#Pure Pink Eve

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Going Live.

Pairing: Yandere!Nanami x Reader (JJK)

Word Count: 7.6k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Camgirl!Reader, Kidnapping, Physical Intimidation, Long-Term Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Behavior, Slight Exhibitionism, and Panic Attacks + Disassociation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were a lot of things to Nanami Kento – his world, his light, his love – but above all else, you were the reason he looked forward to getting home.

Calling it ‘infatuation’ would’ve been a disservice to the depth of his feelings for you. It’d been love at first sight; instant and wholehearted, a shackle snapped shut around his neck that he had no will or desire to escape. His eyes were on his watch as soon as he crossed the threshold, his coat shrugged off and abandoned along with his tie in the doorway. He didn’t bother turning on lights or taking off his shoes, doing anything to make his empty apartment seem more lived-in, his focus solely dedicated to reaching his home office with as few disruptions as was possible, with Gojo and the higher-ups still attempting to contact him about the curse he’d finished exorcising less than an hour prior. They could wait. You wouldn’t.

He was smiling by the time he collapsed into the leather-cushioned chair, his laptop still on his desk from the night before – the last time he got to see you. The motions were automatic, practiced to the point of reflexivity. One hand glided over the keyboard while the other found his phone, silencing it in the same motion as he tossed it haphazardly onto the desk, out of his view. He checked his watch one more time; 6:59. Good. He was early.

His grin brightened, as did his laptop. Your stream flickered to life a second later and with it, your smiling face. The relief was instant, pure warmth accompanying it. The bittersweet tinge – as subtle as it was prodding – came only a moment later, but Nanami did his best to ignore it.

You were the sole reason Nanami Kento looked forward to getting home. The center of his world, the sole light in his otherwise bleak life. The person he loved more than anything, more than everything.

It was only a shame, then, that you had no idea he existed.

One of his favorite things about you had always been your meticulousness. For tonight’s show, you were splayed out across the foot of a queen-sized bed, surrounded by pastel pink satin sheets and a fleece comforter of the same shade, a matching dormant hitachi vibrator (Nanami’s favorite and, guessing from how often it made an appearance in your shows, yours too) nestled between your thighs. Your outfit was aesthetically pleasing – a set of lacey, baby blue lingerie with white, knee socks – but paired with your set up, casual enough to give the impression that you hadn’t realized the camera you were posing in front of was actually on, as if you weren’t entirely prepared to be seen by a thousand or so strangers just yet. The fact that you didn’t start talking right away, only humming as you idly toyed with your hair, only added to the nonchalance of it all. You would make a good actress, if you ever decided to pursue something more, for lack of a more applicable phrase, legitimate.

Nanami’s attention drifted from you to your chat, slowly starting to fill with impatient viewers. Despite himself, he felt his absentminded smile waver, an irk of irritation momentarily tainting his bliss. He knew you weren’t entirely real, that he didn’t have any right to be possessive over a performer, but he loved you. It would’ve been difficult for anyone to watch someone they loved be exposed to so many prying eyes.

user34333: fuck she’s hot

hotbox420: looking good y/n!!!

lostandconfused: why does she still have her clothes on?

 The only silver lining was how oblivious you seemed to it. Another minute passed before you straightened, yawning slightly as you pushed yourself up, legs hanging over the foot of your bed. “Welcome home,” you started, with a quick stretch and a playful wave towards the camera. “Everyone’s already put the kids to bed, right? I’ve got a very special surprise I want to bring out a little later, so nobody’s allowed to leave early.”

Your tone was light, melodic, saccharine. Already, Nanami could feel his cock beginning to harden against his thigh, straining at the material of his pants. You were always mobile during your shows, prone to flitting from one position to another, but tonight, you almost seemed antsy as you pulled your legs back onto the mattress, tucking your knees underneath you and bowing your head, your neutral smile taking on a shy undertone. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” you admitted, speaking quickly enough for the words to blend together. Then, with more composure, “Who wants to get us started?”

Nanami’s hand was already on his keyboard, waiting for your cue. Somehow, he was still too late.

blueeyeswhitedragon sent 150 credits!

blueeyeswhitedragon: Bra first, pretty please.

You giggled as you raised your hands, leaning forward to give the camera a better view of your chest as you undid the clasp at the nape of your neck. Nanami’s breath hitched as the thin fabric fell away, revealing the soft curves of your breasts and your pretty, perfect nipples – already hard, already enough to make saliva pool underneath his tongue. The lower clasp was next, undone with more effort and more bouncing than what seemed absolutely necessary, but Nanami couldn’t complain, not when he was struggling to undo the fly of his dress pants without ever looking away from you. There was another giggle as the article fell away entirely, then a third as you cupped your chest with both hands, groping gently. “I used to be so shy about taking my top off on camera…” You trailed off, batting your eyes. “But, you guys think I’m pretty, right?”

Your requested affirmations flooded the chat in an instant. Nanami grinned, slumping back in his chair. He could compliment any part of you earnestly, but aside from donations, he rarely let himself participate in your chat. Speaking to you so openly, being one of a dozen people whose username you’d glance over in a second – that wasn’t what he wanted. Anonymous adoration wasn’t the shape his affection took.

Eventually, you collapsed back onto your bed. “Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you went on, as Nanami wrapped a fist around the base of his cock. “What next?”

There was another offer – 300 credits for your panties, 400 if you took them off with your back to the camera. You obliged, bent at the waist, inching the silken fabric down your thighs at an almost sadistic pace. After you finished, you seemed ready to move onto the main show, but another donation cropped up in your chat.

user34232 sent 75 credits!

user34232: for the socks pls

That, as far as Nanami could tell, seemed to catch you genuinely off-guard. He could see you blushing as you leaned towards the camera – or, he supposed, the laptop you had positioned underneath it, as if you’d misread something. “…my socks?”

Nanami stifled a grown, tightening his hold. With his free hand, he reached for the keyboard,

n. kento sent 200 credits!

n. kento: Don’t take them off.

You played your part perfectly, sighing as you let your head lull to the side. All it took was you batting your eye lashes while letting out the sweetest murmur of “Well, I don’t know if that’s fair, but…” for your chat to dissolve into a bidding war, donations ranging from five credits to five hundred. If you were making any earnest attempt to keep track of which side was winning, you clearly had no motivation to call it too early on – pulling your legs onto your bed and kicking your feet out playfully towards the camera. “Some of you guys ask for such weird stuff,” you went on, rolling your left ankle. “If someone doesn’t tell me what to do soon, I think I’m just going to have to change into another outfit.”

Nanami let out a breath of a chuckle, only half aware he was typing.

n. kento sent 1,750 credits!

n. kento: You look beautiful. Keep them on.

You laughed, and this time, Nanami chose to believe it was sincere. “I get it! We’ll move on.” You were already leaning back, rolling onto your stomach, giving your viewers a perfect view of your ass as you reached for something off-screen. “Normally I’d ask for a suggestion,” you said, as you brought what you’d retrieved back into frame – a pale pink rabbit vibrator, the penetrative half of the forked wand ribbed. “But I have something I’m kind of looking forward to. I promise, I’ll try to get past the boring stuff quickly.”

You thought too little of yourself. Arousal drooled from Nanami’s flushed tip as you positioned yourself on the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide and slick, glistening pussy fully on display. You were already wet, but he knew you would be. It was something you joked about often – how sensitive you were, how something as minor as a wet dream would have you soaking through your panties. Normally, he would’ve figured you were just playing it up for the sake of your viewers, but it was hard to deny the evidence in front of him.

A whimper slipped past your parted lips as you eased the head of the toy past your entrance, stretching yourself out on its bulbed tip. Now, now, he started to move his hand, pumping his fist over the length of his shaft in short, slow strokes, matching your tempo as you rocked your toy into your pussy. A dull hum fills the room as your thumb finds the switch built into the handle’s underside, and your expression immediately goes from dazed to pained, your tongue peaking out from between your lips and your eyes fluttering shut as your hips bucked against the vibrator. “It—It feels—” Your thighs threaten to twitch shut, but you hold them open, determined to give your audience the best possible view of your pussy clenching around your toy. “I really—I wanna get some bondage gear soon, so that I can—”

Whatever you might’ve said was replaced by a bubbling moan, and just like that, Nanami was fucking his fist without restraint. He knew how pathetic it was, but it would’ve been impossible not to imagine it was his cock sinking into your dripping cunt rather than an inanimate toy, not to wish it was your pussy clamping down around his length rather than his own fist. He wondered what you smelled like, if you wore perfume, what it would be like to have his face buried between your thighs. He was aware, vaguely, that your chat was the most active it’d been all night, people trying to catch your attention with donations and tips and compliments, but they didn’t matter. They weren’t watching you, not really, not the same way Nanami was. He knew you, well enough to know that you couldn’t think once something had been stuffed inside of your cunt. He loved you, enough to wish he was the one making your mind go so euphorically blank.

There was more moaning, more failed attempts to speak, but you didn’t let yourself cum. You were visibly trembling by the time you switched the toy off, and it took agonizing seconds to ease the wand out of your disappointed pussy – seconds Nanami watched with rapt devotion. More out of sympathy than anything else, he lets go of his cock entirely, gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the pulsing ache forming in the pit of his stomach. What was next was better. What was next was worth waiting for.

You took a few panting breaths, your voice still airy by the time you managed to speak. “I have a—” You paused, grinned. Nanami smiled too. “I have a surprise for all of you, tonight. I think I mentioned that already, but— oh, right.” You perked up, playing excited. “We have to move to the floor, for this next part.”

You slipped off-screen, and a second later, the camera shifted to follow you – falling onto a corner of your room less staged than your bed, but just as pristine. Abstract, pastel tapestries obscured the walls, but the dark floorboards were left bare. On one side, most of a dog kennel was visible, decorated with string lights and clearly meant for one of your more niche shows, and on the other, he could make out the bottom corner of a poster – not for anything kinky, or sensual, or in any way suggestive, but an underground band, a local band. You probably hadn’t realized it was in the shot, let alone meant for it to be. You were usually more careful about giving away anything even remotely personal, but Nanami couldn’t be mad.

After all, it’d been that poster that’d let him find you.

He could still remember the first time he ever saw you – actually saw you, not through a screen, but in person. After he knew that you lived in the same city as him (the same district, even), it’d only taken a few more days to find your name, your age, your address. Still, he put off visiting you for weeks, telling himself that it didn’t matter, that you wouldn’t recognize him, that you wouldn’t want to see him. And, in the end, you hadn’t seen him at all – you hadn’t needed to.

That night, he’d watched your show from the rooftop of the building opposite of yours, straining to see you through a bedroom window left carelessly open. Even now, the guilt was almost tangibly agonizing, the shame practically unbearable.

Almost as unbearable as the temptation to go back.

But, that part would come soon enough. You were on screen, again, holding something he recognized.

“I have some exciting news,” you chirped, as you kneeled on the floor, holding a pitch-black dildo, a suction cup attached to the base. Despite its color, Nanami could make out defined veins running down the silicone shaft, a noticeable girth to the base. A perfect mirror of the cock currently pulsing for attention in his lap.

He felt himself grinning, as you went on. “I got my first real fan gift!” You held up the toy to your cheek, like a child showing off their first stuffed animal, before planting it on the floor between your thighs. “It’s so big, too,” you said, showing off its size, where the blunt tip rested well above your navel. “Everyone say thank you, Daddy Kento!”

Your chat was instantly flooded with predictable responses, but Nanami couldn’t look away from you. You were enjoying yourself, clearly. You must’ve thought you were so smart, renting out a P. O. box, going on and on about how grateful you were to your dedicated fans when he reached out to ask if you accepted physical donations, and you were smart. It was only a shame that Nanami loved you enough to look past all of your attempts to keep him away.

As you began to move onto your knees, he allowed himself one more intervention.

n. kento sent 3,000 credits!

n. kento: Take it to the hilt.

It was cruder than he usually cared to be, but as your eyes flickered towards your monitor, your lips quirked into a slight smile. You didn’t respond verbally, but you nodded, and sunk down onto his cock.

Immediately, his hand wasn’t enough, but he tried to make do – matching your agonizingly slow pace, imagining what it would feel like to have you lower yourself down onto his real cock, rather than a cheap imitation. Trails of iridescent slick dripped down the dark silicone, your camera positioned strategically to catch every bounce of your breasts as your breathing hitched, to provide the optimal view of your pussy stretching around the tip, then the head, then the shaft as you lowered yourself slowly. “It—It’s so big,” you repeated, bringing a hand up to your stomach while the other remained on the floor, keeping you stable. “I mean, I knew it would be, but—fuck—” Another inch, Nanami’s fist moving over the same part of his cock. You let out an airy laugh. “Just be thankful I’m so tough.”

“I am,” Nanami muttered, his voice echoing off the bare walls of his office. “You’re perfect.”

“I really wanna cum on this one, too – to, like, christen it, or something. Been keeping myself pent up all day for it.” With a pitchy keen, you brought yourself a few inches higher, then dropped. Your free hand shot away from your stomach and back to the floor as you continued to bounce on the toy’s length, getting just a little deeper each time. “Welcome it to family, y’know? Maybe make it a regular, for you sadists out there.”

Nanami stiffened at the thought of you fucking yourself on a replica of his cock in front of thousands of people twice a week; drooling and panting as you told your viewers how big he was, how good he felt inside of you. With his restraint brought to its limits, he fucked his fist carelessly, his attention fixed on the steady movements of your hips as you rode his toy. Your eyes didn’t flutter closed, this time – they clenched shut, and you couldn’t seem to keep your voice under control, little mewls and half-conscious whines bubbling up from your chest as you struggled to take that much more of him with every thrust. When you did manage to speak, your voice was uneven, whiney, so sweet it made him want to dig his teeth into something and tear. “I’m so close,” and then, as you brought yourself back down, so close to bottoming out, “I wanna cum!”

“You will,” Nanami whispered. He knew you couldn’t hear him, but it was true – you would, and if he’d been able to, he would’ve made you. He would’ve let you fuck yourself on his cock whenever you asked, would’ve woken you up every morning coming undone on his tongue and made sure you fell asleep with his cock buried inside of you. If you were with him, you’d never have to think again, never have to feel anything but pleasure – any time you wanted it, every time you wanted it. He’d make sure—

You didn’t moan as you reached the toy’s base, you screamed. One of your hands moved to the space between your thighs, two fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit as you nursed yourself through your orgasm. Nanami didn’t stand a chance, still chasing his fantasies as he spilled over his hand; searing hot cum pooling on his lap, soaking into the material of his shirt, spilling onto his desk. He didn’t stop moving his hand, though, not until you went limp – bending at the waist, bracing yourself on the floor. Finally, you managed to raise your head, flashing that brilliant smile towards the camera. Of course, Nanami smiled back.

In a daze, he watched you ease yourself off of the toy and wrap up your stream, so familiar from your script that he would’ve been able to recite it with confidence. Even after you signed off, the screen going black, he didn’t move, only letting his head roll to the side with a shallow sigh.

It was pathetic, just how much he loved you. It was painful, being so far from someone who made him feel so irrationally happy.

He could only count the days until he wouldn’t have to limit himself to only watching from a distance any longer.

~

There was a man in your apartment.

A man you didn’t want to be in your apartment, just to be clear. You’d heard the front door open, seen a bulky silhouette moving through your living room, and now, you were listening to him riffle through your bedroom as you hid in the en suite bathroom – crouched in the smallest corner you could find with both hands locked over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound of your own breathing. The door was locked, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to find out how much a thin sheet of wood would do to protect you. You didn’t want to give him a reason to acknowledge you at all.

As far as you could tell, there was only one intruder. You could only hear one pair of muffled footsteps, with second-long gaps between every little movement. The air caught in your throat as you heard him edge closer, closer, then pause. There was a dull clack, the sound of metal clashing against plastic, and you relaxed, sighing into your palms. Your filming equipment. It was expensive, but nothing you couldn’t replace. If you were lucky, he’d take what he could carry and leave.

And that was what he seemed to be doing, too – more rustling interrupted every so often by a few moments of heart-wrenching silence. Soon enough, you heard the intruder start to move again, his footsteps edging closer to the bathroom door as he moved to leave your bedroom entirely, and—

“(Y/n)?”

Fuck.

You didn’t say anything, holding your breath and digging your nails into your cheeks, willing yourself not to move, not to think. You didn’t make a sound, you couldn’t have, and yet he kept talking.

“I know you’re in there. Please, come out.”

He couldn’t know. He couldn’t know. You’d kept the lights off, and you hadn’t moved in minutes, and—

He tried the knob, and something cracked deep inside of your chest. There was an airy sigh, then a dull thud, like he was leaning against the door frame. “Please,” he repeated, sounding more exasperated than angry. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Y-you can take whatever you want,” you stuttered, your voice unsteady, just a touch louder than it really had to be. That was fine. You didn’t have to pretend to be brave, so long as you made it out of this alive and uninjured. “I won’t call the police – I can’t call the police, I left my phone in the kitchen. You can take it, too. I… I don’t have a lot of cash, but my camera, it should be worth—”

“I don’t want your camera, love.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he sounded wistful. “Come out, or I’ll break down the door.”

Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to you that he could.

It took a second to pry your hands off of your face, and another to push yourself to your feet – your legs shaking as you struggled to stand. Almost mechanically, you moved towards the door; unlocking it in the same motion as you pulled it open. Light from your bedroom spilled into the entryway, revealing—

God.

He was taller than you’d expected him to be.

Six feet at least, with a build to match. The sleeves of his dress-shirt were rolled up to his elbow, showing off arms so muscular, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d planned to tear your door off its hinges with his bare hands. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, visibly full, but you could still see your equipment standing untouched behind him, and you couldn’t imagine anything else he would’ve wanted to take. His blonde hair was swept back, out of his eyes, and he was holding a butcher’s knife in his right hand, the blade wrapped in leopard-spotted fabric. Surprisingly, though, his weapon wasn’t what concerned you the most.

He was smiling. No, actually, that wasn’t right.

He was beaming.

“(Y/n),” he said, again. You didn’t let yourself wonder why he knew your name. “I—I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I might’ve gotten a little carried away – I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“…it’s okay,” you managed, your voice barely audible. “Are you going to kill me?”

His expression dropped. “No. Of course not.” And then, after a brief lapse, “I’d never hurt you. I…” You saw his right hand flex around the grip of his knife, and thought you might black out. “I’m a fan.”

Instantly, you felt the blood freeze in your veins.

Fuck. Fuck.

You knew you should’ve gone into accounting.

“I… You’re a fan?” You tried to smile, but it might’ve come across more pained than relieved. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to meeting people who’ve caught my stream. Should I know what to call you?”

And just like that, his grin was back, any momentary tension assayed. You wished he would’ve put down the knife, too, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Kento,” he said, and for the first time, you noticed the pink hue creeping over his cheeks. “Nanami Kento.”

You grit your teeth as you struggled to place him. After a second, it came to you.

Kento. Right. The dildo guy.

Somehow, knowledge provided little comfort. Still, you soldiered on. “It’s really nice to meet you, Nanami.” You clasped your hands behind your back, rocking gently on your heels. “I—I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting any guests. If you want to step out for a couple minutes, I can change into something more comfortable, and show you how appreciative I am for your—”

“I’m not an idiot.” He cut you off, still grinning. “You’re coming with me.”

You didn’t let your smile waver, either. “And, if I didn’t want to go with you…?”

 “I’m afraid this isn’t about what you want, anymore.”

You meant to say something – opened your mouth and everything – but nothing came out. Your heart tightened in your chest, a not inconsiderable portion of your mind screaming for you to run, run, run. And yet, when he took you by the wrist in a feather-light hold, leading you through your own apartment and out into the hall, it was all you could do to smile and follow after him.

~

The first thirty minutes of the car ride passed in silence. Nanami – because you couldn’t stand to keep thinking of him as ‘that guy who bought you a dildo shaped like his own dick and paid you thousands of dollars to ride it live on stream’ – kept his knife in his lap, his hand falling away from the wheel and onto its hilt whenever you so much as took a deep breath. Eventually, your eyes fell to the clock built into his dashboard, and you broke through your paralysis with a nervous laugh.

“It’s a little funny,” you started, for lack of anything else to do. “I’d actually normally be getting ready for my stream, around now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him swallow, his jaw tensing. “I know.”

Great. Okay. Whatever. “I don’t mind, y’know,” you managed, before you could let yourself fully consider what you were going to say. “If it means we don’t have to go through with the whole kidnapping thing, I really wouldn’t mind sleeping with you – you can even take pictures, if you’d like that, or record, whichever you’d prefer.”

