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spicyllewyn · 7 months

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Kinktober 6. - Mirror sex.

Moon system x F!Reader

Tags & warnings. Mirror sex + hair pulling. (+18)

Word count. 2.8k

Summary. Marc got tired of Steven and Jake breaking his rules.

Kinktober masterlist.

So far, the agreement had been going relatively well. You were in a serious relationship with Marc at first, you met in a café like those silly romantic movies, with the small difference that you almost killed him by spilling your cold drink on him and tripping over him.

Neither of you could deny that things were moving very fast, but everything with him was so ridiculously easy that you weren't afraid to give him your all. You told him about the pet you lost when you were young, about the disagreements with your parents, and the occasional traumatic event in your life. He did the same.

When he told you about Steven and Jake, you joked that he was winning the trauma competition, and he could breathe easy knowing that this was not even close to being an obstacle to your relationship. He could trust you.

Things began to get a bit out of control when everything also became easy with Jake and Steven, each with their own personal charm. You never imagined being with three very different guys, but starting to experience it was a real adventure. The problem was that while you were having fun, they had endless discussions about you and the boundaries they set for each other.

Well, the boundaries that Marc set.

The main and biggest one was that marks on your body were prohibited. He understood that all four were part of the relationship equally, but he also used something he liked to call "privileges of having met you first and being the main reason why everyone is together." Or something like that, he always changed the name for it, the thing is he couldn't help but be a jealous man, he hated that Jake and Steven would forget who you belonged to first.

The first one to break the rule was Steven, unconsciously. You didn't know anyone who was a bigger fan of make-out sessions than him, and when his kisses got deeper, more desperate, he had the habit of holding onto your hips as if you were about to run away at any moment, or as if he wanted to verify that you were real and that you were in his arms, devouring his mouth as if you depended on it to live.

That, combined with the fact that he had a terrible habit of forgetting that his muscles were stronger than he thought. You tried to be as discreet as possible when his fingers left marks on your skin, but with someone as touchy as Jake, it was impossible to keep secrets about your body.

He took it as a challenge, of course. If Steven could break the rules, why couldn't he?

The next day, you could be sure that he saw you as a blank canvas because your neck, your shoulders, and even your breasts were covered in bites and hickeys. You didn't remember him being so aggressive, but maybe pleasure had blinded you.

"What is this?" Marc held your chin, turning your face slightly, just enough to get a better view of your neck.

"It was Jake." You chuckled, still distracted by your phone as you let him guide you, without noticing how his jaw clenched, but feeling his fingers tighten on your jaw.

"Darling?"

Your eyes traveled to him.

"Mhm?"

"Will you come with me to the bedroom? We need to talk."

With a furrowed brow, you obeyed because the hand that held your chin ended up in one of your hands, pulling you as if he were a child wanting to show you something very important.

"Am I in trouble?" You joked as you watched him close the door behind you.

"Sit on the bed."

"Am I...?"

His brown eyes on you were enough for you to obey once again.

"Could you explain to me what the hell is this?" His hand in your hair made you turn your gaze away from the mirror you had in front, leaving the marks in plain sight.

You immediately understood who he was talking to.

Or whom.

"Oh, come on, hermano." Jake rolled his eyes in the mirror's reflection, his arms crossed over his chest. "Steven broke it first."

"False!" The mentioned objected after. It seemed like a competition of who could make Marc lose his patience first. "I would never do something like that."

"Check her hips if you don't believe me."

Raising an eyebrow, Marc released your hair.

"Stand up, sweetheart."

If there's one thing you've learned over time in this relationship, it's that it's not worth objecting when one or all three of them are arguing, especially when you don't even know what the problem is. You stood up slowly, wearing Steven's blue sweater that you slept in, which only covered half of your thighs.

He slowly lifted the edge of the fabric, his fingers brushing your thighs and causing a slight shiver. You could swear you heard him growl when he found the damn marks that fit perfectly with the size of his hands. Some of them were covered by your panties but they were pretty visible, already turning to a purple color.

“I-I didn't even notice those were there!”

“Why can Steven do it and I can't? That’s a damn injustice if you ask me.”

“Fortunately, Jake, I'm not asking you.” He rolled his eyes while you tried to imagine what the other two boys responded to him from the headspace. "On your knees."

The cold of the floor on your skin felt good and you had to look up to meet your boyfriend's chocolate gaze. You never had a problem following his orders.

“The problem here…” His fingers ran through your hair slowly, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. “They are forgetting who you belong to. Who do they think they are to mark my girl like this, huh?” He cooed, the gaze of the other two fixed on him.

Your hands went to the hem of his pants, and when he didn't object, you understood well what he wanted. A small smile spread across your lips as you freed him from his tight black jeans, as well as his underwear.

He wasn't completely hard yet until your tongue ran along his entire length from base to tip.

“I want you to show them who was your first, my love.” Your fingers, as if you were an expert, wrapped around his cock, giving it a squeeze before beginning a slow, up-and-down pace. “Who you think about every fucking time you cum.”

You couldn't see it, but in detail you imagined the way Jake was rolling his eyes.

“It's a punishment for all 3 of you, you understand, don't you, honey?” His eyes boring into you as you kissed all around his cock wetly. “What makes you believe you should allow yourself to be treated that way?”

You parted your lips, taking the head inside before starting to suck. That always gave him chills, the way you didn't rush.

“No-oh.” His fingers tangled in your hair, those soft caresses had stopped. One push of his hand and you had half of his erection inside your mouth. He groaned.

Although you enjoyed taking your time and savoring every inch of Marc, he seemed to be in a hurry, you thought that perhaps the clumsy and aggressive way in which he was directing your head movements was part of the supposed punishment.

Were you supposed to not enjoy that?

“Push deeper.” Jake's voice caught Marc's attention, who a few seconds ago had been distracted by the messy and sloppy way you were sucking him off. He could have sworn there was a point where the only sound in the room was your saliva every time he slid over your tongue.

Marc looked at the mirror with a frown.

“Push harder.” He repeated, looking up. “Steven always fucks her mouth until she cries, if you want to prove your point push harder. Right, Steven?"

The other boy received an elbow against his ribs that forced him to look up. It seems he was enchanted by watching the way your left cheek bulged against the pressure of the head of Marc's lenght against it.

Still distracted, he nodded quickly.

It was that what resulted in you suddenly feeling him push your head harder. The brush against your throat brought tears to your eyes and you heard your boyfriend grunt. He was never so rude.

You didn't complain, though.

You tried your best to relax the muscles in your throat around him, but you were so caught off guard that a couple of gags only did the opposite, feeling you squeeze him every few seconds until he guided your head back.

Saliva ran from your lips to your chin, some drops ending up on your neck. You broke the string of saliva that joined his cock to your mouth by licking your lips.

You sniffed, looking up before giving Marc a smile.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” His fingers wrapped around himself so he could hit your tongue with his heavy member. You kept your tongue out, happy to receive it and hear the wet slapping. “Or does Steven do it better?”

Another movement of his hips was so abrupt that you felt your nose eventually collide with his lower abdomen, having to close your eyes as your tears ran down them. Still, you didn't give up, you didn't use your well-known "signal" to ask for some mercy.

Instead you moved your tongue slowly underneath, you only managed to graze his balls with the tip of it but it was enough to get a gasp from his throat. You held on for more seconds than you thought you were capable of before it was Marc himself who pushed you away.

It took you several seconds to even out your desperate breathing, you wiped your lips on the sleeve of Steven's sweater.

"Stand up." He ordered. His chest rising and falling rapidly. Jake's smirk on the other side of the mirror screamed at him that he knew. He knew Marc would finish stupidly quickly if he kept fucking your throat like that.

You swallowed hard before standing on shaky legs, the intense heat between your legs beginning to burn through your entire body, without receiving any kind of attention the only thing you could feel was the way your insides clenched around nothing.

"Turn around." Your cheeks took on a reddish color as you remembered the two pairs of eyes that were on you on the other side of the reflection. You slowly turned your back on him, your fingers gripping the wooden cabinet that held the huge mirror. “You better not close your eyes, I want you to look at them.”

Marc's hands took care of the job, pulling the hem of the sweater up to your waist and pulling your panties down to your ankles. You didn't need instructions to spread your legs and raise your ass for him.

He positioned himself behind your body, holding his cock for help. The tip separated your lips and you flinched when it brushed your swollen clit, it was just a couple of brushes as if he wanted to collect your juices on it in order to make penetration easier.

Although with you dripping and him full of your saliva, at this point it was just his pettiness and his desire to make you beg. You lifted your hips higher.

Marc looked down, his hand positioning itself exactly over Steven's finger marks and with a single movement you felt him slide inside you. Your legs trembled as you received him this deep and rough way, an action that you recognized as more typical of Jake.

“M-Marc, fuck, Marc.” You stammered as your body tried to get used to his size. No matter how many times you had done this, it was like your body insisted on giving him that death grip that drove him crazy.

"That's it." He caught her bottom lip between his teeth in a lousy attempt to silence her gasps. “Louder, baby, remind them who's fucking you.”

Somehow you felt like Jake and Steven's eyes burned into your skin. You couldn't look in the mirror, not while you were babbling Marc's name between moans, with that look that made it obvious how cockdrunk you were with just a couple of thrusts.

When Marc hit that sweet spot that made you vibrate from head to toe, your eyes closed automatically, your head falling downward.

"No." He growled, his hand rising to place it in your hair where he tangled his fingers. The sudden tug he gave to your locks made you snap your head up and let out a loud gasp, your eyes snapping open. "Look at them."

On the other side Jake was leaning slightly so he could be at your face level, analyzing every small expression of pleasure he saw in you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are dilated, and your lips are red from biting them so much.

Steven was too lost in his own thoughts to object anything, the truth is that he was enjoying this new angle he had to see his cock splitting you and making you whimper more than he would like.

“Tell them how good I'm making you feel, honey.” He cooed, his fingers giving your hair a harder tug to force you to keep your head up. “Remind them who was the first to break that tight little pussy.”

You stifled a moan, making your bottom lip bleed with a bite.

“Tell them.” He growled, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you feared your body was going to give up at any moment.

“I-It was you, Marc.” You whimpered in pleasure as his thrusts pushed your body forward, you were already on your tiptoes so as not to end up with your entire body against the furniture.

“Repeat it, I want them to listen to you.” His entire length remained still inside you, brushing against that spot that made you lose your mind. "Louder."

Your parted lips took in deep gasps of air and you had to swallow hard to recover your voice by moistening your throat a little.

“It’s you M-Marc.” He didn't give your hair a break, he was pulling with his fingers so hard that it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Marc! A-Ah, fuck. It’s you, it’s you, only you.”

Bold of you to assume that Jake wouldn't have that in mind the next time he had his turn with you.

“Fuck her harder.” Marc looked at the mirror when the opposing voice caught his attention. “Come on, she can take it.” A mocking smile appeared on his lips, only irritating Marc even more.

Still, he obeyed.

You could hear the slapping between your bodies every time he thrusted into you. Your legs were threatening to stop supporting your body weight as they began to shake, your entire body feeling small spasms as you got closer and closer to the end.

“Marc?” Steven's soft voice caught the attention of the other two. His pupils were dilated and there was an adorable blush on hid cheeks. "Touch her."

Marc grunted when he realized that this wasn't the punishment he'd originally thought, but who was he to say no to Steven? The hand that was holding your hip slowly slid between your legs, separating your pussy lips with his fingers and then pressing his thumb against your sensitive clit.

He immediately felt your little hole tighten around him.

“Circles.”

“I know how to touch her, Steven.” He growled in your ear, only reminding you of the pair who were probably enjoying the show. The pleasure you were experiencing was too much to rescue the few grams of shame you might have somewhere on your body.

Your nails scratched the wood of the furniture in front of you.

“Cum all over me, honey.” He managed to whisper between moans. Two more thrusts of his body snatching the air from your lungs. “I bet they’ll like it.”

And that was enough for the wave of pleasure to make your body tingle from head to toe, your walls milking Marc until he followed you immediately after, filling you with his warm, thick liquid, which he pushed deeper inside you with a couple more strokes.

For a few seconds the only thing you heard along with the ringing in your ears was Marc's heavy breathing. After a moment his fingers gripped your hips, drawing your attention.

He gave you one more thrust and you squealed, sensitive, overstimulated.

“Marc.” You complained, looking up at the mirror in front of you once more as you tried to catch your breath.

On the other side, Jake's smile greeted you, almost playful.

“Let's see which name you can shout the loudest, princesa.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

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narcissisticmf · 11 months

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draw me | benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

description: you ask benedict to draw you, wearing almost nothing.

trigger warnings: nudity, sexual content, seductive behavior, oral sex, etc. please do not proceed in reading if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 1.8k

You walked through the halls with servants of the Bridgerton family, standing outside the opened door to Benedict's study, where he was working behind a canvas.

"You have a caller, Mr. Bridgerton," Stated the servant, bowing his head. You walked into the room, in a silk dress, a silver chain was dangling beautifully around your neck. You stared at Benedict with a soft expression, eyes gentle and calm.

"Leave us," Benedict offered a generous grin to his servants as they left the room, latching the door shut behind them. You continued gazing at him, never turning away, not even once.

"Am I too early? I didn't realize you were already working on something else," You explained as he stared at you with the utmost loving gaze.

"No, not at all, please, have a seat," He gestured to the sofa beside you. "Can I get you a drink?" Benedict asked politely after you planted your bottom against the soft cushions.

"I'm quite well for now, thank you," You admitted.

"Shall we get started then?" He smiled. You nodded softly. "I'd like you to lay down, on your back," He instructed as you did as told, you followed every word that he spoke. Your stomach bubbled with ease and excitement.

Benedict stared at you for a little while, his fingers gripping his chin as his eyes squinted, scanning your body's position. He walked over to you with a gentle demeanor.

"Permission to touch you?" He asked as he looked at you, his gaze never broke from you.

You looked up to him and nodded softly, "Yes."

Benedict gently grasped your wrist and moved your arm to lay against the top of your head. He stepped back and examined your position, smiling.

"Benedict?" You called softly after he had turned around to head back to his canvas, that was propped up on an easel. He turned around with asked 'what' with his eyes, pupils blown out.

"Might I make a small suggestion?" You asked and he nodded. "Wouldn't the image be more raw if my form wasn't so.. cladded?"

Benedict did his best to fight the growing smile. He agreed to your suggestion, as long as you were alright and comfortable. He made sure that you were one hundred percent on board with it.

After confirming your wishes, you stood up from the sofa and lifted the dress from the bottom, over your head, tossing the silk material across the room, beside the windows. You removed all your undergarments, and soon became completely vulnerable. Your breasts laid naturally against your ribcage. Benedict admired you, his eyes traveling up and down your exposed body.

You laid back against the sofa and fixed yourself to be in the form which Benedict had you in moments ago. All that was against your skin was a silver chain. Your hair was down and curled, the way your servants did it the morning of.

