” He whispers with a kiss to your forehead and you groan into his chest.

“Don’t remind me. Can’t we just stay here forever?”

That really does sound like the best idea ever. Here. As in the little bubble that you’ve built together in this hotel room. You’re not ready for it to pop.

“I wish we could Bambi, but I want to get home and take you on that date”

“I wonder what Lewis will say” you murmur.

Your families have been rooting you you both to get together for years, so you know he’ll be happy for you, but telling him as well as the rest of your families somehow seems really scary.

“Well, I was thinking-“

“Oh no” you cut him off, and he chuckles, chest rumbling under your cheek.

“How about we keep this to ourselves for a bit?” He suggests, fingers sliding between yours where they lay against his chest. “No one needs to know just yet, we’ll just take it slow and tell them when we’re ready”

“I like the sound of that. Just me and you for a little while”

“Exactly” he sighs, already looking forward to getting you home and exploring this new dynamic with you.

He feels whole as he glances down at you through the darkness, a wide smile painting his lips and he doesn’t think it’ll be leaving any time soon. He’s spent what feels like a life time waiting for this, waiting for his person, waiting for you. He’s not sure he’s ever been happier than he feels in this moment, all of his worries forgotten about as you lay in his arms.

He can just about manage to make out your features and his heart is bursting at the seams with love for you as he leans down to press another kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Bambi”

“Night, Mase. Love you”

———————

a/n: If you have made it this far I just want to say a massive THANK YOU! I really do hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻 Feedback is appreciated as always 🤍

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount fic #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount concepts #mason concepts

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paishowhitelotus · 7 months

Text

Rewatched book 1 after watching the live action and here is a list of everything that wasn’t in the live action that I think should have been :

Sokkas war paint

Saying the words “hair loopies”

Barely seeing the boomerang

Katara being able to calm down aang during the avatar state

The comet

Importance of mastering all 4 elements

Sokka dressing in kyoshi warrior clothing and learning the strength of women (removing and growing from his sexist beliefs)

Zukos honor /destiny (think it’s mentioned once?)

Mouthfoaming guy

Aang water bending

Roku manifesting and telling jeong jeong to teach aang firebending

Aang trying fire bending too soon and burning katara which leads to him being hesitant on learning firebending in book 3

Katara finding out about her healing abilities

Aang being selfish by keeping location of Sokka and kataras father from them

Aangs crush on katara

Aang doing everything he Can to heal his friends in the swamp

"Miyuki, did you get in trouble with Fire Nation again?”

Rokus dragon

Aang dealing with the guilt of leaving the southern air temple and all his people getting killed and not accepting his role as avatar

Sokkas intuition for recognizing Jets deceit

Sokka being a natural inventor (it’s barely even touched in the live action) Sokka is smart and creative

Katara’s dedication to learning water bending by stealing the scroll

Katara’s jealousy of aang being able to bend and learn faster than her

Kataras fierce determination and her take no shit personality

The cruelty of the fire nation by imprisoning earth benders into work camps (this is just one example)

Katara’s selflessness and bravery by getting herself imprisoned in the war camp and saving all the prisoners shows how much empathy Katara feels for people and always wanting to help those who can’t help themselves

Showing how master jeong jeong and others left the fire nations army because of its cruelty (fire nation people can be good and recognize the evil in their own ranks)

How aang feels upset about the disrespect and condition of the northern air temple/legacy of his people but accepts it in the end knowing they need this temple as their home

Using the fallen war balloon to create a fleet of airships in the final battle with Ozai

Appa being a badass and also fighting to protect aang multiple times

Iroh and his white lotus tile (this is important foreshadowing for later seasons)

The healer in the northern water tribe recognizing the betrothal necklace and realizing it belonged to her friend and kataras grandmother, kanna, who was engaged to master pakku of the northern tribe but left to live in the South Pole

Katara confronting pakku and telling him “I’ll be outside if you’re man enough to fight me” ( the challenge is off screen in live action, dumb choice tbh just glad we got to see the physical fight at least)

Pakku finding the betrothal necklace and talking about kanna and katara saying her gran left because “she wouldn’t let your stupid tribes customs control her life” which in turn makes pakku reconsider and start teaching katara waterbending

Pakku complementing kataras skill saying she’s has advanced faster than any other student he has trained (this shows how great and powerful of a water bender she truly is)

How strong the water benders are at night especially during the full moon

How the moon was the first water bender

Zuko kidnapping aangs body while he is in the spirit world

“You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun”

Not showing emotion to koh cause he’ll steal your face

Zuko talking to unconscious aang telling him how everything always came easy to his sister, she’s a firebending prodigy. Ozai telling Zuko that azula was “born lucky while Zuko was lucky to be born” (another instance of ozai’s cruelty as a father)

Talking about how iroh has been to the Spirit world

Zuko trying to challenge katara during a FULL MOON” “Here for a rematch?” “Trust me Zuko it’s not going to be much of a match” and then her kicking his ass in 5 seconds

Aang showing compassion to Zuko by saving him again despite Zuko kidnapping his body

Iroh staying with katara Sokka and yue after the moon spirit is killed (this shows his heart)

Yues body disappearing and her spirit kissing Sokka and her saying “I’ll always be with you”

The ocean spirit grabbing zhao and dragging him into the sea

Pakku wanting to help rebuild the southern water tribe

Pakku Calling her Master katara and saying she’ll train aang from now on

Azula appearing at the end and Ozai sending her on a task because Zuko is a failure and iroh is a traitor

#if something that is listed here was shown then oops my bad g #avatar the last airbender #atla #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #azula #ozai #fire lord ozai #iroh #zhao #netflix avatar #natla

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f4nrir · 1 year

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making miguel grind against your shoe like a pathetic dog in heat >< hes soo cute i wanna humiliate him </33

— pairing ; miguel o'hara x male reader

note: this turned out longer than i had anticipated it to be, oops.

cw: sub!miguel, dom!reader, teasing, denial.

you were flipping through the papers on your desk, eyes glued to your work and focus remaining untouched. miguel on the other hand has been begging for your attention for over an hour, frequently checking up on you to see if you were done. you knew why he kept coming back and his need for you led him here, bulge pinned against your shoe and rutting against you.

“please, it’s been over an hour. can you just finish this la–” you interrupted him, “no, miguel. you know how busy i am.” you truly were busy but this was mostly out of your own entertainment. seeing him pathetically attempt to get himself off just by using the friction of your shoe was a lovely sight, enjoying the whines that left his mouth which eventually lead to tears streaming down his face.

underneath your desk were filled with quiet sobs and miguel clinging onto your leg as he continued to move against you, still unable to give himself the relief he needed. “oh baby, you need me that badly?” you turned your focus on him and he rapidly nodded his head, whines continuing further as it only progressed to be louder.

“please, please! more, i can’t go further without your touch…” he mumbled against your knee, rutting his hips in a faster and harsher pace. you ran your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands out of his face to see his eyes. they were lustful and showed the color of deep crimson, realizing what time of month it was for him. “no wonder why you’re so desperate, hm?” his grip tightened on your leg as you pushed your shoe further against his erection, gently moving it in one area before trailing it down further. he placed his hand on your lap, attempting to find your bulge but you swat his hand away and grabbed a fistful of his hair to make him look at you. “did i say you could touch?”

he whimpered underneath you, shaking his head no and you let go of his hair. miguel waited for your command or thought you were going to do something but you gave him a look that shot his hopes down. “well? keep moving, i didn’t tell you to stop.” he heaved a defeated sigh before moving once again, locking eye contact with you. you placed your hand on his jaw; thumb tracing his lips as you examined his sharp fangs that revealed themselves from your touch. he enveloped your thumb with his mouth, sucking on it in an attempt to please you. “such a desperate whore you are, miguel. you truly are pathetic, huh?” he moaned in agreement, continuing his movements.

you glanced at your shoe and noticed a stain you didn't like; knowing that you had spent a good fortune on the patent leather. he felt your demeanor change, fear instilling in his eyes as you grabbed his hair to push his face down on your shoe. “look at the mess you made, clean it up.”

tags : @demovamp @fatigueeed @luvrbucks @he11mouth @sad1st1c-wh0re

#— zeppelin’s files 📁#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #male reader #mlm smut #spiderman 2099 #sub character #dom reader #x you #x reader

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feyascorner · 9 months

Text

2 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. While seeing him leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you. You should hate him, truly.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. and he finally makes an appearance;,; ik the first two chapters are a bit slow but i think i can start picking up the pace now woohoo!! Reader/Tav’s feelings are supposed to be confusing on purpose but I may have overdone it a tad,,

He hadn’t had time to gather any of his belongings when he left. And while your other companions graciously rid of everything they could into a single box packed away in the corner of the basement, even they could not bring themselves to throw the handheld mirror away–whether because of the intricate designs framing its reflection that surely held value or because of your apprehension for throwing it out, you’re not sure. You haven’t used it yourself, too afraid of even touching its handle out of fear it may crumble away.

One of the orphan children that Cora’s harboring places a cup in front of you. You raise a brow at her, silently asking how Cora’s doing, and she only shakes her head solemnly before scurrying away.

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“They’ve already said numerous times where they were,” Lae’zel spits in the Flaming Fist’s direction. “Are all Fists this incompetent, or are you just a special case?”

You run a hand down your face while Gale attempts to calm Lae’zel. Shadowheart’s had her eyes trained on the cups perched around the table for quite some time now, occasionally glancing up to listen to the Fist’s interrogation. Unfortunately, the cups lack their usual alcohol, but you don’t complain about the water with how dry your throat is. You pat her shoulder, and she finally meets your eyes, nodding before resuming her focus on whatever the Fist is saying. You’re not sure yourself at this point.

“As Flaming Fists, we must put the guilty in their rightful place, regardless of whether they’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate or not,” he straightens his back, then narrows his brows at you. “And right now, all witnesses point here. You were seen leaving the tavern with a man reported as missing this morning. Care to explain that?”

You can hear Gale’s chair scrape against the floor. “You can’t be serious. They saved the entire city, for Mystra’s sake! If they wanted bloody murder, they would've been positively drenched in blood by now.”

However, all you feel is the searing stares of your other companions, who remain blissfully unaware of the encounters of your previous night. But you can tell they’re not accusing you, unlike the Fist—they never would—but rather demanding an explanation. You sigh deeply. “I didn’t go home with him. We spoke for almost two minutes before I left.”

“And what proof do you have of that?”

“Considering I woke up in the Blushing Mermaid, I’m sure you can do a little questioning there to find some witnesses,” you stand, the chairs of your leg scratching against the tiled floors. “Are we done here? I need to go speak with Cora, because her husband just died."

“Sit,” he hisses, his fingers reaching for his weapon. “I won’t repeat myself.”

The air becomes tense in mere seconds. It'd been uncomfortable moments ago, but not as much as this—not enough to make Lae’zel reach for her sword as she’s doing now. Your eyes narrow warningly into slits at the Fist, but his subordinates only step forward to stand on either side of him as if daring you to take another step. From the corner of your peripheral, you can see Shadowheart’s palm spark with light. The others occupying the Highberry household, even from outside on the patio, are talking in hushed whispers, all gazes trained on your very breath. And after a suffocating silence, you hear a chuckle from the door.

“Now, Yevir, we shouldn’t be treating our city’s most esteemed citizens with such hostility.”

Grand Duke Ravengard–Wyll’s father–steps into the home, shaking his head. The Fists, who were willing to go head to head with you mere seconds ago, are now turned and saluting the Duke, which makes Lae’zel scoff at your side. “You lot are dismissed under my name. Though I do have a word to exchange with the bard.”

Former bard, you want to correct him.

Your companions exchange an apprehensive glance at one another before you step forward. “And what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with the Duke?”

“You jest. We are all allies here,” he smiles. “Come, we must speak privately.”

You grin wickedly at Yevir as Ravengard steps past you toward the office in one of the other rooms. Yevir only shoots knives with his eyes, and you return the sentiments by sticking out your tongue mockingly, which earns a snort from Shadowheart. Then you quickly follow after Ravengard, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you had any news from my son?” he asks, facing the window with two arms locked behind him.

“Karlach’s been sending a few letters. They’re limited, as you might expect, but they do come,” you say. “She says Wyll is doing alright. They both are.”

He lets out a breath that can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: relief. “Good. Now, as for what went down between you and Yevir in the other room, I apologize on his behalf. He’s always been too passionate for his own good. Righteousness is admirable, but not when it blinds your judgment.”

“A lot of things can blind judgment. I don’t blame him.”

He turns to you, and despite the questioning gaze in his eyes, he ignores it. “I’m sure you’re well aware of what’s been occurring in the city—you recently received a first-hand experience.”

“So has half the people on the block, apparently.”

“I’m not talking about Cora’s husband.”

He reaches behind his back, pulling out a slim file and holding it to you. “The number of victims is increasing every day now.”

Flipping through the pages in the file, each one is etched with the murder scene of each victim. There’s one with a man haphazardly buried half in the ground, another with a woman collapsed next to the alleyway in Wyrm’s crossing, another of a man bleeding out in the fields of Rivington. You flip the pages again and again until you arrive at one you would’ve preferred to forget.