“That’s not what I—”

“I haven’t tried a lot of hardcore stuff, but I wouldn’t mind if that’s what you’re into. We don’t even have to go back to my apartment, you could just pull over, and—”

“That’s not what I’m interested in.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone left no room for protest. “I’m not going to… I’m not going to just fuck you once and leave you by the side of the road. I’m doing this for your sake.”

As if you’d willingly climbed into a maniac’s car. “I… I’m not following, Kento.”

“It’s for your own protection. Once I thought to look, it took me hours to find out everything about you.” He spared you a quick glance, that same uncanny smile. One of his hands left the wheel and, rather than moving to his knife, found your knee, squeezing gently. It took everything you had not to scream. “Imagine what someone could do with that kind of information. They could blackmail you, if they found your full name, or track you down if they pieced together your address. It’d be a miracle if they were only a stalker. It just wasn’t safe to let you keep going on that way.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. “They could even break into my apartment and abduct me at knifepoint.”

His gaze narrowed, but his smile only softened. Neither of you spoke for the rest of the journey.

After far too long and not nearly long enough, you reached your destination: a housing complex, leagues nicer (and more expensive) than your own rundown building. Calling them apartments would’ve been a disservice; they were more similar to free-standing condos, or miniature villas slotted just outside of the city’s more metropolitan districts. Without a word, you let him guide you into a relatively generic home, its only notable feature being the absolute lack of evidence of meaningful life within it. You wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a rental, leased exclusively to give him someplace to do… well, whatever he planned to do to you. It’d be more off-putting to know that someone actually lived someplace so vacant.

He led you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs, keeping you in front of him and in his line of sight at all times. Finally, you reached the door he seemed to be looking for and, with a nod by way of instruction, let yourself inside.

Before you stood, puzzlingly, your own bedroom.

Or – the parts of it you could make out on camera, at least. The bed was the same size, the same model, made with the same sheets and littered with the same pillows, but the floor was covered in a harsh white carpeting, the surrounding walls soundproofed with suffocating black foam. Camera equipment identical to your own had been set-up at the foot of your bed, but an unfamiliar silver laptop replaced your own sticker-covered monstrosity. You didn’t see any chains, whips, or shock collars, which was good. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on, which was bad.

Confused, you turned to Nanami as he crossed the threshold and rather conservatively, shut and locked the door. “There are clothes on the bed,” he explained, with a tone that made it difficult to tell whether or not he knew how weird this was. “A script, too. Memorize as much as you can.”

So he still expected you to stream. Or, that was what you hoped, at least – considering the only alternative was that he was planning to make an extremely elaborate snuff film. “I’m not used to using scripts.”

“You’ll manage.”

You didn’t bother trying to argue, only moving towards the bed and attempting to forget he was there entirely.

The ‘clothes’ he’d left for you turned out to be lingerie – the nice stuff, too, white and lacey and bridal with a babydoll cut. You glanced over his script (which, disturbingly, didn’t exactly not sound like you) as you got dressed and fixed your hair, doing the best you could without any of your usual supplies. You wouldn’t be able to reapply your make-up, but you’d put some on earlier, and—

You almost laughed at yourself, stifling a chuckle.

You’d been kidnapped, and you were worried about your make-up. If you got out of this alive, you swore, you’d never touch foundation or a ring light or a camera ever again.

He didn’t have to tell you when it was time – you would’ve known by instinct alone. With Namami watching from an armchair pushed against the opposite wall, you clambered onto the bed and took your usual position, kneeling in center frame. He’d never asked for your credentials, and yet, when you glanced towards the laptop positioned just underneath the main camera, you found that your own profile was already pulled up, a miniature timer in the corner of the screen counting down the seconds until you went live.

As it reached thirty seconds ‘till, it occurred to you that you were in a soundproof room alone with the man who’d kidnapped you and was currently holding you hostage, and that no one could’ve possibly known where you were or, more importantly, who you’d been taken by.

As it reached fifteen, you realized you were being held captive and being forced to wear bridal lingerie that your kidnapped must’ve picked out with the occasion in mind.

As it reached five, for the first time that day, you thought you might actually start to cry.

And, as it reached zero, you put on your biggest, brightest smile and hoped beyond hope that you’d stop thinking entirely, eventually.

“Welcome home!” Skipping over your normal grace period only felt right. You didn’t think you’d be able to survive sitting in silent, motionless suspension for another second, let alone a full minute. “Sorry if I seem a little nervous tonight – to tell the truth, I kind of am. I’ve got a major announcement, and I just can’t put it off any longer.”

Reflexively, your attention drifted first to your own feed – you looked perfect, as always – then to your chat, moving quickly despite your sudden start. You caught a few of the longer messages in your peripheral.

secretary.lover: Is it just me, or does she seem kind scared lmao?

blueeyeswhitedragon: yeahhh i thought her room looked kinda weird too lol

justheretowatch: fuck ur pretty

rapidfire: let me guess, another fake dick?

“I know I probably should’ve given you guys more of a warning,” you went on, fighting the temptation to break, to yell for them to call the police, to give up entirely and make a run for it. “But…”  

You forced yourself to laugh, to beam, to clap your hands together in front of your chest like a schoolgirl – excited to tell her friends that she’d gone through with her first ever confession. “I’m getting married!”

You didn’t have a ring to show off, but you tried your best to preen regardless, to not let any amount of fear or discomfort or hesitation show on your shining expression. After a show delay, congratulations and well-wishes filled your chat (some genuine, others more reluctant), and you did your best to go on without letting the sizable knot slowly gaining mass in the back of your throat smother your voice entirely. “This is going to be my last stream – for a while, at least, until we get settled in. And…”

You tried to remember what’d been listed next in Nanami’s script, but your conscious mind was bogged down by a thick layer of buzzing static, your sense of improvisation dulled by a heavy dose of anxiety. Your eyes flickered to where Nanami was sitting behind your equipment, only to find that the chair he’d formerly occupied empty. You didn’t have time to panic before the edge of the mattress dipped under a new weight, and you remembered what you were supposed to say. “My husband actually wanted to cameo on my send-off show. I was a little hesitant—” Another dip in the mattress, this one much closer than the last. “—but he insisted. I thought you all deserved a chance to meet him, too.”

As soon as you finished, you felt a large hand on your shoulder, a sudden presence at your back. Your gaze fell back to your feed, your own image now accompanied by that of your captor – on his knees behind you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, the framing positioned so that his head was cut off just above the mouth. The lower half of his face was covered with a black surgical mask, and you had to stop yourself from frowning. You hadn’t expected him to be stupid enough to show his face on camera, but still.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you felt his hand fall away from your shoulder, slipping underneath the lace camisole of your babydoll. You tried not to move, not to flinch, but you couldn’t stop yourself from jerking forward as you felt his hand slip under your bralette, the angular ridges of his knuckles visible through the thin silk. Despite everything he’d said about not hurting you, about doing this for your protection, he made no attempt to be gentle – the calloused pads of his fingers pressing into the curve of your breast with enough force to bruise. You bit back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sincere reaction. If you wanted to go home, you had to put up with this. He’d never said anything about pretending to enjoy it.

(In the back of your mind, you knew he hadn’t said anything about letting you go home, either. Still, you didn’t let yourself dwell on such discontinuities).

 You should’ve known better than to think he’d attempt to follow the normal flow of your stream, and yet, it still caught you off-guard when his unoccupied hand found its way to the waistband of your panties, then to your clothed sex. You weren’t overly sensitive, despite how you might’ve acted in front of your viewers, but you were still on edge, still panicked, and while the adrenaline being held at knifepoint might’ve sparked was beginning to fade, having your kidnapper grope you on camera was enough to bring on a fresh wave. Reflexively, you pressed your back into his broad chest as his thumb traced over the length of your slit, pausing only momentarily to press into your clit with a dull, oppressive sort of pressure, biting down on your bottom lips to stop anything vulnerable and pathetic from escaping. If Nanami was affected by your stoicism, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling the flimsy material to the side entirely and slipping two fingers into you, your now-slick cunt providing humiliatingly easy access. In the same motion, the heel of his palm pressed into your clit, the friction immediately too harsh, too much. It would’ve been too much if he wasn’t touching you at all. It would’ve been too much if he was still sitting alone in his dark, empty house – getting off to the idea of degrading someone he claimed to care about so publicly.

It didn’t help that you were wet. Not dripping, sure, but wet enough for there to be an audible, slick clicking-type noise as he pumped his digits into you, never taking the pressure off of your clit. You could feel his cock pressed into your ass, already hard, already too familiar not to be nauseating, but he didn’t seem to be in a rush to move past your exhibition; his pace measured and experimental, his fingers prone to spreading apart and curling inside of you. To distract yourself, you moved your attention back to your chat, trying to pick out the longer messages between donation notifications.

user84343: girl i call dibs when you’re done with him

hotbox420: no seriously y/n are you okay???

bunnygirl69: still can’t believe you’re leaving us for him </3 can’t say i don’t see why tho ToT

absolutely.soaked: Blink twice if you’re in danger lmaoooo

“G-guys, I’m totally—” Your breath hitched as he forced another finger into you, the stretch now a touch past ignorable. His other hand kneaded at your chest, blunt nails scraping against tender flesh, and momentarily, you wondered if it really would’ve been so bad to take your chances and let him kill you right away. “I’m totally fine, I’m just—” His nails bit into your skin by way of warning, and you allowed yourself a single, stilted moan. “I’m just so happy that I finally get to—to—”

You didn’t know what you were supposed to say, but it didn’t matter. Nanami’s hand dropped from your chest to your side, his arm locking over your midriff and hauling you that much closer. You couldn’t stop yourself this time – whimpering as the tempo of his fingers sped up, as tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes. You glanced around the bedroom, searching for anything familiar, anything you could use to stabilize yourself, anything that you could start to find comforting. Instead, your eyes landed on the duffle bag he’d carried out of your apartment, the zipper now partially undone. You couldn’t see much, but you could make out the handle of a pink hitachi. It wasn’t difficult to guess what the rest of the bag’s contents looked like, what he’d spent so long riffling through your possessions to find.

It wouldn’t been pointless to try and hold back the crooked, ebbing sob that leaked past your lips. This time, when you turned to face your camera, it was with tears just beginning to spill and absolute terror written across your expression. “Call the police,” you managed to spit out, making no attempt to be subtle. “I—I don’t actually know this man, and this isn’t my apartment, and—“

It happened too quickly – like he’d been expecting you to do something so obviously short-sighted. You processed that he was pulling out of your cunt as you felt his fingers entangle themselves in your hair, and then your face was being shoved against the mattress, your body folding over itself as he forced you down. You tried to yell, tried to scream, but your voice was muffled by your own fucking comforter as you heard fabric shifting behind you, as you felt something warm and stiff and leaking align with your entrance. You refused to put a name to it, but that didn’t help. Nothing would’ve helped.

His palm pressed into the back of your head, his body slotting against yours as he leaned down, lowering his head so that he could speak directly into your ear. “I’m doing this for your own good,” he whispered, his voice muffled but still painfully audible. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

You didn’t have a chance to response. He was already inside of you – his cock filling you to your breaking point.

You weren’t sure if your viewers could hear you, but you hoped they could. It would’ve been a pity to sob so loudly for the sole entertainment of the sick, sick man currently rutting into you, grinding into your cunt from behind with a kind of animalistic desperation – all desire and no control. It was a struggle to stay on your knees, not to go entirely limp underneath him, but you doubted it would’ve made a difference if you hadn’t, that he wouldn’t have fucked your limp body just as enthusiastically. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely see the monitor – the miniature image of Nanami’s body moving on top of yours, his blond hair still obscuring the other half of his face, and then next to it, your chat. If you’d been thinking more clearly, you wouldn’t have let yourself look, wouldn’t have let yourself fully acknowledge that there were still thousands of people watching you, but you weren’t thinking at all, and you would’ve given anything for someone to say something that made you forget where you were, just for a second.

sniper727: so the bitch likes it rough? hot

callmeanonymous: FINALLY!!! I’ve been waiting for some cnc rp for actual years.

blueeyeswhitedragon: hey i think i might work with that guy

hotbox420: yeah no i’m calling the cops.

Predictably, your efforts were grotesquely unsuccessful.

Nanami didn’t seem as bothered. The weight on the back of your head disappeared as his hands found your hips, pulling up as he straightened his back. For anyone else, it might’ve been an awkward position – holding up your uncooperative form while bouncing you on his cock  – but no amount of unpleasant technicalities could’ve stopped him from burying himself to hilt with every stroke, keeping you in a constant state of mind-numbing fullness. You tried to talk, again, to call for help, but fractured mewls and pathetic whines drowned out whatever you might’ve said, and even those were put to an end as Nanami took you by the jaw, turning you to face him as his lips crashed into your – his mask either pulled down or discarded entirely, you couldn’t be bothered to check. The kiss itself was messy, rough, brutal, his tongue raking over yours as you sobbed unabashedly into his mouth – your connection only growing more chaotic as his hand once again found your clit and ground two fingers into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You knew what he wanted. You knew what he was trying to do.

And you couldn’t do anything to stop him.

With a ragged sob, you came undone around his cock, any strength you might’ve once had flooding out of your body and dripping down his shaft. Nanami groaned into your mouth, drawing back just far enough to bury his face in your neck and mouth meaningless nothings into your throat as he chased his own climax. He thrusted into you again once, twice, and then you felt pure heat pour into you – a new kind of torture that rendered you entirely senseless. You didn’t try to scream, again.

You were distantly aware of him moving, shifting, pulling something out of his pocket as he muttered a mix of ‘you did so well’s and ‘I love you’s into your skin. When you did finally manage to raise your head, you didn’t think to look toward the remote in his hand or your tattered lingerie or the cum slowly leaking out of your entrance. Rather, your attention landed on the same thing it always did during your streams – your monitor.

You’d never know why, but for whatever reason, you could feel your heart break in your chest as you realized that the screen had already gone black.

[goldfades]

𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hiii could I request a fic where paige meets your family and she and your toddler nephew end up loving each other and it makes the reader love paige even more 🥺🥺"

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | nothing but absolute fluff, like seriously - sososo cute. parents being super welcoming (r has a sister and brother-in-law, i had to name the characters i hope yall dont mind), lots of banter/teasing, lots of basketball talk, BABY FEVERRRR!!!!!!!!! paige/dad bonding, umm.. nothing else??

─ ev's notes | the chokehold the pic in the middle has on me IS INSANE

"DON'T BE NERVOUS," you smiled reassuringly at your girlfriend, who was currently fixing up her hair in the rearview mirror of her car. "They're gonna love you."

You and Paige had been dating for almost a year now, it'd been pure bliss ─ it was everything you'd hoped for in a relationship and more. You'd never been more fulfilled in your life, and Paige felt the exact same way. As your relationship progressed, you realized that it was the perfect time for her to meet your family.

Paige had become such an integral part of your life, and so was your family ─ meeting them was now a milestone in the relationship, and you were never more excited for someone to meet your family.

As Paige put the finishing touches on her hair, you couldn't help but admire her. She looked beautiful, as always, and you couldn't wait for your family to see just how amazing she was.

Paige sighed nervously as you exchanged glances, yours soft. You reached out, gently touching her hand to reassure her more.

"They're really looking excited to meet you," you said, sincerity evident in your voice. "Trust me, they're going to love you just as much as I do."

Paige flashed a nervous smile, but you could see the hint of excitement behind it. She squeezed your hand gently, drawing comfort from your touch. "I hope so," she replied softly.

With a final check in the mirror, Paige took a deep breath and turned off the ignition. Stepping out of the car, she linked her hand with yours, and together you made your way towards the front door of your family home.

You knocked, and after a few moments, the door swung open to reveal your parents, who greeted you both with warm smiles. "Oh my god, Y/N!" your mother squealed as she pulled you into a hug.

You quickly wrapped your arms around her, engulfing her in a warm hug. Your dad gave you a quick hug before they turned their attention to Paige, a nervous smile on her face as she glanced toward you.

Your mother's eyes lit up as she turned to Paige. "And you must be Paige! It's so lovely to finally meet you," she exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

Paige returned the embrace, her tension visibly easing as she felt your family's warmth. "Here I, uh brought some wine."

Your mother's eyes lit up as she took the wine from Paige's hands, letting out a small laugh. "Thank you so much, Paige! That's very thoughtful of you," your mother said, her smile widening as she inspected the bottle of wine. "You didn't have to bring anything, but we'll definitely enjoy this."

Your dad stepped forward, offering Paige a friendly handshake and a smile. Paige returned the handshake, relief evident in her expression.

"I just wanted to make a good impression," she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

"Well, you've already done that," your dad chimed in, his tone warm. "Anyone who brings wine is definitely welcome in our home."

You and Paige exchanged looks before laughing, your parents joining in after a few seconds.

With that, your family ushered Paige inside, leading her to the cozy living room where the fireplace crackled warmly. The familiar smells of home cooking made Paige relax as she began taking in your home, more specifically ─ the baby photos.

"That's Y/N and her older sister, Marie." Your mother spoke fondly as she saw that Paige was looking. Paige looked back at you with a warm smile.

As your mother pointed to a particularly old photo, Paige's gaze lingered on it, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She turned to you, her eyes reflecting the affection she felt. "You were such a cute kid," she teased gently.

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for Paige as you shared a knowing look. "Well, I had good genes to work with," you replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand affectionately.

"Oh! Speaking of babies. Honey, is Jordan coming tonight?" Your mother chirped toward your father, who was currently looking at the old photo album.

Paige glanced toward you with a confused expression before your mother clarified, a small smile on her face. "Jordan is her older sister's kid, he's adorable."

"You're gonna love him," you whispered toward your girlfriend as her smile got even bigger. If there's one thing everyone knows about Paige, she's the best with kids.

Your father nodded toward your mom, a smile on her face. "Oh yes, he is. He loves basketball, too." His eyes lit up as he glanced toward Paige, a grin on his face.

"Dad," you mumbled, an embarrassed tint on your face as he put his hands up in defense. He definitely did his research on Paige and he was going to make sure he used it. "My dad loves basketball-"

"What? You didn't tell me that!" Paige exclaimed as she glanced toward your father, a grin playing on her lips.

You sighed, sharing a glance toward your very amused mother. "Yeah, cause I knew you two were just gonna talk about basketball for the rest of the night."

Your dad chuckled, shooting you a playful wink before turning his attention back to Paige. "When Y/N told me that she was dating a basketball player, I didn't she meant you."

"I remember me and Daniel, you don't know him yet but you'll definitely meet him ─ were talking about you were the future of the WNBA, and the next day I get a call from Y/N, telling me she was dating you, not even joking. Sweetheart, tell her."

"Yes, it's true. I was there," your mother confirmed with a nod as Paige let out a laugh, glancing toward you.

"I was starstruck, if I'm being honest," your father continued as he grinned at Paige. "I woke up the next day and went to the country club, telling all my pals that my daughter is gonna be the future Mrs. Bueckers."

"Hey, who said I'm taking her last name?" You joked as you sent your father a playful glare.

Your father laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you better start getting used to the idea, sweetheart," he teased, his grin widening.

"We actually already talked about this, she is taking my last name." Paige spoke proudly as your father clapped, causing a small laugh from your mother.

You couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter between your father and Paige. "Looks like you've got it all planned out," you remarked, shooting Paige a fond smile.

Paige grinned, nodding in agreement. "Hey, tradition's tradition,"

Your father clapped his hands together in mock triumph. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride. "Mrs. Bueckers sounds amazing, just so you know. Also, season tickets... you know anything about those?"

Paige sent your father a cocky nod, as he clapped his hands again. You couldn't help but laugh at your father's enthusiasm, shaking your head in amusement. "Dad, slow down," you teased, shooting him a playful glare.

Paige joined in the laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she exchanged a knowing glance with you. "Well, I do like the sound of Mrs. Bueckers,"

Your father grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, his grin widening.

Your mother chuckled, shaking her head affectionately at the scene unfolding before her. "Oh goodness, you two are getting too carried away."

Before anyone else could respond, the front door opened to reveal your older sister and her husband, who was holding a toddler. Your sister's arrival drew everyone's attention, and a chorus of greetings filled the room as she and her husband stepped inside, their toddler squirming in his father's arms.

"Oh finally," you exhaled as Paige laughed. "You came at the perfect time, Dad was pimping me out for season tickets."

Paige burst into laughter at your comment, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she glanced at your father, who was trying to stifle his own laughter. "That's not was happening, like at all."

Your sister raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "That sounds like dad," she teased, shooting a knowing glance at your father as you laughed. She met Paige's gaze with a smile as she outstretched her hand. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Marie, Y/N's older sister."

Paige returned Marie's smile warmly, shaking her hand with genuine pleasure. "It's so nice to meet you, Marie," she said, her tone friendly. "Y/N has told me so much about you."