Benedict did his best to fight the smile that was against his lips. You smiled softly, but soon it ceased, wanting to keep a serious expression for the final product of the piece.

"Does an artist often blush when drawing one of their subjects?" You grinned mischievously as Benedict let out a small giggle.

"Shh," He hushed you and continued painting away. He managed to get every curve, every beautiful detail amongst your body, matching your skintone perfectly. He even got the subtle glassiness in your eyes and the way the sunlight reflected against your body and about the room.

You were unsure if it was the temperature of the room or the fact that you were at your most vulnerable in front of a man, but your nipples hardened and Benedict took notice of this. He smirked, a lopsided one and stared at you for a moment, ceasing his motions of the paintbrush.

"Are you cold?" He questioned.

"Uhm, no, why?" You asked.

"'Tis my duty as the artist to make sure that my subject is comfortable and satisfied in all ways possible," He replied with a grin.

You smiled softly as you watched him continue to illustrate. He was so focused, looking to you and back at the canvas every few seconds.

Finishing the image, Benedict smiled and turned his easel around so that you could see it. Your lips curved into a grin as you saw how beautiful the painting was.

"It's beautiful, Benedict," You replied, still lying there, unclothed.

"Thank you, Miss. Y/N," He replied with a smug grin as he stared at you, admiring your body. "Will you.. uhm.. be getting back into your dress now?"

You stared at him for a moment, thinking. "If you wish it," You whispered.

"I certainly do not, but do you?" Benedict asked.

"No," You replied quickly. He smiled, his most famous lopsided grin. You slowly arose from the sofa and noticed how Benedict's eyes were glued to you. You walked towards him and noticed he was backing into the bookshelf behind him, pressing his hands against it, for leverage.

"Permission to touch you, Miss. Y/L/N?" He breathed out, almost desperate.

You leaned forward to whisper into his ear, "Yes."

Benedict hastily wrapped his arms lowly around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. You cupped his face and molded your lips with his perfectly. He tasted of brandy and mint. His hands moved down your bare back and towards your bum, gripping your cheeks softly. You released a whimper against his mouth as you pulled back, resting your chin to his shoulder. Your lips parted, to allow soft whines and moans to escape. Benedict moved his lips down your neck and across your shoulder, burying his face into your skin.

He slowly stepped forward, guiding you to the sofa you'd be lying on while Benedict was painting. You sat against it while he begun to remove his coat, tossing it beside your silk dress. You stared at him, eyeing his body up and down. He smirked and removed his suspenders, then his blouse overhead, tossing it to the side. He unzipped the side of his pants and kicked them off effortlessly. Soon, he was left is absolutely nothing.

The sun was setting outside, creating a beautiful reflection of light against Benedict's skin. You smiled as he walked towards the couch, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You kissed him back and gripped his biceps, pushing him to sit beside you. You wasted no time and straddled his waist, draping your arms around his neck, molding your lips perfectly against his.

You'd forgotten about everything; the servants just outside the door, the painting, the fact that your actions were so scandalous that both your life and Benedict's could be ruined if anyone found out. You were focused on him and only him, it was tranquil and comfortable. You felt safer than you had in a long time.

Benedict's hands were holding your sides, slowly dragging his fingers to your back, tracing your skin lightly. You moved your hips with his softly, making him groan quietly into your mouth.

Without taking his lips from yours, he pushed your to lay against your back, so that he was on top of you. You pressed your fingers against his face, engrossed in the taste of him.

Benedict pulled back to admire your body a little long. He noticed how hardened your nipples had become. He lowered his head, without breaking eye contact and placed his lips around your left breast, sucking on your nipple. You whimpered, leaning your head back as the arousal begun to stick to your inner thighs. His eyes were on you the entire time. He moved from your left to your right, repeating the same actions.

You leaned your head back against the cushions, releasing moans that were soon suppressed by Benedict's palm. You closed your eyes and used on hand to push through his hair, gripping it softly.

He dragged his wet lips down your stomach, around your navel and towards your heat. You released a shaky breath as his breath fanned against you. You slowly spread your legs to make it easier access for him. He slipped one finger into your mouth, making you blink in surprise.

"Suck on it. We don't want any unwanted ears hearing us, do we?" Benedict stated as he looked up to you, only raising his eyes. You nodded and begun to suck on his finger, hoping it would be enough to keep you quiet.

He pressed his mouth against your private, using his tongue to toy with your folds. It took a lot for you to keep quiet, but luckily his finger was doing the trick. You closed your eyes as let the feeling consume you. You wrapped your legs around Benedict's shoulders as he moved his lips and tongue against your strings.

Despite his finger keeping you silenced, there was still a beautiful melody within your whines that escaped into the atmosphere.

After a little while, Benedict arose and removed his finger from your mouth, using it to softly graze across your folds. You bit your tongue, having no desire for anyone to hear, but there was adrenaline in that, in knowing you could be caught or heard.

Benedict was on top of you, yet again and held your side with one hand, pressing his lips against yours. You hummed at the taste of your own heat, finding it sweet yet savory at the same time.

You felt Benedict slip effortlessly inside of you. You gasped into his mouth, feeling so many ecstasies all at once. He moved his hips to and fro, feeling how loose you'd been. The comfort in him and his actions was unlike anything you'd ever felt before or experienced.

"Benedict.." You moaned into his mouth as he continued his motions. He was a moaning mess as well, perhaps that was why he was kissing you the whole time.

"You feel absolutely wonderful, Y/N," Benedict whispered through a broken moan.

You had locked eyes with him, as the two of you became close to undoing. You felt your stomach unravel all the knots, reaching your climax. Benedict swiftly pulled out of you, releasing his sticky load against your stomach.

You were both out of breath as he smiled down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He reached onto the ground to grab a cloth, gently wiping his essence off of you. He was sure to be careful, knowing that you must've been sensitive.

"That was perfect," You whispered, taking notice that the sun was already set and the moon was the only think illuminating the darkness of night.

Benedict smiled, chuckling lightly as he pressed a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Perhaps, we should do this again sometime."

Smiling, you nodded.

a/n: hi, cuties!! so i just started watching bridgerton and i absolutely LOVE benedict! he's the sweetest character that i think i've ever seen and couldn't wait to write something for him! i'm sorry i haven't been posting much, work has been really crazy as well as my mental health. i hope you're all doing good! thank you so much for reading! — angelina. <33

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twola · 28 days

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may i request some slow and lazy spooning sex with high honor arthur? with some thorough aftercare at the end?😳

The first vestiges of the dawn creep through the canvas of the tent, the red-purple light from the east spills across a small hole in the fabric. You blink yourself awake, clutching at the old quilt that covers you.

Stretching in the cot, you realize quickly that though the morning chill rolls inside the flimsy walls of the tent, you are warm.

Incredibly warm. Warm and secure and, lord, it’s wonderful. A heavy arm slung over your waist keeps you grounded as you are unable to stifle a small sound as you arch your back slightly.

“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.”

You smile, the arm round your waist tightening as his voice is still hoarse with sleep.

“When did’ya get back?”

His lips press against your neck as he draws you impossibly close, so that all of you is plastered against all of him.

“Late. You were dead to the world when I got back, darlin’.”

“Well why didn’t you wake me up?” You pout softly, threading your fingers through his against your belly.

“Ain’t no reason to wake you up. ‘Sides, you’re a veritable Sleepin’ Beauty there.”

You cannot help but to smile, drawing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You settle it against your chest, fingers still intertwined.

“You know how much I like you crawling into bed with me,” you laugh softly; and you can feel the chuckle in his chest

“I do. But I think you like wakin’ up like this too.”

Your hand reaches backward to card your fingers through his hair as he kisses at your earlobe, drawing the hemline of your chemise up to bare your rear and hips to him. He groans quietly when he finds that you did not wear bloomers to sleep in.

Sliding his hands between your thighs, your neck arches back into him as you open your legs, letting him softly touch the parts of you only he gets to see.

“Arthur…” you sigh, bliss obvious with how breathy your voice has become.

Underneath that old quilt, his hand works blasphemous miracles, making you swear on the Lord’s name as his fingers dance across your most intimate skin. After moments that leave you whining, knuckles white from gripping the side of the cot, he withdraws, and you want to cry out loud from the loss of his hand.

Arthur tilts your head toward him and leans over you, pressing his lips against yours in a smothering kiss.

With his other hand, he deftly unbuttons his union suit and draws out his cock, pumping it several times under that quilt as his tongue plays with yours.

With a light push, he turns you fully back on your side as he grasps your hip, burying his face in your unbound hair as he presses the head of his cock through the rim of your cunt. Your hand flies to grasp the side of the cot again as you squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip. Taking your lover is always a stretch, the girth of him pushing into your body burns for that first moment.

But he is gentle. For a man so practiced in violence and force, when he splits you with his flesh, he coos sweet nothings in your ear, rubs at your hip, kisses up and down your neck. Praises you, his love, with all the sweetness of a man smitten and drowning in affection.

By the time he is fully sheathed, his hand leaves your hip to draw your hair back so that he can press his cheek against your temple, looming over you with his much bigger frame. Arthur rocks his hips once, experimentally, within the confines of his cot, and you let out a breath raggedly as the column of him withdraws and fills you again.

In the solitude and quiet of the morning, the chill creeping in from outside, under the blankets he gently thrusts his hips into yours, cocooning the warmth of your bodies together as you lay side by side in the cot.

“One of these days, “ he rumbles, whispering in your ear as he moves against you, “I’m gonna stay, I’m gonna fill you ‘nd god, you’re gonna be so perfect all swollen up with my child.”

You mewl, unconsciously clenching down on him, making him gasp raggedly as he slows down. Breathing out harshly through his nose, he grits out his response, “Ain’t gonna last if you do that.”

“Ar-Arthur- god, y’ cant just say that-”

With a barely concealed groan, he thrusts himself into you hard before retracting his hips in the nick of time, his spend splattering hot on your ass as he pants in your ear. You shudder, your cunt drenching as you come also, wishing desperately that he could have stayed where he was.

Your fingers remain tightly wound against each other as you come down, he pants into the back of your neck for several moments before slowly unwrapping his hand from yours and and leaning the other direction, extricating himself from you to get up from the cot and grabbing his black neckerchief from the small table against the side of the tent.

He returns and wipes his spend gently from your skin, pulling you to lay down on your back as he dips the cloth between your legs, your slick smeared between your thighs that he quietly cleans from you. Arthur smiles fondly down at you as he draws his hand away, tossing the neckerchief in a pile of dirty clothes next to his shaving stand.

With one knee on the cot, he leans over you to press his lips against yours for a quick kiss, but you pout and throw your arms around his neck, trying to pull him down back to the cot. The idea of you pulling him down was laughable, but you try nonetheless.

“Lay with me.”

Arthur frowns, “I should really get the day goin’…”

“Please.” You whine, tugging at the neckline of his union suit, and his frown melts away as he chuckles softly, moving to lay down next to you once again. You nearly squeal in delight, scooting in the cot to give him room. You turn to lay on your side, facing him, as he does the same. Throwing your leg over his hip, you once again thread your fingers through his hair as you pull his lips to yours once again.

As the morning light invades the tent, it finds the two of you there, wrapped up in each other, staving off the day for at least one more moment.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #twolafic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic

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luvfy0dor · 2 months

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“There Is No Other Love, It's Only Yours ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Maybe ooc, barely proofread

Description; how the bsd men say ‘i love you’ without actually saying it (sigma does actually say it but that's besides the point)

A/n; Next fic post will be a request! Sorry they're taking me so long : ( this is a new style of writing for me and it's really short, but I figured I'd give it a shot. It might be a little whack though because I'm real tired rn I took an hour long nap before writing Sigmas

Dazai says ‘i love you’ best through physical touch and small gestures of the sort, specifically touching your hands. As soon as you're within his reach, your hand is in his and his thumb is rubbing over your knuckles affectionately. His lips brush against your knuckles when he gives excuses to Kunikida on why he can't make it today with your sleepy form right next to him on the bed. He'll press kisses to each knuckle while he listens to the blonde tell him the amount of absences and early leaves he's had in the past month and quietly sigh. He doesn't care where he is either, he's shameless it's his affection and will happily grab you by the waist or hand infront of a crowd. He loves to show you off because you're the best thing to happen to him, but if you're shy he'll tone it down to keep you comfortable.

“Ah! There you are. I've been looking for you. Give me your hand so I don't lose track of you again...ah, you got me! I did just want to hold your hand, but what's the harm?”

Chuuya shows his love through acts of service- I know a lot of people probably would assume gift giving, which he does love to do, but he finds himself commiting acts of service more frequently. Every time he notices you seem tired after work, he'll do the chores that you had accidentally forgotten, even if he's tired. He plans dates for the two of you atleast monthly, always picking a restaurant or activity he heard you mention wanting to try. He does find himself spending money when he sees things that remind him of you, but he thinks spending time with you is even better. If he takes your car somewhere, it's always coming home with a refilled gas tank. If you need to lift something heavy, he offers to use his ability to help you. He'll do your laundry whenever he notices it piling up and bring you coffee, tea, or water in the morning when you're still lingering in bed.

“Mornin' sweetheart, I got you a drink. Be careful not to spill it, s'real dark in here and opening the blinds doesn't help any...we got a date tonight, by the way. You said the new restaurant sounded good so I figured we could go tonight if you're up for it.”

Fyodor spends quality time with you. He likes to keep you nearby when he reads or works, although he prefers when you're on the quieter side during those activities. Otherwise, he's happy to talk with you for however long the two of you are content with. Usually you'll have conversations over a game of chess, which he almost always wins while you're attention is divided between talking and playing, but he's a good sport about it. He'll give you pointers on how to do better in the next game. He'll play his cello for you, too. If he finds your hobbies interesting enough he'll take part in them. If you paint he'd be more than happy to join you, chatting with you while your brushes paint images of scenery and figures on the once blank canvas. He prefers what are considered more sophisticated hobbies, but he'd watch a chick flick with you or let you teach him how to play your favorite video game if it really made you happy.

“If you're as determined to win a game as you say you are, you should probably make an attempt to put more focus into the game. I do love hearing your voice, moya lyubov, but thinking about how you're going to move your pieces and talking are counterproductive. We can try it again, or we could do something else, whatever you'd like, Myshka.”

Nikolai shows you his love primarily through flirty words and loving touches. Whenever he walks next to you, his hand is on either your lower back, hip, or in your hand. When sitting with you, he'll fiddle with your fingers and play with them harmlessly, occasionally fighting off the urge to bend them back far enough to break them. In the same heartbeat, hell bring them to his lips and press kisses to every finger tip while telling you a flirty joke. He often lays his legs across your lap or lets you lay yours over his while you play with his hair. Sometimes he'll walk up behind you and whispers a pick up line in your ear with a large grin on his face. He likes seeing your reaction and watching you squirm in embarrassment in his grasp.