“Colin Hedgins,” Ravengard says. “Though most of the Fist, including Yuvir, is unaware, his body was found this morning.”

His silvery hair is stained with what you can only assume is blood. His face, which is stretched in horror, makes you wonder if maybe slitting his throat yourself would have given him a more peaceful leave to the afterlife. Not that he really deserved it. You swallow hard, shutting the file away. “So you think I killed him too?”

“No. In fact, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Then why show me this? This is classified information, no?”

“Each one of these victims has one similarity aside from their brutal deaths,” he frowns. “The puncture wounds on their neck, and the fact that their bodies seem to be drained of blood.”

Your breath hitches. While you’d had your suspicions, surely not all of them could have been of vampires? With Orin and the Bhaal worshippers now defeated or retreated into the shadows, the city had gotten eons safer—this just felt like a slap to your face. One group of murderers after another, it seemed. Instead of replying, you stare at Ravengard with pursed lips, urging him to get to his point.

“Wyll has told me of your relations with the vampires,” he says, and it makes your teeth clench. “He was gone by the time I’d joined your camp, but Wyll tells me you had a vampire for a companion for most of your journey. Could he be involved in-”

“No.” The answer is fast. Almost instant. And while a part of you feels disgusted for defending him, even now, another part refuses to let you live while the city thinks of him as nothing but a bloodsucking monster. Even if everyone thought of him as one now. “He wouldn’t have.”

The worst part is that he fully could have, even if you don't want to believe it. Your mind flashes back to the way his hands had felt around your throat, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Ravengard’s expression softens, and you see it again. Pity. Gods, you’d do anything to never see that kind of face again. “I’m also aware that you two had an—-arrangement. One that involved more than just mere friendship. But you must know if we cannot catch the vampire spawns that are running rampant in our city, dozens if not hundreds of more people will die.”

You want to tell him that he should not search for sympathy in you. Because you were once a person willing to get rid of 7000 spawns for the sake of one lover, who only ended up trying to kill you. “He won’t talk to me anyway. I’m sure you also know he didn’t leave on good terms, seeing as you seem to know everything about my love life. I can’t help you.”

The words come out snappier than expected, but Ravengard doesn’t react like he expected this.

“I see,” he says. “Then perhaps you’ll at least be able to keep an eye out. And please, report to me.”

You don’t budge.

He takes it as a sign to leave and moves toward the door. “If you do change your mind, let me know.”

You want to tell him your future is not a matter of what you want. It’s what he wants, and he’s already chosen your fate.

“And is anyone else aware that an entire horde of vampire spawn is living under the city?” Shadowheart says in exasperation. “No wonder they think Astarion’s the one who did it. They think there aren’t any more vampires here anyway! With that many vampires, imagine what destruction they could bring if they miss a few meals!”

“Surely we can convince our sharp-toothed friends to lay low in the Underdark with the others for a while? We convinced half of them. I don’t see why we can’t convince the other,” Gale suggests.

“A warrior who seeks blood shall have blood,” Lae’zel hisses. “I see no reason for them to leave. If I’d been a spawn, I would stay behind a city full of cattle than return to a place of eternal darkness.”

Your head hurts. From continuously sleeping anywhere but the comforts of your bed or from what’s going on, you don’t know, and you don’t care. You just want a nice long bath to wash the dirt on your face and a hot meal to go along with it. Your companions continue arguing, and it’s times like these when you wish Wyll and Karlach were still traveling beside you—they were usually the diffusers of the group.

To an extent, you had been too. Not anymore, though. That was the least of your worries.

“Why must we fix Astarion’s mess in the first place?” Lae’zel adjusts the sword she’d been cleaning on her lap. “We are not dogs to do his bidding. And from what I recall, we have no longer relations with him.”

This finally urges you to speak, almost instinctively. “We have to help. That’s final.”

It's not often that you reinforce your power as the appointed "leader" of the group, preferring to incorporate their opinions rather than choosing all on your own. They all turn to you with a mixture of suspicion and mostly cringe from Lae’zel. Your face flares in response. “I’m just saying we can’t just let a bunch of innocent people die!”

“Of course,” Gale coughs.

You can feel yourself losing your composure, your palms feeling clammy. Still, you straighten your back. “Astarion has nothing to do with me either. I’m doing this for the city.”

“Right.”

You opt to just clear your throat. “I’ll talk to Petras. We’ll figure out a way for all of us to be happy.”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes, but Shadowheart only raises a brow. “And how exactly are you going to find Petras? It’s not like he has a mailbox or an address.”

“I’ll figure it out. Always do,” you smile, and her face softens. “In the meanwhile, I’ll have to rely on you guys to pick up my work for rebuilding the city so I can focus on tracking him down. I don’t think it’ll take too long—maybe a week or so.”

Gale’s face knits together in concern. “And you’re quite sure you won’t need any of us to accompany you?”

“They’re fully capable of taking care of themselves, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “Very well, then. We’ll await good news.”

Looking back on it, perhaps you did need the help.

Days upon days of searching, yet nothing. You’re sure you covered almost half the sewers at this point, and you’re not sure if you’re just insanely unlucky or the vampires just left while you’d been searching elsewhere.

But the number of deaths says otherwise.

So you’d turned to a new approach. If you couldn’t find them, you’d let them find you.

The days stretch longer, with the city being in its summer season. And while you’re grateful, since it means vampires will have less time to hunt, you always despise the way this cloak is sticking to your skin and the hairs that seem glued to your cheeks with the hood stifling any hope of breathing freely. Still determined, you force your legs forward into the darkest alleyways you can find.

Though you’ve had a few fruitless days, pacing aimlessly throughout the city during the dead of night into early morning, a part of yourself keens at the moonlight draping over you tonight.

It had been on a night like this, one where the clouds make way for the moonglow to illuminate what lurks in the city during the night. Though at the time, instead of the comfortable bed in the house you and your companions managed to buy after scraping enough gold together, you were sleeping on a bedroll that did little to shield you from the rocks, doing nothing to even the ground below.

Back then, your companions were nothing but that—companions on a journey you hoped to end as quickly as possible to return to the taverns and bars of Baldur’s gate, where you would spend your nights singing the familiar tunes that your patrons enjoyed most. So after the camp celebration with the Tieflings, when Astarion led you to the forest clearing where you first felt skin other than your own, you realized this adventure of yours was more than just that. It was a new stepping stone in your life.

He’d held you close to him, offering you whispers of affection while his hands ran through your hair. He’d kissed you, his hands caressing either side of your cheek. He’d let you marvel at the scars on his back, his hands resting on your waist.

The same hands that wrapped around your throat months later. You can still feel them sometimes.

Despite your speech to Gale before Cora’s husband showed up dead, you weren’t sure how you would react if you ever saw your former lover again. On nights that weren’t plagued with nightmares, you stayed up, wondering if you’d cry. If you’d reach out for him, embracing him in a hug you never wanted to let go from. If you’d let him brush his knuckles on your cheeks, if you’d let him press a kiss to your forehead, if you’d let him love you again.

You weren’t sure. And a part of you—the part shoved deep inside the corners of your heart—wonders if never seeing him again was a blessing. That regardless of the ache in your heart now, never seeing him would save you from something worse.

So deeply lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the murky figure swinging a pipe at your head.

Nearly scathing the surface of a concussion, you dodge, but he’s too fast. Before you’ve even begun reaching for your knife, the figure swings you toward the wall, and you swear you can hear it crack as your back collides with it. Your vision only manages to straighten itself once the figure has you shoved onto the ground, either of their knees on the sides of your hip.

Instinctively, your hand flies up to stab at their arm, but you’re no match. They twist your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade, and pins either of your arms to the ground. You can’t see anything but the glint of their fangs against the light.

You’d fought vampires before, and you had never seen one so fast. So aggressive. So primal. Astarion had entertained you with friendly spars, but you’d also fought Cazador to the death. Even he hadn’t been this fast.

“I just want to talk to Petras! I’m not going to hurt you, I–” Your pleas go deaf on their ears.

When you squint, you can finally see the blood staining their fangs, and you realize that they’ve already fed.

They’re fed, and they’re still hungry.

A fed vampire, is a strong one, you remember. And if you add their hunger on top of that...

Even as you try to yank yourself away, they only squeeze their grip harder, enough to cut off blood circulation. The color drains from your face, your expression almost fearful. No, it does scare you. It scares you that this is only a spawn, but they can still attack someone so ferociously. It scares you that Astarion could have done the exact same thing to you.

The spawn yanks your head to the side with a claw on your hair, allowing them access to your throat. You thrash and kick, but to no avail, forced to watch as they’re about to sink their teeth into you. You hate your mind because even at death’s door, all you can think about is him.

Is this what he would’ve done to you had your companions not been there to save you?

Is this what he wanted to do the day he first approached you, asking for your blood?

Anger burns in your chest, and with the last bit of your strength, you lift your head and bite them first. Your teeth sink into their throat, feeling the break of skin just before they rip you away, wailing in pain as you’re carelessly tossed to the ground. As they grasp at the wound on their neck, you take the opportunity to lunge for your knife.

You feel genuine rage for the first time in what feels like forever. No self-pity, no dejection, no sorrow for losing the man you’d given everything to, but rage for the state you were reduced to just because of him. And that while his leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you.

You thrust the blade into their chest, and they stop. It’s no stake, but it’ll do for now. And as their throat gurgles with blood, all you can hear is the desperate panting of your own breath when their body falls to the ground, face first.

You pray they’re dead.

Then, your vision in one eye blurs with red. When you lift your hand to your forehead, you feel the warm blood trailing down, probably from when you collided with the wall. The little strength left in your legs vanishes as you reel forward, your knees crashing onto the mud beside the spawn.

Though you thankfully manage to collapse on your back rather than your poor counterpart who’s probably choking on the dirt and grim of the city grounds even in death, you can feel your head going light, even as your hands tighten around the knife laying on your chest. You greet the moon again, this time with a breathy laugh.

Seluné must be smiling back at you, surely.

You’re not sure who’s standing above you when you open your eyes again, being only seconds away from entirely blacking out. But you think it must be an angel, with his snow-white curls and how he revels under the veil of the moon. You want to reach out to him, but your shaky arm says otherwise.

He’s beautiful, you think, even if you can’t make out his face.

You hope the angel doesn’t pity you.

Apparently, heaven is at Elfsong Tavern. You’d imagined being greeted with the smell of roses and a fresh stream rather than the overwhelming stench of booze, but you suppose it’s fitting considering how you’d died in a puddle of what you assume to be a concoction of cat piss and your own blood.

No, that can’t be right.

Looking around frantically, you lurch forward, the sweat and mud sticking your hair to your skin. Multiple pairs of eyes bore into you. You’re slumped in the tavern's kitchen, several Fist soldiers peering at you curiously. And finally, you manage to make out Shadowheart, whose hands are hovering over you with a gentle glow.

“Lay back down, I’m almost done,” she frowns.

You ignore her request. “The spawn! I’m not sure if they’re dead–”

“Never mind that,” she snaps. “They found you blacked out on the ground next to a dead body and a broken wall. What in bloody hell happened last night? Do you know how much it scared us when the damn Fists were banging at our door at 4:30 in the morning?”

Your head spins, and you clutch at your head. “Got ambushed. I tried to talk to them, but apparently, they just wanted a midnight snack.”

“Heavens above,” she breathes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“No, I was so close, Shadowheart,” you shake your head frantically, smearing at the mud still plastered on your face. “I’ll be more prepared next time. If I manage to just capture one of the spawn alive, I could ask them where Petras is-”

There’s a loud yell from the hatch leading to the basement. Your head whips in its direction, then to Shadowheart, staring at her inquisitively.

She sighs, finally lowering her hands to her side. “Look, I need you to listen to me very closely. As your friend, I can’t have you losing your composure in front of the Duke downstairs. They’re in the hideout, but they’re also with–”

You hear Gale’s voice holler. “You’re the only one who knows them well enough, Astarion!”

Suddenly, your blood runs cold. While Shadowheart tries to keep you still, nothing can stop you as you yank the hatch open, sprinting downstairs. You run through the secret entrance to the hideout, your mind racing rapidly with words you can’t even decipher because they’re going by so fast. You want to hide away and barge into the room simultaneously, and the pounding of your head does nothing to help.

You're different now, you assure yourself. A part of you hates him for what he did, and you're willing to act on this hatred. You won't be passing out on the street, drunk on the pit of isolation he left behind, praying he'd appear from thin air and assure you things are fine. You're better now, and you did it all without his help.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

The room is cold–empty, except for three figures alongside two more guards standing at the door. Ravengard, standing at one end of the circular table, has his arms crossed, brows knitted together comprehensively. Gale, who had been pacing back and forth around the room, freezes instantly when he sees you. So does everyone else.

“Ah, and here comes the star of the show.” You haven’t heard his voice in so long. It almost feels foreign.

Standing between the other men on either side of the table, Astarion’s eyes bore into you, lips curled in a grin barely showing off his fanged teeth. When you lock eyes, yours grows wider as you take him in.