Marie's smile widened at Paige's words, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh, has she now?" she replied, her tone teasing.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Marie's playful response, shooting Paige an amused glance. "Only good things, I promise," you interjected, earning a laugh from your sister.

Her husband quickly joined the family in the living room, your nephew still holding onto him as he observed the scene in front of him. He gave Paige a quick smile and a nod. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Max,"

Paige returned the smile and nod, her warmth extending to your brother-in-law as well. "It's great to meet you too Max," she replied, her tone friendly.

As your nephew continued to observe the room with wide-eyed curiosity, Paige couldn't help but feel a surge of affection. "Is this Jordan?" she asked, her voice gentle as she directed her attention towards your nephew.

"Yeah, that's him," Max answered, his voice exhausted as you exchanged glances with your sister.

"He gave us a hard time getting here," she laughed as Jordan kept gazing at Paige. Jordan quickly ripped his gaze away, tightening his grip on her father as he looked away. "Aw, he's getting shy. He's probably just as starstruck as Dad,"

Everyone in the room began laughing as Paige shook her head in amusement, feeling a tiny bit cocky knowing that your entire family were practically her biggest fans.

"Dinner's just about to be ready, Marie honey, can you help me set up?" Your mother asked before she quickly shook her head. "Actually, Max, can you help me instead?"

You exchanged a confused look with Marie as she smirked, walking away toward your father as she begun talking with him. Max quickly handed Jordan off to you before he began following your mother toward the kitchen.

Paige's attention was quickly diverted to Jordan, who was slowly turning to look at her once again. Her heart swelled as she looked at the toddler, feeling a rush of affection for the little boy.

"He's so damn cute," she mumbled as she gazed down at him. You looked at your girlfriend, feeling a rush of affection for her as you watched her interact with Jordan.

"You like basketball?" She asks as you rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh. Of course that'd be the first question she asked.

Jordan began nodding slowly, a small smile on his face. "Yes,"

Paige's eyes lit up with excitement at Jordan's response, and she leaned in closer to him, her smile widening. "That's awesome!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You know, your aunt Y/N is actually dating a really, really cool basketball player."

"Oh shut up," you laughed as she kept looking at the boy, his smile turning into a grin.

"Auntie Y/N," he repeated with a grin as Paige nodded, a proud grin on her face.

"Yeah, that's right!" Paige affirmed with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced at you. "Auntie Y/N is dating a basketball player who's not as cool as you, of course,"

Jordan began laughing as he watched Paige, before he began squeezing his fists toward her. Paige chuckled at Jordan's playful gesture, delighted by his infectious laughter.

"He wants you to hold him, baby. Here, my arm's getting tired." You spoke softly as Paige's smile widened, quickly taking the toddler from your arms.

You watched as Paige continued to engage with Jordan, her warmth and kindness evident in every interaction. With gentle hands, she lifted him up, settling him comfortably in her arms as he giggled.

"There we go," Paige cooed softly, her voice filled with tenderness as she adjusted Jordan's position. "You're such a little sweetheart, aren't you?"

Jordan nodded enthusiastically, his laughter filling the room as he nestled into Paige's embrace. With a contented sigh, he rested his head against her shoulder, his small arms wrapping around her neck in a tight hug.

"Oh my gosh, he loves you so much already." Marie remarked softly as she watched, her expression slightly shocked as you smiled loving toward your girlfriend.

"She just has that effect on people," you said with a warm smile, your gaze filled with pride and affection as you watched Paige and Jordan. "He barely likes me, it's insane how he already loves you."

Marie nodded as she laughed. "Yeah, she's not exaggerating."

"Are we sure we're talking about the same kid?" Paige mumbled as Jordan kept gazing at her, tightening his grip on her with a contented sigh. Paige's heart swelled with affection at Jordan's gesture, and she returned his hug with gentle warmth.

Paige chuckled softly, her heart warmed by Jordan's affectionate embrace. "Looks like I've got a new best friend," she said with a smile, her voice filled with tenderness as she gently stroked Jordan's back.

Jordan nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with joy as he snuggled closer to Paige. "Best friend!" he exclaimed happily, his voice filled with excitement.

Paige laughed as she glanced at you, her gaze adoring as she pulled the toddler closer. Your heart swelled at the sight, feeling your love for Paige somehow triple at the mere sight of her with Jordan.

Paige's ability to connect with others, especially with children, never ceased to amaze you. It was one of the many things you admired about her ─ her kindness, her warmth, and her genuine love for people.

With a fond smile, you reached out to gently tousle Jordan's hair, earning a giggle from the delighted toddler. "Looks like you've got yourself a new best friend," you remarked, your voice filled with affection as you looked at Paige.

Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she nodded in agreement. "Yep, and I couldn't be happier about it," she replied, her voice soft and tender.

As the night came to a close, you and Paige had to say goodbye to your family and head home. Jordan, thankfully, was asleep by the time you'd left because if he wasn't, you're sure he would've rioted. With hugs and promises to see each other soon, you and Paige made your way back to her car, hand in hand.

She pulled you closer into her chest as she grinned, gazing down at you. "I don't think I've ever wanted a baby more, baby."

You glanced up at her with a small smile, feeling your cheeks flare up. "Me neither, I want a baby. Like, right now."

"I know," Paige mumbled as she unlocked the car. You leaned against the car as you pulled her closer, engulfing her lips in a sweet kiss. "I didn't think I'd be leaving your house with a baby fever, but here we are."

You laughed against her lips, the warmth of her laughter mingling with yours as you pulled back slightly, your foreheads touching. "Yeah, well, Jordan does have that effect on people," you joked, your heart filled with love for both Paige and the little boy who had captured her heart.

Paige chuckled softly, her arms wrapping around you as she leaned in to rest her forehead against yours. "I can't wait for the day when we have our own," she murmured, her voice filled with tenderness.

But before you could respond, you suddenly heard a loud toddler scream from inside your home. You and Paige exchanged glances before bursting out in laughter, knowing that Jordan's riot was indeed imminent.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to wait a bit longer for our own toddler," you joked with a chuckle, your heart filled with amusement. She nodded as she laughed, shaking her head as she reluctantly let go of your hand and got into the driver's seat.

With a shared laugh, you both made your way back to the car, the sound of Jordan's screams echoing in the background. As Paige settled into the driver's seat, you joined her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"You wanna go comfort your new best friend, baby?"

Paige sent you a playful glare as she turned on the car, shaking her head. "I'm good, maybe later."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[pinkberrytea]

He is the king, you are his crown; he is the tree, you are its blooms.

Requiem—A ceremony for the dead. The Vampire Ascendant once made her his bride; now he weds her before the gods. Eternal rest grant unto them, and let perpetual light shine upon them. Amen.

The pleasure of your company is requested at the marriage of Lord Astarion Ancunín to his darling consort, Lady Ancunín. Reception to follow.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 7k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this one was inspired by information released by Ed Greenwood about wedding rites in the Forgotten Realms. I thought the blood pact in particular would fit AA and consort perfectly! hopefully it is an enjoyable read. I’d like to thank @bardic-inspo and @starryjuicebox for their support and help with this piece. I appreciate you lovelies!

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; orgasm edging; overstimulation; fluff & smut; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; creampie; dry humping; frottage; multiple orgasms; possessive behavior; mirror sex; wedding night; piv sex

“Art desirous of union with the man who comes for thee?” 

As the Galerian priestess’ words reverberate around the otherwise solemnly quiet venue, you are escorted to the snow-covered aisle by your dapperly dressed handmaidens, clad in beautiful scarlet silks with gemstones sown on the sleeves, and all eyes present turn to gaze upon your quivering form—yet none are more piercing than the pair of crimson irises taking in your image from their place by the altar, ruby red flecks swimming in pools of blood whose glistening surface is now disturbed by the waves of emotion breaking on their sanguine shores. Astarion had not been prepared for this; for how his heart would beat faster, how his stomach would twist and turn at the sight of you in your wedding gown, holding the bouquet of dahlias and asphodels he’d endeavored to choose for you himself close to your chest, pale cheeks glowing a faint pink and snowflakes falling leisurely on the veil covering your hair. Suddenly, the shallow reasons for why he had even come up with the idea of hosting the ceremony are all but forgotten, and his frenzied thoughts reduced to a single word: perfect. You look perfect. A vision in white, a bloodied rose, his darling consort, his sinful bride.

His eternal lover.

The moment you start walking towards him, the attendees all rise from their seats and the processional begins, your timid gait almost in rhythm with each pluck of the harp’s strings. He looks hauntingly beautiful in his elegant white doublet, intrinsically embellished with golden and carmine embroidery, silver curls pristinely arranged and marble skin shining ethereally, reflecting the gentle light of the winter moon. The fresh wound on his hand stands in stark contrast against the otherwise smooth blancheness of his palm, blood trickling down onto the soft snow below, and the enticing scent of it wafts through the air almost like an invitation, a temptation too great for your starved self, as all the endless preparations have left you no time to quench the everlasting thirst he bequeathed to you. How long has it been since you last fed? Days? Weeks? Try as you might, you cannot remember. Yet it matters so little now, as he waits for you with almost jovial expectation, ready to once again seal your undying bond, renew the vows made on the fateful eve of your turning.

“Seven thousand souls have given me the power to carve out my own future, and I want you to be part of it.”

The more you approach him, the thicker the air around him becomes, the louder the buzzing in his ears sounds. Your lashes look so long, your rouged lips so full—and gods, how sweetly you gaze upon him, how bashfully, naught behind the bright gleam in your lachrymose eyes but pure, unconditional adoration. Through all the pain, all the hurt, your devotion to him never once faltered, and though the perpetual guilt haunts you both still, it is not in spite of your shared burden that you are brought closer together, but because of it. As you finally make your way to the altar and take your place by his side, time seems to come to a standstill, and in the minutes that follow, you can see nothing but his face, smell nothing but his blood, hear nothing but his heartbeat. No one else matters, nothing else matters—just you, him, and your immortal love.

“My sole endeavor now is to make this world yours and mine alone.”

The priestess takes your hand in hers, and using an ornamental dagger, cuts a gash across its surface, as she did with Astarion’s before your arrival—yet unlike his, the blood takes a while to bloom from the broken skin, so little of it remaining within your veins. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a yelp, her treatment of you clearly rougher than would be otherwise necessary; the eldest heiress of an influential patriar, her father had sponsored the construction of the first Galerian temple of Baldur’s Gate, a venture Astarion had enthusiastically supported to gain his favor, and with it, access to the growing following of the God of Ambition. A young acolyte at the time, her infatuation for your darling was undeniable—it was almost wicked then when he arranged for her to be the one to wed you, a political ploy to cement the bond between the two families. You knew his motives, and his cruelty brought you no joy, yet his darkness was something you had long decided to embrace rather than deny, the weight of your choices a penance you’d not ever dare renounce.

Once the deed is done, she lets go of you and backs away, a hint of contempt muddying her lowered gaze. Neither of you pay it heed—rather, you remain focused on each other, the guests but faceless figures looming in the background, blurred and meaningless. He holds his hand up, eyes locked with yours all the while, pupils blown out and raw emotion blazing like a firestorm in their depths. You do the same, your movements small and uncertain, yet as the tips of your fingers touch, he is the one to close the distance between your bloodstained palms, wound against wound, your crimson flowing into his and his flowing into yours. The connection assails you with almost overwhelming fierceness, your minds blended together and a thread of blood binding your souls to one another, as if you were but a single being. You can feel his heart pounding in your chest, his red coursing through your body, his thoughts seeping inside your head and reassuring you of that which needs not be professed; he loves you, oh, how dearly he loves you, like the moon loves the stars, like the dusk loves the dawn. Yours is the light keeping him from being consumed by the shadows, a flickering flame he is willing to protect, no matter the cost.

“I ask for thy hand as my equal, that our lives run as one, from this day forth,” he says, voice soft like velvet, laced with undeniable warmth despite its measured cadence. You may not truly be his equal, not really, but that is a fact you were always willing to accept. He is the king, you are his crown; he is the tree, you are its blooms. You could not hope to compare to his greatness, he could not hope to live up to yours—yet even if those around you may not understand, even if they may challenge it, your love is no less real, no less precious.

“I accept, before the gods, and before all these good people,” you answer, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the words slip from your trembling lips. His feelings become entangled with your own while the blood link lasts, and hidden beneath the yearning, beneath the sheer intensity of his longing for you, you sense anguish, you sense remorse. How many times have you danced to this same tune, played this same game? What a hopeless fool he is—manipulating your affections and toying with them, only to then realize the upper hand was hardly his, not in that pretty clearing during your first night together, not now, as you stand before him so beautifully, so earnestly, laying bare your heart and handing it to him on a silver platter. Your unwavering trust in him is something he was never quite able to come to terms with—why? Why is it that you want him, even after everything? Why give yourself to a selfish villain such as he while asking for nothing in return, nothing but for him to love you back? He knows not the answer to this, but still he would take it; your body, your mind, your soul, he would take it all and make them his, and his alone.

“I shall protect thee and succor thee, until my breath fails and the gods claim me, putting thy needs and comfort before mine own, and keeping no secret from thee, until the end of my days, or until the gods set us apart, though I hereby pray they shall never do so.” The gods have no say in this—you are forever his, and he is forever yours. Astarion is your god, and he shall be the one to claim you; such is the fate you have chosen for yourself. Once he finishes voicing the pledge, your hands come apart and the connection is severed, leaving you empty and vulnerable. Still, you carry on with the rites, bringing your bloodied fingers to his parted lips, and his to yours, staining them with your combined essence; while mimicking your movements, he purposefully refuses to pry his eyes from yours, looking upon you and through you, so fiercely yet so gently, so ardently yet so lovingly. You lose yourself in the urgency of his gaze, giving into its passionate allure, feeling your body lean forward almost as if you were but a flesh puppet, and him the performer pulling your strings.

“You’ve never tasted so sweet, darling.”

He lowers his head to meet you halfway, and the instant your mouth crashes into his, all your thoughts crumble down and dissolve into nothing. The coppery taste of your crimson mixed with his spreads through your tongue, reaching the back of your throat, and the pain of hunger tugs violently at your stomach; yet even in death, as he breathes into you, you feel alive, through him, for him, enraptured by the softness of his lips and the warmth of his skin, protected from the bloodlust, from its all-consuming fury. He cups your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls your face even closer to his, almost as if trying to assimilate you, become one with you, to which you respond just as desperately, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The tears that had been threatening to fall spill from your closed eyes, the surge of emotions bursting your frozen heart open; he dries them with his thumbs, delicately tucking the few hair strands that have slipped from underneath your headdress behind your ear. Blood is his ink, and with it, he shall again carve his name on your soul and claim that which belongs to him—requiem aeternam dona eis, so that tomorrow, you may rise anew.

“We have a beautiful, bloody future to look forward to, my love.”

It’s useless. No matter for how long or how hard you peer into the grand cheval mirror standing before you, it refuses to show you your reflection. Rather, all you see is an empty room, illuminated by naught but the moonshine creeping in from the open balcony, its velvet drapers swaying with the evening breeze. The snowfall has ceased, but the air remains mercilessly gelid; with your veins painfully wanting for blood to keep them warm, you wrap your arms around yourself, which unsurprisingly brings you no comfort. The guests are all gone, the ceremony is over—now you are left alone with the wandering voices echoing in the recesses of your mind, which grow ever so loud as the aftermath dawns upon you and dissipates the dreamy fog that had been cast over your still veiled head up until this very moment. 

Alone—yet not for long.

“Stunning.” You hear his voice before you see him approach you from behind, elegant fingers brushing against your bare shoulders and squeezing them gently, the soothing heat emanating from his hands sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. “You look stunning, darling,” Astarion whispers in your ear, his pretty lips grazing the ruby-carved earring hanging off it, which in turn dangles ever so softly, catching the moon beams on its shiny surface; breathing hot air onto your sensitive flesh, he then slides them down your neck and plants a loving kiss at its base, half-lidded eyes staring back at his own lonesome figure on the other side of the glass. 

“Do I?” you ask, the hint of disdain in your tone taking even you by surprise. He, however, seems unphased; on the contrary, his handsome face creases into a subtle, cheeky smile, and his hands glide down your arms to then join them around your waist, his chiseled chest pressed flat against your back. As if under a spell, you promptly let down your walls and lean into his embrace, closing your eyes and cocking your head to the side to grant him better access. His smile widens in response, and he kisses your neck again, letting his fangs ghost over the set of bite marks disrupting your otherwise immaculate skin for a moment before pulling back slightly and resting his chin on that same spot.

“Why, shall I be your mirror, my sweet?” Astarion purrs, the silky smoothness of his voice covering your now limp body in goosebumps; while it may sound like he is being unserious or trying to egg you on, there is sincerity underlying his offer, an honest wish to make good on it. “Would that please you? Knowing what the world sees when it looks at you.” He articulates each word with a guttural growl, scarlet irises darkening as his grip on you tightens, yet swirling in their murky depths, you glimpse ruddy hues of worship and desire, fondness and hunger. “What I see.” 

No sooner than the question leaves his lips, he spins you around and presses one of his hands to the small of your back, the other brushing your veil away from your face and caressing your cold cheek—once you lock eyes with him, his cheerfulness vanishes and he gazes upon your graceful figure in pensive silence, scanning every inch of your frame, from the opulent headpiece around your forehead to the sequined pumps hugging your tired feet. After what seems like an eternity, he brings his hand on your cheek down to clasp one of your own, fingers intertwined with yours; lifting it up gently, he then gives it a tender kiss, an impish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“May I have this dance, dearest?” As he waits for your answer, it occurs to you that the chance to waltz with him never really presented itself, politicians and underground overlords alike having kept him plenty busy throughout the night. You nod timidly, and immediately he takes the lead, stepping to the side and bringing you with him. You tumble awkwardly as if about to fall, but his palm splayed across your back holds you firmly, and instead you lean onto his torso, resting your head right above his heart. The instant you do, its loud pounding reverberates against your ear, lulling you, cradling you, and your tangled bodies sway gently to its soothing rhythm. In the mirror, the image reflected is that of a groom dancing with his ghost bride; no music, no ballroom, no elegant footwork, and yet the intensity of his lovestruck stare paints such a vivid picture that one might see shadows of your presence reflected in his eyes.

“Let’s see then—a slender neck, deliciously bare as if inviting me to feast on it, thanks to that lovely hairdo of yours,” Astarion suddenly says, voice quiet but hoarse, tinged with undeniable specks of lust. He guides your hand to his own waist and lets go of it, only to then slide his newly freed digits along the curve of your throat, carefully tracing the bite marks with their soft pads. “Though I must say, beautiful as your gown may be, I would very much like to undo that pesky knot keeping some of it concealed. May I, darling?” he asks, fingers quickly moving to the satin ribbon holding your bodice in place, wrapped fast around your neckline and flowing down your naked back. You nod again, cheek still pressed to his chest, and with a smug simper, he expertly unlaces it with unparalleled adroitness, letting the pure white fabric slip down your now completely nude bosom. You shudder and snuggle closer to him, in response to which he affectionately folds an arm over your shoulder and buries his fingers in your hair, partially unweaving the elaborate braids that had been tugging at your scalp all day, only those held by the crystal flower barrettes on your temples remaining. 

“Flawless, supple skin, which flushes so handsomely with my essence blooming under it,” he continues, digits sinking deeper into your ribs before he twirls you around, dipping forward as if going in for a kiss, though instead, he reaches for the hemline of your dress, hiking it up your long legs and in so doing, exposing the sinuous contours of your hips and thighs. Almost absentmindedly, the wandering fingers knead their way to the plushness of your round behind, still hidden beneath your underpants; giving it a firm squeeze, he then brings his other hand down from your head to unbutton the tulle corset attached to your petticoat, and just like that, the sumptuous wedding gown falls to your feet, leaving you covered in nothing but your veil and smallclothes.

“Bright crimson eyes that always stare so very coyly, so very docilely.” With a provocative growl, Astarion pulls you taut against him, and once your navel clashes with his crotch, the obvious erection forming under his pants becomes nested right between your bodies. Holding onto your waist with both of his hands, he then presses his mouth to an artery pulsating slightly above your collarbone, letting his warm tongue graze it teasingly as he speaks. “And oh, those precious little fangs, peeking from under lips most luscious… shall we put them to good use, pretty vampling?” he asks, pitch lowering dangerously, and his meaning is made instantly clear—positioned as he is, his own neck is conveniently exposed to you, too tantalizing an offer to ever be refused, so you accept it graciously, biting down on his ivory flesh just as he bites down on yours. The piercing pain of his teeth puncturing your skin is entirely numbed as the thick blood cascades down your throat, and you lose yourself in the bliss of life being returned to your undead veins, gripping both of his arms in an almost delirious haze; while drinking from each other, you rock back and forth, dancing still, a dark waltz under the fading stars.