“You must be an artist, my dove, because you are so good at drawing me in! Hey- you can't go anywhere just because you thought my joke was cheesy! I can find some wine to go with it if you'd like, hehe.”

Sigma shows his love through the way he trusts you. Obviously with everything he's gone through trusting people became really difficult for him, but you came along and earned that trust when you proved that you were a permanent factor in his life and wouldn't betray him. He trusted you enough to let you into the Aerial Casino and stay with him regularly in his quarters. He let his walls down around you and opened up about his origin story. He would let you get physically close to him and touch him, coming to love the feeling of your lips against his, pressed in a sweet kiss. Though he still kept his independence and a desire to not depend solely on you in fear of betrayal, you could tell that he had come a long way from the man he once was after his experiences in the DOA.

“I felt so foolish after I fell for Fyodors tricks again, but dealing with the distrust and suspicion I held towards everyone else was just as hard as the realization of messing up again...thank you for listening to me, you've helped me so much. I don't think I could ever repay you enough...I love you.”

A/n; AHHHHHHHH I'm so tired but fuck it we ball I gotta write chisme for Spanish and it's going no where I lied to my teacher and told her it was almost done it is not almost done I have barely met any of the requirements for it but I won't do it if I don't post something so

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iravesh · 3 months

Text

— When they want to ask something but too shy.

He said goodbye to go to work and saw you busy in the kitchen. He wanted to go straight away but felt something was missing. So he stopped in front of the door and started talking.

Zayne : "i will go to work now."

You : "okay, keep up the good work and hope all goes well."

Zayne : "yeah, thank you. then, i'll go now?"

You : "oh sure, be careful and take care of yourself while work."

Zayne : "..."

You : "..."

Zayne : "hmm, okay."

You walking to the door and saw him still standing there not moving. You looked at him and stifled a laugh.

You : "what are you waiting for?"

Zayne : "nothing."

You hold the door when he is about to come out with his dull face. Then slowly stand on tiptoe and kiss his lips, you give Zayne a soft kiss and he is shocked. He smiled faintly before kiss your forehead.

You : "next time, remember that you don't need to chit-chat or ask me like that, okay? just do your thing as my husband."

Zayne : "i still don't have the courage, we haven't been married for long, so sorry if i'm a little awkward about doing it straight away. i will never make small talk again in the future when i want it."

You are going out to markets. After you finished getting ready, you saw Xavier looking at you from the bed. Then, you went into the room and sat on the edge of the bed to tell him.

You : "i'm going out for a while to the market to buy cooking ingredients. will you come along?"

Xavier : "no, i'm sleepy."

You : "alright then, is there something you want to buy?"

Xavier : "nothing, right now."

You : "okay, i'll go now."

When you stood up, his eyes couldn't lie that he was sad. Then in a low tone he said again.

Xavier : "can't we order online to eat today?"

You : "hmm? what did you just say?"

Xavier : "nah, nothing. it's cold, i will sleep again and use this blanket."

You chuckle when you saw his blushing face. Then pulled the blanket as it covered his whole body.

You : "of course, we can. why don't you just say it loudly? you're cold and want to cuddle, right?"

Xavier : "..."

He pulled you into the blanket and hugged you tightly. He also kissed your neck and closed his eyes with his ears and cheeks still red.

You cleaned the dusty bedroom window and let Rafayel paint nearby. until you finally looked at him, as he focused on watching you.

You : "what? you want to help me?"

Rafayel : "no, no. i'd rather get hung up on painting ideas than touch that dusty place."

You : "okay, then focus on your work."

He sigh. then he looked at the canvas again and painted carelessly. You saw that and approached him from behind.

You : "what's wrong?"

Rafayel : "ah, puh-lease. don't startle me like that."

You : "i didn't mean it like that, you just seemed unfocused since earlier. why?"

Rafayel : "i just need to shower because i feel sticky. and i think you also need too because you sweat, your work is done anyway right?"

You : "i see, i'll take a shower later. you can shower first if you want, i want to sit for a moment."

Rafayel : "but.."

You stopped when you heard that, then turned around as you were about to sit down and looked at him. He looked tired and stood up to go to the bathroom. You smirk.

You : "do you mind if i come in the shower with you?"

Rafayel : "NO! ah, i mean up to you."

You : "then come here and carry me."

He approached and carried you with a bridal style to the bathroom, while continuing to look at you and occasionally kissing your lips anxiously.

it's just all my delulu, hope you all like it and can deluluing with me lol 😭✋🏻.

#xavier #xavier love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #delulu #lovesigned #shy boy #xavier x you #xavier x reader #zayne x you #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #y/n

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jenscx · 4 months

Text

LET ME IN — yu jimin x f!reader

you return to your hometown after being overseas for years. there was no possible way for you to anticipate your old high school sweetheart waiting at the airport.

TAGS — angst, little fluff, exes to lovers, happy ending, high school sweetheart, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 5.1k

the sweater that you had picked out today, feels unfamiliar on your skin. it’s the one which reads, ‘seniors of 2018’. it’s the one you had never gone near, leaving it to rot in your closet. it’s the one that holds the most painful memories for you. how could a piece of clothing cause you so much pain?

frankly, you know why. it’s the one jimin had given to you as you left for the train to the airport. “something to remember me by,” she had stated after pulling it over the top of your head.

you had huffed, playfully asking, “how could i ever forget you?”

your closet had witnessed your stares— or rather glares at the sweater. not until an hour had passed, when you finally heaved a sigh and grabbed it off the hanger that was situated at the corner of the closet. it’s just because it’s comfortable, you had reasoned before. and it didn’t matter what you wore underneath the puffer jacket, it would end up covered.

of course, these were all excuses, trying to deny the very fact that it just reminded you of jimin. and you were very welcoming towards such reminders.

reminders of what?

you shake your head, picturing a blank canvas before the melodic laughter filled your ears. jimin’s laugh.

the screeching of your luggage’s wheels distract you. aeri’s standing at the door, a hand on your suitcase.

“hey girl,” she checks the watch on her wrist, “we gotta go. flight’s at 2.”

you nod, ignoring the fact that you had spent almost two whole hours thinking about the repercussions of returning back to… home? could you even call it that?

aeri seems to notice your inner turmoil, since in the taxi, she places a comforting hand over yours, sending you a small smile. while it didn’t really settle your nerves, you appreciated the effort nonetheless.

the journey to the boarding gate is like a fever dream. your airpods betraying you, randomly shuffling to a girls’ generation song. it was like a cry back to the past, when you and jimin would listen to girls’ generation songs together.

for jimin, you had complied.

you open your eyes, you can only see the back of someone’s head above the aeroplane’s seat. if you keep your eyes closed for too long, you might start to envision a blur of jimin’s perfect eyes, her nose, her lips that were always pursed in disappointment when she caught you and minjeong stealing her snacks…

the realisation that you can’t remember the face that once made you the happiest girl on the planet hits hard. it hits harder than the guilt and misery you felt when jimin, a week after you had left korea, sent a flurry of messages that went unresponded.

“i didn’t know you liked girls’ generation,” aeri comments. startled, you stare at your phone, the lock screen wallpaper being jimin’s back displaying girls’ generation’s holiday night baseball t-shirt. the girl had forced you to buy matching ones with her, you recall bitterly.

“i don’t,” you answer coolly, swiftly turning off your phone. aeri eyes you weirdly but eventually lets you off the hook and leans back into her seat.

the rest of the thirteen hours flight, you busy yourself with work— leftovers from the time before break, drafts of sketches, thesis statements and long-winded essays. while a plane was not the best environment to finish a full drawing, you could at least make some rough sketches. somehow, your pencil graphite gravitates from sturdy, concrete buildings to soft cheekbones, hooded eyes, pouty lips.

shit, you blink, taking in your subconscious sketch of a woman, familiar to your past.

almost instantly shutting your sketchbook shut, you ignore the implications of what your mind was telling you. the crew neck sweater itches at your neck. it’s almost like the words embroidered on the cotton burn into your heart, to always make you remember and recall the time before messy relationships, longing feelings and just enjoying the present time.

time. you didn’t have much of it anyway.

maybe this trip would allow you to make peace with the past. you wouldn’t flinch whenever your friends would talk about league of legends champion, ‘katarina’, or you wouldn’t immediately decline movie night with aeri in fear that one of the actresses would look eerily similar to jimin.

allowing your brain to wander past your comfort zone, you wonder what she's doing now. was she a flight stewardess? did she manage to finally get better at pubg? was her favourite colour still blue? did she still have that sparkle in her eyes when food was brought up?

the last thought makes you chuckle, reminiscing how excited jimin was whenever food was involved. when yizhuo would bring back mala snacks from china, jimin would be gone in a flash.

(so would yizhuo’s snacks, you can’t count the number of times you were forced to lie about who the perpetrator was.

maybe it was worth it when jimin would beam at you, flashing a bright smile that rivalled the shine of diamonds).

with bittersweet memories, you drift off. sleepless nights made up for, by just giving yourself permission to think about her.

you dream of crashing waves, two people on the shore, just sitting down and gazing at the scenery. the sunset’s everlasting in this timeline. like time doesn’t exist and all they did was stare at the deep ocean.

before you even get to see their faces, the announcement rings throughout the flight.

you sigh deeply, catching the attention of aeri.

“you okay? you slept so soundly, i thought you died,” the japanese girl asks worriedly. you laugh, it was the best sleep you ever got, and it was on an aeroplane.

strange how our consciousness works.

“i’m good,” this time you weren’t lying.

you stare at the glass doors, wondering if minjeong had told anyone else to come fetch you. it wasn’t a far fetched thought, maybe the girl had asked yizhuo to come as well. the chinese girl would kill minjeong if she didn’t tell her about your arrival back in korea after what? three, almost four years?

“hey, i asked my friend to pick us up and she might have brought someone else,” you warn aeri.

“oh that’s fun… why do you sound so scared?”

“because, the other girl is a little overbearing,” you scoff, “she might try to climb you, just a warning.”

aeri widens her eyes as you two drag your luggage to the gates.

she gapes, “no kidding? is she a koala or something?”

“something like that,” you shrug.

the doors open. it’s your first step (not really) into korea. the air is the same anywhere else, but the feeling isn’t.

it’s the feeling of uncertainty. the feeling of fear. aeri clasps your free hand tightly in hers, sensing your hesitance.

your gaze glides over the crowd of people waiting for their own family. aeri makes a noise of recognition and she pulls you to the side, you finally spot someone familiar.

“minjeong…!” you call out, voice going silent at the sight of a girl that is most definitely not minjeong.

it’s not yizhuo either, that’s for sure.

“did minjeong get plastic surgery or something?”

you want to run.

“because… that’s not— that’s not minjeong,” you whisper, “that’s yu jimin.”

aeri deadpans, “you say that like i know who the hell she is.”

you want to kill minjeong. and maybe jimin wants to kill aeri with how hard she’s glaring at her.

jimin only trots slowly towards you.

jimin’s eyes dart from aeri’s face back to yours, her hard, cold gaze trailing down to your sweater that has come uncovered by the puffer jacket. your eyes narrow when she raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking you, “why are you wearing that?”

you don’t answer her, because you don’t know either.

“i’m jimin, y/n’s—”

“friend,” you interrupt, quickly turning away to avoid the flash of hurt on jimin’s face.

the mentioned girl recovers quickly, putting on a fake smile, “classmate of y/n from high school.”

“i’m uchinaga aeri, y/n’s roommate, thank you for picking us up!” aeri grins widely, ignoring the deadly lasers pointing her way.

“where are you staying, if i may ask?” jimin’s sharp tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“with y/n—”

you cover aeri’s mouth, knowing how jimin gets, “it’s none of your business.”

your roommate makes a noise of indignation and licks a long strip across your palm. you groan, taking it off her mouth and wiping it on her jacket.

“that’s so gross,” you mutter in english.

“your english has gotten better,” jimin notes as the three of you walk to her car.

you don’t know what to say, so you stay silent.

“where do you stay, jimin-ssi?” aeri makes small talk to cover up the awkward silence. you thank her internally.

jimin stares at you through the mirror, “with y/n.”

you bite your lip, nervous at what jimin might say next. you had never told aeri about your complicated relationship with jimin and you didn’t plan to. only because of kim minjeong meddling in, now it seems like everything has to be uncovered again.

“she’s a bad roommate, right?” surprisingly, aeri ignores jimin’s statement and instead continues to complain about you.

you’re shocked, to say the least. you thought aeri would have started blabbing and asking probing questions about your past roommate situation. or maybe she noticed your sullen look.

“i thought four years would have been enough for her to change her bad habits,” jimin says.

you know for a fact she isn’t talking about the same thing as aeri. jimin was even worse than you as a roommate; eating your secret snack stash, never cleaning up the pile of laundry she had in her room and always invading your alone time in bed.

“many things have changed,” you mumble, “i’m not the same as before.”

the car goes silent, jimin probably analysing your words while aeri pouts, confused by the strange tension you had with your so-called friend.

“if you desire something enough, you’d want it to stay the same forever.”

you retort, “change is inevitable.”

aeri says quietly in the corner, “i know the guy who said that, his name is like john, or something.”

struggling to keep your laughter silent, you splutter in aghast at aeri’s sudden general knowledge.

“you’re so strange,” you comment.

aeri laughs, “i know, but you like me for that, right?”

(“—only had a brain the size of a walnut, that’s why the stegosaurus was one of the dumbest dinosaurs!” jimin reads out loud from your bed.

you stand at your vanity, finishing up your skincare, trying not to laugh at jimin’s absurd dinosaur facts, “you’re so weird.”

“you like that about me though?”)

you sense how intimate the conversation feels for the both of you, so you stop answering aeri and instead focus on jimin. her grip on the steering wheel has tightened significantly, eyes burning with something you can’t identify.

“you’re being annoying again, go to sleep or something, it’s a long drive from here to my house—” you halt in the middle of your sentence, finally questioning the very fact of… why?

why is yu jimin here? even if minjeong asked her to, why? the jimin you knew would never do this. the jimin you knew would never give up her sleeping time just to fetch an old friend, who she maybe had something going on with, and a stranger? yizhuo had friends from china who were visiting, and even then, jimin refused to fetch them from the airport. she was the only one in your friend group with a licence so it only made sense to ask her.

you try to bury yourself in the sweater even more. it was fine for now. seeing jimin in the flesh. but maybe you were so jet lagged that you hadn’t made sense of the situation yet.

the only sensible thing to do for now, was to let yourself escape into dreamland and wait for the morning after.

you can only anticipate it would be full of awkward silence, tension-filled gazes, hesitant actions.

it’s difficult to fall asleep. you decide to blame your insomnia on the nap you had during the flight. even when you know it’s because of the deeply asleep body, separated by a thin wall.

you’re sitting upright, staring at the unveiled moon. it’s stunning, not like the sun which literally glares. the moon is calming, easing you into the next day, all while making you feel… loneliness.

how could you feel lonely even with so many people around you?