He looks almost the same. The same curly white hair, the same blood-red eyes, and the same smile that once brought you joy yet now only fueled the endless longing of your nightmares. While you expect yourself to feel anger, relief, or shock, all you feel is the rapid beating of your heart, your mind void of everything besides how uncomfortable the dried mud feels on your face. Your breath hitches as he lifts a finger to the side of his head. Only then do you also feel the warm liquid sliding down your cheek.

“You’re bleeding, darling.”

With the inevitable urge to barf up nothing from your empty stomach, you're back to being the same person as you were four months ago.

Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fluff

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kissitbttr · 9 months

Note

What happens if reader and Miguel get into another fight (it could be their first or second or anything really, whatever you prefer!) and it was like…bad. REALLYYY bad, like it effected reader mentally and physically. So they just leave and don’t come back.

I’m not sure if your comfortable with angst with no comfort but if you are can you do that?? And don’t forget to take your time!!

baby, i hope this is angsty enough.

Miguel and his architect!wife having their first argument

—

She knows not to ever pushes Miguel’s buttons. Especially when he has been working himself under pressure. But that’s the thing, she never wanted him to feel stressed or see the look of exhaustion across his face because it breaks her heart.

Her love language is taking care of him. Always. They both made a vow to always be there for one another and she’s never been the one to break a promise. So does Miguel.

Yet it seems that the past two weeks have somehow… changed.

He becomes distant. Colder. She notices how he keeps dodging her touch. Brushing her off with his hand while grunting a ‘i’m busy. later’ when she wants him to join her in bed. And it truly makes her heart torn because he had never been like this. He’s always so affectionate, if not clingier even. So what happened?

“Miguel? Baby, you need to rest. You’ve been dwelling in those paperworks for hours. Come on, my love” She smiles softly as she steps into his working office, tugging her silky robe closer against her body,

No response. His eyes only focuses on the scattered papers below him. Fingers furiously typing away on his computer.

She pretends not to be hurt when he chooses to ignore her. Bare feet finding themselves walking closer to his desk, she crouches down slightly to meet up with his eye level,

“Mig—“

“Not now, cariño . Go to bed”

His voice harsh. Whether he means it or not, it still makes her sad.

“I can’t” She frowns. “I want us to go to bed together. We haven’t done that in a long time and tomorrow is Saturday. Our day. Please?”

Miguel exhales heavily, removing his glasses before chucking it on the table. He straightens his posture, arms crossed over his chest as he shoots her a look.

A look that she had never seen before being directed towards his wife. One that she almost jumped out of fear.

“You do realize that i’m working right now? That me” He points at himself, voice growing harsher by the second. “Miguel O’Hara. Doesn’t need a break. He needs to work! And he would appreciate it if his wife stop being a fucking nag!”

That one cuts too deep. But she’s raised to always stand on her ground. To stand up to any man who ever tries to done her wrong. And that includes her own husband.

Despite how much that hurt.

“A nag?!” She asks in disbelief. “I’m being a nag because i care about my husband’s wellbeing?”

He chuckles. But she finds no humor in it. Empty. Just like his eyes.

“And i cooked for you” her voice lowers, gulping as she wraps her arms around herself. “Made you that carribean dish that you love so much, yet you didn’t even touch it. I even walked to the bakery and bought a blueberry pie. Sofia misses her daddy too, you know that?”

She hopes the mention of their daughter would eventually help his emotions decrease but somehow, his expression remains the same. And it only hurts her more, what he chooses to say next.

“I didn’t ask you to do that. And stop bringing Sofia into this as if it would help me change my mind. It won’t” He crosses his arms. He sure doesn’t mean it. Of course, he doesn’t. But he’s got a lot of things on his mind and he needs to take care of them now.

“What is going on with you?” She asks, both concerned and upset. “You have been acting like a complete different person lately! Avoiding me like a damn plague!”

“I do not need this right now, Y/N. Go!” He yells

But she won’t back down. Hard headed as always. “No! Because i need you to close that fucking computer down, tell Lyla that you’ll work on it later and come back to bed! It’s almost eleven!”

“Fuck!” He roars, slamming his fists against the table making you jump. “It always has to be an argument with you isn’t it?! ‘Miguel this, Miguel that. Miguel come back to bed, i’m fucking clingy and i need you right now!’” He mocks her, earning a very frightened look on her face but he pays no mind to it,

“Dana was never like this with me” He grumbles, mentioning his ex girlfriend’s name. “She knew her boundaries and let me do my fucking job. Definitely didn’t fucking nag me like what you are doing now. You’re making me regret my choices now”

And it hurts. Real bad. Because all of the time they had spent together before this argument, he always reassured her that she is the one for him. That no woman had ever came close to steal his heart and make him feel the way she does. Not Xina, Tempest or even Dana. Miguel may had the longest history with Dana but none of it matters because he has her.

Now? She doesn’t know what to believe right now.

She’s heartbroken. Face falling and her shoulders slump in defeat. The tears begin to form in her eyes but she has to stay in her ground to not let him see. It’s not like he cared anyway, he’s too busy buried in anger than to actually see she’s hurting.

“I can’t believe you just said that” Her voice is weak and shaky. Hands frozen on the either side, hands clenching and she feels her nails digging into the skin of her palms.

At the sound of his wife’s broken voice is what finally puts Miguel into a realization. The words he had just said to her, spewing those bullshit in front of her face. The look of hurt flashes across her beautiful face. It feels illegal to see her not smiling because of him.

Oh my God, what has he done?

“Cariño, I—“

She shakes her head, a broken sob falling from her lips, clamping her mouth shut. Miguel carefully walks around his desk to reach out to her, eyes filled with its own sadness but it only makes her step back making his heart break.

He had never felt more disappointed in himself than right now,

“Baby, please.. I-i didn’t—“

The sound of Sofia’s cries suddenly stops him. Probably awaken because of her dad’s sudden loud voice from when he yelled at her mother,

His wife breathes out a shaky sigh, running her hands through her soft dark hair with eyes shutting in frustration. She feels like she’s ready to explode at any moment. And Miguel contemplates whether or not he should try to comfort her. But by the looks of it, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Her eyes snap open. And for the first time, she looks at him with disappointment and anger. He searches for the love in those beautiful irises but find none. That’s when he knows, he had completely fucked everything.

“I’m fucking done with you, Miguel. Fuck you.” Her last words go straight to take a jab at his heart, before she turns on her heels to comfort their loving daughter in her room.

Miguel once couldn’t believe that he had everything. A home. A beautiful wife. A daughter. Second chances were given to him and he sworn to himself that he will do his very best to protect them all.

But now?

He might just lose everything he had built

—

if i were to write a part two, there’s going to be a slight change from ur request nonny if u don’t mind xx

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

Note

🐧

This is going to be really off from how bonding works lol.

But imagine that Aemon rants to Vaghar about reader having claim Cannibal to the Point that Vaghar gets curious over you (HC That Vaghar and Cannibal might have a big hate to friends relationship lol). So on one of these days when Vaghar its free to do as she pleaces she decides to look for the reader who is like "why the fuck does big old dragons keep coming to me" but reader is actually sweet to her and basically respects her a lot. Probably tells her how of a brave girl she is and how unfair too to fight human wars.

And Vaghar is like "oh if you knewww" and starts to like reader more than her own rider.

Cannibal IS getting jealous over this. Reader is his 😤!!

But one random day Aemon has the fantastic idea of try and persuade reader to marry him and he is being lowkey creepy and pushy. And what happens ? Not one, TWO BIG DRAGONS APPEARS.

Yes baby!! Canninal is sooo angry he may as well burn him alive but seeing the suprise and offended look Aemon gives to Vaghar as she protects reader its a nice suprise too.

And Vaghar its on mother mode. 😤💞!! She is lowley ashame over her own rider and will roar to him to stay away, then when reader and Cannibal leave together Vaghar wil ignore Aemons command and fly off with them too.

No because I love the ideas that reader is just so likeable that dragons just finds themselves attracted to them.

Besides I’m pretty sure Aemond and Vhagar don’t have a strong a bond as like daemon and Caraxes for example, so I wouldn’t be surprised if vhagar finds reader to be the better choice and wishes that reader was her rider, and not some wish version of Visenya.

Aemond: they should be mine, we ride the biggest dragons of Westeros, why can’t they see that we’re meant to be!

Grandma Vhagar: *sick and tired of hearing Aemond whine about you and just flies off to seek you out herself*

You would be with cannibal just chilling and all of a sudden an Aemond-less Vhagar just lands in front of you and stares you down as Cannibal growls at her in warning of what he’d do to her if she came here to harm you. He doesn’t fuck with you and neither should anyone else, not Vhagar, Craxes, hell not even Balerion or Meraxes if they were still alive would fuck with you with Cannibal to protect you.

But you just casually go up to Vhagar and start petting her snout and saying; oh Vhagar, you’re forced by the hands of man to do their bidding once again. You poor girl who just wants to be left alone in peace and yet they don’t respect that.

Vhagar is pretty much purring now as she closes her eyes, allowing your sweet words of praise to comfort her old and decrepit body into a state of rest; cannibal, you have chosen a true diamond of a rider with this little one.

Cannibal staring her down, still a little on edge but resonating how she feels about the selfishness of the Targaryen dynasty: I know and I shall treasure them as one until I die. But be reminded Vhagar that they are MY rider, not yours. You should’ve remained riderless if you wished to have them but it’s far too late, I’ve came for them and now they’re mine until death do us part.

Vhagar: I know that, dear Cannibal, but that does not mean you shall keep me from them for I shall always be watching over them when you can not.

Cannibal growls at this but doesn’t do anything outside of that because he doesn’t like you scolding him.

So when Aemond finds out where Vhagar goes when he’s busy, he will be ten times worse then before because if you claimed cannibal and also have Vhagar taking a liking to you, then this must mean that you are destined to marry him regardless! He would hunt you down himself and corner you somewhere remote as he looks at you with a weird and possessive look in his eye, as he then proceeds to spout nonsense about how you and him were two halves of the same soul and how you were truly a blessing for two of the largest dragons in history to come for your presence.

His dragon deity he’d probably call you because when has two dragons ever flew in search of someone before? It had always been people claiming them but never the dragons searching for their one true rider. You were truly a specimen for history to recount decades from now as historians ponder whether you were something else all together.

Could you imagine the future Targaryens reading about you in history books? The one whom summons dragons? Dragon priest/priestess? Whatever other titles they might give you in the future long after you’re gone.

So Aemond is obviously coming on too strong for your liking and all of a sudden, he’s eclipsed by not one but TWO behemoth shadows belonging to Cannibal and Vhagar, they have heard enough from Aemond and didn’t like the unease and fear that they felt coming from you as the one eyed prince kept hounding you with his advances for marriage. Once was fine but this was too much and they didn’t want Aemond to do you any harm just for saying no.

(Whether your are already betrothed to Cregan or Benjicot or Jace, or Addam Velaryon I’ll let you decide that)

Your hand is/is not taken as of yet and they will not allow Aemond to sully that because of his delusions and conceptions.

Aemond is shocked and upset to see that Vhagar was blocking him from you as you quickly mounted Cannibal, who was looking at him as though he were his soon to be dinner, and whispers; ‘Vhagar, why?’

Vhagar only roars at him and growling every time he tried to step closer to her, upset herself that her supposed rider was a weird man with an obsession for things he couldn’t have. She waits for when you and Cannibal to take off to the skies before following behind as a safety precaution, blatantly disregarding Aemond’s cries as they become nothing the further she goes, forcing him to realise that their control over dragons was merely a farce.

#hotd #house of the dragon

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auroreliis · 2 months

Note

Platonic batfam (or romantic, if you prefer). With darling who's English language not native. And theynot take a words in English like Their native language, Not entirely. Would insisted Bruce what batkid (any age, sure) call he "father" but on the Their (Her/His) native language? If he will know what They don't make the meaning same, like for he and batboys (and girls)? I mean, I would easily call someone "father" or "brother" exactly in English even if I don't perceive them as such, because it's not father-Father for me. How about others? Maybe batfam take it as an opportunity for to get close to darling, to teach Them to better perceive English and them in this context. And also. What about darling who swears in his native language (switches to his native language when angry/annoyed). Conversely, They calls those They like with nice nicknames in his native language, for example, Alfred (the cat and the original), Duke, probably girls.

L🍑

Yes! Absolutely, they would take this chance to get closer to you!!!

Bruce is your dad, therefore you must refer to him as such. He really doesn’t care in which language, as he either speaks it or will speak it soon, so go right ahead and speak your native language.

While the Batfam speaks English fluently, they will not force you to learn it. In fact, they’d rather force themselves to learn YOUR language (…if they don’t speak it already, that is)

However, if he heard you admit that you only call him dad in English, because it feels less personal, he would be stumped. I mean, he can’t just force you to switch your language, what would that change? Though he would certainly find ways to ensure you truly think of him as your father, he just needs to figure out how…

Also, swearing is strictly forbiden according to Bruce and Dick. You’re their little angel, the light of their lives, so you will NOT be heard using such profanities, no matter which language you speak.

Jason doesn’t give enough fucks to snitch, but if you went overboard, he would tell you to watch it.

Tim is the biggest snitch ever. Do not break ANY rules in his proximity, you will regret it.