“I can’t wait to taste your lips after you’ve tasted me.” 

Never unlatching from your bruising artery, Astarion wraps his arms around your rear and picks you up, taking you with him to the canopy bed on the other side of the room. Upon reaching it, he sits down on the edge of the mattress, you in his lap, knees bent on each side of him. He takes a few more swigs of your crimson before pulling away, though you remain feeding—while letting you drink, he carefully removes your headdress and veil, laying them aside to then cradle the back of your scalp with one of his hands and gently run his fingers down your spine with the other. You both moan and groan quietly in each other’s ears, and you can feel him leisurely grinding his hardness against your core; due to the friction, slick starts building between your now puffed-up folds, most of his red going straight to your aching sex rather than swimming around in your stomach. 

“That’s enough, pet,” he coos after some time, lightly tapping your shoulder, and you reluctantly obey, prying yourself off him with a needy whimper. He smirks and plants a kiss on your forehead, sliding his hands under your thighs to lift you up slightly and rotate your body so that your back is turned to his chest. Once your buttocks are pushed flush against the swell between his legs, you help him peel off your soaked underpants—pressing his knees to the back of yours, he then spreads you both wide, exposing your pretty cunt to the chilly winter air. You mewl pathetically, casting down your gaze in shame and hiding behind your palms; with an amused snicker, he grabs your wrists and lowers them, holding both together with one hand and using the other to grasp your chin. “Look, darling,” he whispers, tilting up your jaw and brushing his fangs against your earlobe, “see how exquisite you are.” 

Raising your head almost hesitantly, you do as told, and it takes you a moment to register what has now come into your field of vision: the mirror, albeit more distant, is angled perfectly to reflect your naked form, no longer a ghostly apparition, but flesh and bone, your image returned to you thanks to Astarion’s ascended essence sizzling within your veins. Still holding your wrists, he slides the hand on your chin down your neck, gliding it across the hollows of your sternum and then up the soft curve of your breasts, where he stops to pinch a pebbling nipple, earning a high-pitched yelp from you; looking straight into your eyes through the glass, he lovingly kisses the back of your shoulder and smiles against your skin, obviously pleased with himself. After playing with the puckered nub for a moment, his fingers continue descending, through your navel and crotch—finally reaching their intended destination, they circle the twitching bundle of nerves crowning your mound, and you arch your back in turn, shock waves shooting up your limbs.

“Asta—ah!” you moan, rolling your hips into his hand, but he immobilizes you by tensioning his arm muscles, without ever stopping stroking the engorged knot. You whine impatiently, the tautness in your lower belly growing more agonizing by the second; Astarion, however, is clearly in no rush, his movements mercilessly languid. Pressing down on your clit with a deft digit, he buries two others in the sticky warmth of your folds, parting them gently and hungrily gazing upon your wetness, or rather, its reflection—in the mirror, your slickened entrance glistens wantonly, a honied flower waiting to be pollinated, given a healthy flush by the heat of his crimson. One finger rims it tentatively, coating itself in your juices; with no prior warning, he then plunges it in you up to the knuckle, venturing within the tightness of your walls. You try to stifle a shriek, in vain—emboldened by this, he plunges another, watching mischievously as you writhe and squirm. 

“Oh, little love, I do quite like those pretty noises you’re making, I like them very much,” he says, kissing your shoulder again and curling his fingers inside your slit, which flutters desperately in its urge to be stuffed full. Overwhelmed by the lewdness of the scene unfolding before you, not quite used to witnessing yourself in such a vulnerable position, you try turning your head to the side, only for him to quickly let go of your wrists, capturing your face in his now freed hand and pulling it back into its previous position, intent on having you be his audience as he brings about your ruin. “Tut tut, cheeky pup.” Despite clicking his tongue, Astarion’s voice carries a playful lilt, accompanied by the roguish glint in his lust-ridden irises. Bucking his hips forward, he wedges his still clothed bulge deeper within the valley of your ass, and even through the fabric, you can feel it twitching and jerking. “You will be a good girl for me, won’t you?” 

You nod vigorously, hot tears of yearning prickling your eyelids and escaping through your long lashes. He dries them with his thumb, the smirk still gracing his lips, yet his gaze softens a little; moving his hand from your jaw to your chest, he then cups one of your breasts, squeezing and kneading it gently before resuming his attentions between your legs, now pumping his elegant digits in and out of your center. Feeling your body edging closer to the precipice of desire, you hold onto both of his arms, clenched abdomen covered in a glossy sheen of salty sweat and cheeks burning bright red—however, just as you are about to climax, he suddenly snatches you up and throws you on the bed, stradling you right after so that you become entrapped beneath him.

“Good girls must earn their spurs, darling,” he growls, grabbing both of your knees and pushing them apart, licking his lips at the sight of your cunt spasming madly in protest, hopelessly slickened and swollen. “So needy… have you no patience, my dear?” Smoldering you with a lascivious stare, he ignores your avid pleas and lowers his head, pressing his mouth to the plushness of one of your thighs. Ever so delicately, he kisses it and lingers for a short while, only to then unceremoniously sink his fangs into the squishy flesh, coaxing a soft cry out of you. Moving his hands to your hips, he holds you in place while voraciously sucking on the throbbing artery, some of the blood leaking and trickling down onto the silk sheets. Your arousal makes your crimson taste delectably sweet, an ambrosial aphrodisiac���with each gulp, his neglected cock jolts angrily, translucent drops of precome running down its length, so hard now that the pink tip peeks out from the hem of his pants.

“It will only hurt a bit—the pleasure will be far greater than the pain.”

“Hnng—Astarion, please…!” you beg, attempting to bring a hand to the tumid bud convulsing atop your dripping core, but Astarion seizes it with one of his own and pins it to the mattress while drinking still. Finally unlatching from your thigh, he laps at the red beads that remain oozing out of the small wounds inflicted on your skin by his teeth, following the trail down to your groin; once there, he lets his tongue wander and graze your folds, tauntingly flicking it as if by accident. You bury the fingers of your other hand in his silvery curls, half expecting him to stop you, but he doesn’t—instead, he brushes the wet appendage against your clit, swirling it around for a moment before making his way downwards, leaving a glistening string of his saliva mixed with your lifeblood in his wake. Upon arriving at your entrance, he traces its outer edges, savoring you with lengthy strokes to then delve inside at last.

“Oh, gods… hah…” No longer capable of keeping the breathy whimpers and erratic pants contained within the confines of your mouth, you throw your head back and let them fall freely from your parted lips, grabbing a fistful of his hair, though carefully so as not to pull at it. Pleased with your reaction, he rewards you by nuzzling his face against your mound, reaching as deeply within you as possible while massaging and tasting your tender walls, the bridge of his nose auspiciously pressed against the hood of your pearl. Heat starts again pooling in your stomach, your every nerve set ablaze, and it doesn’t take long before the tension snaps and you finally come undone on his tongue, creaming and clenching around it. He enthusiastically partakes of your tangy nectar, eating you up still even as you bask in the afterglow, only stopping once you let go of him. With one last lick, he propels his torso back up, drool dribbling down his chin. 

“Ah, but that won’t do,” Astarion says, releasing your wrist to wipe his lips, their corners still quirked upwards into a haughty, devilish smile. “No, my sweet… I’m not nearly done with you yet.” Lowering both hands to his pants, he swiftly drags them down, freeing his erection and wrapping his fingers around its base. Your eyes are irresistibly drawn to it, and from under heavy lids you gape at the bulging veins and enlarged crown, his foreskin tautly pulled back to reveal the weeping slit. Leaning on one of your knees and slipping his free hand under the other to keep you spread open, he then guides the swollen cockhead to your fluttering folds, dipping it between them and glazing himself in your essence. With a quiet whine, you wiggle your hips, your sex still sensitive as you recover from your orgasm, but instead of backing out, he doubles down and presses the velvety tip harder against your raw knot, chuckling as your protests grow in volume and you try to slither away from him, straining your thigh muscles in an unsuccessful effort to close your legs.

“Gods, you are too cute.” Staring smugly at your flailing body while rubbing himself up and down your wetness, Astarion fastens his grip on your calf using just about enough force not to hurt you, but simply restrain your movements. “Where’s my good girl? Again. I know you can come again,” he purrs, voice deceptively gentle, although the warmth in his eyes is genuine. You shake your head, unable to muster up an intelligible sentence, your mind wiped clean of coherent thought; bending down to brush his lips against your temple, he kisses away the tears beading your lashes, affectionately pressing his forehead to yours. “You can do it. Come, my love. For me.” The whisper caresses your ears with such tenderness that as if by magic, you feel yourself relax, the pain slowly giving way to rekindled arousal. You try your best to focus on the budding sensation, reveling in the smoothness of his cockhead as it grinds against your sore clit, indulging in the intimacy of having your center of pleasure almost merged with his. Gradually, the waves of lust and hunger rippling through you gain momentum, spreading from your gut to your extremities, every inch of your skin tingling and prickling with primal yearning—taking notice of your rapid ascent to rapture, he hastily aligns his cock with your entrance, stretching its tight borders open, though not yet shafting himself inside. 

“That’s it, my darling little bride. Come for your sire.” You can barely hear his words as white noise overtakes all your senses, the world around you reduced to a blurry, chaotic maelstrom. The moment he finally slides his length between your walls, filling you to the brim in a single thrust, your toes curl and your hands ball into fists, your body going limp as you are at last pushed over the edge of ecstasy. Letting go of your knee to take off his doublet, he carelessly tosses it on the floor to then gently cradle both of your cheeks, pulling you into a sensual, passionate kiss. Muffled groans form in the back of his throat with every twitch of his cock, which pulsates longingly as you vibrate and flutter around it; he nips at your bottom lip as if asking for passage, sucking on the bloody droplets drawn from the nicked flesh, and once you comply, without delay his tongue starts massaging your own, eagerly rolling over it while he patiently waits for you to adjust to his size. Wrapping both of your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you roll your hips upwards, wanting to feel all of him, each bead of sweat, each drop of blood, until it’s impossible to tell where you end and he begins.

“Mhnf—Astarion…” you mewl into his mouth, encouraging him to start moving, his rhythm slow and gentle at first. Despite how wet you are, he works your slit open with a bit of difficulty, his girth abnormally enlarged due to the drawn-out neglect, although even through the discomfort you find yourself relishing the chance to have him so snugly nested within you. Astarion, too, seems to be thoroughly enjoying having you gripping him so deliciously tautly, his usually husky grunts growing louder with every push. His hands leave your face to roam the sides of your body, gliding down your ribs, tracing the curve of your waist and slipping underneath you to grope and fondle your ass, slightly tilting you upwards so he can sink deeper within your cunt. Finally breaking the kiss, lips bruised and plumped, he lovingly gazes upon your just as disheveled self for a moment before leaning back down to give you a chaste, tender peck, only to pull away again, lowering his head to have his tongue ghost over the skin of your throat, your clavicle, and then up the swell of one of your breasts, stopping to hover above its reddened peak.

“Say it, pet. Tell me who you belong to.” His breath tickles the sensitive nub as he speaks, voice dripping with honey and eyes searching for yours from under thick lashes, darkened with desire. To anyone else the question may sound like just another racy quip, provocative banter to spice up the mood, but you know better—you know him better. Following the Black Mass, on that very eve Astarion would first test his unholy gifts as the Ascendant, not by calling upon the dark forces now at his mercy nor by turning into mist, but by making you his for all eternity. That was always the plan—to become your warden, your guardian, your sire and master. Never before you had he ever felt as wanted, as needed, and he cherished that power; for once in his life he was the protector, not the protectee, not the weak vermin wriggling about to find shelter. You gave him a reason to be, a reason to live, and he would not lose that, not for as long as his thawed heart beats.

“I’m yours, Astarion. All yours,” you say, giving him the reassurance he seeks while at the same time soothing yourself. Yes, you are his, entirely his, and that is of solace to you as much as it is to him. Satisfied with your answer, Astarion smiles softly; refusing to avert his gaze from your face, he then wraps his perfectly-shaped lips around your nipple, circling it with a pointed tongue. His teeth graze the supple surrounding flesh for a moment before unexpectedly sinking into it, and your mouth pops open to let out a soundless gasp in surprise. You propel your torso up slightly by resting your arms on each side of your body and leaning on your bent elbows, firmly gripping the sheets beneath you with both of your hands, panting and whining as he suddenly speeds up the pace, undulating his hips more energetically with every thrust. Through his cock and fangs alike, his presence inside of you is absolute, imperious, overwhelming—yet also comforting and fulfilling, like a crushing, constricting embrace.

“You complete me.” 

“Mnhg—ah!” While still latched onto your breast, avidly drinking from it, Astarion moves one hand to your lower back so he may gently raise you with him into a seated position, and you let go of the sheets to hold onto his broad shoulders for support. His other hand continues fondling your ass, fingers widely splayed across one of your cheeks, applying just enough pressure to push your crotch flat against his, securely settling you in his lap as you had been before, except you are now both facing each other. Prying himself off you, he then pulls back to admire his handiwork—the blood seeping from the freshly made puncture marks on your chest trails lazily down your abdomen, the bright crimson accentuated so beautifully by your pale skin, a perfect match with the rubies encrusted in the jewelry that you remain wearing despite being otherwise completely nude. You make for a breathtaking vision, one belonging perpetually and irrevocably to him.

“My darling,” Astarion croons, voice uncharacteristically tender, bringing his hand on your back up to lovingly cup your chin. “My pretty darling,” he whispers before capturing your lips with his bloodstained ones, hips snapping upwards to resume massaging your walls. You bob your body in rhythm with his thrusts, buttocks slapping against his thighs every time you sink down to the base of his length, and his fingers dig deeper into the soft swell of your rear, surely to leave bruises in the morning. Eyes fluttering close, you lean fully against him, the contours of your frame hugging his own almost perfectly, save for your breasts, which are now squished between your rib cage and his pectorals. Releasing your face, he instead grabs your throat, his grip strong, but not binding; giving it a gentle squeeze, he then pulls away, tongue absentmindedly lapping at the strand of saliva connecting you still even as your mouths unweave.

“Astarion…” The way you utter his name sounds almost like a plea, a supplication, yet you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. “I love you”—is what you mean to say, but you bite back the words instead. They are empty, meaningless; the depth of your bond is such that “love” is a sentiment which needs not be voiced. You know he can feel it, for you can feel it too—way past just affection, the pure devotion carved on the core of your very being, so raw and so visceral that it may as well be an open wound, never to heal, bleeding thick, warm emotion. As tempting as it may be to proclaim it, the world is not owed any measure of access to your relationship; this is something meant just for the two of you, a silent understanding between an eternal bride and her husband-to-be, sacred and precious. Thus, rather than speaking any further, you look into his eyes with as much earnestness as you can possibly manage, and he looks back at you just as intensely, pupils so dilated that his irises are but thin red discs, barely even visible. He knows; of course he does. He always did.

“Shh. Hush.” He lets go of your throat before softly pressing a finger to your lips, only to then comb all five digits of that same hand through your hair and cradle your head, gently nudging you forward. Following his lead, you rest your chin in the crook of his neck, flushed cheek brushing against his; upon raising your gaze, you notice that you can see the mirror behind him, reflecting his strong back and shapely waist, still encircled by your entangled legs. More than that, you can see him moving—his hips going up and down every time he disappears inside you, balls swinging whenever he lifts up his ass from the mattress. Watching him fuck you might as well be the most erotic thing you have ever laid eyes on, and for a third time arousal coils low in your belly. 

“Oh… Astarion…” you whimper in his ear, feeling him bump against the spongy skin of your cervix just as his cock is fully swallowed by your needy cunt in the mirror. Your blunt nails rake down his spine, gliding across the valleys and ridges of his scars, once a reason for shame and pain, now a proud symbol of his victory—and of the ghastly consequences it entailed. The fingers buried in your hair pull at it firmly as he pounds into you, and those on your rear continue their ministrations, wandering to the space between your buttocks to lightly graze the puckered entrance. As he peppers kisses over your nape and shoulders, his own moans grow more desperate and less dignified; sweat drips down his curls, now tousled and sticking to his forehead and temples. You feel so tight, so wet, so warm, so good—always such an obedient little thing, so eager to please, letting yourself be thoroughly ravaged and catering to his every whim, his every desire. There is nothing Astarion values more than his dominance over you; his most beloved treasure, the source of his life, the source of his light, however dim. How terribly he adores you, and how frightfully he yearns for you, to be drunk on you, an addiction so great that the very thought of you leaving his side for even a minute fills him with pure dread. To love you is bliss, but also torturous, for you are at once his greatest strength and his most alarming weakness.

“That’s it, gods, that’s it… you’re taking me so well, darling,” he groans, breath hitching as you push against his thrusts, the lewd sound of smacking flesh reverberating across the room. He is close, so close, and so are you—beyond the glass, his reflection plunges into yours with reckless abandon, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. As you ride him, you can feel the entirety of his length, the velvety skin, the throbbing veins, the tumid girth stretching and rubbing against your slickened walls; and with one last powerful jerk of his hips, you can also feel his thick spend painting them in spurts, flooding you like a broken dam. 

“Oh, my love…” Astarion continues rutting into you even through his orgasm, pumping his seed out of your slit. Before long, you too clench violently around him, thighs trembling and gut convulsing, coating his twitching cock in your release. Shoving you back onto the mattress, he keeps leisurely sliding in and out of your sex as you both pant quietly, reveling in the high of your respective climaxes; with his face nuzzled into your cleavage, he affectionately laps at the bite marks on your breast, occasionally intercalating each lick with tender little pecks. You bring one of your hands to his scalp and run your fingers through the silky locks, closing your eyes and emptying your mind, intent on enjoying the moment for what it is, safe and sound in the arms of your lover; he who took you into his sanguineous embrace and imparted on you the gift of absolution, he who set the world on fire while shielding you from the dancing flames, he who placed a crown of roses upon your head after ripping off every thorn. Lux aeterna luceat eis—let perpetual light shine, and from the dark, the two shall reign, betrothed in immortality, wedded in undeath, now and forevermore.

May they rest in peace.

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part One

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Lucifer x daughter! reader x Lilith

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: Forced child abandonment

Notes: This is my first Hazbin mini fic. This will be a mini series, so there will be a part two but it may take a little while as I tend to get busy with work and school - so please, bare with me.

Words: 880

"No! No! Please!"

It's no surprise Lucifer and Lilith fooled around a bit during their days in the Garden of Eden.

What was surprising was the moment Lilith discovered she was pregnant.

Despite the shock and slight fear of being new parents, Lucifer and Lilith were overjoyed at the news.

When they found out the baby was going to be a girl, the two cried in pure happiness.

Lucifer became adamant, and a little overbearing, about doing everything for Lilith not wanting her to overwork herself or the baby. This did annoy Lilith (being the independent woman she was), but she knew he just wanted to make sure she and the baby were safe.

When Lilith went into labor, Lucifer went into full panic mode (imagine that one scene from The Office)

Lucifer: *freaking out* "OMG! IT'S HAPPENING! DON'T PANIC, HONEY!

Lilith: *calmly packing the hospital bags*

Lucifer may have passed out during the delivery when his curiosity got the best of him and decided to see what was going on down there (I imagine seraphim's or angels born in Heaven aren't born the natural way and instead created through magic).

Lucifer woke up from the sounds of crying and when he came to he saw a tiny body being carried by one of the nurses.

After rejoining Lilith's side (and making sure she was okay while profusely apologizing for passing out) they waited for the nurses to clean up the baby.

The moment the two saw one of the nurses bring over a pink bundle, their hearts filled with unbridled love and joy.

She was so small and had tuffs of blonde hair. She had Lucifer's red cheek circle's and Lilith's eyes.

Lucifer's eyes welled up with tears as he lovingly gazed down at the tiny person in his lover's arms. "She's perfect, Lily".

Lilith agreed with happy tears as she laid a gentle kiss on their daughter's head.

The two named her (Y/N) - (Y/N) Morningstar.

(Y/N) was a lively baby who adopted her father's bubbly and curious personality, as well as his love for ducks.

Her first toy was a duck plushie Lucifer had made himself.

However, despite having everything they could want in the Garden, Heaven, and now their new baby - they wanted something more.

They wanted to share free will with humanity in hopes that Heaven would finally see Lucifer's ideas and change their suffocating rules so (Y/N) could live in a world that wouldn't stifle any of her future dreams.

This lead them to tempt Eve with the apple, causing the unfortunate chain of events that lead to Lucifer and Lilith's trial.

The two were found guilty of bringing evil into humanity and as punishment they would be sent down into Hell.