(“do you think soulmates exist?” you had asked, curious of jimin’s take on such tales.

the girl seems taken aback, but she ultimately replies, “if they do, i think you’re mine.”)

you clench the duvet in your fists tightly, mind grasping at any other thought than of yu jimin. it’s unfortunate that you seem to enjoy the pain and torture past memories bring with how often your brain wanders through them.

maybe it’s time to come clean with yourself.

you were back in your hometown. you were staying in the same apartment as you did before you left. one that you shared with yu jimin; one that you called home.

eyes starting to become watery, you wipe them off and take a seat at your desk. if you were going to stay awake the rest of the night, might as well get work done. pulling out your sketchbook, the first page to be opened is the drawing of jimin from the flight. the realisation slaps you.

how long would it take someone to get over the love of their life?

for you, maybe eternity.

the door creaks open slightly. your head turns sharply, hand instinctively covering the drawing.

“y/n…?”

“jimin,” you inhale, “why are you still awake?”

she doesn’t bother to answer you and instead chooses to sit on your bed. once you notice the pyjamas she’s wearing, you feel daggers stab into your heart. it’s one of your many matching pyjamas with her. you hadn’t touched any of them since you left korea.

“are you dating aeri?” she asks.

you know what she’s secretly trying to ask.

“no, she’s just a friend.”

“that’s what they always say,” jimin scoffs. her tone doesn’t sit right with you.

with a sudden urge to defend your friendship with aeri, you shoot back, “i recall you saying that about lee jeno too.”

your words clearly strike a chord in jimin, her eyes widen, hurtful remarks at the tip of her tongue. yet, she merely looks away. you hate how beautiful she looks in the moonlight.

“y’know, technically we’re still dating.”

“what are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.

jimin rolls her eyes, “we never explicitly broke up, you only ghosted me. technically we’re still together.”

“stop spouting nonsense.”

the girl only pouts in annoyance. you hate how your heartstrings tug at her cute expression. right now, yu jimin had to be anything but cute.

“and i didn’t ghost you, i was busy.” the lie slips out easily, revealing how used you are to saying it. jimin, of course, doesn’t believe you. she had never.

jimin frowns.

“you always say that too.”

she stands up, walking bit by bit closer to you. your hand grips the sketchbook protectively.

placing a hand onto the back of your chair, jimin smirks, leaning in. you hate how attractive she looks.

her now blonde locks form a curtain around your faces, preventing any outsider to peek in and see what you were doing.

“i think you’re a bad friend,” jimin claims.

“what?”

you can’t take your eyes off her fluttering eyelashes, her red nose, probably from the cold, and her eyes filled with determination.

“you lied to aeri,” she whispers, “since when were we ever just friends?”

a lump forms in your throat. your heart constricts. you can barely even say a word. you’re speechless.

“we’re barely even friends, roommates, probably,” you splutter out.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” jimin eyes you with an amused expression, lips twitching with the threat of a big, wide smile. you realise your words bid you no help, only further supplying as a challenge for jimin— for you to admit that you were more than friends. no words needed to be exchanged about that fact, but you being you, after fulfilling years of ghosting, would never admit that you harboured any sort of feelings for jimin after being the main reason why your relationship fell apart.

you would argue that your absence was just a contributing factor. the real trigger came in the form of lee jeno, a man that you could say with your whole heart and soul, you hated with every bone in your body.

after you had left, with a promise to stay in contact with jimin, you realised how hard it was to maintain your relationship status. and when jimin posted countless instagram stories of jeno, you realised again that maybe it was best to break it off.

never in the duration of your ‘ghosting stage’ had you ever told jimin the real reason for your sudden coldness. madly jealous and insecure, you decided to disappear. disappear just from jimin though.

“i’ve always been curious,” jimin pulls back from your intense gaze, “why you started being so distant, cold and indifferent. tell me, will you?”

“that’s just my personality.” a direct white lie, you decide to tell.

“i was heartbroken,” she ignores you and continues her monolouge, “my girlfriend decides to ghost me, and just me. made me think i did something wrong.”

you lick your lips, suddenly feeling your throat constrict up. no longer was this just banter, the conversation was steering into uncharted territory.

“it wasn’t just you,” you desperately argue, trying to direct the conversation away, “moving to another country isn’t easy.”

“you’re pretending our whole relationship didn’t exist. maybe in your eyes it meant nothing, but for me, it was everything. don’t you know every single day i have nightmares? the craziest thing is that all the demons in my nightmares have your smile,” jimin whispers fiercely, “and yet, i stay faithful to those nightmares, even if i wake up crying for someone who didn’t even bother answering my calls. you may have only been in the states, but it felt like you were on another planet. i was the last person to know you were coming back, even though you promised me; promised that if you were to return, i would be the first person to—”

you can’t control yourself. hearing her words makes your blood boil. the pumping of your heart only accelerates further as you lift up your hand, delivering a heavy slap across her face. how dare she? how dare she act as if everything was your fault? how could she accuse your devotion and adoration for her?

“don’t act like you’re the fucking victim, karina,” you hiss, your words even more painful than the stinging red on jimin’s cheek, “the first morning after, i sent you so many texts, barely even seen. then i see your story. were you acting when you said you were sad about me leaving? or were you happy to finally say that you don’t have a girlfriend anymore?”

jimin cradles her cheek in her hand, eyes narrowing when you finally confess the real reason. you can tell she doesn’t remember anything. her not even knowing what she did that made you feel unneeded only drives the blade deeper into your heart.

“drinking at a club with lee jeno,” you say his name with venom, voice gradually getting louder and louder. remembering that aeri’s only a few walls away, you try to control your emotions. “could you not understand how i felt— you said nothing would come between us and the first week away from home, constantly ignoring me for some guy.”

(“call me when your plane lands,” jimin said, playing with the hem of her sweater on you.

“isn’t it gonna be midnight in korea when i land?”

the girl merely chuckles, “i’ll be up all night just to hear your voice.”)

the realisation strikes you like a lightning bolt.

“this was a mistake.”

“what?”

“this… me coming back. i should have just stayed in the states but fuck, i let aeri convince me,” you run your fingers through your tousled hair, stressed. jimin was going to cause you to have white hair.

the redness on jimin’s cheek is still there. you feel slightly guilty for ruining her clear complexion.

“that was just how i coped with you leaving,” jimin explains.

you purse your lips, placing your open palms on jimin’s chest. maybe she thinks you’re about to cave in since she sighs in relief. however, instead of pulling her in, you push her until her back is touching your door.

“i don’t need an explanation, or an apology,” you say firmly, “i need time alone away from you.”

“you’ve had 4 years to yourself,” jimin states bitterly.

“i’m sorry for slapping you, but please, either show me your actions matching your words, or just get out of my life for good.”

jimin sighs again, this one full of exasperation.

“go,” you mutter under your breath.

the knife drives deep into your already ruined heart as you push her away. the girl scoffs, grasping your open palms into her hands, intertwining your fingers.

“if you insist on pushing me away, i’ll get rid of any possibility of us being together again. just let me into your heart again,” she throws your hands away and slams the door. the loud bang echoes in your ears, but not as loudly as her words. it only takes a few seconds for you to collapse onto the floor, sobs wrecking your whole body.

“morning,” aeri yawns, “i heard a loud bang last night, was that you or is your apartment haunted?”

you drizzle maple syrup onto your stacked pancakes, sending a bittersweet smile to your friend. your night was spent tossing and turning, both guilt and anger consuming you. when the clock ticked at four in the morning, you finally let yourself think about how jimin made you feel. even if she went to drink right after you left, you should have communicated with her instead of ghosting her. you knew for a fact that she was heartbroken based on the numerous texts your friends had sent you.

fuck, you groan into your pillow. getting up from your bed, your eyes roam the room, eventually landing on the sketchbook at your desk. you never finished that drawing on the plane. after considering (or more likely procrastination), you sit down, pouring your hours and feelings into your drawings. countless of them filled up the sketchbook’s pages. the drawings’ subjects all looked eerily similar to jimin. her pointed nose, soft gaze were all captured in the pages. you finally come to terms with it. you were still in love with her. after all, she was your only muse. thinking about her words from before, you knew that she meant them. spending years waiting for someone who was basically a ghost couldn’t have been easy.

you were going to do something about it.

barely getting any sleep last night, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to prepare breakfast. aeri had woken up an hour after, stomach growling and eyes gleaming at the pancakes.

“by the way,” she says, mouth full of pancake, “i’m meeting up with a friend today and she’s bringing someone too. wanna go with me on a double date?”

fate must be messing with you since right as aeri says the words ‘double date’, yu jimin walks in. her hair tousled, puffed cheeks and eyes narrowing. you stiffen, focusing on picking at your pancakes instead. unbeknownst to you, once jimin spots the lone plate of breakfast on the counter, her gaze softens.

“do you know who your friend’s bringing…?” you whisper softly, trying not to catch the attention of jimin.

aeri, although you love her, says in the loudest voice possible, “somi will be your date! i think she’s your type.”

the scraping of the metal fork makes you squeeze your eyes shut, mentally preparing for jimin’s outburst.

“so-mi,” jimin clicks her tongue.

aeri nods, stuffing her face with more food.

she turns to you, “and you’re going on a date with her?”

“double date with me,” aeri clarifies, “don’t worry jimin-ssi, i’ll be there to protect y/n! y’know in college i always had to pick y/n up from her bad dates. her taste in guys suck.”

“seems like her taste in girls has been downgraded,” jimin comments, smirking. you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. aeri guffaws, taking out her phone. “i’ll show you somi’s instagram account and you can decide for yourself, y/n,” she says.

you nod, deciding not to say anything in case jimin flares up. somi’s very pretty, anyone would agree. she had her own attractive style and seemed really confident. you liked that. aeri wasn’t wrong to say that somi was your type. it was just unfortunate that your heart was in the hands of another girl.

while scrolling on aeri’s phone, her alarm rings, reading, ‘brunch with yunny.’

“ah! yunjin wanted to meet earlier, just the two of us,” aeri smiles, “text me later if you wanna join!” she stands up from the table. you’re astonished by how fast she managed to finish those pancakes, her stack was evidently taller than yours. jimin glances at you, amazed as well.

“did she inhale those…?”

“i’ve got no fucking clue,” you mumble, digging into your own. jimin only chuckles and you hate how it makes your heart clench up in affection.

the silence is deafening. without aeri, the air thickens with tension between you and jimin, filled with nostalgia and regret. it feels just like last time— you and jimin eating breakfast together at that very same table, giggling about whatever trouble your friends got into the previous day.

“hey, about yesterday—”

“it’s fine,” you interrupt, “is your cheek okay?”

jimin swallows hard, “yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“don’t lie, come here,” you instruct, “i’ve known you for so long, you can’t lie to me.”

she just laughs, showing you the slightly bruised side of her face. you feel guilt wreck you. no matter how angry you were, you shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.

“did you ice it?”

jimin shakes her head. you sigh, getting up and taking an ice pack out of the freezer. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, moving around the kitchen like it was 2018 and jimin was the love of your life (she still is). wrapping the ice pack in a towel, you inch closer to jimin, holding it to her cheek. she winces slightly and you resist the urge to hold her hand in comfort.

“y/n…”

“hm?”

the girl seems so small now— her posture deflated, eyes barely meeting yours, biting her lip nervously. you have a feeling you know what she’s about to ask.

“are you going on that date with soyoung?” you laugh loudly, catching jimin off guard.

“jimin, her name’s somi.”

pouting, jimin turns away from you, making your hand falter. “hey, i need to ice your face.”

“i won’t let you unless you answer my question.” she’s so childish it’s adorable. the tension has gone, now filled with uncertainty instead.

“i don’t have anyone to spend the afternoon with. minjeong and yizhuo are busy today,” you explain.

“you have me,” she mutters.

ignoring her, you answer, “aeri seemed really excited for us to meet.”

“you spent all your time in the states with her, you should spend time with your friends here,” jimin retorts.

her hesitance to even admit she wants to spend time with you makes you want to tease her.

“oh? you’re right,” jimin perks up like a puppy. cute, you think. “i should text yujin if she wants to go out, remember her? she was our student council president.”

rolling her eyes, jimin swats at your hand nursing her bruise. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, bantering with jimin like she was the only girl you’ve ever loved (she was).

it’s too easy. between the choice of going out with aeri to meet someone new and staying in with jimin. it’s such an easy choice to make.

you bring the ice pack away from her face, choosing to caress her cheek lovingly instead. she sighs, content, leaning into your touch.

“jimin,” you gulp, “i’m sorry for these past few years.”

her eyes gaze up at you, “it’s okay. i’ve come to terms with it. i honestly wasn’t expecting you to come back.”

“i wasn’t planning to either, but aeri wanted to.”

“good thing she convinced you, huh?” jimin smiles, “at least i know i was the reason for our break up.”

“it’s only a relationship if there are two people,” you say, “it was my fault too.”

her eyes momentarily flicker to your lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“i know these years haven’t been easy on both of us, but if you’re willing to, i think i’m okay with giving us a second chance,” you confess, “even if you hurt me again, i still want you. i just want you. you’ve always been the only one in here.” you point at your heart.

jimin’s eyes shoot straight up, finally breaking into a wide smile, “seriously? even after what i said last night? i’m not complaining but like… you were pretty angry. i just wanted to know why you ghosted me and i agree, i deserved it. but why the sudden change?”

“i mean,” you shrug, “it was what you said that made me think about this. i didn’t want you to stop loving me, because i’ve never stopped loving you.”

“you love me?”

“i love you.”

“this is so crazy, you went from slapping me to…” she trails off, grasping your chin and bringing you into a kiss. her lips were so, so, soft. you wondered why you even let her go. once your lips met, you felt her sigh before smiling into your mouth. catching your breath, you run your fingers through her blonde hair.

“still going on that date with suki?”

“jimin, you know her name’s somi.”

“whatever, i love you too.”

#aespa #aespa x reader #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #jimin x reader

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stairain · 4 months

Text

Brushstrokes.

You weren’t entirely sure what being Spencer’s muse meant, but it certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.

Warnings: Dom Spencer, Sub Reader, vaginal penetration, foreign object penetration.

WC: 1.5K

You’re not exactly sure why you agreed to this, but you were happy to be a part of one of Spencer’s new hobbies nonetheless.

Your boyfriend had recently taken up painting, and he decided his latest subject and newest project was going to be a portrait of you.

So there you were, sprawled out on your living room couch in nothing but a barely visible slip dress.

He was deep in concentration as his deep eyes shifted back and forth from your body to the canvas.

“Are muses allowed to talk?”

You ask, knowing he had asked you not to move, but being a human mannequin was harder than it looked.

Spencer glances up at you briefly with a small smile as he paints the curve of your jaw, seemingly in a trance as he creates the image.

“Not really.”

He was nearly finished anyways, so it wasn’t like you were messing anything up, but he’d never pass up the opportunity to tease you.