Damian, like Bruce and Dick, prefers it when you use polite and gentle language. You’re like a blossom, blooming in the sunlight, such disgusting and vile words should not be coming from you, so watch it.

Duke would kind of freeze if you swore around him. He, ever so loyal to Bruce, cannot let this fly, but…imagining the scolding you’d get makes him feel bad. Besides, you’d never forgive him if he snitched, right? Fine, he’ll endure it, despite how uncomfortable it makes him feel. The things we do for love, huh?

Stephanie is so cool, because she’s rebellious enough to not snitch on you, but also obedient enough to not get into trouble with Bruce (…at least not THAT often). Hence why she not only ignores your swearing, but also swears with you! Not in front of Bruce, though. He would scold you both.

Cassandra has it tough. She obviously doesn’t want to snitch on you or forbid you from speaking your mind, but sometimes, your words, or specifically your use of those words in her proximity, make her feel a bit disrespected. You shouldn’t use such words in the proximity of someone who is older than you, that’s what she was taught.

Barbara is a mix of Dick’s and Steph’s attitude. Most of the time, she doesn’t care, but if your words are directed at anyone from the family, she’s telling Bruce to reprimand you right away.

In short, be careful of what you do and who is nearby when you do it.

Oh and, you have a nickname for someone specific? You won’t hear the end of it (in a positive way…mostly). They won’t leave you alone, they won’t shup up and they won’t stop bragging about how they clearly must be the favourite because their nickname is the more affectionate one, or their nickname is used more often, etc.

Truly a delusional bunch.

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moonwayne · 1 month

Text

Weak

logan x gn!reader

warnings: angst, cussing, mention of blood and injury, arguments, my rushed writing

Request: i love logan and i love angst!!I would like to read about an argument (one that is difficult to resolve or forgive) because I haven't seen much of that around here. That would be great! Thk 🫶 - @daugheroferuri

first time writing for Logan, let me know if you like it!

Logan had always struggled with his past. The reminders of trauma showing themselves in arbitrary moments and the constant battles he faced as part of the X-Men was no help. You had been with him for a handful of years now and as a fellow mutant you had stuck by his side for years, supporting him through countless fights. Your empathetic healing and manipulation abilities had come in handy whenever it came to persuading an enemy or alleviating a teammate’s pain. But this wasn’t without a cost. Every change of the mind or lapse in judgement you inflicted on to others no longer had an effect, but removing and forcing pain blockers took its toll on your body. Every use had left you exhausted, nearing a dangerous line of losing consciousness on multiple occasions. Needless to say, Logan was against you using your pain-relieving powers.

In recent days, the strain of the distance forced between you and him at his hand, had been damn near debilitating. As you sluggishly strolled into Charles’ office, you noticed him and Hank talking lowly in the corner. With a heavy sigh, you plopped yourself into a nearby chair, waiting as the two finally noticed your presence.

“Ah! Y/N! H-How’s your day?” Hank stuttered out, face burning with a embrassed blush, as if he’d been a child caught with something he shouldn’t have. You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously before turning to Charles, who matched Hank’s guilty expression and strained smile. You moved your eyes from one to the other a few times, before focusing on Hank and feeling around in his mind.

“Hey! Don’t d-“ He sputtered, cut off by your determined voice. “Hank.” You said, pleading with a tilt of your head. “I can practically see your guilt. You’re very bad at hiding things. Just tell me what you know.”

His face burned again, and he flicked his gaze towards the professor in apology before mumbling out a quiet “Well.. Logansortofdiscoveredanewthreatthatcouldendangerallofourlivesandcountlessinnocents. Heleftlastnight.“ He finished with a meek smile.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You breathed out, exasperated at the confession and the situation as a whole.

“Y/N, you must understand-“ Charles injected then. “No Charles! Don’t you see? I’m tired of understanding.” You rose your voice, digging your nails into your palm harshly. “He thinks he’s doing the right thing.”

You scoffed. “He only wishes to protect you.” Charles finished, having found his way over to you in the process, and wrapped a hand around yours comfortingly. “Logan does not know any better.” You rolled your eyes as you yanked your hand away from his harshly, standing up.

“I can’t do this any longer. I won’t. I am so tired of being pushed to the outside just because he simply ‘does not know better’, that’s some bullshit, Charles. And I know you know that.” You stated firmly, making your exit. “If I don’t return, I thank you for all you both have given me.” You spoke, hand grasping the door anxiously. “Truly.” Hank and Charles nodded, and watched your figure fade as you walked off.

+- -+

After searching and finding Logan’s plans in his room you concluded the threat would have been dealt with by the time you arrived to where he was in France. After a long flight and some more traveling later, you caught up to him. You strolled into the hotel and by turning up the charm, you convinced the poor receptionist to let you into where he was staying. It only took around an hour of you pacing the carpeted floor with a frown etched on your face for Logan to come storming in the room, his face already set in a hardened expression. “Y/N?” He questioned, taking in your form as you did his, noticing the healing bruises and bloody knuckles.

“What are you doing here?” He rushed over to you, hands on your shoulders as he began to push you towards the door.

“Logan, I’m here for you!” You said, planting your feet and staring up into his eyes. He shook his head in disagreement and began to push you out of the room again. “You shouldn’t have come here. It’s too dangerous.”

“L-Logan. Stop pushing me.”

“Shouldn’t be here.. not safe..” He mumbled, gathering your bags and placing them in your hands. “Logan!” You yelled now, dropping the bags at your feet and making your way over to his cowering form.

“You should be at home.” He grunted. “I need to leave. The threat isn’t dealt with.” He said, turning to leave you alone once more.

"Logan, you can't keep doing this!" You exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "Every time you go on these missions alone, you leave me behind, unsure of your safety. You need support with you.”

Logan's jaw tightened. "I can handle it. I've been doing this long before we met. It's what I do."

"But we're supposed to be a team," you shot back, voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes. "How am I supposed to just be okay with you shutting me out, okay with you making me feel like I don't matter in your life?"

Logan's eyes softened for a moment, and you thought he might wrap you in his arms and speak to you his apologies, but that was only a thought. He stiffened up and turned away, his voice gruff. "This is not about you. It's about keeping you safe. I can't risk losing you." A crack in his voice was the only sign of emotion. You shook your head rapidly, frustration and sadness boiling over. "Logan don't you see? Every time you go out there alone, I feel a piece of you slip away. I can't do this, Logan. I can't keep living everyday unsure, waiting for the day you decide you simply do not need me anymore.” You spoke, voice trembling with every word. Logan's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words seeming to have had an effect. He sighed and turned towards you again, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and regret.

"I... I don't know how to do this any other way." He mumbled, avoiding your gaze. You took a step closer and reached out for one of his bloody hands.

"Then we need to find a way together. Because I won’t continue letting you push me away. We need to stick together." You breathed, regaining some composure. “You know I’m capable of helping. I don’t understand why you don’t let me come with you.” He pulled his hand away from yours aggressively, that stony expression returning to his face.

“Y/N. Enough.” He said, “You’re not strong enough to join me on these missions.” You blinked rapidly, feeling the burning sensation of tears returning to your eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that you’re weak, Y/N.”

“You don’t really mean that.” Your voice lowered.

“Right now, I do.” He gritted his teeth, baring that once charming smile into a grim line.

“You’re fucking pathetic, James. We’re supposed to be together, in everything.” Your sadness slowly morphed into a rising anger. Logan's eyes flashed with anger at your statement. "You don't get it, do you? I don't need a partner. I don’t need back up. I need you to stay safe. And out of my way. If that means you hating me, or you leaving me entirely then so be it.” He told you, jaw tightening. “I tried the domestic life once. You know what happened. I won’t do it again. I mean, just look wherre it fucking got me.” He flashed his claws, a pained frown spreading over his face.

“I don’t recognize you anymore, Wolverine.” You stated. “I didn’t fall in love with this version of you.”

He sighed and looked into your eyes, his mind’s pain and uncertainty filling the air around you so thick you could nearly feel it choking you.

“I am sorry, Y/N.” He lifted his bags off the floor and with a single glance into your eyes, he turned and walked out, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and riddled with doubt. You didn’t know if you could ever bridge the massive chasm between you.

+-+

sorry the ending was a bit rushed. hope you liked it <3

#angst #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan angst #wolverine angst #imagine #x-men imagine #x-men angst #x reader #ok bye ily #drink some fucking water

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general-fanfiction · 3 months

Text

Hopes And Fears - Part Four. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death was traumatic. So traumatic in fact she can’t even look at Wally without reliving her death.

Word Count: 2.8k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Mature Language, Themes Of Rape/Sexual Assault

“That was kind of harsh Rhonda.”

Charlie’s voice breaks the uncomfortable silence that has fallen upon the group. Each face holding a different expression. Rhonda full of hatred, Charlie consumed by guilt for not stepping in, Wally a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

“Do you think maybe somebody should go after her?” Dawn questions, speaking for the first time since the group session began.

Rhonda huffs, slumping down into her chair as she realises that nobody is taking sides, and if they are, they’re not taking her’s.

“Off you go then Wally, run after your precious little angel.” The girl spits, lips set in a firm scowl, eyes shooting daggers towards him.

“Rhonda!” Mr Martin snaps, though the teens aren’t listening. After all, despite being a teacher, he holds no position of authority over them in death.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wally asks quietly, shaking his head as he does so.

“Maybe I’ve just had enough. Sixty years I’ve been here Wally! Yet nobody seems to care about how that makes me feel, all of you are just pandering to the new girl.” She shouts, slamming her hands down on the edge of her chair as she does so. Taking everyone by surprise.

“Rhonda, of course we care but you’re being really mean.” Charlie speaks softly, gazing sympathetically at the brunette girl.

“Mean? I don’t think I’ve been mean enough. I mean seriously is nobody questioning why she’s being so secretive? What doesn’t she want us to know?” Rhonda continues to push her argument in an attempt to gain a rise out of the other students. Hoping to get them to question themselves and where they stand in regards to the situation. “If you ask me, I reckon the bitch killed herself and she’s too much of a wuss to tell us.”

“That’s bang out of order Rhonda and you know it!” Wally bellows, leaping out of his chair and stomping straight over to her, hands placed on either side of her legs, caging her between himself and the back of the chair. “Don’t you ever speak about her like that again. Don’t you dare so much as look at her. Or I will make the rest of your eternity a living hell, do you understand me?”

Rhonda has no time to respond, though the frightened look on her face tells Wally all he needs to know. Without a second glance, he’s barging out the room. Launching one of the empty chairs across the gym as he does so, resulting in a large clatter though nobody really notices. All eyes fixed on the loveable jock, dumbfounded at the rage he is exhibiting. This being entirely out of character, never once in the years they had no Wally had he exploded in such a way.

Whilst each of the ghosts sits silently, all contemplating their next move in order to avoid another argument, Charlie is the first to make a move. Giving Rhonda a nervous glance, he slowly exits the gym. Asserting that his decision as to who’s side he is on has been made.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ducking under the police tape, I’m thankful that no officers are around. Granted, I know they can’t see me, I just find it awkward to be stumbling between the living. I’ve come to realise just how much people lack spacial and self awareness.

The room is exactly as it was left, blood stains splattered on the tiled walls and floors. A glistening red in contrast with the mucky white tiles. In fact, the only change within the room is the numbered notes, I can only assume for any evidence the officers may have gathered.

I find myself perched on the end of the splintered wooden bench, lost in thought as I fixate on the scene. I’m amazed at how much blood I truly lost, assuming it would have only been small flecks. When in reality, it is everywhere. Stains from how it pooled mark the floor as well as splashes coating the walls.

My mind flashes back to that moment. Their hands on my body. The beatings I endured as I tried my best to resist. Sharp pain as I tried my hardest to close my legs. Squeals of agony escaping my mouth only to be met with a calloused hand gripping my face tightly prevent anymore noise.

It’s only when I feel a tear drip from my chin to the back of my hand that I realise I’m crying. Nothing to be heard other than my soft sniffles. Despite the memories plaguing my mind, I can’t help but feel proud at myself for returning here. It’s such a small accomplishment and yet for me, it feels as though I’ve taken a huge step forwards into fully processing what I went through. It’s a step closer to healing.

“God, I can’t believe they haven’t cleaned this up yet. I’d have thought they would want to scrub it straight away.”

Charlie’s voice takes me aback and my head spins towards the door. Noticing him shyly stood just outside of the room, almost like he doesn’t actually want to enter. An overwhelming sense of deja vu hits me and I’m reminded of our first interaction right outside.

“I don’t think they’re legally allowed to clean up. Otherwise I’m sure they’d have torn the entire building down by now.”

Shuffling over on the bench slightly, Charlie takes this as an invitation and perches beside me. The two of us staring at the crime scene.

“So I take it you were murdered.” He questions apprehensively, knowing full well what the answer is.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spoke about it yet.” I speak softly, almost afraid of what his reaction could be. I don’t want him to lose his temper like Rhonda, though I get the feeling that he doesn’t have an angry bone in his body. “Charlie, I want to talk. I do. It’s so recent though, I haven’t even been dead a month. I get that it’s shitty but I’m not ready to go into the details of it all.”