However, before they sent the family into eternal damnation Heaven decided (Y/N) was innocent as she was only a baby who knew not what her parents had done.

Being a child of a seraphim and one of humanities first human's, they saw potential in her for Heaven's future - so they decided (Y/N) would stay in Heaven while Lucifer and Lilith would go down to Hell.

"Take the child," Sera ordered one of the court angels. "No! No! Please!" Lucifer and Lilith begged with tears falling down their faces as they held (Y/N) closer to them. The court angels forced the wailing (Y/N) out of her crying parents arms.

That was the last time Lucifer and Lilith saw their daugther before being banished to Hell for all eternity.

To keep (Y/N) from discovering her true lineage, Heaven decided that Lucifer's twin brother, Michael, would claim to be her father and raise her as a role model seraphim - one that follows Heaven's rules.

As (Y/N) grew up it became increasingly obvious how much she took after her parents. She had Lucifer's curious and cheerful nature, and Lilith's eyes, long blonde hair, and grace - both her parents beauty present in her features. The perfect combination of the two.

She especially adopted Lucifer's six large wings, only they had a pink under surface and gold tips.

To bypass any questions of her mother, Michael told her that he had created her from stardust with both his and Lilith's likeness - only using Lilith as a reference for a female.

Michael made sure her curious nature didn't go as far as Lucifer's, keeping her busy with her education and where he can keep an eye on her.

To keep her in check he told her about Lucifer and Lilith, but that they were her uncle and aunt who had lost their way and fallen from grace.

When she entered into adulthood, Heaven decided it was time for her to bear more serious responsibilities.

That's how (Y/N) Morningstar Demiurgos became one of Heaven's trial record keepers/recorders (she sometimes sits in trials and writes what's being said for the records).

It was mainly because Michael wanted to her to have a busy office job and away from exploring and getting too curious (he hoped being in trials would satisfy her curiosity, but made sure to keep her from asking too many questions).

And for awhile everything was perfect and in Heaven's favor. . .

. . .Until a certain Princess of Hell came to Heaven with a dream.

[sissyisawitch]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: After leaving everything behind and starting a new life almost three years ago, MC returns to Hogsmeade for Christmas Eve. Little does she know that her brief return will be enough for her past to catch up with her…

Word Count: ~9.4k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol in the beginning? Otherwise it's just pure pining and fluff

Author's Note: Special one shot because I just love Christmas. It should've been even longer, but I had to shorten it, or I'd never have managed to post it in time for Christmas. Anyway, I had a blast writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did!

I wish you all a wonderful Christmas!🎅🎄 Lots of love💕

“Oh, MC, I can’t get over how much we’ve missed of each other’s life. You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you!”

MC and Poppy sat in a cozy corner of the Three Broomsticks, whose dim lighting and soft hum of conversation provided a comfortable backdrop for their reunion. Excitement and laughter had been echoing for the past hours, as the two best friends shared their numerous respective adventures, and reminisced about the wonderful times they shared while at Hogwarts.

“Life sadly took us on separate journeys after graduation, there was no other way… But I'm so grateful that we haven't lost touch.” MC said as she took a sip of her third Butterbeer of the afternoon. She had never realised how much she had missed the sugary drink, especially after being away from Hogsmeade for so long. It tasted of the good old days when she spent the entire day shopping with her schoolmates, before going for a collation to relax and forget about the homework they had to do.

After Hogwarts, Poppy became a renowned Magizoologist, following in her grandmother's footsteps, like she had always dreamt of doing. As for MC, she had taken a very different path. Barely a few weeks after graduating, the girl had decided to leave everything behind and embark on a life full of travel and adventure. She never stayed in one location for very long. Her aim was to discover as many places as she could.

Now, the only thing left of her former life was her best friend Poppy, and the letters they regularly exchanged. It was for her that MC had exceptionally returned to Hogsmeade, to see her on this Christmas Eve.

“Merlin… I didn’t realise it was so late already.” MC sighed as she looked out the window. The evening sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow through the pub windows.

Poppy grimaced in response, as if a bittersweet realisation came to her, “Time flies when you’re having fun. I wish I could stay longer... but Gran hasn't been well lately, and I've already left her on her own all afternoon...”

“Don't worry, Poppy. I totally understand.”

“I'd love to offer you a place to stay, especially since it’s Christmas Eve… but as I said, it's complicated at the moment.”

MC offered the girl another genuine and reassuring smile, “It’s okay, I don't mind. I've managed to find a room in an inn for a couple of days.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Poppy smiled back, although ruefully.

After paying for their drinks, the two girls made their way out. They stood on the porch on the Three Broomstick in contemplative silence, the air thick with unspoken emotions. The time had come to bid farewell once again.

Poppy took a deep breath, as if to get rid of the lump in her throat, before breaking the silence, "MC, it's been wonderful catching up with you. I wish we could freeze time and stay like this forever."

A wistful smile played on MC's lips. "Life moves on, though. We have our own journeys to continue."

Poppy hesitated before uttering her newt words, “…Don't let it be another three years before our next reunion."

“It won’t. I promise.” MC replied weakly, having to bite the inside of her cheek to hold back her tears. She had never been very good at goodbyes.

Maybe that was why she had never said one to Sebastian.

With a lingering hug, they exchanged a few more words, promises to stay in touch, and expressions of hope for the future. It was nightfall when Poppy finally disapparated, leaving MC alone on the village streets, which were neither crowded nor deserted. Most of the people still outside were on their way home, or off to enjoy a late drink with their friends.

MC walked for a while, before stopping at a vantage point overlooking the quaint village which was bathed in the soft glow of Christmas lights that shimmered like a galaxy full of stars. Tremendous decorated Christmas trees could be found on every street corner, perfectly matching the garlands of fir branches that linked the roofs of the various cottages. It was even possible to find some snowmen that were bewitched to fill the air with the enchanting melodies of Christmas carols. The whole scene resembled a holiday postcard brought to life, especially with the thick blanket of snow covering the village.

It was magical. Literally.

As MC gazed at the picturesque view, memories started flooding her mind. The charming village setting reminded her of the spirited Christmases she used to share with Sebastian, spending the best part of their day at Zonko's trying to find a way to prank Ominis, before heading off to Honeydukes to buy Chocolate Frogs, just in case the blond ended up sulking for too long. The inseparable duo then made it back to the Great Hall just in time for the big Christmas feast, where they joined Ominis. The smell of roasted turkey, and the sound of familiar laughter echoed in MC’s thoughts.

After dinner, the group of friends used to return to their common room and sit down by the fire. She could almost hear the crackling of the fireplace, and feel the camaraderie that accompanied their joyful exchange of gifts. After that, Ominis fell asleep very quickly, and MC and Sebastian usually took the opportunity to get a little closer. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the sensation of his shoulder used as a pillow against her cheek, while his woody cologne invaded her nostrils.

MC could never escape these kinds of memories, especially when she was in Hogsmeade.

Everything always led back to Sebastian in Hogsmeade.

That was why she had refused to set foot there for so long.

To forget the insurmountable heartbreak of never having her feelings returned by the love of her life, MC had decided to start a new life. She had wanted to move on, to forget her feelings for Sebastian, but she had known that this would prove to be impossible with him in her life. She had therefore decided to make a clean break – because she knew that bidding Sebastian farewell was not a skill she possessed – and to disappear brutally. To make her plan even more effective, she had also cut ties with Ominis, seeing as he was Sebastian’s best friend, and MC had felt awkward to put him in the middle of her drama. The only thing MC had kept from her old life was Poppy... now her one and only friend.

MC had then spent years travelling around the world, searching for a place where she would feel comfortable enough, and that she would love enough to want to settle there for the rest of her life. The goal to her quest was to find a place that felt like home.

After almost three years, she still had not found her home.

“Ow!” MC suddenly exclaimed. Someone forcefully colliding against her back disrupted her reverie.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I didn’t see you.”

MC turned at the sound of a deep masculine voice. Indeed, the man could not possibly have seen her, for he was carrying a large pile of children's toys in his arms, up to his eye level, thus blocking his field of vision.

The man shifted the pile of toys into one of his arms instead of both, moving them away from his face to take a look at the unlucky person he had just unintentionally bumped into.

Next thing MC knew, before she could even realise it, MC found herself face to face with none other than Sebastian.

His chocolate eyes widened in recognition as they locked onto hers. An amalgam of shock and bewilderment flashing across his face, washing away his previous apologetic look. He was so flabbergasted that he forgot about the packages in his hands, which began to wobble. MC rushed closer to him, to put the parcels back upright, and prevent them from shattering on the floor.

“…MC?” He asked hesitantly, never tearing his gaze away from her, just to make sure he was not dreaming, that his former best friend was well and truly standing in front of him.

“Hi.” She smiled softly at him. She could not believe that she had not recognised what had once been the only voice capable of soothing her even on her worst days. To be fair, it had changed remarkably. It was more intense, manly... even sexy.

“You’re back?” He questioned eagerly, a beaming grin breaking through the initial stupor.

MC nodded in response. She could not bring herself to tell him that it was only temporary, or even worse to admit to him that she had not come back for him, that she had never had a single intention of ever seeing him again. She could not be the one to wipe that gorgeous smile from his tantalising lips. It would break her own heart all over again.

As she kept staring into those familiar eyes, a rush of emotions overwhelmed MC. The old crush she had once harboured seemed to reignite with an unexpected intensity. It was unbelievably insane that just one glance at him was all it took to make her flamboyant feelings for him resurface. She thought she had managed to eradicate them, but she had actually only been able to bury them deep inside.

However, with that also came the horrid realisation that Sebastian was carrying a large number of toys in his arms. As MC looked once again at the eye-catching bundles in his arms, reality struck her like a cold breeze.

There, nestled in his grasp, was the object of the rude shock that life had evolved without her, in ways she never could have foreseen. Obviously, these toys were for his children, meaning that Sebastian was also married and had a loving wife waiting at home for him.

MC, still quite in denial, racked her brains to find another rational explication, but there was none. There was no other option because Ominis always said he never wanted kids in order not to pass on his ‘cursed Gaunt genes’. As for Anne… well last time MC had heard of Anne was the day Solomon Sallow died. After that, she had severed all contact with everyone except Ominis, who had promised her not to divulge any information about her whereabouts.

MC’s heart sank as her mind kept repeating itself that Sebastian had moved on, embracing a world that now included the joy and responsibility of raising a family.

“Merlin, MC! I thought I’d never see you again! You’ve missed so many things, there’s so much I need to tell you! Do you live here now?” If Sebastian had ever held a grudge against MC for disappearing without warning, no trace of it was visible. His excitement was taking over completely.

“I have a room at the Hog’s Head.”

“What? The Hog’s Head?” He exclaimed in horror – rather dramatically if you asked MC – “You can't possibly stay in this dodgy shithouse!”

MC was surprised by his crude words. She was used to his outspokenness, but she had not expected to hear it again so soon after such a long time. She could only shrug sheepishly, “I don't really have much choice... Sirona didn't have any more rooms available for me. Everything was booked up… you know… with the holidays.”

“Ah... Well, I can't exactly let a lovely lady like you sleep there. I've got room at home, you can come if you like.” Sebastian puffed out his chest, putting on his false air of chivalry.

MC tried her best to conceal the blush creeping up her cheeks, but alas, she could do nothing about her nervous stammering, “Oh… Oh, I… I don’t wanna bother you. Besides, the Hog’s Head’s not that bad…”

“Don't say no. Please. Really, I insist. We could spend the evening drinking and catching up… What d’you say?” Sebastian gave her the sad puppy eyes, and MC could feel all her resolve slipping away at the same second.

Thinking about it twice, the Hog's Head was truly, absolutely dreadful. The few times MC had been there, she had been catcalled far too many times for her liking.

So yes, she knew that staying with Sebastian, his wife and their children was going to be pure torture, but MC still preferred that to the risk of being mugged or assaulted by one of the Hog's Head patrons.

“Okay.” She ended up saying, forcing a smile that masked her internal turmoil.

“Brilliant!” Sebastian looked so excited that it would not have surprised MC if he had started jumping up and down. “Have you got any luggage you need to pick up in your room before going to my place?”

“No, I've just got this." MC replied, pointing to her small rectangular shoulder bag, barely large enough to hold a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “I travel light.”

“Perfect! Well then, if you will follow me, my lady.” He offered her his arm with a wink, and after a brief moment of surprise, she accepted it.

Sebastian made it so effortless to fall back into their old dynamic, that it made it just as natural and easy for MC to do the same. It was like they had never been apart.

They walked together, sticking close to each other, in the same way they used to do when they were still teenagers. As they strolled through the streets of Hogsmeade, MC assumed Sebastian was taking her to a Floo Flame. The girl was therefore genuinely caught off-guard when he stopped in front of her. a small house typical of the village – made of stone with an excessively pointed roof – and took out a key to open the front door.

“Ladies first.” Sebastian's face lit up with pride and joy, while he let MC in first, still the perfect gentleman as usual. Even married, he could not help being flirty.

Before entering, MC took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves, in anticipation of meeting the woman who had succeeded where she had failed, the woman who was better enough than her in Sebastian's eyes to have succeeded in stealing his golden heart.

However, instead of coming face to face with her nemesis, MC found herself immersed in an intimate reflection of Sebastian's essence, overwhelmed by how homey it felt. The house was truly cosy, but a little small for a family in MC's opinion. But then again, it had to be remembered that Sebastian was used to small spaces, having lived in his little one-room cottage in Feldcroft for most of his life.

The living room had the charm of disarray, with stacks of well-read books scattered on the coffee table next to empty mugs, suggesting that Sebastian had not lost his messy habits. The smell of the fireplace and coffee intermingled, creating a comforting atmosphere that reflected precisely the way Sebastian always managed to put MC at ease.

MC guessed that the upstairs, which was in fact a mezzanine, must be the bedroom. She did not dare go upstairs to respect his privacy, but from the ground floor, she could see the top of bookshelves reaching up to the pointed roof, proof that Sebastian was still as thirsty for knowledge as ever.

All these little details showed MC that, although his life had evolved, the man standing a few steps away from her was still her beloved Sebastian.

Sebastian, observing MC's reactions, could not suppress a grin, "It's not much, but it's home. You can have the bedroom, and I'll sleep on the couch.”

On further inspection of the house, MC came upon the kitchen, which was open to the living room. She could not help noticing that the worktops bore the marks of failed culinary experiments. Some pans with burnt bottoms were abandoned on the counter, and dirty cutlery had accumulated in the sink. In short, the kitchen was a mess, just as Sebastian could be in other people's lives.

However, what stood out most to MC was the absence of signs of shared living. There were no visible traces of another person – no stray belongings, no indications of a partner or children. It was as if the whole house resonated with Sebastian alone, as if his whole person had become woven into the fabric of his environment.

As MC continued to stare in silence at his topsy-turvy house, Sebastian scratched the back of his neck nervously, “Don't pay attention to the shambles, please. I didn't clean up... since I wasn't exactly expecting any guests.”

Instead of reassuring him as she would have liked, MC's curiosity was quicker to take over her next words, “Where’s your wife?”

“My wife?” Sebastian frowned.

“Yes. The woman you married.” She added bitterly. Her curiosity slowly lowered its mask to reveal its true self of authentic jealousy.

He looked away, but MC could still see that he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face, “I’m flattered you think I’m charming enough to get a wife, but I’m afraid there’s still no Mrs. Sallow. Besides Anne, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Sebastian chuckled at her enigmatic reaction.

“I thought the toys were for your kids…” She admitted shyly, pretty embarrassed after making so many wrong assumptions about him.

“My kids? Bloody hell, MC, you sure have high expectations for me!” Sebastian exclaimed, clearly amused by the situation. “But no, I don't have kids. The toys are for my niece.”

MC was gob smacked, eyes wide and mouth agape, “Your… niece? You have a niece? Anne had a child? Wait, did she get married? With who?”

“That’s a lot of questions.” He smirked playfully at her, while looking for a bottle in one of his cabinets. “But I think you can guess the answer to the last one.”

MC looked down at her feet, taking a moment to think, when realisation hit her like a bolt of lightning. She turned her head back to Sebastian so fast it almost gave her whiplash, “Ominis?”

“Bingo.” Sebastian replied casually, uncorking a bottle of Firewhiskey. “And he took Anne's name. He's Mr. Sallow now.”

“No way!” She gasped, letting herself fall limply onto the sofa out of utter stupefaction.

“Yes way.” He laughed wholeheartedly, sitting down next to her and pouring two glasses of alcohol for each of them.

"How? When?"

"Apparently, after fifth year, they did more than just keep in touch."

MC took her glass in hand, but did not drink from it. She had far too many questions on her mind to take the time to have a sip, "But how did they deal with Anne's curse?"

"It disappeared once you killed Rookwood, since he was the one who cursed her. Apparently, magic disappears with the caster. I learnt all this a few months after graduation, when Anne got back in touch to invite me to their wedding…”

Sebastian suddenly paused in his explanations to down his glass of Firewhiskey in one gulp.

“She wanted to invite you too… I had to explain to her that you'd disappeared without warning." He continued, looking pained, and MC suspected it was not just because of the bitterness of the alcohol.

"I'm sorry." MC winced at her own words. She was pathetic to listen to, using the most clichéd and basic phrase. But it was all she could muster to respond, because it was exactly how she felt. She was profoundly sorry. Sorry to the people she cherished the most, for abandoning them without looking back. But also sorry for herself, because she now had to accept the bitter realisation that she had been absent for so many crucial milestones of their lives.

Sebastian only shook his head, avoiding her gaze and preferring to stare at his empty glass, "Why did you do that? Why didn't you say anything? I was worried sick ‘cause I thought something bad had happened to you, that some Ashwinders were still out there, and had kidnapped you. I spent months looking for you... I'd even asked the Aurors to search for you.”

MC sipped her drink slowly, using the alcohol as a distraction from the painfully heartbreaking explanations of the man sitting next to her

“…They eventually found you overseas. In perfect health... and in perfect company so I've heard. That's when I realised that you hadn't been taken away, but had gone away of your own free will.” Sebastian poured himself another glass before throwing it back again.

“I'm so sorry.”

He scoffed bitterly, “I don't want to hear that you're sorry. It's no use. I just want to know what you were thinking when you left.”

This time, it was MC's turn to down her glass before pouring her heart out in the most honest way possible, "I just needed to get away from everything, from the past. I just wanted to start again."

Against all odds, he nodded understandingly, "Wish I could stay mad at you for it... but I won’t say that I don’t understand."

What he did next surprised MC in the most pleasant way. Sebastian reached out towards her, placing his large hand on top of hers, which was resting on the brown leather of the sofa. Even if his hand was calloused and weathered by time and experience, MC was amazed by how perfectly it fit around her own.

"What matters is that you're here now." He offered her a tender smile that warmed her heart in the most appeasing way. Only he could do that to her.

"I am." MC smiled in return, even more brightly. It was contagious. She turned her hand over and intertwined their fingers together.

As their conversation died down, MC could not help but steal a moment to observe the transformation in Sebastian’s appearance. The once-adorable teenage boy she remembered had blossomed into a handsome man. His features, chiselled by the passage of time, sculpted a strong jawline that added a touch of rugged refinement to his countenance. The shadow of a beard adorned his face, giving him a distinguished and slightly mysterious air. Sebastian's tousled hair fell with a casual elegance, framing a face that bore the subtle imprints of life's experiences, such as a scar on his eyebrow arch that MC had never seen before.

The only remaining trace of the boyish charm that MC had cherished years ago, was the constellations of freckles that beautifully decorated his face. They had always made MC weak in the knees, but the butterflies in her stomach were multiplied tenfold now that they were highlighted by his light tan.

MC internally begged herself to stop ogling him before she fell further under his spell (if that was even possible, considering how head over heels she was for him).

She poured herself another drink and cleared her throat, “You said you wanted to catch up over drinks, right? Go ahead. Tell me about yourself.”

As Sebastian spoke, MC found herself captivated by the way he carried himself – his confidence unaltered after all these years, and the assurance with which he gestured. There was an understated magnetism in the way he spoke, a reflection of the man he had become since they last parted. As he easily recounted all he had achieved, MC marvelled at the beauty of the journey that had transformed him into the person sitting in front of her.

And so, MC listened attentively, desperate to know everything she had missed about him. She thus learnt that, after Hogwarts, Sebastian had joined the Auror recruitment programme. His first reason was that it was a profession he was passionate about, and that allowed him to do what he loved all day long. The second reason – and perhaps the most important – was because he knew that this career would help him to achieve noble things. In other words, it was his way of making amends for all the mistakes he had made in the past, in the hope that Anne would eventually forgive him too (which had taken a long time, but eventually worked out).