“But I think I can make an exception for my muse.”

His gaze slowly lowers from your face as he paints, his eyes lingering on the curve of your waist for a long moment as you readjust your body.

“For someone who's just laying there, you keep distracting me, in a dress that hardly covers a thing..”

At the teasing tone in his voice, your lips part in a baffled scoff.

“If I remember correctly, you’re the one who told me to wear this and you’re the one who told me to get in this position.”

His grin only broadens as he sets his brush down and lays it on the nearby table, slowly working over to you and getting right up next to you on his knees.

Spencer reaches out a paint stained hand to touch your leg, but you jolt away before he can.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be painting.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you jokingly scold him.

“I’m almost done, I just need to make sure I’ve got the right angles to properly capture my muse.”

He says, continuing his advancements as he runs the tips of his rough fingers along your soft thighs. The feeling has you shivering, as it never did take much for him to turn you on.

But it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he’s not being entirely honest with his intentions, and you watch through lust lidded eyes as he reaches towards his canvas and work station.

His nimble fingers quickly grasp a clean plastic paintbrush, one with a thicker base that would be used for much larger, and broader strokes.

With the snap of his fingers, your focus turns back to him immediately, and he grasps your chin in his fingers.

“Now be a good muse, would you?”

Wordlessly you nod, looking his face up and down for any sign of what that might entail.

As he lets go of your face and leans back, the hand holding the brush nudges at your knees. They were laid on top of each other as you were still in your previous position.

But that wouldn’t do any longer. As soon as he bumps his knuckles into your legs, you’re spreading them as wide as the couch allows you to.

He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly drags the tip of the paintbrush from the tops of your knees down to the folds of your uncovered sex. Your body jumps at the feeling, but you still lay there pliant for him.

The dark plastic rod swirls against your slick wetness, and despite using the opposite end, he could’ve been fooled if this was its intended use.

He breaks your shared gaze to drag the brush downward, closer and closer.

Your lips quiver as he inches towards your hole, and you barely manage to stutter out your words.

“Y-You’re supposed to be painting..”

Spencer’s eyes snap up to yours immediately and it makes your throat run dry. The corners of his soft pink lips curl upwards, and he looks back down to where your cunt invites him in.

“And you are supposed to be quiet.”

He says as he sinks the end of the paintbrush into your pussy. With the intrusion, it leaks onto the soft couch beneath you.

You throw your head back against the arm and fight the urge to entirely swallow the brush whole.

The object, although not nearly as thick or long as your counterpart, sinks deeper into your walls, the cold plastic quickly burning hot with the tight heat that surrounds it.

Spencer’s got his fingers gripping where metal meets bristle, and watches in a crude fascination as he begins to fuck you with the end of a paintbrush.

As he pushes it deeper, you lift your head and look up at him, but he’s nowhere close to meeting your gaze.

Instead, his hazel eyes are trained on how every time he withdraws the brush from your soaked pussy, a thick layer of your arousal coated the dark plastic.

He licked his lips and you could hear just how heavily he was breathing as he pushed it back into your tight slit.

It sinks all the way into you, without any trace of resistance. He’s careful not to be too rough with it, and it becomes clear he’s not going slow to torture you, but instead to admire you.

The way your soft walls flutter around the paintbrush as if it were second nature, and the way you’re practically leaking a puddle underneath you. It’s all too much for him to be spoiled with at once.

Under his breath, he curses out gentle profanities. And his unoccupied hand slowly reaches down towards the front of his trousers.

There’s wet paint on his palm and it smears against light fabric as he cusps the heavy bulge filled in his pants. He gives it a hearty squeeze and lets out a strained sigh of relief.

Your eyes dart down to his dirty hands palming his aching cock. And your soft lips twitch into a nervous smile.

“You’re getting distracted..”

Voice quivering and legs shaking.

Spencer doesn’t even have to look up at you to know the smug smirk adorned on your face. He simply nods once.

You notice the shining gloss in his eyes, a shine that holds fascination and adoration.

“Yeah.. You don’t mind, do you?”

You shake your head immediately, as if either of you possessed the immense power it would take to tear him away from you.

He nods back and gives himself one last squeeze before he removes his hand from himself and places it on you instead.

His thumb finds solace against your inner thigh, reaching out to gently spread your glistening pussy.

Like a true artist, he studied his subject in the most effective way possible.

Spencer thrusts the brush in and out of you, stroking it as deep as you’ll take it. The hard tip stamps into your spot repeatedly and your entire body jolts with the intensity.

“S-Spence..”

You moan out, feeling downright filthy and pathetic that you’re about to cum because of a paintbrush.

The tops of his fingers turn white with how tightly he’s holding the brush, and he’s biting the thin skin right off his lip.

His thumb moves to rub gentle circles at your clit, the pressure on your sensitive button being what sends you right off the edge.

As he shoves the tip right against that gummy spot that has you seeing stars, you’re leaking a sticky sweet substance around the rod.

Your jaw goes slack in a silent whimper, and it’s not a moment too soon before he’s pulling the paintbrush out of you entirely and running his pink tongue along the soaked plastic.

With pleasure drunk eyes, you watch as he swirls the muscle around until every last taste bud is coated with an essence that’s simply you.

The sight causes a spark in your stomach, feeling downright worshipped with the way he so desperately licked up your release.

Once he’s sure he’s cleaned it thoroughly, he flips the brush around. It’s a sudden change in sensations when the bristles of the brush tap against your sensitive folds.

An accident, you think.

But just when you thought he’s had his fun, he drags the brush against your cunt, collecting the trails of slick that coated your plush skin.

The substance soaks into the toe of the brush, cascading down each individual bristle like the highest quality of paint.

And when he’s certain he’s collected enough, he brings the defiled brush to canvas and runs it along the surface, covering each square inch of his painted muse.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as he finishes the final touch of his painting. He attempts to capture the glow and shine of your person the best he could.

It’s a disgusting and endearing act of artistry, using the essence of his beloved as a smooth varnish to his finished masterpiece that was entirely you.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #dom spencer reid #dom spencer reid x reader #dom!spencer #dom spencer x reader #dom spencer #dom spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid x reader smut

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whispereons · 5 months

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 21

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 20, Part 22

Warning! This series is SAGAU and Imposter AU so expect gore. Although this chapter focus more on mental distress rather then physical.

There's a soft light that shines in front of you, lulling you to open your eyes. Pure white greets you as you slowly come to your senses.

There's no feeling in your body, but it doesn't worry you. The boundless white space you exist in is comforting. The sky whirls around you as new colors burst into being.

The once blank canvas is now painted a dark sky on your left with stars sparkling like jewels. On your right is the morning sky, bright blue with clouds adorning it delicately.

It's silent but peaceful. Your relaxed conscious is stirred from its slumber by a voice echoing around you.

“Why have you returned?”

It’s commanding, yet graceful. A cold compassion or a warm hostility?

“The deal has been finalized, and your return was never meant to be. No, that's incorrect.” A pensive hum is heard before the voice continues.

“You were meant to return at some point, but… not now, not yet. Teyvat seems to have sped up the process. While that doesn’t break the deal, I certainly won’t tolerate it amicably.”

A darker tone is used at the end of their words, before the gorgeous sky is overcome by dark red blocks. The serenity you feel is replaced by panic. You’re helpless to stop it from taking over everything.

Your vision begins to swarm with the blood-colored familiar blocks. As crimson takes over, the voice finishes their words.

“I won’t let you back so easily.” The last bits of your vision is covered and your lungs wheeze from the pain of the panic-

“Gasp-”

You sit up in the bed as sweat dots your skin, your lungs burn, and your fingers tremble from the grip you have on the covers. Eyes darting around the small room you’re in, your brain is unable to process everything as it spins.

The dream lingers in your mind. The red blocks poke at the edge of your eyes, the voice continues to echo through your mind. Leaning back, you rest your head on the headboard, the cool wood is a relief on your sweaty skin.

Releasing your bruising grip on the blankets, you rest your palms on your chest. You do your best to pay no mind to how your hands shake. Closing your eyes, a breath is inhaled and kept in.

One… That painting like sky, where else could you see something similar?

Two… The voice that spoke about Teyvat and you so casually, as if knowing everything.

Three… A status similar to an Archon, or mage? No, maybe even higher.

Four… Those red blocks have only been seen once before.

Five… You know who it is now.

The breath is exhaled, and your eyes flutter open at your revelation. Not like she was meaning to hide it. In fact, you could be certain that she wanted you to know that she was Celestia.

Sunlight begins to stream past the edges of the curtain, the wooden floor is cold against your bare feet as you get off the bed. Yanking the curtains and opening the window, you’re greeted with the sun barely peeking out and dew still present on the greenery.

The thought of how early you’ve been forced awake already sours your mood further.

It’s not anytime near 9 am, you would be lucky if it was half past 7 am. Sighing, you flop back onto the bed and reach for that connection between you and Teyvat.

‘Did you see that dream?’ You ask as you stare out the window from your spot. Silence envelops the room as you wait patiently. The soft beating of wings comes from the window, a Geo Crystalfly glides into the room before resting on the bedding next to you.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. What deal did Celestia make that involves me? What part did you play in speeding up my migration to this world?’ Staring firmly at the Crystalfly you remain in your spot.

The amber wings pause and the rocky outline stick together, keeping the wings closed. The crystal exterior body offers no answer to your expectant eyes.

‘Why won’t you respond now? You’re not Zhongli who is obligated to abide by a contract. Am I not your god?’ A bubble of frustration rises at the continued silence. The Crystalfly lowers itself further against the sheets, as if bowing to you.

But you didn’t want a useless bow. You wanted answers.

‘This situation fundamentally involves me. You, or Celestia, or whoever else is in this mess brought me here. And now I’m stuck acting out this stupid Oracle role and I can’t even get a single answer as to why?’

More Geo Crystalflies enter the room, all of them perch on the bed and mimic the bowing gesture. As if that useless, passive action could subdue your ire.

‘I’ve spent every day in this damn world fighting for my life! I just barely recovered from the brink of death! And yet when I ask about this strange situation and suspicious behavior, I get no response? NOT EVEN AN INDIRECT ONE?!’

Maybe it was all the stress you’ve been under, or the pain that still lingers in your body. Some would even say it was all the emotional hurt you’ve felt at having all the characters you treasured dearly treat you like this. But you couldn’t stop yourself from raising your hand in anger, rapidly coming down on the quivering Crystalflies that just refused to move-

Clink!

Your hand is abruptly stopped by the sound of metal hitting the table. You tore your eyes away from the Crystalflies to land on a weasel sitting on the table, a single mora lays at it’s feet.

Recognizing it vaguely as the weasel thief or mora weasels that treasure hoarders train, you stare at it unimpressed. It comes closer to you as the Crystalflies gently flap away to form a path. Beady eyes stare up at you pleadingly as the backpack on it jingles with all the mora inside.

Fingers unbuckling the straps, you remove the backpack and peer into the bag. The brown bag must only hold about 500 Mora, but mora is still mora, and you empty it into your bag. Once finished, you turn back to the Crystalflies ready to intimidate and interrogate more. You only refrain when the scurrying of multiple feet catches your attention.

What has to be at least 10 weasel thieves climbing through the open window, all carrying bags stuffed to the brim. Some hold 750 Mora, while others hold 1,000. Each time you unclip the bag and pour the mora into your bag. And each time you turn towards the Crystalflies, more weasels come through.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” You groan aloud as you ignore the assortment of weasels in the room, choosing to instead sit on the bed. The Crystalflies return to the bowing position as you gaze down at them with an unreadable expression.

Carefully, you scoop up the first Crystalfly that arrived into your hands, guilt of what you had almost done wraps around your heart like a vice.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to hit you. Although this whole gatekeeping vital information is annoying, you’ve been nothing but helpful to me. Besides, you may be keeping quiet due to a threat of some sort that the divulging of information could pose.’

You could hear the sounds of the weasels returning with more and more gifts. No doubt a way for Teyvat to show its gratitude to your ‘mercy’. With pursed lips, you ignore the actions and speak to Teyvat gently.

‘I’m afraid, Teyvat. Afraid that Celestia will take drastic measures to keep me from ‘returning’ or whatever. I’m 99% that Celestia is the one who disabled my teleporting feature and why I was only able to telepathically teleport those few times. For all I know, it could be a permanent disability. I don’t want to be limited more than I already am. If it goes too far, then I may even lose those things that proved me as an Oracle. And if that happens…’

Trailing off, you close your eyes and let out a bitter sigh. Setting the Geo Crystalfly back down, its amber wings fluttering in response, you turn to the weasels. Bags of mora, jewelry, wild fruit and small gemstones are beginning to fill up the table.

Opening the flap of your bag, you point at it and then at the table. “I want you guys to put all of that into my bag. If you have bags for me to open for you, bring them to me.”

A resounding trill is heard from them before the horde of Crystalflies flew out of the window. Deciding to leave the window open, you grab the letters and gifts from your previous visitors and bring them onto the bed.

The pitter-patter of the weasels feet and occasional flap of the Geo Crystalflies wing is heard in the background as you prepare for the day. Exiting the room and crossing the silent halls, you get to what has to be the bathroom and finish your morning routine.

The shower you take was the perfect opportunity to examine how your body is after all the healing. The bandages are removed and disposed of as you look into the foggy mirror.

Small scars in the shape of slits are seen on your body, Yelan’s arrows were no joke. The ice from Shenhe’s attacks left lighter toned patches on your calves too. Minor bruises and cuts were still healing up, but the small sting from the water didn’t bother you. If anything, it was the jagged and uneven scars along your spine that brought your mood down.

You were lucky that your broken spine didn’t cut into your spinal cord and paralyze you…

Changing into clean clothes and wrapping some new bandages, you do it all with a sense of apathy. Wouldn’t the thought of nearly being paralyzed have more of an effect? Yet when you thought of it, you could only imagine a sense of relief…

Looking back at the now clear mirror, you reach up for your mask. The battered mask is slipped off and placed on the counter. Familiar eyes stare back, and a grimace plays on your lips.

A purple bruise makes itself known on your temple, and poorly cared for skin muddles your features. The bridge of your nose, the eyes that crinkle at your attempt of a smile, even the way your full face comes together is so-

Foreign.

It’s not yours, not anymore.

It’s the Creators. The God that everyone worships as the one and only bearer of gold blood and highest form of authority.

Y/N does not have a face.

You have a title and a mask to be known by. A manner of speaking that leaves all to be swindled and led by without a true clue as to what goes on.

Licking your cracked lips, you adorn the mask once more and return to the room. Both the weasels and Crystalflies have already left, leaving it bare of activity. Closing the bag absentmindedly, you grab the medication bottles left on your bedside table.

Following the instructions Baizhu told you last night, you drink the medication as prescribed and gag at the taste. Setting all the medication aside, you sit down on the bed again and stare at the pile on the bed.

The letters and gifts from everyone that tried to visit are quickly sorted into two piles. You dig into the designated gift pile first.