“You would think out of all of us that Rhonda would be the most understanding. She’s always been very open about her murder though.” Charlie tells me, seemingly unfazed by my lack of wanting to talk. “I get it though Y/N, you don’t owe us anything. Don’t tell Rhonda this because she’ll think I’m a complete bitch but she was strangled to death, and no offence but judging by the state of this room, your murder was a lot more brutal.”

“Let’s not turn this into a competition of who had a worse death.” I joke, feeling more relaxed due to his words. “But seriously thank you. It means a lot that you’re being so nice.”

“Of course.” The boy smiles brightly, which seems to be contagious because I can’t hold back the beam on my face either. “On a completely separate note, you should probably go and find Wally. He completely lost his shit with Rhonda after you left. Like he went full psycho, I’ve never seen him lose it like that before.”

“Fuck.” I whisper, running a hand through my hair, a habit of mine when I’m under stress. “Thanks again Charlie, I really appreciate it.”

Charlie only nods gently, watching me scurry out the room. Clearly sensing that I’m in a rush to find the footballer. Wandering around the halls of Split River, it’s only then that I realise I have no idea where Wally could be. Worry begins to seep through my pores, knowing there is endless possibilities as to where he could be. If only the school could be ten times smaller. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so challenging.

Thinking back to our previous conversations, I try to remember any hangout spots that Wally may have mentioned. Though these rarely seem to come up in conversation. We spent most of the time sprawled out in the gardens and yet there was no sign of him when I searched back there.

Huffing out of annoyance, I’m fully prepared to give up my hunt for him. At least I was. Out of the corner of my eye I become aware of the sign directing students towards the pool. Wally’s words ring in my head from earlier this morning.

“So I was thinking we could have a pool day.”

With crossed fingers and countless prayers being whispered under my breath, I stride towards the pool. Confidence boosted as I hope that my intuition is right and that he went away with his pool day solo.

My suspicions are confirmed as my eyes lay upon the handsome boy. Lost in his own thoughts as he drifts about on a pool floaty, arms tucked beneath his head and sunglasses on to block out the rest of the world. Loitering at the edge of the pool, I remain silent. Just for a moment. In order to truly appreciate this man’s beauty. He’s the most exposed I’ve ever seen him. Granted he’s only shirtless, but still I can’t help the flutter I feel in my heart (and possibly between my legs). With defined abs and toned body, he reminds me of a Greek statue, carved out of stone.

“Y/N, I’m not really in the mood to talk right now.” Wally states, as my eyes drag up his body, I’m aware that his sunglasses are now placed on his forehead and he most likely just caught me gazing at his physique.

“I know, neither am I.” I admit, sitting down at the edge of the pool, pulling my shoes off and throwing them behind me so that I can dip my feel it in the lukewarm water. “But I do owe you an apology.”

This catches his attention and I see his eyebrows raise, eyes darting over to me. Wally looks sad. There’s no other way for me to describe it. I’ve seen him sulk and upset before. However, he looks worse than I’ve ever seen.

“Rhonda’s words really hit me. I never meant to make you feel like you’d done anything wrong. I’m so sorry for making you feel that way. You don’t need to try to make me feel less threatened. I know you don’t have a cruel heart.” I admit, voice shaky as I genuinely have no idea as to how he will react. “It’s no excuse, but I was struggling a lot those first couple of days and I guess I took it out of you and you didn’t deserve that. So I really hope you’ll forgive me. I also thought I should probably mention that you don’t have to stop wearing your football stuff because of me. You love it, I don’t want you to feel as though you can’t wear it because I’m going to have a breakdown.”

Swinging my feet in the water slowly, I keep myself focused on this rather than Wally who floats a few feet away. His silence scares me slightly and I know that if I even look at him, I may burst into tears. I never meant to hurt him. I really didn’t.

“Rhonda’s full of bullshit.”

I’m shocked when he speaks, purely because I thought he was mad at me. I’m even more shocked when I understand what he’s said. Never once hearing Wally say a bad thing about someone and here he is calling out one of the ghosts he’s known the longest.

“What?” I’m completely puzzled by what he just said, not knowing what he means by it and whether he means that what Rhonda said wasn’t true. My tone reflects this and when I go to look up at him, he’s already slipping off the floaty and swimming towards me.

“I said Rhonda’s full of bullshit.” He’s pretty much beside me now, arms crossed as they rest against the edge of the pool next to me. It’s the closest we’ve ever been to one another and I can’t deny the way my heart races right now. Not even one ounce of fear resides within me despite our close proximity. Maybe I am doing better now? “I like spending time with you Y/N. I wasn’t trying to make you feel less threatened. Yeah, I wanted you to feel welcome and to know I mean no harm but that was it. All the time I’ve spent with you is because I wanted to, I enjoy it.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

He laughs faintly. “No, I’m not mad at you. Thank you for the apology but you really didn’t have to say anything.”

I cannot even begin to describe how relieved I am that the ghost isn’t mad at me. For a moment back there, I was prepared to spend eternity alone, thinking everybody had turned their backs on me. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case and I potentially let myself overthink without speaking to anybody under less tense circumstances.

Grateful to have resolved things with Charlie and Wally, the only person left is Rhonda. However, something tells me that she might need some time. I doubt seeking her out is the best course of action right now and she probably needs space to cool off. So, for now, I’m happy to sit here and bask in the peace once more.

“So, a pool day for one isn’t exactly the most exciting and fun time.” Wally mentions, splashing a small amount of water at me.

“No I can’t imagine it is.” I reply, he swims backwards, a silent request for me to join him in the water. Which I’m happy to oblige.

Stripping off my clothes, I dump them on one of the seats. Out of the way of the pool edge in the hopes that they remain dry. Left only in my underwear, a lacy red bralette with matching thong, I thank my lucky stars that the day I died was one of the days I wore a decent set.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as I turn around to face Wally. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve felt since getting here and I am anxious. Afraid of any judgement from Wally and afraid of being so exposed. All of these thoughts vanish instantly when Wally’s eyes begin to trail my body. Flashing with desire. He doesn’t think I’ve noticed, though I don’t miss the barely there whistle that escapes under his breath.

“Are you gonna move out of the way or what?” I ask, hands on my hips as I wait for him to move to one side.

He does so with no complaint and I sprint forward, diving straight beneath the water and surfacing with a gasp for air. Pulling my hair out of my face, I find myself only a few inches away from Wally and take the opportunity to splash the water in his direction. After all, it’s only fair that I take my revenge.

“Oh this is war.” Wally yelps after being pelted in the face again by another large splash.

We’re both rocked against the waves that the battle has created. Huge splashes attacking each other alternatively, repeatedly in hopes of taking the other person down. I’m completely unaware that the force of the water is slowly bringing us closer together and before I know it we’re face to face. Noses practically touching one another.

“I think I win.” He whispers, sopping wet hair pushed back off his forehead, small curls beginning to form.

“Never.”

He’s focused on me, chestnut brown eyes piercing into my soul. I daren’t think too much, scared he can read my mind with the force of his gaze. A sudden surge of bravery must overcome him as he gently reaches out, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. His touch is soft, as light as a feather. Like he’s scared I’ll pull away. It’s the first time we’ve ever made physical contact and though the act is so sweet and innocent, my heart flutters at the intimacy of it.

His hand is delicate as it moves from my hair, gliding down my cheek to hold it lovingly. It’s then that I notice his eyes flickering down to my lips, silently asking for permission. As much as my heart desires his touch and his affection, something in my mind can’t let go. It won’t allow me to take that step further and so I reluctantly pull away. The move quick as I break out of his gentle hold.

“I’m gonna go dry off in the sun.” The words spill out of my mouth, faster than I intended. Wally tries his best to hide it but I spot the disappointment clear on his face. Obviously hoping that this could have gone further.

If only I was able to articulate to him just how much I wanted to take things further as well. For now though, we’ll stay friends.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tag list:

Ask if you would like to be removed. :)

@p-rspective @criesinlies @bath1lda @prettyplant0 @backtotheshitshow @emrysaf @lyn-soso @agentsofwhat @stumacherisalive @xyzstar @ellatitanium @nymwritespoetry @katdahlali @kaiyahs-wife @callsignwidow @hufflepufffangirlqueen @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @blissfulxsins @stainedstardom @pearlsyeaaa @sisterslytherinog @random-simper @highpriestessfae @softbabybunnyysstuff @alexayoonlee @marvelsbitchh @urchubbygirlpen15 @urmomisafinewoman @frogmanfae @okitrine @brairslair @tommyriddleobsessed @correlance @pinkstrawberryflower @ameliamarie50 @esmerayxx @caprisunsister @jupiterscove @faithiegirl01 @janessabaker @littlebitof-life @circethesinner @juhdoche @maggiecc @deftonianfr @n0tal1v3 @ethanthequeefqueen @nunyabunis @rose-tinted-juls

#wally clark fluff #wally clark x reader #wally clark imagines #wally clark fic #wally clark #school spirits imagines #school spirits fic #school spirits #fluff #hopes and fears #wally clark angst #angst #school spirits angst

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fefern · 4 months

Note

Hiii I saw ur Scar hcs, and the TD Hybird part really piqued My interest. If Reader (gender-neutral), agreed to it, how would Scar react to it! And also Maybe, if it’s painful (because it probably is, considering it’s like shoving a whole New Lifeforce into your body) would He feel sorry for Reader? (I would feel sorry for myself if it Hurt 💀)

✧˖° scar's reaction to you agreeing to merge with a tacet discord. | scar headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: after some thought, you agreed to merge a tacet discord with your body just like your lover scar has kept asking you to do! how does he react, and what's the process like?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: scar, gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none! no serious details of the transformation process, but if it's too much let me know and i'll change the warnings!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hi hi pretty anon!! thank you for sending this wonderful ask in!! had me wondering for a long while how exactly scar shoved that whole other being into himself LOL!! (~ ~)" hope you enjoy this! requests are open as always! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ scar ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

when you first come to him with the idea, he’ll blink once. then twice. then a third time.

did he hear you right?

he’d at first be shocked that you’d agree

he’s used to asking many people to join the organization and insert a tacet discord into themselves just to be met with rejection time and time again. it's a normal part of his job.

but for you to agree? and it being his lover nonetheless!

scar is over the moon, so happy that you’re aligning with his ideals! he knew you’d come around!

he’d immediately begin talking energetically to you about the side effects that he experiences, and what it’s like being able to transform and merge your body with a whole new life form.

it takes a lot of preparation for you two to be ready for this event, and when you’re all set up and ready to go, he’s the one that flicks the switch to begin the transformation.

sparks fly, and a bright white light appears in an instant, almost like lighting.

and he knows it’s a part of a process, and he knows what it’s like to be in there.

heck, he’s kind of got a manic happy expression seeing how successful the process of putting the tacet discord into you is going.

but can’t help how a small part of him feels his heart drop as he hears you scream, hears the way you’re in pain, sees the way that you’re in tears because of how painful it is.

watching you, his lover, get ripped apart in real time, and then getting pieced back together, hurts a part of him he didn’t expect to feel.

he almost wants to turn it off, to go back, but that in itself is risky. if he stops it now, he’ll be threatening you with being seriously injured or worse, dead.

so he lets the process finish, basking in your glory and shoving down his worries before it finishes with a halt.

some smoke appears, but when it settles, there you are.

you most likely have some new scars now or other physical changes due to the process, but he still finds you just as beautiful as you were before.

he’ll quickly rush to your side and for the next week or so, he’s stuck to your side. his eyes are always on you, and he’s essentially nursing you back to health.

you will be doted on to the fullest extent, and he’s suddenly the best house husband in the world.

he keeps telling you during this time how excited he is for you, how much of a stronger duo you two will be together, and how he’ll train you to be the best of the best just like he is.

but on the first night that he’s taking care of you, he’ll have his back towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed as you lay down. his tone gets softer, a little out of character for how usually smooth and charismatic he can be. after some silence, he breaks it.

“thank you for doing this for me. for a while, it felt as if this side of me was something i couldn't explain to you, but now, you truly are able to understand me for who i am. i will guide you through this new journey, and i will love you with all i can.”

probably also kisses the back of your hand after he says this KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING-

#the epitome of the “pissing all by yourself handsome?~” meme during the week of helping you heal #will not leave you alone #wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #wuwa headcanons #wuthering waves headcanons #wuthering waves scar #wuwa scar #scar #wuthering waves scar headcanons #wuwa scar headcanons #scar x reader #wuwa scar x reader #wuthering waves scar x reader #qi writes

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elfyelation · 1 year

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𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 | oneshot

pairing—astarion x gn!reader summary—nightmares were nothing new to astarion, he’d been living one long before the tadpoles settled themselves inside your heads. now, however, it seemed there was something he feared even more than the possibility of returning to his former master… warnings—mentions of slavery, nightmares, indication of past abuse/trauma, mentions of astarion’s past, angst, some fluff word count—811 rating—teen

He tosses and turns in his sleep, another cruel nightmare tearing through his slumber.

You hear him mumble, hot sweat running across his creased brow, “No... M-master… please… No…”

His body is still trembling when his words trail off, the discomfort never leaving his face. His eyes squeeze themselves even tighter shut in a frail attempt to push the thoughts from his mind.