After having been accepted into the programme, Sebastian knew that he would not be able to stay in Feldcroft, firstly because the cottage held too many painful memories, but also because it was now Anne and Ominis' shared home. Consequently, he had found himself a small studio in London, not far from the Ministry. However, even after spending several months there, it just never felt like home to him. He resented the lack of green space, and the fact that he always had to check that none of his Muggle neighbours noticed that he was a wizard. So he moved again.

Looking for a place that was both in the heart of the Highlands and still bustling with life, Sebastian found only one possibility: Hogsmeade. The small, all-wizarding village met all his expectations, and the Ministry was easy to reach thanks to the Floo Network. And so, Sebastian moved into this small cottage, perfect for his life as a bachelor.

“So Auror Sallow, huh?” MC said playfully. “Well, can Auror Sallow win a duel against Ancient Magic Prodigy MC?”

“He sure hopes he can, since it’s supposed to be his job.” Sebastian laughed along with her.

“Do you want to put yourself to the test?” She cocked an eyebrow at him mischievously.

“You know I never shy away from a duel.” He replied with the same spark of deviltry in his eyes.

Without wasting any more time, Sebastian stood up, then turned to MC, holding out his hand to help her up. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough to make MC's cheekbones turn pink, as would any act of affection she received from Sebastian.

The two took their positions, taking a few steps apart before facing each other. It had been years since they last engaged in the exhilarating dance of magical duelling, a pastime that had once defined their youth, especially after being named Crossed Wands champions for three years running.

"Ready?" Sebastian grinned, the confidence of experience illuminating his eyes.

"Always." MC replied, wand at the ready, and they prepared to rediscover the thrill that had bound them together in shared laughter and friendly rivalry.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Sebastian let MC commence hostilities.

“Expelliarmus!”

“You're off to an easy start.” Sebastian laughed after brushing the attack off with a simple Shield Charm. “Confringo!”

MC deflected the spell just as easily, smirking right back at him, “You're off to a predictable start.”

A symphony of lights ensued, as sparks and spells flew, and the air shimmered with the energy of their magical prowess. MC’s spells were fluid and controlled, a testament to the skill she had honed over the years. Sebastian, however, moved with a newfound grace and precision, his every movement reflecting the growth and mastery he had attained thanks to the Auror training.

The duelling only grew in intensity as the two friends weaved intricate spells, each trying to outmanoeuvre the other. Laughter and teasing remarks echoed through the night as memories of their youth resurfaced in the midst of their magical exchange.

After several long and intense minutes of competing against each other, Sebastian unexpectedly directed his wand away from MC, aiming instead at the ceiling, and more precisely at the chandelier hanging from it.

“Glacius!” The candles obviously failed to resist the ice and were instantly extinguished on contact, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

Distracted by the newfound refined strategy established by Sebastian – which he had no doubt learnt to put in place at the speed of light during one of his courses – MC did not notice Sebastian disappear under a Disillusionment Charm, which was all the more effective as there was hardly any light in the living room, apart from the orange flames crackling in the fireplace.

With a final, masterful flick of his wand, Sebastian cast the final blow, “Depulso.”

MC found herself propelled to the floor, her back slamming against the sofa. Judging by the underwhelming low force of the impact, it was easy to guess that he had restrained himself, so as not to hurt her.

“Looks like I've had my long-awaited revenge for fifth year. I've finally bested you in a duel." Sebastian, breathing slightly heavier but grinning ear to ear, extended a hand to help her up.

MC, refusing to admit defeat, grabbed Sebastian's hand but only to make him fall to the ground beside her. She rolled them over until she was astride him, holding him firmly down.

She grinned down at him, “Really? Because I actually think I’ve won.”

He barked a laugh, “And I think you've forgotten the rule that you're not allowed to use physical violence in a wizard duel.”

“Since when do we play by the rules?”

Their gazes met for the umpteenth time that night, but this time was different. It was as if time had come to a standstill, as if the world had momentarily stopped spinning for them, just to let them savour the closeness of the moment.

MC kept staring into Sebastian's chocolate eyes, and was truly taken aback by what she saw in them. His eyes, once full of youthful curiosity, now sparkled with a different kind of radiance. They shone with a brightness that seemed to reflect the happiness and contentment he had found in his life. The laughter lines around his eyes only enhanced their glow, and as MC looked into those bright, expressive eyes, she could not help but feel a sense of joy for the man who had evolved from the adorable teenage friend she once knew, into the confident and content individual currently lying on the ground beneath her.

In those eyes, she saw the echoes of the genuine happiness that had transformed Sebastian into the person he was meant to be, the person she should have met from the very beginning of fifth year, if only Anne had never been cursed by Rookwood.

But now Sebastian was completely fulfilled with every aspect of his life. It was as plain as the nose on his face. And the feeling was made all the clearer by the fact that his lively eyes were perfectly matched by his wide toothy grin, which shone brightly even in the middle of the darkened living room.

After eventually snapping out of her thoughts, MC pulled herself away from Sebastian and helped him straighten up, “I’m proud of you, Seb, of what you’ve become. The future Mrs. Sallow will be very lucky to have a capable man like you by her side.”

Sebastian sat down next to her on the floor, facing the fireplace, and back resting against the sofa behind them, “She’ll never be as lucky as Mr. MC will be. I hope he’ll realise he’s got the most brilliant witch of the world by his side.”

MC grabbed his arm and hugged it close to her chest, while hooking her leg over one of his. Their limbs were tangled together, clinging to each other. Sebastian seemed to have no objection to this new positioning. In fact, he seemed quite delighted as he wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the girl next to him.

“What d’you think he’ll be like, my future husband?” She asked quietly.

“He’ll have to be right for you.” He replied all too solemnly.

A small laugh escaped her, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it has to be someone who will know how to take care of you, and give you everything you need to be happy, without a single shred of hesitation. It will be someone who's worthy of standing by your side and will be able to protect you from any danger… so basically someone who'll be able to defeat me in a duel."

"Seems like I'll be stuck with you for the rest of my life, then." MC continued to smile, but it was no longer in amusement. It was something more akin to contentment.

Sebastian mirrored her expression, "Perhaps you will. I can’t imagine it'd be too bad, would it?"

"Apart from your occasional bad temper, I think I could take it." She rested her head on his strong shoulder.

MC was not sure whether it was the fatigue accumulated from her perpetual travels, or the feeling of being in a warm, comfortable home, or even the fact of being reunited with Sebastian (it was probably all three), but her eyelids became heavy without her even realising it, leading her into a peaceful sleep.

“I'm going to celebrate Christmas at Anne and Ominis' house tomorrow. You're coming.” Sebastian declared out of the blue, without realising that the girl had started dozing off.

“What? No, Seb, I can’t do that. I can’t just barge in when I wasn’t invited.” MC mumbled groggily.

“You don’t need an invitation, MC. It’s you. You’re always welcome.” He retorted instantly, as if it was the most common fact to ever exist. “Plus, they miss you, so they’ll be the happiest people in the world if you show up.”

“I won't even have a present to give them...” She muttered like a pouting small child, which made it impossible for Sebastian to hold back a chuckle.

“You're back. Believe me, that's better than any present you could buy.”

Sebastian's fingers subconsciously started tracing invisible shapes on her arm, effectively lulling her back to sleep.

❄∗❆∗❅⁂∗☃∗⁂❅∗❆∗❄

The next morning, MC was woken by the few rays of winter sunshine that the curtains had failed to hold back. Keeping her eyes closed to enjoy a few more minutes of rest, she rolled onto her stomach and was pleasantly surprised by the feel of soft sheets against the skin of her face. But what struck her most was that she could smell Sebastian's perfume all around her, as if she were immersed in one of the bottles.

Completely enveloped by the sophisticated fusion of woody undertones and hints of vetiver, and the enigmatic charm it carried, MC opened her eyes and realised that she had indeed spent the night in Sebastian's bed. On seeing this, MC let herself think that Sebastian had slept in the same bed as her, and that perhaps, with a little bit of luck, he reciprocated her feelings.

A flutter of anticipation flickered within her, one that prevented her from staying in bed any longer. Without wasting any more time, MC descended the mezzanine stairs to the living room, where Sebastian was already sitting on the couch, Daily Prophet in hand.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Sebastian greeted her with a smile when he noticed her standing at the bottom of the stairs.

MC realised he must have been up for quite some time, for he was freshly cleaned up – the lack of stubble which had been present the previous day was testament to it – and already dressed up for the imminent Christmas reunion. He was clad in a tan windowpane shirt, coupled with a gingerbread brown vest matching his tailored pants. The choice of colours could not have been more perfect. All those shades of brown brought out all his most majestic features: his unruly yet soft hair, his freckled skin, his warm and reassuring eyes…

Sebastian was making it humanly impossible to tear one’s gaze away from his god-like appearance, and MC could not resist making a comment about it.

“Morning, handsome.” She smirked playfully back at him.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever.” MC admitted, a discreet pink tinting her cheekbones. “Just a question, though. How did I get up there?”

“I carried you, of course. Couldn't let you sleep on the floor. What kind of host would I have been?”

“And… you slept…?”

“On the couch. Just like I told you I would.” Sebastian smiled tenderly.

“Right.”

And with these few simple words, reality dawned on MC. Disappointment settled in, like a gentle snowfall dampening the warm embers of her previous hope that Sebastian harboured feelings for her.

The truth was that he had chosen the sofa over sharing the bed with her, a sign that he still viewed MC as nothing more than a friend. The girl felt her heart tug, like a reminder of why she had chosen not to be part of his life any more.

MC took a deep breath, “I'm gonna go and get ready, so we don't arrive late at Anne and Ominis'.”

“Anne likes us all to be dressed up for Christmas. We can go and buy you a dress at Gladrags, if you'd like–”

She immediately shook her head, “No, no, it's fine. Don't worry, I've got everything I need.”

MC took out her wand and pointed it at her small shoulder bag on the floor. With a simple flick, the object grew tenfold in volume until it reached the size of a suitcase. MC opened it, revealing that the bag had been enchanted to be bottomless, and she climbed inside it before disappearing. All that could be heard was the sound of her footsteps, and her bustle as she went through all sorts of outfits.

“Talk about travelling light.” Sebastian snickered.

A few moments later, MC emerged back from the suitcase as if climbing a ladder, wearing an ankle-length cotton mahogany dress. The corset hugged her waist perfectly, and highlighted her bust with its square neckline and short puffed sleeves. The dress was nothing extravagant, but the fact that it fit her like a glove was what made it so charming.

“Is this dress all right? Think it'll be nice enough for Anne?” She gave it a twirl, so that Sebastian could see it from every angle, before putting on a black cloak to protect herself from the winter cold.

“It looks great. You look great. Well, not great, actually. I mean– More like stunning. You look stunning, you do. We’re even matching. The colour, I mean. Because obviously you look better than me.” Sebastian stammered awkwardly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness. “Merlin, this is awful. I need to learn to shut up.”

“It’s alright. I understood what you meant, that's the most important thing.” MC could only chuckle at his new bashfulness. She found it absolutely endearing.

Sebastian took a deep breath before speaking more clearly, “What I’m trying to say is… You're beautiful. You’ve always been.”

“Thank you, Seb.” She met his gaze, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

He tried to divert attention from his nervousness by slipping on his long black coat, and grabbing the wrapped gifts for his niece, “Ready to go?”

MC nodded in response, waiting for Sebastian to apparate them. She expected him to grab her by the arm, but instead he wrapped an arm around her waist. He brought her small figure close to him, as if he wanted to make sure that she would be comfortable during the apparition, that there was not even the slightest chance for her to get splinched.

With a loud crack, the world began to spin. Next thing she knew, MC was standing in the middle of the snowy village of Feldcroft. As she tried to right herself, she staggered slightly, dizzy from the apparition, whose effects were far more brutal when someone was doing it for you. Fortunately, Sebastian still had an arm wrapped around her waist to cradle her against him. With his other hand, he grabbed her elbow to steady her.

Once Sebastian was certain that MC was all right, he guided her towards the Sallow cottage, which she had not seen for years. From the outside, it looked much bigger than she remembered, particularly because it had an extra floor. Sebastian explained that he had helped Anne and Ominis enlarge it after their wedding, so that they would have enough room for their future family.

Sebastian was the first to set foot on the cottage porch. He hid MC behind him with his body, to create an effect of surprise, then knocked on the door. It was Anne who answered, appearing in the doorway wearing a sublime ankle-length midnight-blue velvet dress adorned with cultured pearls.

"Sebastian! I told you to buy only one present! She's going to end up spoiled rotten if this keeps up." Anne exclaimed without even greeting her brother.

"She's my only niece. Who am I to spend my money on if not her?"

"How 'bout your sister?" She raised an accusing eyebrow at him, while clearing him of all the packages in his arms.

"Ah, but I've brought a surprise for you too. Look what I found last night…" He intoned with amusement, and stepped aside to reveal MC. "A lost soul who wanted to spend Christmas alone at the Hog’s Head!"

"Oh my, MC!" Anne swiftly pulled the girl into a bear hug. "Ominis, come here!"

"What is it, sweetie?" The blond man called from afar, carrying his daughter in his arms.

Judging by the way he had stopped dead in his tracks, coming to an abrupt halt, MC knew that he had sensed her presence thanks to his sentient wand.

Sebastian decided to take his brother-in-law’s daughter off his hands, so that the two friends could reunite peacefully, "Hey, little monster! Wanna give a hug to Uncle Seb?"

Meanwhile, MC approached her old friend and spoke softly, "Hello, Ominis."

Knowing that Ominis was not very comfortable with physical contact, especially with people he did not know well, MC was not sure how to greet him. So it came as a great surprise when he made no hesitation whatsoever and took her in his arms, holding her tightly.

"I should be telling you off for disappearing... but I'm not going to. Not today." Ominis whispered in her ear.

She chuckled lightly, "I'm happy to see you too."

"Let me take your coat." He offered after pulling away.

MC untied the ribbon from her cloak, and handed it to Ominis. She then turned to Sebastian to pick up the toddler in his arms, so that he too could remove his thick winter coat.

"Hi, little princess. I'm a friend of your mummy and daddy, and your uncle Sebastian too." MC cooed in a honeyed voice. She could not help noticing that the little girl in her arms was the perfect amalgam of her two parents. She had all her mother's features, but with meadow-blonde hair and grey-blue eyes like her father.

"Unkie! Unkie!" She pouted and made big gestures with her arms to indicate that she wanted to go back to her uncle. She truly was an uncle's little girl.

"I'm here, baby.” Sebastian immediately took her back into his arms, after giving Ominis his coat, to cradle her. “You don't have to be scared of MC. She's really nice too, you know."

"Auntie?" The one-year-old asked hesitantly, reaching out to wrap her hand around MC's index finger.

"That's right, that's Auntie MC." Sebastian encouraged her. It was impressive how he naturally had his way with kids.

It may have been silly, but something as simple as being called Auntie by a child she had just met, as well as by Sebastian, awakened something in her, a sense of belonging that had been dormant for a long time. She truly felt like a fully-fledged member of this family.

Anne suddenly let out a sigh, "I'd love to be able to celebrate the reunion with you, but I've still got lots of things to do in the kitchen. Sebastian, can you look after the baby while Ominis lays the table?"

"I'll come and help you, Anne." MC declared.

"Thank you, MC. You're too kind." Anne exited the living room, followed by MC.

“So… You and Ominis, huh?” MC started once they were alone. She was sitting across from Anne at the small kitchen table which was covered in food stains from preparing the meal.

Anne immediately shook her head, “Oh, no, no. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about my marital life later. Let's talk about how you ended up here with my brother after all these years."

"We ran into each other last night in Hogsmeade. He offered me to sleep over, and we basically spent the better part of the night talking." MC shrugged.

"And?” Anne pried impatiently. “What happened?"

"Nothing. What do you want to happen?”

“Nothing. It was just a random question.” Anne replied coyly while she finished icing the Yule log. “So, update me as well. Where are you in life? Have you met anyone?”

“No, not at all. I haven't really had time for that.”

“That's a shame.”

“What – uhm – What about him?” MC did not look up from the kilted soldiers she was preparing, in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Needless to say, it was a failure.

“Who?” Anne feigned ignorance.

MC heaved a sigh, deciding to finally meet her friend's gaze, “Sebastian. Has he met anyone recently?”

Anne bit the inside of her cheek, "I think you should ask him directly."

"I'm scared it'll be awkward…"

"Well… if you want to know everything, he hasn’t courted anyone since you went away. He claims that he's not interested in dating, that he’s focusing on becoming a proper Auror first. He always finds an excuse to avoid admitting that he's already got a girl on his mind, but is too much of a coward to act upon it."

MC felt her heart skip a beat. A cold realization settled over her, making her stop everything she was doing. Her heart sank, the weight of unspoken truths pressing upon her, and she forced a tight-lipped smile, concealing the ache within as she navigated the sudden revelation that someone else was in Sebastian's heart, and it was not her.

MC swallowed thickly, "Has he known her for long?"

"Several years."

"And is she a good person? Does she treat him well?"

"He's never been happier than when he's with her." Anne admitted with a sincere smile that contrasted drastically with the unsettled look that MC was unable to disguise.

"Who is it?" She asked weakly, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I fear that’s too much information, and that's not for me to tell. Just ask him."

Without another word on the matter, Anne gracefully pivoted, excusing herself to go back to the living room and announce that the meal was ready. MC took a moment to compose herself, swallowing the bitter pill of disappointment before joining the others in the living room.

Seated at the table, surrounded by the warmth of holiday decorations and the aroma of a festive feast, the four friends engaged in a pleasant chatter. The clinking of cutlery and laughter created a veneer of normalcy. They reminisced adventures from their time at Hogwarts, shared stories about their jobs, exchanged anecdotes about Anne and Ominis’s little one, and indulged in the delights of the Christmas meal.

“So, MC, what have you been up to during your travels?” Ominis asked as he had just finished feeding his daughter.

MC swallowed her mouthful of turkey before replying, “Well, you know, trying to explore the world and discover new places. Honestly, I’ve just been searching for a place that makes me want to stay, that feels like home.”

“And have you found that place yet?”

MC was silent for a moment. How was she supposed to explain that she had found this special place years ago, but had fled far away from it, just to search the world for something similar? Because if MC was willing to face the truth, she knew that her home was wherever Sebastian was.

Sebastian was her home.

It was quite ironic that he did not feel the same way about her…

“I… I’m not sure.” MC finally said.

“…Does that mean you’ll be back on the road again?” Ominis questioned again, but this time with caution.

“Yes. I leave tomorrow morning.” MC replied resolutely.

The clatter of dropped cutlery echoed like an unintentional punctuation to the tremendous silence that followed. Eyes widened, gazes met with uncertainty, and an unspoken tension pulsed through the room.

Anne was the first to break the palpable unease by raising her voice, “What? But you just came back! You can’t leave so soon.”

The next sound came from Sebastian's chair legs scraping the floor as he stood up abruptly and threw his napkin on the table, “Excuse me. I need some fresh air.”

His eyes did not meet anyone's as he left the table. Without even grabbing his coat, he stormed out of the house. The door slammed behind him and echoed through the deathly hush inside.

"What’s up with him? Did I say something wrong?" MC asked, disconcerted. She was completely unaware of the weight of her revelation, which had hit her friends like a tidal wave.

Anne huffed in irritation before shouting at her, "Of course you did, MC! You're supposed to be his best friend! Can't you see how cruel you're being to him?"

Ominis rested a hand on his wife's shoulder, "Calm down, sweetie. It's not her fault MC is dense."

"Hey!" The girl exclaimed indignantly, but Ominis ignored her.

"Let me put it simply for you, MC. We were all hurt when you left without saying a word, but Sebastian's been a complete wreck ever since. The usual cheerful Sebastian you know was nowhere to be found for years… until today. And that's only because you came back.”

“And now, you've just brutally told him that you plan to disappear tomorrow, and take his happiness with you! Again!" Anne insisted, determined to keep rubbing it in until realisation eventually hit the girl.

Fortunately, it worked quite quickly, but now MC did not know what to do with herself, "I... I didn't know that... I thought he’d just forget about me and move on."

"I thought you knew him better than that. Haven’t you yet realised that you're everything to him? Because it's more than time you do!"

“I… need to talk to him. Excuse me.”

MC, in turn, rushed out of the cottage, only grabbing Sebastian's coat in her haste.

The freezing air greeted her as she stepped outside, snowflakes landing on her hair and the bare skin of her arms. Thankfully, it did not take her long to spot Sebastian, who had moved slightly away from the house to lean against a tree, his shoulders hunched slightly against the winter chill.

She approached him slowly, but with a determined step, the snow crunching under her feet. She knew he had heard her by the way he straightened up, even though he seemed intent on ignoring her.