A small box is opened to reveal a pair of armored fingerless gloves. It’s not super hard to guess your size, but they fit perfectly. The second and cuter box is opened with a delicious scent imprinting its first impression.

No one else could make food that smells this good except for Xiangling. Taking advantage of the early hours AKA no Baizhu, you wolf down the meal without properly admiring it. The spicy dish won’t do your still sensitive stomach any favors, but at least you enjoyed it.

A folded up paper is the next gift. Unraveling it shows a crude drawing of a brown haired girl with a pink flower, a tall man with glasses, a boy with a color palette you barely remember and a masked figure that had to be you.

Yiran, the little girl that you saved, had to be the one who drew this. That’s who must have spread the word and why Baizhu asked you to be lenient. Only her father, Kuan, could afford to bring her here.

The uneven letters spelling ‘My Heroes!’ at the bottom of the drawing made you smile a little. It was good that she was not only healed enough, but also happy enough to draw this for you.

The boy next to her in the drawing brought a sadder feeling. You didn’t remember him, but you did remember his mother. Her gaunt face and pale complexion came to mind as you pocketed the drawing. You weren’t sure if you could handle facing her.

The next gift evoked a stronger sense of despair as a patchy pouch was opened to show various knick-knacks. Pretty rocks, a tin with a string, shiny coins and worn out dice. You were familiar with the nature of these objects.

Most would see it as trash, but you knew it to be toys that were just as much, if not more fun, than the toys found in shops. Bored kids with nothing to do and nothing to use will find ways to entertain themselves, and being impoverished only fuels their creativity.

Trying to push away those nostalgic melancholic feelings, you open the last gift. A simple string necklace with a dark blue stone hanging from it laid in the box. The icy blue engraved symbol on it reminded you of Chongyun.

After disposing the trash, you put the drawing and the pouch into your bag. You reached for the letters next and opened the first one that you touched.

It was from Kuan, not unexpected, but you were interested in seeing what he had to say. What part he played in your identity getting spread around.

Most of it was profuse thanks for your completion of the commission and that the Adventurers Guild had the payment. Then it was how once Yiran had woken up, she had sneaked into the room when Baizhu was working and saw you.

Apparently she hadn’t been able to heal properly and was stuck on bed rest due to her grief. The kidnapping, death of her friend and finding out that you were going to be punished by the Adepti from the other kids created a mental block preventing her from healing.

But after seeing you and that you were still alive, her pain was eased enough that she was able to finally recover. You felt bad that she was sick all this time while you were being chased down, but she’s better now. And that’s all that mattered.

The next letter was actually from Kazuha. It detailed the sights that he had seen during his exploration of the Lisha area. It quickly turned into how panicked he felt when the wind pushed him to return to Liyue Harbor. The agonizing pain he felt over the rumors of a masked person being rushed into Bubu’s Pharmacy.

As no visitors were allowed, he went to Beidou and relayed the news. She had already finished her business and was preparing to leave. So he left you this letter and the armored gloves from Beidou.

Folding up the letter with the red and orange patterned leaf, you put it back into your bag. A knock on the door caught your attention before it opened slightly to show Qiqi.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She stands at the door frame until you nod, allowing her inside. She ambles inside with a cart of food and medicine. “Please take your medicine with the tea and eat the breakfast.”

She leaves just as quick as she came. As you weren’t starving after Xianglings meal, you took your time with breakfast. The medicine even with the tea tasted pretty bad.

Grabbing the next letter, a faint scent of food lingers on it, letting you know who sent it. Xiangling’s letter was small enough to be confused for a note, but it still easily conveyed her wreck of emotions. It ended with her mourning the fact that she couldn’t visit after dropping off the letter due to a rematch with a Monstadter that she scheduled long in advance.

A letter with a fancy wax seal was next. Opening it, you found the most horrendous handwriting you’ve ever seen. No matter how many times you rubbed your fingers on it, hoping that Tevyat could translate the mess of a letter, it just wouldn’t get any better.

The most you could make out was that Xingqui and Chongyun tried to visit but were denied. That the amulet was a gift from Chongyun that had a spell to protect you from evil spirits. And finally, that they're going to visit sometime today.

Didn’t Xingqui have some connection with Albedo? That would be an easy way to be innocently introduced into Mondstadt.

The next one thankfully did have eligible handwriting, it was a mix of bold letters and graceful strokes. Yun Jin and Xinyan both came to visit, but only Yun Jin would have time to come today.

The thought of having to entertain all these guests with Baizhu still waiting on the explanation of your Oracle status was not improving your desire to just vanish from Liyue. You forgot how tiring it was to constantly string up webs of lies that make up a cohesive story. It was like being constantly at work with the threat of danger on a brand-new level.

That letter is quickly dismissed and you grab the final letter. The paper is stained, and the edges are worn, opening it a strange set of words are found inside it.

“Hello, do you remember me?”

Frowning, you continue to read it as you search through your memories. The words make little sense until you come across a line that summons a wave of needless guilt.

“Those children enjoyed choosing those gifts for you. They remind me of my son.”

You don’t really want to finish this letter anymore.

Despite your internal feelings, you continue to skim through the letter. It touches on how they’re all adjusting to life back on the streets.

How the kids work together more but wail even louder in the night. The people that curse them out for coming back, the few items they had left swept away by the government as ‘trash’. The empty and hollow feeling she carries now that her son is gone.

She wished that she had given him up at birth like she was advised. That maybe at least then he would still be alive.

She mentions her son at least once every line into the letter.

It’s only when you see the curves of the ink spelling out his name that you scrunch up the paper. The paper crinkles as your teeth grit together, the sounds perfectly in tune with each other.

The anger is confusing. You don’t know the kid, so why should you feel guilty? Why should you feel guilty that she chose to share her anguish with you? Why does the thought of being even more aware of that boy make your heart race?

Slowly, you open the now wrinkled and slightly torn paper and skip straight to the bottom.

“I know you probably don’t care. You never promised me that you could save him or deliver him alive to me. But it’s easier to share these feelings with someone separated from this situation than the people who are already suffering with me.”

“I should take these feelings to the Creator and beg for some relief from my pain, yet I can’t even muster the strength to care for the tongue I ripped out in my mourning. How could I possibly keep this pain to me and the Creator alone? Don’t fret about helping me. I leave that all up to our God.”

That end soothes your racing heart and warped feelings, it’s clear to you now.

You’re beginning to feel the guilt from being their God but unable to actually help with anything. Celestia somehow limited you, none of your acolytes would ever believe you to be the Creator, and the powers you do have access to now are useless.

Was it your fault? Could you have been faster and given that boy some food to have saved him? Can you speak to some form of authority and have them help those victims?

Mindlessly, you begin to tear up the letter. It’s therapeutic to watch the scraps fall onto the tray. Each ink stained paper is ripped with shaking fingers, almost like you’re ripping apart the physical manifestation of your guilt.

It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.

You’re not their God, you’re just the Oracle.

The truth doesn’t matter now. If this world can’t accept you wholeheartedly as the human you are, then why should you work to be seen as the God they cherish so much?

As if on cue, ruby droplets fall onto the worn shredded paper on the tray from the paper cuts you gained from your actions. The new gloves you got from Beidou are threatened to be stained as the red begins to trail down, but you quickly swipe it away.

Cursing yourself internally over the mess you made, you fumble with the drawer next to you for some bandages, not even hearing the repeated knocking on the door. It’s only when it’s opened and the pitter-patter of steps nearing you make you look toward it.

Cold, small fingers wrap around your own as magenta eyes stare up at you past the talisman hanging down from her hat.

“What happened?” Qiqi drawls, her signature zombie-like tone makes shame bubble up within you. Hanging your head, you don’t respond as you avoid her eyes.

You don’t feel normal.

-------------------------

The pharmacy is noisy as people frequently pass by the door to your room. Humming a catchy tune, you drum your fingers on the window sill as you watch outside the window. You imagine the wood of the sill must be cool, but you can’t tell under the bandages wrapped around your fingers.

Baizhu had visited you not too long ago to check on your leftover wounds and apply the topical medication. The cool moisture of the herbal medicine cooled down your body and prevented your apparent fever from worsening.

The room is clean aside from the bag you have left sitting on the bed with your belongings safely tucked away.

A small bag lies inside with the bloodied paper remains sitting inside it. You still aren’t sure if you were better off keeping it or throwing away. The series of knocks on your door bring your attention away from the scenery outside the window.

Staring for a second to be sure if you heard correctly, softer rapping follows up.

“Come in.” You call out before moving closer to the middle of the room. It swings open to show a girl with a shiny pink flower hairpin and a tall man wearing glasses. The smile on Kuan’s face is such a stark difference to the dark circles and sullen expression he wore when you first met him.

Yiran has bright eyes and a smile that could rival match the sun. Propufse thanks leave them both as Yiran keeps her fingers wrapped tight around her father’s. She’s still pale and clings to her father's hand when he moves to give you a handshake, but you gracefully ignore it.

“-Oh, and I’m so sorry that you’re being talked about by so many people. I really didn’t expect it to spread so far when I let her tell those other children that you saved that you were alive and recovering.” He looks kindly down at Yiran before gently urging her. “You too, Yiran, you have to apologize.”

Her eyes droop a little, but she still bows her head slightly as she apologizes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted my friends to know you were okay.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Thank you for the drawing.” You smile at them with ease and maintain small talk with them both a while longer before they leave. The door swings close, and your expression flattens at the same time.

Turning back to the window, you sit again and stare outside. The fluffy white clouds roll past in the blue sky as you allow your mind to go quiet. You just want a brief reprise from the stress you’ve been under all this time.

Time to just exist without having to worry about proving why you deserve to live in this world or your old one. Especially with Ningguang and your travel to the next region so close.

Maybe you took a nap or just dozed off, but the strum of a guitar brought your hazy mind back to awareness. Lifting your head from your arms crossed on the windowsill you see Xinyan taking steps two at a time as she runs from Millelith soldiers.

She quickly jumps off the top step onto the concrete so far below as she continues to play her guitar. It’s impressive, but you can’t help but be irked that soldiers had enough time to chase Xinyan but not help find kidnapped children.

That spiral of thoughts is interrupted as Yun Jin walks up the same set of stairs to Bubu Pharmacy as the soldiers disappear deeper into the city. Outwardly, she’s perfectly maintained, but the slight fidget of her fingers are like a warning sign.

The first and last time you spoke to her was the day of her ‘Lonely Chameleon’ performance that you vaguely recall had her promising to clear up the misunderstanding with Keqing.

What a bunch of good that did.

Yun Jin leaves your sight as she enters the building, and you move away from the window to crack the door open. Sitting on the foot of the bed, you patiently wait for Yun Jin to arrive. The biggest thing you relied on her about was her conversation with Keqing. So at least the situation with the Liyue Qixing can’t get any worse.

A polite knock sounds on the door before you call her in. Yun Jin steps in and closes the door behind her with a graceful smile that you return pleasantly.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you Y/N. I’m unsure if you read the letter but Xinyan and I were incredibly worried. Are you feeling any better?”

It’s not small talk, she’s genuinely concerned, but you have to force the undeserved annoyance down. “I’m feeling way better, and I’m basically almost back to normal. I’ll be discharged today, so don’t worry. Thank you for your concern.” God, you haven’t felt this fake in a while.

Yun Jin walks closer before stopping in front of you, polite as she is, she's not going to ask for a seat so you pat the spot on the bed next to you. Small talk is needlessly exchanged for a few more minutes, but you’re beginning to feel antsy from being stuck in your worry over how Keqing reacted.

“What performance did you do the day after we met? I remember you mentioning how you would speak to Keqing on my behalf after that play.” There it goes again, her fingers twitch before she tightly clasp them together on her lap.

“The performance went well. Thankfully nothing like the Geovishap hatchling accident happened so it wasn’t as stressful. I-I did get to talk to the Yuheng, but I’m afraid she didn’t put much trust into my words.” Just as you thought.

Her eyes squint slightly as she stares down at her lap, the little tremble of her lips and crack in her manners surprises you. You didn’t think she would feel this guilty over it.

“The questions she asked me about how or even just proof of your oracle status were troublesome to say the least. I genuinely didn’t have an answer for most of them and the ones I did weren’t very in-depth. I apologize Y/N.”

Placing your hand on her shoulder, your head shakes softly to deny her words. “Don’t worry about it, Yun Jin. I have a chance to personally refute some of the suspicions on me today. Thank you for at least trying, I just have one question.”

A part of you feels bad that you’re unintentionally displaying your frustrations on Yun Jin but not enough to stop you from asking your question. Her shoulders tense under your hand, and her face freezes when she hears your question.

“Did all those questions make you question whether I’m actually the Creator’s oracle?”

You can only force your lips into a smile that threatens to dissolve into a scowl with every fiber of your self-control at her body's reaction.

----------------------

It’s disappointing, you think to yourself, as Yun Jin basically flees the room. The excuses she gave you and topic changes she tried to pull were pathetic, but you weren’t surprised considering how you went straight for the throat.

Yun Jin was a beast when it came to stage affairs and directing in arts, but there’s little to nothing she has to counter your precise attack. In a way, it’s smart for her to run rather then stand her ground and try to answer.

Standing up, you stretch your body, enjoying the absence of pain. The sly grin you wear is so much more comfortable than the bitter frown you’ve worn these past few days. Yun Jin was simply a good warm up, a nice way to get back into the ‘Oracle’ headspace you’ve developed.

It didn’t matter if you were their God or the Oracle.

Money, shelter, food, and a sense of security were all you needed in life. That is what you’ve focused on to survive all these years, and Teyvat will be no different. If playing along to the cult’s belief of the Creator being the Almighty guarantees your survival, then you’ll happily do so and benefit from their obsession.

Smiling with renewed vigor, you relax on the bed as the sound of footsteps came closer. The hissing of a snake and the muffled words of a man could be heard steadily arriving.

If Yun Jin was a warm-up then Baizhu was your practice. Tonight you had to face Ningguang and that required all your skills to be in top shape lest you end up being killed by her hands.

The door swings open without warning as yellow snake eyes and fushia eyes meet your own eyes hidden beneath your mask. Smiling without a care, you call out to the contracted partners.