You were awake now, concern threading through your brow as you shushed him and ran a gentle hand over his cheek.

“Astarion? Astarion, wake up.” It is no use, your voice is but a distant echo — a whisper in the darkest depths of his mind. There is no way to free him, he is a prisoner of his own mind. All you can do is wait for him to open his eyes himself.

You sit up then, moving to pull his head into your lap. Quietly, you comb your fingers through his ice-white hair. His skin is hot to the touch as if he were stricken with a fever so foul it scorched from the depths of all hells.

Softly, you called out again, “Astarion.”

Still, he does nothing but stir, head rolling from side to side in agony.

Leaning down, you press a light kiss to his crumpled forehead and finally, his skin smooths out. It takes a moment but soon his eyes flicker open and look up at you with wide, startled eyes.

“It’s okay,” you remind him, continuing to run your fingers through his hair, “You’re with me, you’re safe.”

He smiles but it only lasts for a moment and his eyes close again as he readjusts to his surroundings. His hand reaches up to rub at the tense skin on his face and even he seems to be surprised by the heat he finds there. He was always cool to the touch, even on the warmest summer day. Another side effect of his foul affliction.

“It isn’t me I’m worried about,” he all but whispers, as if he is unsure whether he wants to show any more weakness in front of you.

Then he sits, lifting his head from its comfortable place in your lap, and turns to you. His eyes flicker over your body as if searching for wounds and he closes his eyes again as he takes in a deep breath. “You are safe, that is all that matters.”

When you involuntarily raise a brow in question, he sighs and returns to his charismatic persona. “I was dreaming of you, darling. Although that dream would not be my preferred scenario, I must admit.”

Still, you watched him, waiting until he was ready to tell you the full truth.

He knew what you were doing. He knew you too well. You did not need to say anything for him to know you were waiting for elaboration. He could confide in you, he knew that. It was just… difficult at times to speak it out loud.

He seemed to shrink as his eyes flitted away from you, glancing at the ground for a moment before he looked back up at you again.

“Cazador had captured you. Captured us both. Instead of hurting me, he was hurting you. He was hurting you to hurt me and I could do nothing but sit by helplessly as it happened.”

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, and he leaned into your welcome touch.

“It was just a dream. I’m here and I’m safe. We’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

Usually, he’d have laughed at your words and told you that you were a fool for thinking he was truly out of his former master’s reach. One day Cazador would find him for in his search he was relentless. He would not let even a single slave escape him, not while he still lived.

Someday Astarion would have to face the music but, until that day came he wanted to enjoy the time he had with you. And, after hearing you speak that way, sounding so sure of yourself, he found he wanted to believe it too. That you would be by his side when the day came and that the two of you would emerge victorious, standing over the vampire lord’s corpse.

Until then, he’d offer you an honest smile and wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he pushed his lips to yours.

He wasn’t sure when he stopped being afraid for himself and rather became afraid of losing you but it was a small price to pay in comparison to the joy you brought him. You had given him a purpose in life. A purpose that was more than just survival. You had shown him what it was to truly love and for that, he would forever be in your greatest debt.

#—warrenwrites ✦#astarion x reader #astarion x gn!reader #astarion #astarion angst #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff

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punkpandapatrixk · 6 months

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🪷Sacred Lotus Within You ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘If you only do what you can do, you will never be more than what you are now.’

‘I don’t wanna be more! I like who I am.’

‘You don’t even know who you are.’

‘What do you— Of course I do; I’m the Dragon Warrior!’

‘And what exactly does that mean—Dragon Warrior?’

— Po and Shifu’s conversation from Kung Fu Panda 3

SONG: Pure Imagination by Gene Wilder

MOVIE: Kung Fu Panda 3 (2016)

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A hard Life is not always a divine punishment of sort⛈More often than not, the Universe’s most advanced Souls choose to be born—as Humans—into much sorrow and a perceived sense of limitation just for the joy of experiencing a personal breakthrough out of a cycle of—both—good and bad Karma🍄

Seen from a Soul’s perspective, all events in this mortal world are just drama. drama. drama~🎭It’s so exciting to co-Create massive stories with other Souls in this theatre of the Universe🎪This Play in itself, a spiritual evolution of sort for all beings of Love and Light🩰

This world is at best the dream of a Butterfly🦋Have fun; and have faith that in time all things bloom magnificently like a Sacred Lotus emerging from the mud🪷Ultimately, all of us, we bring with us only memories of our lifetimes when we are done playing our roles in this Grand Experiment of a Cosmic Drama💫

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Peace Maker

VIBE: Master Shifu asking Po to teach him inner peace

seeds of beauty in you – 10 of Pentacles Rx

Encoded in your DNA is the very gift of healing itself. You were born into this world of stupid carrying seeds of peace-making. Yup, you were the kid who was always able to tell when a grownup was lying. Like, OMG, so disrespectful…they think I can’t see through such obvious lies? In fact, too many things were obvious to you because you are gifted with a keen ability of observation. We’re talking superhuman-level observation, baby~

With that, the world around you was often terribly dull. You’re definitely the type that wants to travel and see the world for yourself. Wanting to see what other people of different nations and races, customs and cultures, even religions, have to share about what this Life is all about~ You had A LOT of questions!

Alas… You soon realised that most people’s perceptions, priorities, and overall ways of life are low-quality at best. Your interactions with people, your observations of them, gave you almost nothing but disdain. People…are not intelligent enough. But more disturbing still…people are not noble enough in their pursuits of a good Life.

In your eye, most of the time, people don’t have enough integrity, character, or personality🤷🏻‍♀️

blooming in spite of muddy water – 7 of Pentacles Rx

If you’re often distressed by the state of Humanity, it is because you possess this divine ability to pierce through bullshit and reveal the true essence of all things. You’re a deep diver. You truly are a scholar. You’re the type that seeks to bridge between differences and clashes, so that people find a common ground upon which they could build a harmonious society. You most likely have a significant placement in the 7th House or blessed with a strong Libra/Venus aenergy~⚖️

Essentially, you’ve come into this world with an almost specific purpose of bridging differences between generations. All because your Oversoul was sick of watching Humans being fools amongst themselves. So you plunged into this world of illusions in the hopes of elevating people’s spiritual intelligence. Your unique gift of observation is piercing and high-vibrational and the reason it can bridge generations is that the wisdom you will develop as a person is both universal and timeless💎

You are an Ascended Master, you know. Like Po returning to the mortal world after defeating Kai. Like Gandalf the Grey returning as Gandalf the White after defeating the Balrog. All because you’ve got shit to do in this world of stupid—your wisdom is gravely needed! I’m not teaching you to be conceited or anything, but by means of technicality, you’re not here to learn anymore; you’re here to…teach🤣

tulips of happiness – Knight of Cups

No matter your age or their age, you’re here to teach the infantile Humans about inner peace and true, everlasting, sustainable, manageable, actually reasonable sense of Harmony🌷You do that by setting an example; by first bridging confusions and calming down chaos within yourself; then you talk about the walk to anybody interested enough to listen to you🌾

In this lifetime, as an Ascended Master playing Human, there’s probably a lot of heartache you’ve needed to learn to forgive. If you’re in your early or mid-20s when reading this, you’re most likely just beginning to learn it. You don’t have to act perfectly though. Healing and forgiveness are not about being or doing perfect. It’s perfectly OK, too, not to forgive—certain cruelties in this world are simply beyond absolution, ya know?🤬

What does truly matter is that you forgive yourself. Just yourself. You can forgive the situation. You can forgive the fact you fucked your way into this or that mess. Where applicable, you can give thanks to the experience and then move on to the next thing. Be glad about the fact that you’re still alive after all of the fuckery, and that you’ve enough self-awareness, and how that self-awareness has grown you as a person. It is such a beautiful thing to have grown up in the mental and spiritual~🦉

ESSENCE OF BEING HUMAN🔻💜

the script you chose – Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull)

path of self-transcendence – Priestess of Healing

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Pink Radiance

VIBE: Master Oogway sending universe mail to Li Shan

seeds of beauty in you – III The Empress Rx

Oooh~ You’re pretty~ That much I can tell🙊You probably are blessed with some significant Aries, Aquarius, or any Cardinal aenergy in your birth chart; could also have Venus/Moon in the 1st or 11th House~ And do you know why you’re bestowed with an outer appearance that’s easily considered attractive in this realm? Because you’re meant to have an audience🎙

You’re meant to be heard; to have a platform and be some sort of a leader. And since being pretty in this world brings a lot of privileges, your Soul chose to be born with this specific setting in your birth chart wHoA~ A pretty face gets attention more effortlessly and that’s just how it is with this world~🙈

So, you see that there’s meaning in having some forms of privilege whether it’s your face or your family/economic background, or even heritage or some special lineage thing going on in your Life🎰And yet, it seems you could’ve been blind to all this ‘upper hand’ and not see much value in your existence.

None of this has felt all that special…well, because you were born with it. It’s not special; it’s normal to you; and you definitely want to feel special…not really grasping others would kill to have what you were born with…🐞

blooming in spite of muddy water – XVI The Tower

In spite of all of the privileges that seem obvious and enviable to others, you yourself have not felt all that blessed most of your Life. There is this thing that people don’t understand about you: EXPECTAFUCKINTION. Expectation could kill, depending on situation, and depending on where you are in Life. In many ways, you haven’t really ever felt FREE in your beingness. You don’t really know how FREE truly would feel like. You can imagine it, but you don’t really know if that’s even real🤷🏻‍♀️

Whether it’s status, prestige, or simply beauty, sometimes you’ve felt victimised by the very things other people wish they had. They literally don’t know how suffocating it is to be wearing your crown~ You often feel like you don’t have autonomy over your own Life. In some instances, you may even have experienced your autonomy getting violated. And it’s so heartbreaking.

At some point in Life, you will suddenly and gradually lose access to all of these beauties and privileges, maybe even some of your talents, babe. All these things that came ever so naturally to you, once you’ve lost ‘em, you will die in spirit, and be reborn with a renewed sense of appreciation for the fact you have always, ALWAYS, been extraordinary👿

tulips of happiness – King of Swords

Whether you are a girl or a boy or straight or gay or whatever, you are an ally of the world’s Divine Feminine aenergy. Do not worry about losing your glory; it will aaalll come back stronger and sparklier once you’ve graduated the University of Hell a.k.a Saturn Return🪐

It is part of your Soul’s Blueprint to experience losing privileges, perhaps money, talents, friends, freedom, hair, weight, and everything else, momentarily. This period of your Life—whether it’s your first or second Saturn Return—can be likened to a pregnant woman who’s now restricted from drinking, eating, doing, or even being near certain things. She’s not so free, but for all the right reasons; she’s protecting her foetus.

This Saturn Return period of your Life where you’re experiencing losing yourself is like a pregnancy where you’re gestating a newer, stronger, clearer, more confident version of yourself. The restrictions put around you are meant to suffocate you further, enough for you to want a breakthrough. All so you can become a pure Pink Radiance of a miracle this miserable world needs, for that is your purpose for being born🌷

Shine on, Pink Diamond~

ESSENCE OF BEING HUMAN🔻💗

the script you chose – Green Historian (Herodotus)

path of self-transcendence – Priestess of Prosperity

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Magic Worker

VIBE: Po teaching the tribe to be THEMSELVES

seeds of beauty in you – 9 of Cups Rx

Within you are seeds of a luxurious lifestyle that you ought to nurture slowly throughout the course of your Life. You may have come from a background of lack just to make this whole scenario more exciting (to us as Souls contrasts are exceedingly attractive when thinking of a spiritual breakthrough). With that, you could’ve grown up with lots of daydreaming about feeling fulfilled—emotionally fulfilled.

Though you may have daydreamed about luxurious environments and things and situations, at the core of everything, all you yearn for is a feeling of safety; stability; of having just enough…of being enough, in fact…all because you weren’t emotionally nurtured as a child. You were the kid who were neglected by everybody, both the adults and your peers.

You felt unseen most of your Life. But even those who acted like they saw you, somehow the view was inaccurate. You felt this way because you didn’t understand yourself either. Children learn about themselves through the feedback of their environment; so the ones who were mostly neglected…how could such children even begin to learn to comprehend their identity?

Because you didn’t really understand yourself, it was difficult to manifest properly. In your psyche, there are way too many threads of wishes that are tangled up, causing you to manifest clashing Realities…and then disappoint you…

blooming in spite of muddy water – XXI The World

The reason for this difficulty is that you needed to learn and discover for yourself the true Essence of being alive. You are essentially God’s messenger to help Humans overcome their addiction to material possessions. Omaigosh if you know how TikTok shopping culture is making people poorer and more miserable in the emotional, I’m sure this will ring a bell in your Soul Memory.

People who grew up poor are the main target of evil marketing because they crave that feeling of ‘having’. Sometimes, it’s a feeling of having things—trendy things; some other times, it’s a feeling of having friends—cool friends; and some tragical times, of having someone to love—which usually only translates to ONS or casual hookups without any real emotional connection.