“Seb, come back inside. It’s freezing, you’re gonna catch your death.” She implored him, covering herself with her arms to protect herself from the icy wind.

“What’s it to you? You won’t even be there to see it.” He replied even more coldly than the weather, without even turning to look at her.

“…Put on your coat at least.” She insisted, extending it to him.

Sebastian took the coat from her, but instead of putting it on like expected, he draped it over her, so that she would not get cold. His hands lingered on her shoulders, which were now protected by the thick felt.

At last, he met her gaze, his eyes silently pleading with her, “Am I not good enough for you to stay? Not good enough for you to notice me?”

MC grabbed his wrists as if by instinct, “Seb, of course you’re plenty enough. You’re my oldest friend–”

Sebastian sighed in annoyance and pulled away from her, “But can’t you see it’s not enough for me?”

“…What?”

Sebastian reached into his pocket, retrieving a small velvet box. He had always imagined giving her this gift with a broad smile, but now he was opening the box with a rueful frown, to reveal a delicate ring.

“I wanted to give it to you a little after we graduated. I wanted to give it to you to confess my feelings. I wanted that ring to be a symbol of my devotion, and a promise to always remain loyal to you… Turned out life had other plans because you left the day I bought it.”

“Sebastian…” MC croaked out, doing her best to fight back the tears that threatened to fall as she stared at the magnificent jewel that was the poignant representation of all the missed opportunities and lost time.

"Now’s a good time to give it to you, I think. If you’re going to leave again, might as well be honest while I have the chance, before you run away like last time." He said acrimoniously as he placed the ring on her finger.

"Wha…” The shock took away MC's voice before she could even finish her sentence. Her eyes were riveted on the golden band. “What about the girl you like? Anne told me you were interested in someone."

"The girl I like?” He laughed humourlessly. “MC, I've been ridiculously and irrevocably in love with you since fifth year, since the day you kicked my arse in Hecat’s class. You literally knocked me off my feet. I know I didn't always show it well, but it's true, it's always been you.”

MC let out a pained grunt and hid her face in her hands in shame, "Oh Merlin, Seb... I've been such an idiot."

“Why?” Sebastian frowned.

“I've always loved you too. But I was so miserable thinking I'd never be anything more than your friend, that I decided to disappear to try and forget you.”

“And? Please, tell me it didn’t work.” His words came out desperate, almost begging.

She took his face between her hands, and lovingly caressed his cold cheeks, “It didn’t. How could I ever forget you? Being away from you only made me miss you more.”

His hands came down to rest around her waist, bringing her close to his body, in search of both solace and warmth, “It's all right. We're together now. You don't have to leave anymore. All's well that ends well.”

“Well… Not exactly all. You gave me this beautiful ring, and I have nothing to give you in return.”

“I finally have the witch of my dreams back at my side. I couldn’t dream of a better Christmas present.”

Suddenly, MC and Sebastian were interrupted by a cracking sound coming from above them. They looked up and saw a branch of mistletoe sprang out of thin air from one of the branches of the tree they were standing under, its delicate white berries shimmering in the soft glow of the surrounding lights.

Sebastian looked back down at MC, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Actually… I’ve just thought of a gift you could give me.”

The snowflakes descended gracefully around them, creating a magical scene that mirrored the fluttering emotions in their hearts. In that enchanting moment, with the world cocooned in a quiet hush, MC found the fiery courage and desire to close the thin gap between them. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and their hearts were set alight, for the moment they had dreamt of most in their lives had finally become reality.

Out of enthusiasm, Sebastian tightened his grip around MC, with his arms completely wrapped around her petite frame, enveloping her in such warmth that she completely forgot they were both covered in snow. He pressed and secured her tightly against him, and lifted her off the ground. Out of reflex, the girl's hands travelled up to wrap around his neck to steady herself. Her fingertips grazed his soft curls, sending shivers down her spine.

Unfortunately, their winter wonderland moment was abruptly interrupted by the joyful cheers of their friends inside the house. MC and Sebastian reluctantly pulled away from each other, and turned in the direction of the commotion to see Anne and Ominis glued to the window to spy on them. The wand in Anne's hand was proof enough that it was she who had conjured up the mistletoe.

MC giggled, looking back at her boyfriend with stars in her eyes, and her hands resting in his chest, “Merry Christmas, Seb.”

“Merry Christmas, darling.” He answered softly before leaning in to steal another kiss from her.

MC sincerely hoped there would be another Mrs. Sallow other than Anne next Christmas, for she had finally found her home and never planned on leaving ever again.

❄∗❆∗❅⁂∗☃∗⁂❅∗❆∗❄

Part 2 : Christmas at Home (link)

[soleilnewspaper]

Broken promises

Series masterlist

Summary: Regulus reminds you of a promise you made to him in childhood and how you have broken it. You return from a weekend trip to find Remus in the hospital wing. Sirius knows he can’t hide Remus’s condition for you any longer.

Pairing: platonic Regulus x fem!reader, poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, fighting with friends, feeling inadequate, cliffhanger, talks of blood and bruises (from the full moon)

Word count: 1.9k

AN: I’m terribly ill and doc ordered me to say in bed, so sleep and write is all I have done today lol. Sorry it’s a little short. Thank you for your time :)

December 24th, 1970

Number 12 Grimmauld Place, North West of London, hidden from the eyes of muggles. The Black family took pride in the fact that they were hosting the Yule Eve dinner party. They were Pureblood royalty after all.

The house was decorated in festive decorations for the upcoming Yule celebrations custom of the sacred 28 society. The food alone could surely feed an entire orphanage.

A young Regulus, at a mere nine years old yet dressed far better than most adults. The scratchy material of his dress robes had been bothering him from the moment his mother had forced him into them. His black locs were combed back with magical gel to ensure he remained perfect for the night.

Clasped his small hand, you ran along with him. The frills from your pink dress made it difficult to much. It overwhelmed your body. You thought you looked like a large ball of cotton candy. Which your mother had scolded you for even thinking such a thing.

Trails of pristine white ribbons once worn in your hair now lay tossed on the freshly polished floors of the manor. Your house elf had been ordered by your mother to ‘tame’ your hair earlier that night. Hours of work had been in vain as your locs had bounced back only moments ago. Sliver jewerly adorned your neck sparkling in the candle lit hallway.

Kreacher had turned a blind eye to your ‘escape’ from the dinner. Neither of your mothers had noticed your absence yet. Something which both Regulus and you were beyond grateful for. Merlin knows what your punishment would be for daring to participate in such childish behaviour. For, being a pureblood meant you never were a child. You were simply an investment.

Regulus was the spare, the second choice, a precautionary measure that his parents had taken should Sirius prove to not be eligible. You, on the other hand, were born a girl. Which meant you were to be married off the moment you were of legal age. Although you had heard the stories of girls who had been forced to marry long before that. Your potential husband would be most likely related to you in some way.

Your mother would often gossip about how the Black Family ‘kept things in the family’ in reference to how cousins married each other frequently. However, truth be told, all pureblood were related in some way or other. Pureblood had been facing excitation for centuries. In order to keep their lines ‘pure’ they needed to dip their toes into the pool of incest. The sacred 28 all crossed over if you were to look close enough. Which is why you thought your mother to be a hypocrite.

Regulus pulled you into a nock in the attic. Whilst you were still in a fit of giggles.

“My lady.” Regulus pretended to bow, taking an old feathered hat on and then off his head.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You responded through a set of giggles. Giving him a curtse in return, just as your mother had taught you.

Regulus took your hand and guided you to sit down with him on the floor, placing his suit jacket down to avoid you getting your dress dirty. You picked up the ends of your dress to try make it easier on you to sit down. A proof sound was heard the second you touched the floor. As you quite literally fell on your ass from the sheer size of the dress. Your mother was a beautiful woman but her style was eccentric to say the least. She had dressed your sister and brother in a similar fashion, both of who were being good children and still in the dining hall.

“Will you consider promising me something, Y/N?” The boy’s language was far better than most adults you knew. Pureblood society doing of course. You were both already fluent in Latin and Greek while Regulus knew French as well. It being his family’s main language after all.

“Whatever do you mean, Reggie?” You asked in the same tone. Frowning your small brows in confusion.

“Would it be to much to ask, if you could promise to be mine forever.” His statement confused you at first causing him to explain further. “We both know our mothers will marry us off one of these days, but please choose me, your friend first.”

“As long as you promise to choose me always and forever.” You smiled back at him.

“Best friends before lovers?” Regulus asked you unsure of himself.

“I would rather have live a life with no love, than live one without you as my friend.” You took ahold of his hand gently.

“I do not wish to condemn you to a love of loneliness, Y/N.” He dropped his hand from yours, fearing he was asking you too much with your friendship.

“Reggie, with you by my side, I could never be lonely.” That had earned you a smile from him, a one larger than you had ever seen before.

Present time

Regulus Arcturus Black would never be your lover. No, your bond proceeded that of romantic expectations. Your bond would always be platonic, but it would be the deepest bond you would ever have. For your souls wore bind together in no way a lover could understand. Even if it was a childish desire to ask for your loyalty forever. To chose him over everyone else in the world. You knew, that in truth, there was only one person he had asked you to never choose over him. His brother. Which is exactly what you had done. The one thing he had begged of you all those years ago, you had done without hesitation. Breaking his trust doesn’t even cover the cost your newfound relationship had taken to your oldest one.

He was not angry nor was he upset with you. Regulus felt hurt, betrayed even. In all his life, he had lived with the expectation that he would always be second best. Only this past summer had his parents began to pay attention to him after Sirius had left home. Officially disowning their eldest, made Regulus their heir. He was only valued once Sirius was gone. For once in his life, people had began to look at him instead. It had been a long time coming, since the moment Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. The light slowly began to shift to the younger brother. Yet, never completely, not until now. Within the span of a few weeks he had become the star of the family. A fact which had only served to make him bitter because he knew the care of his family was conditional. For they had hardly offered him a look before he was proved to be their last hope of salvation.

The worse part was Sirius believed Regulus was the first choice. When in fact he had never been someone’s first choice in anything. That is excluding you. Regulus had always been your first choice. It was something which he had come to held dearly in the span of his fifteen years of life.

Despite being a few months younger than Sirius, and almost a whole year older than Regulus. You had chosen to be his friend. As children, your mother urged you to make connection with Sirius, but you never did. Regulus was who you chose to spend your time with. Up until Hogwarts neither one of you had any real friends besides each other. Barty did not run in the same circles as the two of you before Hogwarts. The rosier twins didn’t form a friendship with you until Regulus’s first year at Hogwarts which had been their first too.

He had only asked one thing of you, and you could not give him that. You now understood his anger. Yet you still felt defensive as you were in a vulnerable state.

“You do not get to held a childish promise over my head!” You yelled, your voice reaching across the common room.

“It is not about the promise, Y/N.” Regulus stated with lips pulled into a thin unreadable expression.

“Then what is it about, Regulus?” Anger severed through your throat as you spoke.

“Rage does not consume me for the mere fact of your entanglement in a romantic relationship. As one of your closest friends, I comprehend that it is beyond my jurisdiction to dictate the auspices under which you choose to allocate your precious hours. Yet, I implored solely that you not date my own brother.” Regulus paced around the room, his hand running through hair multiple times before he turned to face you directly.

“For it is your preference that leans towards him, and no longer me. He is accustomed to being selected first and foremost in all things. I am not. Barty, Evan, Pandora and you were mine; untill you chose me over me. The one thing you promised, swore, you would never do.” Regulus voice no longer held anger, it was filled with hurt. He pointed a a finger towards your chest to further his point. Breathless as he spoke.

“Reg…” You moved towards him but he flinched away from your touch. “My relationship with him does not change the friendship I have with you.”

“Liar.”

“You say that, yet you continue to be with him. To chose him.” Regulus walked away from you but you followed without hesitation.

“You are being over dramatic.”

“Am I, so am I to just discard the only person who truly understands me. In order to allow you to satisfy your desires.” Regulus used the boot of his shoe to kick the table lightly.

“You do not mean that.” Tears were beginning to form in your eyes.

“What other choice have you given me?” Regulus breathed out barely forming words.

“I never intended to lose you, Reg.”

“Oh, well then everything is sorted. Is it not. Far be it that I have feelings and reactions to your actions.”

“Please, stop, I beg of you.” Your voice was pleading with him now.

“Would you do one decency?”

“Anything.”

“Tell me why did it have to be him.” You heard the crack in his voice as he spoke. Arms at his side and legs planted on the floor.

You squeezed your eyes shut at his question. Knowing whatever your answer would only serve to hurt him further.

“I fell for him. I tried not to. Believe me I did, but I cannot ignore my feelings anymore. Please forgive me.”

“Forgiveness does not come easy, Y/N.” Regulus eyes roared with anger, but you knew there still lay hurt behind them. “But I don’t want to lose you.”

“Does that mean…” The steps you took towards him were careful and precise to not spook him with your actions.

“I would could never live without your friendship. It pains me so, but I know I have to forgive you, but do not ask me to forgive him.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as the words left his cold lips. Before another moment could pass, you wrapped your arms around his torso. To your surprise he accepted your affection. He had never been one to allow affectionate gestures, it simply was not his way of expressing himself. Yet, in the rare moments when he allowed himself to let another in, his warmth would be unlimited.

“Can I assume I have my best friend back?” Your voice was muffled by Regulus’ green Qudditch jersey.

He pulled away from the hug but kept physical contact with you by placing both of his hands on your sides.

“You never lost me.”

Sounds of students began to fill the common room as they returned from the pitch and great hall. Undoubtedly complaining and/or talking about the lack of victory Slytherin had acquired in today’s events.

“One last thing, Y/N.” Regulus spoke in a hushed tone to avoid being interrupted or ease dropped on.

“Anything.”

“If my brother hurts you, there’s not a place in the world he’d be able to hide from me. Blood may be thicker than water, but my loyalty for you will always outweigh my loyalty for him. Never doubt that for a moment.”

“I appreciate it, but that’s not necessarily-“

“Believe me when I say, negotiation is not an option here. You will lose this argument.” Regulus’s dark eyes were completely serious and his face showed no signs of amusement.

“Is your plan to treat me like a child of divorce?”

“Mmm, we’ll work on the arrangements later.” Regulus smiled at you, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You know you will always be my best friend, right?” You asked taking his hand in yours.

“Don’t tell Barty that, he might kill me.” Regulus leaned into you.

“Well we would’t want that, now would we.”

The life of a pureblood had taught you many things. None of which had seamed to prove helpful in any way shape or form for your current situation.

While you might have seamed to patch things up with Regulus for the most part. Although you still were treading in dangerous waters. At least you could sleep soundly knowing he was willing to come around to the idea. In time, of course.

Yet, you still faced another dilemma; your relationship. Secrets were being kept from you, that was obvious enough, but what the secret was remained a mystery to you.

It didn’t help that Sirius and Remus seamed to have no intention of letting you in on it anytime soon. Taking into consideration how much history the two had, you continued to feel out of place in your own relationship, and feared for how much long you could take it.

For the past three days, you had to be condemned to visiting your oh so loving family. Torture did not even begin to cover it. Though you knew there were pureblood children in worst situations. The Blacks were a prime example. Leading you to appreciate your dysfunctional family because at least they had never used an unforgivable curse on you. To say the bar was low would be an understatement.

So as you walked through the castle walls having returned from your trip. Your mind began to wonder. However, your moment of peace was short lived as you passed the Hospital Wing.

You couldn’t see much but you could see Sirius who was walking towards the door. Through a series of lies, excuses and distractions, the boys had managed to occlude you from Remus’s condition. Yet, your weekend away just so happened to be a full moon. A particularly horrific one in fact. No chance were they going to be able to hide it from you now.

Sirius’s sliver eyes were accompanied by purple eye bags from staying up all night with Remus. Hair fell in disarray and tangles were visible in his usual elegant locs. He appeared gaunt, almost as if the life had been drained out of him.

Upon seeing you, a serge of panic ripped through his entire being.

“Oh Salvar.” You rushed towards him in panic searching his face for signs of injury. It only worked to make him feel more guilty than he already was.

“S’m nothin’.” Tiredness and worry were evident in his voice.

“Sirius, do not take me for a fool.”

“I’m not, honestly, just-“ Whilst barely finding the energy to form words, you interrupted him with rage already approaching.

“What’ll be this time, huh?” Hands fell from his face leaving a cold chill. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, you were beyond rage, you were done.

“It’s not like that, baby.” His voice begged for sympathy but you refused to show the effort he had on you.

“Where’s Remus?”

Sirius’s eyes widen at the thought of you seeing Remus in his current state. You stepped forward to enter the hospital wing causing him to plant himself in front of you. Using his height to block your view. Your flight or fight activated. Making use of the large space of the room you tricked him by making him believe you were headed one way and then pushed past him in the other.

As soon as you had escaped his gasp, Sirius ran after you in panic. However, with our tired he was, he didn’t have the strength to carry through.

Remus lay curled up on the hospital bed. Bandages surrounded his body in multiple places. Most seamed clean but others had large red stains from blood. Bruises and cuts decorated his body like Christmas lights. The beautiful brown eyes that you had come to cherish so dearly had taken on a dull hue. With dark circles surround them and bloodshot eyes. His hair stuck up in all different directions filled with dirt and a sneer of blood.

A whine escaped the thin werewolf when he turned on his side to see who had entered. His eyes struggled to focus for a few moments to depict your figure, but when he did, he swore he felt just like he did before people knew about his secret. Ashamed, scared, horrified all mixed into self loathing.

“Remus?” You managed to choke out through the tears that had began to form in your eyes upon seeing him.

“Hey, dovie.”

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq

[javelinbk]

But by far the greatest Christmas gift John ever gave to Yoko—as well as to me—wasn’t anything he’d purchased at a store or recorded onto a cassette tape. It was an event, an enchanted twinkling of pure distilled joy, that he orchestrated just for the three of us during the waning hours of December 31, 1979.

A few days earlier, John had laid out his plans to me. He wanted to turn the newly acquired apartment 71 into a private club. John was not a huge fan of nightlife—crowds were problematic for obvious reasons—but he enjoyed the concept of an exclusive, intimate space, something like an old English men’s establishment... So, shortly after Christmas, he and I went shopping on New York’s Lower East Side, where there were dozens of secondhand shops, and proceeded to purchase enough cheap furniture and other decorations—overstuffed sofas, martini shakers, pink flamingo cardboard cutouts—to turn 71 into what John had by now begun referring to as Club Dakota.

After furniture shopping, we spent a few hours combing through vintage record shops, looking for old 78s to fill that antique bubble-top jukebox Yoko had given John. (We found Dooley Wilson singing “As Time Goes By,” Bobby Darin’s “Dream Lover,” Bing Crosby’s “Please,” Gracie Fields’s “Sally,” and scores more.) Then we headed to Canal Street and picked up moldy old black-tie tails and white gloves to wear on Club Dakota’s opening night, which John had decided would be on New Year’s Eve. Technically, John and I were to be the club’s only charter members, but he instructed me to write out a formal invitation to Yoko, which I would later hand deliver to her on a silver platter. Yoko was made merely an “honorary” member because, as John joked to me, otherwise she would immediately try to sexually integrate the club.

I have thought often about that night, about how best to describe it to those who weren’t lucky enough to be there (which, of course, would be the whole rest of the world). And the best I can come up with is that it was like spending a blissful interlude suspended in a magical snow globe. In my memory, we all seem to move in slow motion, as if gliding through glycerin-laced air. The three of us—Yoko in an elegant black evening gown, John and I in ridiculous old penguin suits (he paired his with a white T-shirt and his old Liverpool school tie)—danced and laughed (and smoked) together without a care in the world, the jukebox filling the living room with glorious old tunes from the ’40s and ’50s. I took dozens of Polaroid photos of them that night, but for some reason none of them capture the magic of the moment.

And then, at midnight, our reveries were interrupted by the pop and crackle of fireworks. We all stood by the windows and watched the skyline over Central Park light up with flaming balls and sparkling whirly fountains and a slew of other aerial bursts and barrages. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life. And I’d never seen John and Yoko looking more content and in love.

It was that rarest, most precious thing in life—a perfect moment.

It would also, as fate would have it, be John’s last New Year’s Eve.

Excerpt From, ‘We All Shine On’, Elliot Mintz

[postersofleon]

religious trauma with leon kennedy, dash of smut; no minors, afab.

- leon and you basically grew up together in the catholic church. unfortunately for the two of you, you grew up in a very obsessive and scary way of religion. basically it's religious ocd and intrusive thoughts.

- leon became a cop wanting to help people while you became a something equal to him. leon and you have a constant fear of god. you two are useless virgins who just want to please god.