“Nice to see you again so soon Dr. Baizhu and it’s nice to meet you Changsheng. You’re here for the scar tissue sample and to ask some questions about my background, right? Come in! Just be sure to close the door behind you…”

Still alive, surprisingly… It's hard to believe that my last update on this story was Nov 14. If you want to hear my excuses as to why it takes long, it basically boils down to school, sick, holiday, and family lol. Plus money but when is it done a problem? But I came back and was working on it very slowly throughout all this time! The next update will take long too as finals are till the 22nd. And then the next semester on the 17(?) of Jan so yeah, little to no break. Thanks to my editor who got it done quite fast which is why the chapter is up now, Sunday night or rather early Monday. I hope it gives you all a good start to the week. To actually talk about about the story, I gotta say that it's longer then I thought. There's still a few leftover tasks to complete before Y/N can truly leave. As well as a hint to the overarching threat now that we got this Celestia hint. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the series! If your name is in italics that means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason. If you are missing from the taglist and I didn't respond to your comment or ask to be added to the taglist, leave a comment here so I can check it. Taglist: Open as always!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

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blue-jisungs · 5 months

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Hii! I hope you're having a nice day or night I would like to request Skz reacting to their idol!s/o performing on MAMA Awards with a very cool and dark concept with their own group, something similar to Itzy's 2021 Mama performance or (G)I-DLE's MMA 2022 performance? Ty!!!

s/o performing on MAMA with dark concept ♡

author's note. thank u for the req!! i hope u like the outcome ^^ i tried my best, i added some like,, solo stage moments??

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

so so so soooo proud

staring at you in awe all the time like,, with all due respect to your members – he’s mesmerized

not only by your beauty, duh but your outfit is something that he just can’t help but stare

he’s extremely proud because he knew how nervous you were before the performance

but oh dude when you drop a diss at mama

the kids look at him in shock but he didn’t know either

the mischievous look in your eye makes him even more mesmerized

after the performance chan mentions it, not to make people suspect anything

"the performances were really, really good. personally, i enjoyed the dark ones"

mhm we all know which specific one !!

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

minho is as anxious as you — it’s first time performing such a dark concept and you’re going to have a solo in it

he knew it since he helped you practice

hence why he’s nervous. not to get him wrong, he knows you’ll slay but it’s a hard dance break

he gets chills the second you enter the stage, a powerful walk along your members

the performance is smooth-sailing and then there’s time for your solo

and keeping it short: you destroyed the stage

minho couldn’t be more proud, especially that you were on everyone’s lips in the industry even weeks after mama

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

mf can’t sit still in one place when he knows it’s your turn perform

his members have to calm him down 😭

you wouldn’t tell him what’s the concept – only that it’s dark and cool concept

he mouths the lyrics of the song, amazed by the stage and outfits

he’s kind of disappointed when it’s over and light go out

but then boom, suddenly there’s a light shining on you and your leader

changbin frowns, not sure what’s happening – and suddenly you have a solo stage, performing a quite sexy dance to tease your next album 🫣

(the members have to tug his clothes to remind him to close his mouth)

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

he’s more excited than you 😭

asks you to send pics of your outfit and makes up and everything !!

absolutely stunned once you enter the stage w your members, dark and elegant suits on

he was sure that you told him everything mhmm

but when suddenly your members run up to you and seem to rip your clothes, he lets out a loud gasp (drawing attention from the idols nearby)

and suddenly there’s a reveal of gold shimmering dress underneath, your maknae putting a crown on your head

he’s so so confused but loves it, his inner artist is buzzing with excitement how to capture that on canvas once he’s home

and he grabs onto chan with tight grip when you hint the next album name, pointing at the crown

be ready to have a lecture ehh didn’t you spoil anything!! why he didn’t know!! and how proud he is<3

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

flustered babyyyyy >.<

he thought it’s a cute concept because your latest album was lovey-dovey

but his mouth falls agape as soon as a mysterious melody reaches his ears and two of your members come in, dressed head to toe in black elegant outfits

he noticed there’s a ?? small podium ?? but didn’t pay any attention to it once you joined your members on stage, also dressed in a mind-blowing dark dress with silver jewelry

you performed one of your popular songs and then three of your members had a cute solo stage, a dance break with a song from your newest album

but the music got cut and the light focused on you, smokey makeup and… fake blood on your face?

you jumped from the podium (like that one wony stage hehe) and your members formed a regular ending position with screens hinting that’s a beginning of new era

dude was speechless and for a moment forgot he’s an idol,, fanboying over his cool n badass gf ^^

(all the fansites thought its adorable meanwhile his member were giggling at him hehe)

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

woah there do you want him (and your fans) dead??

you haven’t spoiled anything to him and now he’s shocked, flustered, amused, amazed and all the other things at once ;; his brain is going 28202729 km per hour like!!

because goddamn you look so hot in such concept…!

and when you start rapping at your solo stage, throwing a snarky comment at mama there and here

felix is just blushing and giggling like a teenage girl,, but also he’s kind of feeling intimidated by your sudden powerful aura

not that he minds tho~

will fight the haters of ur performance if he sees any, literally defending you like a lioness defends her cubs (on anon accs tho lol)

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

to be honest your performance is the only reason why he’s at mama …

he knew how excited you were abt it, saying it’s gonna tease your next comeback

so naturally, he was intrigued

but he wasn’t expecting that

you literally owned the stage,, all of your members too ofc

but there was just something so fresh seeing you in a dark concept with smokey makeup,, kicking a prop chair and loosening your tie…

he was stunned!!!

and seungmin couldn’t help but feel the overflowing sense of pride that it’s his girl right here, catching everyone’s attention

( especially after you cursed in a part of a song that was supposed to be censored )

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

this man almost made you spoil the whole performance for him 😭😭

he’s just as excited as you are, buzzing with excitement

he was even squeezing chan’s hand once you entered the stage

everything was so enchanting – the rock version of your newest song, the mysterious background, dark and elegant outfits

when suddenly a backup dancer handed you a guitar

and you had an electric guitar solo, the accessories you had shimmering in the light

literally everyone was focused at you and your skills, jeongin staring in awe and mouth hanging open

( he just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that “that’s my gf y’all!!” but sadly he couldn’t !!!? <\\3 )

after the solo you joined your members in finishing the choreography,,, he even missed the big spoiler for the next album that your main rapper did in the choreo

bc he was so so focused at you,, he could see how proud you were

and so was he!! expect a lot of kisses n praises after the performance!!

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08

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dreamauri · 7 months

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┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part one ┇୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ╮ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst / romance ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 709 ) ╰ 🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

★ ☆ short start, i think its okay?? ━━━━━━━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( next )

Why were you so shaky? The paint is going to splatter on your clothes. Stop it. You like this shirt. Stop shaking. You should be happy, Y/N. Be happy.

Blink. It's too blurry, blink! Was your vision always so blurry like this?

Yes.

No it's not. Are you crying? You are, aren't you.

"I'm crying?" You're voice was hoarse and quiet. The whole apartment was quiet and your voice was the first one you've heard in a while.

You'd arrived early in the morning only to be greeted by an empty apartment and silence. Your suitcase was the only noise you could hear as you dragged it to the apartment along with it dropping on the floor once you found the spare key and entered.

Your morning was spent deep cleaning and tidying the foreign flat. The dishes were dusty and the carpet had practically gone trough a hurricane. The only pleasure you had taken is unpacking your clothes ( the only items you could bring along ) and finding a fresh canvas waiting for you outside in the balcony.

You thought maybe taking a small painting session would calm your nerves and cool you down. But it didn't. It didn't at all. All it had done was help all the recent events skin in and settle. This would be your new life now.

Streams of hot tears ran down your eyes damping your cheeks. And while some tears ran downpour neck other dripped from your chin onto the colour palette you held in your hand.

With shaky breaths, the paint brush was set down and your palms were quick to rub dry your eyes and tears.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm . . . Back." Max sighed as he was greeted with silence. He entered the apartment. It would be pushing it if he expected you to welcome him with a smile and a kiss.

Especially after that small wedding. And especially after being to busy to plan and go on a honeymoon. And especially after not coming to pick you up from the airport when he instead chose to go play a game of paddle with his friends.

Only when he saw you painting in the balcony did he feel guilt swell in his chest. He'd treated you like a package didn't he? Ordered you. But even packages you wait for and greet at the door.

This package had to let herself in, and she had apparently seen the chaotic state of the household and took matters into her own hands. Max now knew that he didn't make the best choices. Maybe he shouldn't greet you all smelly and exhausted. Not the best way to greet your new wife.

Oh but what a wife. Max thought dreamily, the cool water from the shower adjusting the temperature of his body. Your skin and body, a blessing from heaven. Your eyes, beautiful big diamonds. Your hair, golden silk.

A true prize you were. He's always wanted to keep you in his pocket ever since he saw you for the first time in high-school back in the day. And although he was a whole two years younger than you with him in year 9 and you in 11, he couldn't help himself.

"There you are." Max smiled as he finally found you, his hand finding your bicep and stopping you in your track. "Hey." The greeting was gentle and whispered in your ear, his arm finding your waist and pulling you in a kiss.

"Hi." You whispered just as quietly, looking down to avoid his eyes. You always thought they were too blue and big for his head. People with blue eyes always creeped you out.

"I missed you." "You did?" "Of course I did." Max chuckled , pressing another kiss to your lips. "I see you found my gift." He gestured to the window where the canvas sat drying. "I was going to make you something to eat. I didn't know when you were coming. I didn't hear you come in." "That's fine. I was thinking we can go eat . . . out i mean. eat out . . . You want to eat out?" "—Yeah yeah, I can eat out." You nodded quickly, the awkwardness was growing quickly.

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾#max verstappen #max #mv1 #mv33 #max x reader #max x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #formula racing #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader

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maniacwatchestheworld · 2 months

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DPxDC prompt #10: Vicki Vale will roast Vlad alive

[Props and credit to @starry-songs-canvas for creating this idea (sorta) which can be seen and read here... Which I then created the inverse of for this prompt thing... Enjoy!]

After the latest story she published, Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette needed to lay low. Preferably somewhere that wasn't Gotham City. She knew that she was provoking retaliation by reporting on Gotham's crime families and their latest involvement in city hall, but she didn't care. The truth needed to be known, and her own personal safety was just a small sacrifice that she was more than happy to make for it.

However, the Gotham Gazette couldn't risk having their star reporter getting mysteriously (but suspiciously) killed in one of Gotham's many, many dark backalleyways. So until the heat died down a little, they decided to assign her to a story out of town where she would undoubtedly be safer.

So that's how Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette ended up in Amity Park. She was supposed to be working on a fluff piece. This city had apparently been dealing with one hell of a ghost infestation for a while now, and the Justice League had done practically nothing to help this city deal with this problem. The article was supposed to be about the Justice League and underserved Midwestern cities dealing with unusual problems that only the Justice League could solve. So imagine her surprise when she arrived to town and started digging, only to find a few independent parties actually already dealing with the city's ghost problem, containing the ghosts, and keeping this problem from spreading elsewhere.

Foremost, there was a scientist husband and wife duo who were ghost hunting specalists and inventors. Out of everyone dealing with ghosts in the city, they surprisingly seemed to be the best prepared and had the best equipment for the job. In fact, all of the other major ghost hunting groups and individuals seemed to be using technology based off of their designs... (Certainly there was a story there and someone was probably breaking patent laws, but that would have to be a story for another day.) Secondly were the Guys in White- A little known government organization that specialized in the search and study of ghosts and other possible supernatural anomalies. She had been acquainted with them before, however the task force assigned to this city seemed... Less competent than most... Third was an individual ghost hunter dressed all in red who was known to have a particularly personal hatred for ghosts. She would ride a kind of rocket board over town, and rumor had it that she was actually a teenage girl who was attending the local high school and did the ghost hunting on her hours off from school. Out of the groups of ghost hunters in town, she seemed more interested in destroying ghosts rather than capturing and studying them like the other ghost hunters in town. And last, but certainly not least, was the local ghost boy celebrity hero- a ghost who looked much like a teenage boy who was previously known to the town as "Invis-O-Bill" before it was stated on the news that his name was actually, "Danny Phantom." No one knew why the ghost boy had such a keen interest in capturing ghosts and, according to the rumors, returning them to the place from whence they came, but his efforts were well-known throughout the town, and he was largely adored by the city for it- Especially by the younger crowd.

Vicki had decided to do her due diligence and interview these different groups of ghost hunters before writing this story off entirely. The interviews were interesting, but offered very little for her story. There seemed to be a consensus. While the number of ghosts that needed to be captured could be overwhelming at times, and while the time commitment to hunting ghosts absolutely destroyed the possibility of them having any free time, between the Fentons, Phantom, and the anonymous ghost hunter in red- Whom Vicki had decided to dub "the Red Huntress" for her story (a name that the red-clad ghost hunter seemed to like)- they largely had the problem covered. Sure, backup from the Justice League could be helpful and appreciated, but they didn't really think that the Justice League would be well equipped for their specific problem, and they mostly had it handled. In fact, the Fentons and Red Huntress alike seemed to have a particular passion for ghost hunting that they had no interest in giving up for anything!

As for the question of why people outside of Amity Park thought that this was a problem, while the people actually living there didn't... That yielded a more interesting response... For their part, the Fentons and the Red Huntress didn't know where this perception that they couldn't handle the job was coming from (in fact, the Red Huntress seemed to take particular offense to this idea)... But the Phantom offered a very curious response.

"I don't know... Maybe Vlad's keeping the press from talking about it...?"

"Vlad...?"

"Uh... Yeah! Vlad Masters? The mayor of Amity Park...?"

"You think that he's keeping the news from reporting on the successes of Amity Park's ghost hunters?" Vicki asked it as more of a statement than a question.

"Well, I know that he pays off the local papers to make him look good and for me to look bad, so... I guess it's possible...?"

Vicki thought that was interesting. Very interesting indeed. She thanked the ghost for his time and watched as he flew off, doubtless to find other ghosts menacing the population of Amity Park to defeat them.

She let out a heavy sigh. It looks like this fluff piece about how the Justice League wasn't doing enough to help this community was going to be a bust. The ghost problem was largely covered, and she had suspicions that the Justice League knew this and therefore felt no need to interfere. That wasn't a bad thing. And it certainly wasn't enough of an actual problem to be reported on.

As a reporter, Vicki knew when to trust her gut. And right now her gut was telling her that there was something much more interesting going on in this town other than a little bit of neglect from the Justice League. She pulled out her phone and called her editor-in-chief.

"Hey there, Mr. Ito. Yeah, I'm still in Amity Park, laying low. Think that it's safe for me to come home yet?" She listened to her boss reply over the line. "Oh no, no, that's not a problem at all! I just wanted to call because I think that the current piece is a bust... However... I think that I've come across something even better! Think you can get me some info?" She waited for her boss' response. "Of course, of course! I just wanted to check in with you first. But if you wouldn't mind, could you get someone to help me with digging up as much dirt as we can on Vlad Masters, the current mayor of Amity Park? I just got a tip that he may be paying off the papers here. And from what I've seen, I think that there's something more... Suspicious about him. For now it's just a hunch. But there's something here. I just need to find it."