Anyway, back to talking about material possessions though, there’s this:

‘Trying to be happy by accumulating possessions is like trying to satisfy hunger by taping sandwiches all over your body.’ – George Carlin

This, is a concept, a Reality, you’ve needed to learn and fully comprehend, and then unravel by means of your personal spiritual transformation. That way you can be an example and a guide to others. Reminiscent of Uncle George himself, you’re somebody who holds an Elder Archetype aenergy about you. You’re ‘worldly’ in the sense that you’re based, well-thinking, and most of all, you can embrace perspectives that are UNIQUE. You’re able to hold a knowledge that encompasses the whole of the Universe itself.

tulips of happiness – 4 of Pentacles

In a sense, know that you are a born leader. Though I sense, you may be more interested in being a thought leader🧠You don’t seem that interested in leading an envoy or a movement of any sort hahaha You’re a loner; you like being in your own company. After all, people are stupid and it’s exhausting to have to interact with them. And that’s all fine~

In the future, when everything’s said and done, you’ll meet your Soul Tribe—people who are just as weird, misunderstood, deep, sombre (probably), wholesome, complex, and loyal such as yourself🫀Your Spirit Guides are really saying: it’s perfectly fine for you not to extend too much compassion for those who aren’t worth your while; hoping you’d calm down some clashing ideas about your personality.

It sounds cruel? No, really; not everybody is worth paying attention to or share affection with. If you do that you’re only going to be sucked dry of Life Force. It’s a similar principal with money spending. Just because you see a lot of items being displayed with attractive, persuasive DISCOUNT signs, doesn’t mean you have to give your attention, or money least of all, to ALL of that. Got it?🤪

‘Even if something is on discount, if you don’t need it, it’s too expensive.’ – Love Marie Escudero’s husband, Govt. Chiz

ESSENCE OF BEING HUMAN🔻🧡

the script you chose – Green Physician (Paracelsus)

path of self-transcendence – Priestess of Intuition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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operationandre · 2 months

Text

Zero Day told through Mitski lyrics.

(LONG POST!!!! moments and scenes will not be in order)

Andre’s last moments.

“And I want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony, and I want to kiss like my heart is hitting the ground” - Townie

— Andre’s last words were asking Cal for permission, for instructions to die. He wanted to die at the exact same time, not a moment before or a moment after. His love for Cal overshadowed everything. His plans to run, the false passports, the foreign money—they were all useless in that moment. He wanted to coincide with cal, to be one with each other. Their blood would share the same floor, mixing together in a last show of their devotion.

The Burning of the Crosses

“You’re my best friend, now I’ve no one to tell how I lost my best friend” - The Frost

— The thought of someone burning their crosses would make Andre and Cal laugh. They would make fun of the perpetrators together, but now they lay under the ground or on a cold metal table in a lab somewhere. There is no one to talk to. There’s a darkness for both of the boys, but it’s different from what they’re used to. Unlike the darkness in Cal’s eyes that used to make Andre’s chest burn, Andre finds this blackness cold and he does not feel anything from it. Unlike the darkness in Andre’s words that would always excite Cal, Cal is bored.

The Reactions of Their Families

“So if you need to be mean, be mean to me” - I Don’t Smoke

— After the massacre, both Andre and Cal’s parents blame themselves, especially after the police question them and ask them how they didn’t notice anything awry. They wish that they had been a source of relief for their boys. In their eyes, Cal and Andre are still their babies, and they do not want to believe they did anything wrong. They want nothing blamed on their boys; they want everything on them.

Andre’s Last Conversation With His Dad

“Lately I’ve been crying like a small child, so please, hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe, please don’t say you love me.” - First Love / Late Spring

— Andre’s eyes have always been focused on Cal. He believed that no one would ever love him, at least not to the extent Cal did. The moment his dad says the words ‘I’m proud of you’ his world almost falls apart. Would his dad understand him? Would his dad be proud of him in his final moments?

Cal’s Diary With the Sitar

“Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?” - Class of 2013

— Cal knew what the outcome of the crime would be. He was aware that he was not coming out, that he truly did not want to come out. He would’ve ended everything the same way no matter if the crime happened or not. He knows Zero Day is coming up soon, and he wants to keep that dream almost completely separate from the way his loved ones know him.

Andre’s Plans vs Cal’s Plans

“But, Big Spoon, you have so much to do, and I have nothing ahead of me” - Your Best American Girl

— Andre and Cal have very different views for both the future and the present. Andre works, has gotten into college, and is in multiple clubs and track. he wanted to run after Zero Day. He wanted to live. On the other hand, Cal had nothing, no job, no outlook for after Zero Day. He knew of Andre’s wants, but he also knew it was never a choice for him.

Final Moments

“I just need a quiet place where I can scream how I love you” - I Want You

— The ultimate show of devotion from the two boys is their deaths. They are surrounded by nothing but quiet, only slightly disturbed by police sirens and a 911 operator. There is nothing in their mind other than one another. Their lives flash behind their eyes and what they see are visions of each other.

Cal’s Hopes for His Family and Rachel

“Maybe when you tell your friends, you can tell them what you saw in me, and not the way I am” - Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart

— While Cal doesn’t care what people think of him or what his legacy is, he wants to keep intact the minds and reputations of those he left behind. They shall not be disgraced simply because they trusted him. He even clears their names for the police in his final statement.

The Final Diary

“So why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you stop me and paint it over?” - Why Didn’t You Stop Me?

— Andre and Cal state multiple times that this had to happen, that they have to even the score of life. They blame others, almost explicitly saying there have been moments that should worry people, but they have been allowed to keep going and no one can stop them now.

“I Couldn’t Have Done This With Anyone Else.”

“One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby, tell me ‘don’t’ so I can crawl back in” - First Love / Late Spring

— Cal is it for Andre; Andre is it for Cal. They exist in each others’ minds but not as parasites, simply as another train of thought. Anything the other says is gospel; every word the boys say sounds like it is coming from one mouth, one mind. They will do whatever the other person tells them to do.

Andre and Cal Finding One Another in Life

“Little boys cry and look around for comfort, and always get what they want” - Real Men

— The moment Cal and Andre meet, they know they have found their person. They will never judge one another, and they have shared experiences. They hate together, and they love together.

Cal Defending Andre to Rachel

“But with everybody watching us, our every move, we keep it secret, won’t let them have it” - Once More to See You

— Cal knows the truth behind the reason for recording, but he refuses to tell Rachel for multiple reasons. He doesn’t speak on anything until she mentions Andre. he quickly moves the blame to himself, saying he’s insecure and needs attention. He knows he and Andre are being observed and how others find them weird or off putting, but he refuses to play into it. Their true thoughts are reserved for one another. No one else is allowed in.

“We’ll be like God.” “No, we will be God.”

“You believe me like a god, I’ll destroy you like I am” - I’m Your Man

— The two boys view themselves as something greater than life, as something beyond religion and beyond belief. They take everything into their hands: their peer’s lives and the balance of the world.

The End.

#andre kriegman #zero day #zero day 2003 #zeroday #cal gabriel #caldre #calvin gabriel #ben coccio #my writing #my words #mitski #lyrics #sad as fuck

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blakeswritingimagines · 7 months

Text

Until I Found You

A/N: No real plot but smitten Aemond wouldn't get out of my head so enjoy!

Word Count: 4.7k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

"My mother had a long talk with me- a…heart-to-heart if you would." Alicent's face fills his mind's eye. He can see her smile, her concern. "She tells me about your…qualities: your sense of responsibility, your kindness. She says you'd be a good match for me. We'd be a good match. We're a good match for the realm. You're a good match for me." His voice lowers a little. His eyes are locked onto yours, studying you. He tries to read you. You stare at him with your deep striking eyes, your face is soft and gentle. You tilt your head as if waiting for his response. You have such a gentle look in your eyes that can melt a man's heart and charm him. "I…I…" He has been rendered speechless 'Is my mother truly convinced that you would be such a good match?' He can't help but think "You seem so…so…" He fumbles. It feels like a lifetime when you pause as if waiting for him to respond, and the world seems to freeze.

And he feels like a young boy again, filled with such butterflies in his stomach out of nowhere in a way he's never felt before. You are far more than a pretty face. He had noticed when you are near that the air itself smells like lilac blossoms. You smiled at him, a smile that speaks of pure innocence, and of your true nature. As if you could read his mind, you spoke the words that would melt his heart. Your voice is soft and full of curiosity. "Yes, my prince?" A soft smile plays on your lips, and you tilt your head in what he thinks is the cutest way, waiting for him to say more. His stuttering and pauses make you want him even more, he seemed to be so charming and sweet. His breath catches in his throat. Your voice has an effect on him that he did not know possible. His hands tremble feeling something he's never felt before coming over him, every inch of your body is calling to him, your smell, your caress, your gentle touches, your innocent voice.

You are a vision from the gods themselves, and he cannot believe you are so close to him, your hand on his neck, your face so close to his, your eyes filling his vision. He can’t take his eyes off you. Every time he thinks it couldn’t get better, you did something that makes him think otherwise. He can imagine how good your lips would feel on his. He feels like there is so much he wants to do, your touch is like a song of beauty that moves through his body, and your voice is a melody for his ears. He feels a sudden rage overcome him. It fills him with a desire for only one thing, to keep you. Keep you as his and no one else’s. You are perfect and he will give up everything he has lived for just to have you. The thought of someone else touching you makes him sick. Someone else kissing you, it is intolerable. He will have you. His mind was no longer his own. The touch and smell of you were enough to send him into a trance, a dark thought had started to form in his head. 'You belong to me,' he thought. And help if anyone should claim otherwise. "I believe my mother is right, my sweet. We will indeed make a good, no a great match and shall wed." He is too caught up in his new thinking of you to notice any concern you may have at his words.

You look at him, with a hint of doubt in your eyes. You were unsure of how to respond to the ideal he's built up. You were unsure If he truly desired you, or just the idea of you. You hesitate as if trying to find words to express your feelings. Your breath catches short as your heart races and feel a nervous tinge of uncertainty of everyone accepting you. He senses the moment the fear enters your eyes. He wants to reassure you. He does truly. You are everything he has ever wanted. In his mind, his heart beats faster so that you might just hear it. You have suddenly become the center of his very existence. "My love, please do not misunderstand. I desire you. I cannot put it into words or actions as I desire to do quite yet. My dear, you are all I want in this world and more…" he senses your hesitation, and his heart is almost ripped from his chest. It is a strange sensation, but he cannot help but notice the beauty in your eyes when they are filled with such confusion and trepidation. It almost makes him want you more. He feels compelled to speak again. "My love, do not worry, your confusion is not lost on me. I know with all my heart that I shall love you always and forever, that you are my very life and I could not bear to live without you."

With a shy demeanor, you step away from him, backing away, seemingly overwhelmed by the passion that is sweeping through him. Although you can see a hint of longing and desire in his eyes, you lightly shake your head in disbelief. "Are you sure, my prince?" The sudden change in attitude is almost puzzling. Your eyes widened, as you felt a rush of unfamiliar emotions you were not really used to. You were hesitant to trust this, but there was something about him that was hard to resist. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let go as he came closer to you. You couldn't stop yourself from trembling and biting your lip as you watched him. Was that how you felt? There was so much emotion between you he thought. He can feel the rage building inside him. It is not easy when you say these things. He is not used to rejection from anything. And he couldn’t let this sit. So this was how you wanted to play? He smiled cruelly, and he would take what he wanted from you…

As months passed and once the word was given, Alicent planned the wedding to be an elaborate affair. With the nobility of the Realm gathered to witness your union, the ceremony was as grand. The ceremony was held in the large Sept of King's Landing, where you were united in the eyes of gods and men. Your family and friends were in attendance, along with many of the most important and notable members of the various houses and factions of the Realm. As you looked around the room, you felt a sense of pride and happiness, and you couldn't wait for your new life together to begin. You were dressed in royal attire, and looking as regal as ever in your white gown. You stood before Aemond with a look of woe on your face, the look in your eyes was distant like you were trying to hide from everyone. But you also seemed nervous, as if you couldn't stand all the prestige watching you so closely.

He was now your husband, as he had desired. You were his, and no one would ever take you from him. Now that you were his, he could do with you whatever he so desired. No one would ever steal you from him, or challenge his power over you. It was a thought that filled his head with a feeling of pure joy. And he could no longer remember how he ever lived without you at his side. You were his one and only his. His new life had just begun, and he could not wait to see what he might do to you. You smiled warmly, looking at Aemond with all your affection and devotion. It was strange, as if something had shifted within you. Something that was almost palpable. You were no longer afraid of his life and desires but rather embraced them with an open heart and a trusting nature. You had truly become one with him now. He could do with you whatever he pleased, and your feelings and needs were secondary to his own. This was truly love.

The feast that took place in the grand hall to celebrate your wedding was filled with merriment and laughter. It seemed a fitting way to ring in a union the likes of which the realm had not seen in many a year. The servants were seen bringing out an endless array of dishes and desserts to satisfy the appetites of the guests. In addition, there were ample amounts of the finest wines and drinks to toast your happy union. There was much to celebrate, and the guests kept at it throughout the night, long into the early morning hours. You both sat together, and you leaned up to him, you were his and he was yours. But he would no longer play a game of subtlety with you. This was his chance to fully exert his power over you. He leaned in close to you, whispering into your ear. It would be your first taste of what was to come. Now that you were his, he would finally begin to make you his own, he would show you who you were to belong to, and what he was to possess, the room is loud with the sounds of the party, but with this single whisper his voice breaks through the noise and makes your body tremble. He leans in close enough to kiss your cheek and whispers in the softest voice. ”My love, I’ve been wanting to say this to you for so long now, and now that I have you in my grasp, I can say it with all the certainty in the world. You… you are mine. Forever and always. All of you.”