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc au #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #vicki vale #danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad masters #vlad plasmius

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monicahar · 2 years

Text

drunken nights.

when they get a bit too wasted...

characters; cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, kazuha, nilou, shenhe

; gn! reader, alcohol/drinking, established relationship, slight nsw themes of scara's hehe, this is so unnecessarily long

if you somehow manage to get this man to drink away his burdens, CYNO would be the goofy type of drunk. usually, he'd keep his jokes to himself, waiting for an opportunity to insert them in a conversation. but when he's utterly besotted, that boundary completely disappears into thin air. think of it as a barn of chickens, once his mental capacity is impaired due to drinking, all those chickens escape, about to enforce chaos. you and your friends now have to listen to his horrible jokes throughout the entire night, even if they have no correlation to the topic of the conversation whatsoever. it also doesn't help a bit that he contagiously cackles at all of his jokes. his soar laughing fills the entire table with a sense of melancholy. even after you both get home, he's still cracking horrible jokes whilst you're trying to shove water down his throat.

“hey, hey, [name], do you know why I love you so dearly?” you stay quiet, minding your own business until he suddenly wraps his arms around you—earning a small yelp as he breaths down your ear. “because you're perfect.” “cyno...that's not even funny...” you struggle to surpress the incoming blush. “it's not a joke, you walnut...”

if SCARAMOUCHE ever entertains the thought of getting drunk to momentarily forget his burdens, he'd probably only want to do it alone with you. which is why you're both now in his inazuman-styled bedroom, cups of sake in each other's hands as you both quietly talk just about anything, throwing in some insults here and there because we know how he is. i see him becoming almost becoming a completely different person when drunk. he's more chill, and is definitely a lot more talkative than when he's sober. “i saw a cat today, it reminded me of you.” you lean onto his shoulder, feeling the headache already. “was it mean to you?” he throws a slight glare. “bingo. it was cute though. much like you.” he doesn't have the heart to get mad at the moment. not because he's drunk or anything, but because of how grazing hot your skin is against his. both of your kimonos are loosened due to the growing heat of the room.

he catches a glimpse of your bare shoulders and collarbone, a canvas ready for him to paint with...ahem. suddenly feeling a carnal desire burn inside him, he quickly shifts his position, looking more carefully at your flushed face, dilated eyes as you breath heavily. “kuni, is it just me or is it getting warmer—” you're unable to finish talking as he crashes his lips onto yours. good night ;)

TIGHNARI would be too refined and busy for such activities, so i will use his status as a researcher to my advantage. he's come across a wide variety of plants, but one of your favourite discoveries of his would be that one particular mushroom that enacts alcoholic symptoms upon a living being that consumes it. you both come across it during an expedition, and unsurprisingly—he wants to see its capabilities, ordering you to record it's effects, and to bring him back to ghandarva ville if it turns out serious. he chews on it, slightly grimacing at the taste before he says he feels nothing. making sure to take a sample, you both trudge home just in case it has delayed effects. his guess was right it seems, much to his dismay. you remind yourself to record the effects as he had instructed, but...he's so cute! you can't help but coo at his flushed state, clinging onto your waist as he babbles about nonsense.

“okay, tighnari...i have to write your paper, let go of me for a bit...!” you freeze when he slightly growls in annoyance, tightening his grip on you. his tail wags when you start rubbing his ears, “no...forget it for now...it's just some alcoholic shroom anyways...” “it could turn out more serious, you know?” “don't care...just stay close to me.” he says that, but the very next morning—he's now scolding you for getting distracted from your objective. you had it coming.

we've all seen it. the legendary drunk KAZUHA during the golden archipelago event. he's canonly a slurring mess when drunk, much contrary to his usual poetic self. he leans onto your shoulder, hugging your arm as he coos at how “beauti'fuuul” you are. you can hear venti snicker in the background, earning him a glare from you. he raises his hands in defense and winks, "ehe, he's really intoxicated, isn't he? not just by the beverage, but by you as well." "how romantic!” xinyan cheers. deliberately returning your gaze towards your drunked lover. “kazu, it's time to go home. stand up for me will you?” you attempt to pull him up, but you're surprised to see that he immediately shoots up from his seat, swaying a bit from his dizziness. “hehe, anything'fo my super amaziiiing luvwer...” it reliefs you to know that he still recognises you despite not being fully rational at the moment. arriving at the inn you both rented a night for, you clean him up before plopping down on the bed, exhaustion taking over your sense as he suddenly crawls over you.

“kazu, you need to sleep early. we have a trip tomorrow...” he pays no mind to what you said, leaving butterfly kisses on your neck as you tremble under his hold. this is escalating a bit too fast, you think as you slightly lean back. “mm, i'll sleep, dun' worry...” he hums, muttering an apology onto your neck before snoozing off. what a handful.

as a renowned dancer in sumeru, NILOU is often invited to many parties or celebrations. after dancing for her audience, she'd of course get invited by people to their tables, in hopes of getting to compliment her for the amazing performance. she never drinks alcohol though, choosing to drink juice to maintain her composure and image. except for that one time you were getting forced to drink, but obviously didn't want to so she drank a cup in your stead, earning howls of laughter from your fellow buddies. “how bold of you.” you tease her, causing her to blush. “it's just—you seemed uncomfortable so...” “you're lightweight though. will you be alright? sorry in advance if this gets you in trouble with your manager.” ahhh. :D she completely forgot about that part. raising a brow at the way her expression freezes, you giggle at her usual airhead self. “don't worry. i'll explain it to them in person.” you hold her hand as she starts to sway, her eyes staring to close from the headache that's already growing. that cup of sake was probably a bit too much for what she can handle.

as she's currently freed from her subconscious need of containing her image, she's now smiling like an idiot as she leans onto you, hugging your waist as she nuzzles her face onto your neck. her thoughts are eventually blurred as she starts doze off, only thinking about the way you smell very nice.

someone who you'd never expect to be a fun drinking buddy would be SHENHE. the line that her red seal creates between her soul and her emotions are blurred when she gets intoxicated. choosing to get drunk with you would mean she's intentionally dropping her guard around you, wanting you to see a more vulnerable side of hers. "i often wondered if me having an adeptus's diet would affect how alcohol would take effect in my body. turns out, no...this drink is a dangerous weapon.” you snort at the seriousness in her tone, “yes, very dangerous indeed.” she perks up all of sudden. “your laugh just now.” you blink at her statement. what was wrong with your laugh? you tilt your head, beckoning her to continue. “it was very...cute...? is that how you use that word?” “you only found it cute just now?” you say with a false expression of hurt. “i never thought you to be so cruel with me shenhe...” she tilts her head much like you did earlier. “i've always thought it was 'cute'. i have to constantly tell you?”

you slightly pout, “yes. you do. i want affirmation from you too, you know.” and with that, she suddenly stands up, leaving her cup at her side of the table as she makes her way towards you, abruptly leaning down as she awkwardly cradles your face with her hand. you can smell the alcohol from her lips as your breath hitches. “[name], you're cute.” the words come out more stiff than she intended, but you still found it heartwarming nonetheless.

#tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #nilou x reader #shenhe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #har❗fiction

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 6 months

Note

oh my god there are so many good choice on the touching prompt list for Ace!Tav and Astarion. But since it’s first numerically may I please request 3?

Summary: You finally arrive in Baldur's Gate and you can't sleep. Normally this would mean taking the nearest instrument and playing until your hands are raw. Luckily for your fingers, Astarion is there to listen.

Prompt: hiding face in neck

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

A/N: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to get to this. I swear to god I wrote like five different versions of this thing. Let's give it up for over writing! Enjoy.

Word Count: 1.8K

The night felt oddly still for Baldur’s Gate. You’d traveled so far, done and seen so much and you were finally here. It should have brought you relief; instead, all you could think about was all you had left to do. There were still the tadpoles to deal with and devils and gods and frankly all the things you’d never given a second thought to the last time you stepped through the gates. Perhaps the city felt it as well, collectively holding its breath for whatever was coming next.

You let out a deep sigh, staring up at the darkened ceiling. There would be no hope of sleep tonight. The best you could do was find a way to pass the hours without going mad.

As carefully as you could, you slipped out of bed, mindful of Astarion resting soundly next to you. For all your troubles, they were nothing compared to the horrors coming for him. You wouldn’t disturb his rare moment of peace for the world.

In easy strides you grabbed your lute and made your way to the balcony where a comfortable enough chaise awaited you.

No lamps were needed. Between the moon and the street lamps below, you could see well enough to play for an audience of one.

You started with something easy, plucking out a handful of scales to warm up your hands. It didn’t take long after that for a melody to form, pushing your worries further and further away. Lyrics slipped their way past your lips in whispers and half remembered hums. You were here. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You had control over your body and the sounds pulled from the instrument in your hands. There was still time. The morning hadn’t found you yet.

Soft footsteps approached from behind you; the obvious padding of bare feet on wooden floor boards given just enough extra weight so as not to startle you. Astarion could be very considerate at times.

You paused your hands, turning to face him.

“Sorry, was I playing too loud?”

“Not at all,” he assured. “How else was I supposed to find you after waking to a cold, empty bed?”

You had to at least smile at his dramatics, which seemed to please him as he stepped further onto the balcony.

The light of the moon gave his already pale skin and iridescent glow. His silver curls were just a little ruffled from their perfect coif as his eyes held you with a tired softness that made you ache. It was in moments like this you remembered why poetry existed; paints, canvas, marble, clay, they were too clumsy of tools to capture all of him.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, pulling you from your musings.

“Just needed to clear my head,” you said. “Didn’t want to bother anyone with my plucking.”

“Perish the thought. I rather enjoy your plucking.” He nodded to the empty spot next to you. “May I?”

You couldn’t think of a reason to argue, so you didn’t try. Astarion had proved himself one of the few people you could enjoy a peaceful silence with. So long as he didn’t expect you to entertain him, there was no harm done.

You scooted over to allow him room.

He took it, only to pull you against him, caging you between his legs.

You gave a small yelp of surprise, only just managing to keep hold of your lute. “What are you doing?”

“Making myself comfortable.” His hands found your waist, pulling you closer so your back rested against his chest while his chin made a home on your shoulder. “Go on dearest, start plucking.”

You snorted out a laugh. Gods above, he really was a cat sometimes. He didn’t ask for attention so much as demand it and in a way only the most heartless could be upset by.

“It’s rather difficult for me to perform with my back to the audience,” you said as some attempt at protest.

He gave a noncommittal hum. “I’m inclined to disagree. But if it does bother you, consider me a humble patron observing a rehearsal.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Settling back as best you could, you began again, humming a tune to yourself as you worked out the cords.

A different kind of peace settled over you as he held you. You had come here to be alone, something you had gotten used to over the years. Astarion didn’t have to be here with you, but he was. He chose to sit here in the dark and listen as you played your troubles into the air. It was an alien comfort, one that still left you a little unsure, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one before,” Astarion observed, gently breaking the silence.

“I would think not, seeing how it’s only been in my head for the last few months,” you teased.

He nodded as you felt him shift awkwardly beneath you. “Far be it for me to speak on your artistic vision, but is it meant to be so repetitive?”

You stopped your playing as a flush of warmth came to your cheeks. There was a reason why rehearsals were usually kept private. “Sorry, can’t seem to find the ending.”

“Might be easier if you wrote it down,” he suggested.

“That would require me knowing how.”

“You don’t know how to write music?” He sounded so genuinely surprised, you had to laugh.

“Love, I don’t even know how to read it.”

“Really?”

You shrugged. “Just not how I learned. They weren’t exactly letting riff raff like me into the conservatory.”

You could all but feel the furrow of his brow as his chin pressed against your shoulder. “So every song you’ve ever played, original or otherwise, you taught yourself, by ear, and stored away in that head of yours?”

“You make it sound more impressive than it actually is. Plenty of bards do the exact same thing,” you dismissed.

He hummed in thought. “Perhaps. It does explain why so many of them don’t seem to have anything going on behind the eyes.”

“I’ll try not to be insulted.”

“Present company excluded,” he amended, pressing a kiss to the back of your ear for good measure. “Why do you think I’m so impressed? Beauty, talent and brains are such a rare combination.”

You gave a small huff, earning you another kiss on the temple.

“I’m sure we could find somebody in the city to teach you,” he offered.

You shook your head. “Not interested. Besides, I’ve found it an effective filtration method. If I can’t remember the tune the next day, it probably wasn’t worth learning in the first place.”

“Oh darling, who knew you could be so cruel to your fellow artists,” he said, full of approval. “But, what about when a song of yours is done? Surely then it would be worth preserving.”

“If I’ve done my job well, then the memories of those who have heard it will be preservation enough,” you said. “It’s how all the best songs are passed on anyway. The specifics of who wrote it and when get lost, but the melody remains. It stays in the world because people want it to stay in the world. I think there’s a kind of poetry in that.”

He let out a long exasperated sigh. “How nauseatingly romantic of you. One little problem though, people’s memories are shit. Give it a few centuries and it will barely resemble the original. At least if you write it down they can’t muck it up.”

“It’s obvious you haven’t met many musicians,” you said, dryly. “People are always going to have their own interpretations. Putting it down on paper doesn’t make it any less a memory. Personally, I’d rather keep it living in the mind than in a stagnant drawer somewhere.”

“Or I can just make sure nothing happens to the original.”

He tried to keep his voice light, but there was promise beneath that tingled at the back of your neck. His arms held you a little more tightly. His body tensed. It was as if he was trying to guard you from something, but who or what you could only guess at.

“Astarion–”

“Don’t,” he said, sharply. “I know you want to say something comforting and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear you go on about memory or legacy or things to remember after you’re gone, because you’re not gone. You’re here. You’re here with me, and I don’t care who I have to kill or what bargains I need to make, but I’m not letting you go.”

He turned his face into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. To your surprise, no teeth accompanied the gesture. He just breathed, inhaling your scent deep into his lungs. His touch lingered on your skin as some of the tension left his body; the steady beating of your heart calming him.

“I don’t want memories,” he whispered. “I just want you.”

Your lips parted to speak, but quickly closed. You knew there was a correct thing to say. Letting go was a part of life, whether you liked it or not. Sooner or later, everyone became a memory; but, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear and that wasn’t what you felt.

The promise he made wasn’t some collection of meaningless words, but a desperate, blood soaked plea. For the first time in so long, you knew somebody would be upset if you died, not for the loss of income or poetry, but because you would be gone.

You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to tell him you didn’t just want memories either. You wanted to make the same promise and then hide away somewhere safe where the world wouldn’t dare touch either of you; but, you didn’t say that either.

Instead you placed your hand over his, squeezing his fingers.

“You have me,” you said, softly. “I’m right here.”

A shuddering breath left his body, as if all the emotion he had been containing was suddenly pushed from his lungs. His arms stayed around you, but his whole body relaxed as his head found a new place to live buried in your neck.

“Keep playing, my heart,” he said. “Don’t stop.”

How could anyone say no to such a request?

Your hands found a melody, different from the one before; something complete and familiar. As soon as the song finished you transitioned to another and then another, never stopping until Astarion’s hold became slack and his breathing turned deep and steady, signaling his trace. Only then did you set down your lute and curled into his arms to finally sleep.

You would finish your composition another night. The morning would find you, but you had time. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You were here and you were going to stay.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #asexual #asexual!tav #asexaul!reader #bard!tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

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