That simple yet powerful statement was enough to make your whole world light up. Your heart skipped a beat as you heard those words, taking your breath away and sending delicious chills down your spine. You trembled, leaning closer to him so that your faces were only inches apart, your eyes fluttering with the passion and desire he filled your heart with. Your body responded instinctively to his touch, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms and his alone. You leaned closer to him, breathless and feeling pure excitement. You could feel the heat of his breath and the intensity of his words. They swept through you, causing heat to rise to your very core. Your lips parted as you took in a deep breath, and you felt your body respond in kind. It was as if you had been waiting your whole life for him to claim you as his own. He took your face with both hands, his lips almost touching yours, close enough to feel your breath, your warmth. He kept talking in this soft, quiet voice, wanting you to hear every word. With your body so close and responsive, it was taking all of his wits to resist taking you in front of everyone. The feeling of having you completely submit to him, this feeling of pure power and authority he had over you, was almost too much. And he wanted to see you break completely under it, and no one else would ever touch you, ever again.

The months had passed, and the feeling of excitement and euphoria had not left him. The marriage had been the best thing that had ever been decided for him. But it was not enough. You were more than a wife. You were his possession. He made sure to remind you of this. He would touch you in a manner he felt was necessary to remind you of his control. He would kiss, grope, and hold you wherever and whenever it suited him. It was his right, he was possessive of you. In public he is always close, his hands touch you in places and ways that are meant to remind everyone of where you belong. At times he would pull you close without explanation, just to get the feeling. Behind closed doors, it was even worse. His hands never left you, either around you or on your body. Your very presence was needed for him to feel whole, and he was addicted to the feeling. You were like his drug, and your body was his to use however he pleased. “You will never be with anyone else, only me.”

Your body stirred with such heat and passion that you felt as if you might faint. Your skin crawled with goosebumps as you imagined all the ways he would possess you, all the things you would let him do to you. You wanted to be his in every way possible. You wanted to feel only his touch, nothing else. You were addicted and craved his needs. You could not deny him anything, and you wouldn't even try. “Please… please don't stop…” You whisper in a breathy, excited tone, your body trembling with anticipation of the touch that you desperately crave. There was a pleading tone in your voice as you were begging him to continue. You can feel the heat coursing through your body, your skin was hot and glowing with desire. You need him, more than anything. Aemond smirked at your response, feeling the warmth of your body against his fingers and the softness of your breasts in his hands. He knew how much you loved being touched by him, and he couldn't resist teasing you just a bit before continuing the intimate moment together. "Oh, I won't stop now," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "I plan on showing you exactly what kind of pleasure I can give you." He leaned down to kiss your neck, his fingers still gently massaging your breasts while one hand reached down to unbutton your dress, revealing more of your skin beneath it begging to be marked by him once more. "You're so beautiful when you're this eager for me," he whispered into your ear.

Your heart raced as you felt his lips against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. The sound of his voice sent chills down your spine, making your body tense up in anticipation of what he had planned for you. As he pushed your dress off slowly, revealing more of you to him, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. "Show me how much you love me… how much you want me…"you whispered, your voice barely audible, "I want to see all of you… I want to be yours completely." As he continued to tease and touch you, your body began to throb with desire, yearning for more of his attention. With a final flourish, Aemond pulled off your dress entirely, leaving you standing naked before him. Your perfect curves were bared to his gaze, and he couldn't help but admire them for a moment before moving closer to press his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply as he took in your scent. His other hand moved to cup one of your hips firmly, pulling you closer to him while he looked over every inch of your body with hungry eyes. "There you are," he whispered, "Just as I like." His voice was low and rough, "So perfectly angelic." He ran his finger along the curve of your waist before trailing it down to tease the swell of your ass, giving it a light slap for emphasis.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and arousal at his intense gaze. You bit your lower lip nervously, feeling exposed and vulnerable but also incredibly turned on by the thought of him owning every part of you. "Yes… I am here for you… I am all yours…" you whispered, "Do whatever you want with me… I trust you completely." Your voice was barely audible, but you meant every word of those three simple sentences. As he slapped your ass, you let out a small moan of pleasure, unable to control yourself any longer. "Please… don't hold back anything from me." At the sight of you standing naked before him, Aemond's eyes widened in pure lust as he took in every inch of your exposed form. Your body seemed to radiate an intoxicating mixture of innocence and sensuality, drawing him in and making him feel almost powerless against his urges. He wanted nothing more than to claim every last inch of you as his own, marking you as his possession and showing everyone who dared to look that you belonged to him. "Please… please fuck me…" you whispered, your voice trembling with need, "I want to feel your cock inside of me… I want to be filled up by you."

Aemond's eyes darkened at your words, and he growled low in his throat as he finally dropped his pants, revealing his hardened erection to you. He reached out and grabbed your hips firmly, pulling you close to him until your back was pressed against the wall behind you. His hands roamed over your ass cheeks before he finally entered you with a grunt, pushing into your tight entrance forcefully. "Fuck me," he grunted, "I'm going to fill you up completely." His large hands gripped your hips tightly as he began to thrust into your depths, driving himself deeper into your wet heat with each stroke. Feeling his thick cock push into you forcefully, you let out a small cry of surprise mixed with pleasure. The sudden invasion caused a mix of pain and ecstasy to surge through your body, causing your muscles to clench around his length involuntarily. As he began to fuck you relentlessly, your mind went blank, consumed solely by the intense pleasure coursing through your body. "Ah yes… fuck me, fill me up… I'm yours… I belong to you…" you moaned, your voice becoming increasingly breathless as he claimed your body completely.

His hands gripped onto your hips tightly as he continued to pound into you, his large member driving deep into your wet folds with each powerful stroke. He could feel your tight walls clenching around him each time he pulled out and pushed back in, coating himself thoroughly in your slick essence as he claimed ownership over every inch of your body. "Yes, that's my girl," he growled, "So tight and perfect for me." His balls slapped against your ass cheeks with each thrust, leaving a trail of precum dripping down your sensitive flesh as he continued to dominate and control every aspect of this intimate moment between them. "I'm going to make you come undone for me," he promised. As he continued to drive into you with brutal force, your body responded instinctively, clenching around his cock and milking it for all its worth. The combination of pain and pleasure was nearly overwhelming, causing your mind to become hazy and your thoughts to blur together as you focused solely on the intense sensations coursing through your body. "Oh god... yes... fill me up... make me yours completely..." you cried out, your voice weakening as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you entirely. "I belong to you... I am yours..." The thought of being completely devoted and owned by Aemond brought forth an intense rush of arousal within you, causing your juices to flow freely from your pussy as he relentlessly fucked you.

Aemond's harsh grunts echoed in the room as he continued to pound into you, his large cock stretching your tight walls to their limit. He could feel your walls clenching around him tighter with each thrust, coating him completely in your wetness as he drove himself deeper into your body. With each powerful stroke, he felt like he was branding himself into your very soul, leaving no doubt in either of your minds about the extent of his possession over you. "That's right, my little whore," he growled, "You belong to me completely." His hands gripped onto your hips tightly, guiding him expertly as he continued to pump into you relentlessly. As he continued to pound into you mercilessly, your body became increasingly slick with your arousal, causing your walls to quiver and contract around his thick cock. The intensity of the pleasure was almost too much to bear, causing your mind to become clouded and your thoughts to drift aimlessly as you focused solely on submitting yourself fully to Alaric's dominance. "Yes… yes… I'm yours… I belong to you…" you whispered brokenly, "Please… please fill me up completely…" Your voice trailed off into a series of moans and gasps as he continued to fuck you with unbridled passion, driving himself even deeper into your waiting pussy.

Aemond's harsh breathing and heavy panting were the only sounds in the room except for the sound of skin slapping against skin as he continued to impale himself upon your wetness. He could feel his balls slapping against your ass cheeks with each powerful thrust, filling the room with the sound of his primal masculinity as he claimed complete ownership over every inch of your body. "Always so tight... so perfect for me," he growled, "I'm going to make you come undone for me... I'm going to fill you up so completely that there won't be any part of you left untouched by my cock." As he continued to fuck you with unrelenting force, your body began to shudder with anticipation, your mind becoming lost in a haze of pleasure and submission. The thought of being completely possessed by Aemond and belonging to him completely sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your inner walls to clench tightly around his thick member as he showed no signs of slowing down. "Fill me up… fill me up completely…" you pleaded breathlessly, "Make me yours… make me yours forever…" Your voice trailed off into a chorus of moans and gasps as he continued to claim your body as his own, driving himself deeper into your slick depths with each powerful stroke. As he continued to fuck you relentlessly, your orgasm approached rapidly, causing your body to quake and shiver uncontrollably in anticipation of the intense climax building within you.

Aemond's grunts grew louder and more animalistic as he continued to pound into you without mercy, his large member pulsing inside your tight entrance with each powerful stroke. He could feel your walls clenching around him tighter and tighter with each passing second, coating him completely in your wetness as he showed no sign of stopping or slowing down. "Mine... all mine," he growled, "And I'll never let anyone take you away from me." His hands gripped onto your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continued to drive himself deeper into your waiting pussy, pushing himself as far as he could go until finally. He could feel the approaching climax building within both of you and knew that soon he would release his load deep within your waiting pussy, marking you as his possession once again. "Yes... I'll fill you up completely... there will be no doubt in anyone's mind who owns this sweet little cunt," he growled, "And when I'm done, there won't be a single inch of you left unclaimed by me."

Aemond's pace increased leaving a trail of hot cum dripping down your ass as he claimed complete ownership over every inch of your body. The sight of his large member buried deep within your tight pussy was enough to make any man envious, and Aemond knew that he held the ultimate power over you now. "Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, "I'm going to fill you up with my seed." His hands gripped onto your hips tightly, guiding him towards his climax as he prepared to release inside of you, marking you as his forever. As he neared his climax, Aemond's movements grew more frantic, his hips bucking wildly as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. The feeling of being surrounded by warmth and slickness was incredibly stimulating, causing his cock to twitch and throb with desire as he emptied his load deep within your awaiting womb. With a loud grunt, he released a torrent of hot cum into your tight entrance, filling you up completely and marking you as his possession for eternity. "There... there's my girl," he growled, "Now you're truly mine... completely mine." He brought you over to the bed, spent but satisfied, as he reveled in the knowledge that nothing could ever separate them from one another again.

As Aemond filled your tight pussy with his thick seed, you could feel the warmth and fullness enveloping your insides, causing your body to tremble in pleasure and submission. The thought of being completely marked and owned by him caused an intense surge of pleasure to course through your body, causing your orgasm to crescendo as you surrendered completely to his dominance. "Ahh… ahhh… I'm yours… I belong to you… Please don't let go of me… please stay inside of me…" you cried out. "I'll stay inside of you... I'll fill you up completely... I'll never leave you... I'll always be a part of you..." He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips before speaking again. "You'll never be able to get rid of me now. I'm a part of you now." He rested back into the plush mattress and held you, letting his cock press against your womb as he took a moment to catch his breath after the intense fucking he had just given you. "And you'll never be able to forget who you belong to."

As you open your eyes, you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction, your breath coming in quick, sharp intervals as you tried to catch your breath. Your body is still pulsating with arousal, the lingering effects of his touch still lingering on your skin. You smiled at Aemond weakly. You lay in his arms, completely exhausted but utterly content. His hands roam over your soft skin, caressing you, reminding you of the love and passion that you shared together. You felt secure and content with him, safe and content with the way he made you feel. As he stroked your flesh in just the right way, you closed your eyes, breathing slowly and deeply. he could almost hear your sighs and the sounds of ecstasy as you melted in his arms. The look of ecstasy on your face was what made him so happy. He was proud that he had achieved this, that he was the source of your pleasure and satisfaction. The way his hands caressed your body and the soft sound of your breaths almost put him into a trance as well. Your warm breath on him was a feeling he could never grow enough of. This was what was right for him: a woman all his to do with as he pleased.

He leans close and nuzzles his face into your neck. He whispers into your skin, his breath warm and comforting. "My dear, my love, I cannot believe that you are mine to possess. You are so responsive. You are so accepting. How I have been deprived for so long, I have no idea. I believe I would not have lived a full life had I not met you. Please, my dear, never forget this. Now and always, you belong to me. No one else will ever possess you. You are my princess, my queen. You are mine." Your breaths come in short, sharp gasps as you listen to his words. You feel like you were floating on air, basking in the warmth and safety he radiated just for you. The feeling of him nuzzling his face in your neck sends chills up your spine, making your body arch up against his almost instinctively. You leaned into him, your limbs soft and pliable. “You make me feel like a queen, my prince. You make me feel so adored and loved. I am yours, body and soul, now and always."

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