- when the events of raccoon city happened, leon thought he betrayed god for not helping people, and he was having to suffer the nightmares for his sins. he was having night terrors of the devil. he was weeping and he had to call you.

- two traumatized religious people are praying for leon, for the arcangel michael to protect leon from the devil and the arcangel gabriel to heal his mind. oh, they are horrible in the sense of way.

- leon and you cuddle and leon feels safe.

- you temporarily live with him and go to church. something is happening between you two, it was pure angst of leon crying and you consoling him. he sees you as his angel and he hates himself.

- but you notice something different. it took time and you ask him, "during the... raccoon city tragedy, a woman kissed me." leon looked nervous to mention it. "i temporarily let my lust win." you looked shocked. "the mercenary?" leon...

- you press the cross on his forehead as you sat on his lap, "leon..." leon accept his scolding, his eyes closed and felt good. "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among..."

- something snapped in leon, he adored this scolding, but he hated how he felt cock twitch. you pressed the cross closer to him. "you were in hell." you whispered softly. leon nodded his head, he couldn't agree more. tears poured in his eyes, he couldn't control himself. "help me."

- you pushed him to the couch, leon was panicking as tears appeared more and more. his mind was being desired by the devil laughing. "please, please," leon sobbed softly, "god help me."

- you muttered softly a prayer as you prayed over and over. leon wasn't even thinking about anything, his hand twitched. did god hate him? why did his cock ache? you tie his hands with his rosary, leon groaned weakly.

- you began to panic. his noises, his cries- they made your heart flutter.

- adam and eve. leon was eve and you were adam. leon had tasted the sin and now you were crawling. this was a new feeling. tears formed in your eyes.

leon's cock was the prettiest shade of pink you have ever seen. leon and you didn't know what to do, his arms were tied with the your rosary. his arms twitched, his biceps tensed up and so did his pecs. holy god, he looked beautiful as weeped. his cock was leaking his cum, tears over and over of his seed. sex isn't for pleasure, it's only for procreation yet why did you and him need it.

your cunt felt that unfamiliar feeling. god! oh, heavenly father you needed to feel it. your hand gently touched his tip and leon whined weakly. his cheeks were red, his eyes were closed. they were going to hell. you closed your own eyes as you took off your lower clothes.

your cunt was wet and needy. "leon..." your eyes opened, "i don't know..." leon's hips buckled a bit, you noticed how pretty his body was. his black shirt was up to his tummy, his well defined body made you so stupidly weak. his happy trail... his cum.

you gently grabbed his cock and pressed his tip around your folds. leon whined louder. his tip was collecting all of your wetness, but when it touched your clit it was your turn to groan. neither you or leon had ever even masturbated. it was sin yet why? why? "leon..." your mind was thinking of hell as his tip found your hole. your cunt clenched pathetically.

leon couldn't even control his hands, his dumb sinful hands were wrapped around your rosary so it was just you slowly going down. it burns! the details of his cock were slowly forming a spot inside of you. your whines became louder. slowly and painfully, you sat on his cock. your mind was rotted, leon had never imagined your cunt to feel so good. tears poors from your eyes. you two were scared of god, every detail of god watching you two, but you couldn't stop.

you carefully took off the rosary from his arms, "i'm-" you were stumbling with your words, "i'm sorry." leon understood. this was new. his hand was on your hip, he was scared ro touch you more despite his needy cock deep in you.

now what?

leon's hand gently moved your hip closer. leon was gasping weakly, he found the code to make this work even more. he felt his heart beating fast as his hips moved up and down. your soft walls of your cunt clenched pathetic. leon won't last long. his other hand grabbed the back of your neck as he gasped weakly. your tears poured from your eyes, you were scared of hell. there was a reason why god made sex feel so good.

your eyes closed, you were trying to connect with god. you needed to apologize to god for having sex with your best friend. leon planted kisses on your jaw and neck and you pressed closer to him to him and leon cummed. you groan weakly, feeling his seed deep in you, but something was bothering you. you were still needy. you didn't cum.

[eddieschains]

My Good Boy

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

just a lil sub!eddie blurb tonight’s brain rot blessed me with. probably not the best but i did just bust it out in like 20 minutes so… be nice

Word Count: under 1k

TW// 18+, sub!eddie, rimming, spanking, pegging, bondage, let me know if i missed anything !!

Eddie was never as dominant as you’d like him to be. He tried his best, he really did. But it never translated just the way you wanted it to. You wanted him to slap you around, spank you, tie you up, treat you like a whore, but he really was just too sweet of a boy to do any of that for longer than 5 minutes.

One day, you got the idea to switch things up. Since he had a hard time asserting dominance in the bedroom, why don’t you give it a try? The night you brought it up, he was a lot more enthusiastic and willing than you ever imagined he would be. But you sure as hell weren’t going to complain.

You took a trip to the spicy store that night, and now here you were. Eddie was on all fours in front of you, his elbows digging into the pillow to keep himself up as you tongued at his little hole. The sounds coming out of him were pure heaven.

“God, I didn’t think this would feel so good.” He moans as he looks over his shoulder to find you staring right at him, both of your hands gripping on each ass cheek as you swirl and poke your tongue in and around him. You give him a soft spank which only makes him whimper even louder.

“Oh, you like that, baby? Like when I spank you?” Smack. You try a little harder, earning just the reaction you were hoping for.

You had gotten loads of different toys to try, although you didn’t anticipate using all of them tonight. That was until Eddie begged you to. Begged you to take control, tie him up, gag him, and most importantly… fuck him.

You took out the red strapped ball gag, placing it in his mouth and tightening it loose enough around his head so that you could still understand the words coming out of his mouth. You bought a pair of handcuffs, the pink fluffy ones of course. Eddie had handcuffs of his own, but you’d tried them before and they just didn’t do the job like these would.

You pull his wrists behind his back and lock the cuffs around them, pulling them slightly to make sure they wouldn’t slide off. And then it was time for the final act. The strap on. Never in a million years would you have thought you would own one of these, let alone be using it on your boyfriend, but there was always a first for everything.

You squirt the bottle of lube on the piece of plastic and some on your boyfriend, even though he was probably wet enough from your previous tongue fucking, you wanted to make sure.

“You sure you wanna do this, baby?” Eddie just lets out a few heavy breaths and whimpers as he nods back at you.

You line yourself up for him, sliding it in between his cheeks to tease him, causing him to groan in frustration. You let out a small chuckle as you slowly start to press the tip into him, stopping for a moment to let him adjust.

“Fuck…” He throws his head back as he pants, letting himself adjust before allowing you to go further.

You keep slowly pressing more and more inside of him until you’ve completely bottomed out. “Still okay, baby?”

“Shit… yes, yes. Fuck me, please.” His words are slightly muffled from the gag, which turns you on a lot more than you thought it would.

You pull out just slightly, before thrusting back in. You keep your movements slow as he still gets used to the feeling before you feel his body relax under you, giving you the courage to move faster.

You keep your hands on his hips just like he would with you, as you thrust into him harder each time, giving his ass a few spanks every now and then. The power you’re currently holding over him makes you moan nearly as loud as him.

“Can I cum, baby?” Eddie breathes out as you see his legs start to shake.

“I don’t know if you’ve been good enough for me to let you cum.” You respond with gritted teeth as you slam into him even harder.

“I’ve been so good for you, sweetheart. Please let me cum. Fuck!” His words are strained as he tries to hold off on his orgasm, but you know he won’t be able to hold it for much longer.

You spit in your hand and reach around him to stroke his cock as you continue to move in and out of him. “Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

His legs shake even harder as you feel his cock twitch in your hand. It only takes a few more thrusts from you before he’s shooting ropes of cum all over the mattress, with loud moans of your name. You stop your movements behind him but keep stroking him softly to help him ride out his orgasm before he goes completely limp, letting his body sink into the mattress.

“You did so good for me, baby. My good boy.”

[drgenius-reid]

A Creature Was Stirring

A/N: Merry Christmas @cumulo-stratus. May your holidays be filled with love and happiness. I hope you like this! 🎄 I wrote this as part of the @cmgiftexchange and had so much fun. Summary: Spencer hears his son sneak downstairs to see what Santa brought and he goes to investigate Pairing: Dad!Spencer  Category: Fluff  Content Warnings: None. Just pure cuteness.  Word Count: 1,279 

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, a creature was stirring, Spencer’s Little Mouse.

Spencer put his book down on his bedside table and waited silently for a few beats, trying to figure out if the footsteps he heard went to the bathroom or further down the hallway to the stairs. When he didn’t hear anything else for a few minutes, he decided to investigate. 

Unraveling himself from the blankets on the bed, he slipped his feet into his slippers–a bright pink pair that Penelope had gotten him for Secret Santa at work–so that his feet didn’t get cold on the tiled staircase, and headed towards the stairs. Making sure to miss the one step that creaked no matter how little weight you put onto it, he crept down the stairs and through the house until he got to the lounge door. 

The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon outside that shone brightly into the room, but Spencer could still see his son crouched on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, inspecting the gifts that lay there. Spencer had only been in bed after playing the role of Santa for ten minutes before he heard movement, a record in the Reid household. Once, when his son was only very little, he’d been caught red handed slipping presents under the tree. Thankfully the little one was too young to remember, much to Spencer's relief. 

Spencer watched silently as his son lifted one of the smaller gifts from the front of the tree and shook it close to his ear. His tongue poked out from between his lips and his eyebrows furrowed the same way that Spencer’s did when he was trying to decipher something at work. For all of the genetics his son had gotten from his mother, his brain and facial expressions came directly from Dr Reid. 

Spencer could tell that the young boy was trying to calculate which of the gifts he’d put on his letter to Santa was in the box in his hands. Whatever was inside the box rattled and confused the boy to no end. He shook the box again and again, trying to figure it out. However, he had asked for so much–he was the kind of child to see something and decide that instead of asking for it there and then, he would ask Santa to bring it for Christmas–that he couldn’t remember what he had asked for. 

Watching the young boy reminded Spencer of his younger self. When he was a child, he would often try to sneak down the stairs on Christmas Eve to see what gifts were under the tree. Until he was at the age where he would try to find the hiding spot where Diana kept all of the gifts until Christmas. When one year he was successful in finding them, Diana had to find a new spot, and she would wrap everything as soon as it was in the house so Spencer couldn’t look. 

The young boy looked at all of the gifts in awe, completely unaware that his father was behind him, watching him pick up multiple gifts and shake them to try and deduce their contents. If a gift had his name on, he would pick it up, turn it over in his hands to try and see if he could feel what it was. If he couldn’t feel anything, he would shake it before trying to put it back exactly where it was to start with, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up and find that Santa had been to take them all away again. 

The second his eyes landed on the big gift at the back of them all, they grew three times as wide as normal. In big letters, on the front, was his name. Spencer watched as he tried to reach over the rest of the gifts, knees threatening to give out on him, before he cleared his throat quietly. It was so quiet that Spencer was sure he’d have to do it again. 

But within a nanosecond his son turned to him, guilt ridden and sheepish as he sank back down onto his knees and sighed softly, his eyes not meeting Spencer’s at all. 

‘What are you doing down here, Little Mouse?’ Spencer asked through a breathy chuckle. ‘You’re supposed to be in bed asleep. It’s way past your bedtime.’ 

‘I really tried to sleep, Daddy. I promise I did. I was in bed with my eyes closed and I counted the elves like you told me to but I just couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. Then I heard footsteps and I heard  something downstairs so I hid under my blankets with my teddy bear and tried super hard to sleep. Then the noises stopped and I thought it might have been Santa and look, Daddy, it was! Santa came and he brought presents for me. He brought some for you and mommy too but that big one is mine! I just wanted to look at them all. I promise I wasn’t going to open any.’ 

The corners of Spencer’s lips turned up as he listened to his son. He took after his dad in all of the best ways. He was smart, and he loved with his entire heart. And he rambled just like Spencer, unable to control it. Unlike Spencer, however, his little one got involved in things at school, he had a large group of friends and he loved playing baseball and soccer too. But deep down, he was so much like Spencer. 

When the little boy finally looked up at his dad and saw the smile, the same one made its way to his lips. Spencer motioned for him to walk over to him, and he did, slowly standing up so that he didn’t crush any presents before he walked the length of the lounge. As soon as he was within reaching distance, Spencer scooped him up and spun him around, eliciting the most infectious giggles there ever was. 

Spencer laughed with his son before he held him firmly against his hip. At almost six years old, his son was getting far too big to be carried up the stairs still but Spencer had promised to do it for as long as he could, which meant that even though his son was perfectly capable of walking up the stairs himself, he was carried. 

‘Come on, it’s time for bed. We can get up early and open presents with Mommy. But if you don’t go to sleep now-’ 

‘Santa will come and take them all away!’ 

Spencer chuckled. ‘He won’t take them all away, I promise. But if you don’t go to sleep you’re going to be super tired tomorrow and you’re not going to want to open presents.’ 

‘I am!’ 

‘We’ll see about that.’ 

Before Spencer even got to his son’s room, the boy was asleep in his arms, cheek squished against Spencer’s shoulder and mouth slightly agape. Spencer pushed the door open with his free hip and quietly crept through the room, hoping to not stand on any toy that would make a noise and wake everyone in the house up. 

Laying the boy down in his bed and pulling the covers up to his shoulders, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

‘Merry Christmas, Little Mouse.’ 

From underneath him, he heard the tiniest, ‘Merry Christmas, Daddy,’ which made his insides turn to mush. 

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even Spencer’s Little Mouse.

[an-insignificant-flower]

Namonaki Watashi

名も無き = lit. "without a name," pre-noun adjective that can mean "anonymous," "ordinary," or—as I believe befits this song—"insignificant". Notably, 無き is an older form of ない, but while the latter functions as a complete clause, the former requires a noun follow it.

Verse 1

一雫雨を　一雫ください hitoshizuku ame wo　hitoshizuku kudasai 一雫愛を　一雫ください hitoshizuku ai wo　hitoshizuku kudasai

One drop of rain, please give me one drop One drop of love, please give me one drop

The dictionary puts 一滴 (いってき, alternatively ひとしずく) as more common than 一雫 (ひとしずく). However, the latter seems to be more literary, used for sake labels, restaurants, and a 2002 hit song by the female J-pop group, Zone.

Additionally, 雫 is distinctly a kokuji, or "country character," one of Japan's creations without a Chinese equivalent. It's purely hieroglyphic as such, literally depicting that which falls from a cloud.

Prechorus 1

名も　無い　わたしは　あなたと　出会いました namonai watashi wa　anata to deaimashita 名も　無い　わたしにも　蝶や　風や　夢が‥ namonai watashi ni mo　chou ya kaze ya yume ga...

I, who am insignificant, met you (for the first time) Even I, who am also insignificant, (the) butterflies, (the) wind, (the) dream...

Sakurai uses the older form of Namonaki in the title only, but uses the more modern form in the lyrics themselves. In the Japanese, the difference is extremely subtle, with only one phoneme changing from -ki to -i. The grammatical implication in English is far more clumsy, but worth exploring to see the difference: The title reads "Insignificant Me" while the lyrics read "I, who am insignificant,..."

The line ends with ellipses, leaving the thought unfinished, and the use of ya for "and" implying the list is only a part of all that is in the scene give the verse an impressionistic feel.

Chorus

狂い咲く　花たちよ　今は　咲き乱れよ kuruizaku hana-tachi yo　ima wa sak'mi dare yo 狂い咲く　命共　乱れ　乱れ　乱れ kuruizaku inochi domo　midare, midare, midare

Fellow flowers blooming out of season, bloom profusely now! Fellow flowers blooming out of season, together live wild, wild, wild!

I adore the use of kuruizaku here. Of course, kuruu is a familiar verb in Buck-Tick's lyrics, whether it refers to going mad with love or at the state of the world or simply "going crazy." Here it's used in a set phrase referring to off-season blooming. And as with kemono-tachi (from "Beasts of Night"), the narrator includes himself among those he is speaking to: outcasts and others who "don't fit in."

Sakimidare, another set phrase, lends itself to the imagery of endless fields of blooming flowers so thick that you can't see the green leaves beneath them, or even the peak day of cherry blossom season when the world is awash in pink.

I've used an apostrophe unconventionally here to refer to Sakurai's pronunciation. The word has five full mora (sa-ki-mi-da-re), but Sakurai sings it in four (sa-k'mi-da-re). I actually could not make it out in the album version of the song; only upon listening to the "Taiyo to Ikarosu" B-side at high volume could I hear the separate consonants distinctly fitted into one note.

As a lone verb midareru means "falling into disarray," but as a repeated call lends itself better to "lapsing into chaos," and I was tempted to choose "riot" as a command due to the character's more direct translation. However, following the previous line with the set phrase sakimidare, there is an implication that it attaches itself to inochi domo the same way, meaning a closer translation might be, "together, live exuberantly." Think Carpe diem ("Seize the day") with the raving enthusiasm of Scrooge on Christmas morning.

Verse 2

ありがとう　愛を　陽だまりの　日々を arigatou　ai wo　hidamari no hibi wo 一輪の　花を　髪飾り　君に ichirin no hana wo　kamikazari kimi ni

Thank you, for the love, for day after day in the sun For the single flower adoring your hair

Prechorus 2

名も　無い　わたしに　あなた　と　お別れ　来た namonai watashi ni　anata to o-wakare kita 名も　無い　わたしにも　赤や　黄の　夢が‥ namonai watashi ni mo　aka ya ki no yume ga...

You and I, who am insignificant, bid farewell Even I, who am insignificant, (the) red and yellow dream...

Although the lyrics imply simply that the flower speaking (perhaps the very one in the listener's hair from the previous line) was discarded, it's hard to listen to this line as one of the last lyrics in the last song presented to us on Sakurai's last recorded album.

As before, ya implies there are more colors, though red and yellow are noteworthy for the line. I don't know whether it was intentional, but it calls back the first line of "Gessekai": Aka ki iro himawari, "red, yellow sunflowers".

Instrumental Bridge Chorus Chorus

Sakurai often wrote lyrics from the point of view of a particular character in his mind, performing a role on stage. However, I am tempted to read this one assuming less use of the figurative mask. It seems very in his character to express such humility, to refer to his fans (and/or his family, as I have also suspected of other songs of his) as the source of his sunshine and objects of his gratitude, and to plead us all to live our lives to our fullest.

[greenwitchcrafts]

April 2024 witch guide

Full moon: April 23rd

New moon: April 8th

Solar eclipse: April 8th

Sabbats: None

April Pink Moon

Known as: Breaking Ice Moon, Budding Moon of Plants & shrubs, Budding Tree Moon, Eastermonath, Frog Moon, Green Grass Moon, Growing Moon, Hare Moon, Moon of the Red Grass appearing, Moon When Geese Lay Egss, Moon When thd Ducks Come Back, Ostarmanoth, Planters Moon, Seed Moon, Sucker Moon & Wind Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aries & Taurus

Nature spirits: Plant Faeries

Deities: Anahita, Bast, Ceres, Cernunnos, Hathor, Herne, Ishtar, Kali, Tawaret & Venus

Animals: Bear & wolf

Birds:  Hawk & magpie

Trees: Bay, forsythia, hazel, lilac, pine & willow

Herbs:  Basil, chives, dandelion, dill, dogwood, dragon's blood, fennel, geranium, milkweed & thistle

Flowers: Daisy & sweetpea

Scents: Bay, bergamot, patchouli & pine

Stones: Angelite, beryl, diamond, garnet, malachite, quartz, ruby, sapphire, sard, selenite & zircon

Colors: Blue, brown, crimson, gold & green

Energy: Authority, balance, beginnings, change, fertility, growth, leadership, opportunities, overcoming obstacles, personal skill development, re-birth, self-evaluation, self-reliance, spirituality, temper control & willpower

April’s full Moon often corresponded with the early springtime blooms of a certain wildflower native to eastern North America: Phlox subulata—commonly called creeping phlox or moss phlox—which also went by the name “moss pink.” Thanks to this seasonal association, this full Moon came to be called the “Pink” Moon.

Other celebrations:

• Walpurgis Night - April 30th

Also known as: May Eve

The origins of the holiday date back to pagan celebrations of fertility rites & the coming of spring. After the Norse were Christianized, the pagan celebration became combined with the legend of St. Walburga, an English-born nun who lived at Heidenheim monastery in Germany & later became the abbess there. Saint Walpurga was hailed by the Christians of Germany for battling "pest, rabies, & whooping cough as well as against witchcraft". Christians prayed to God through the intercession of Saint Walpurga in order to protect themselves from witchcraft, as Saint Walpurga was successful in converting the local populace to Christianity. Although it is likely that the date of her canonization is purely coincidental to the date of the pagan celebrations of spring, people were able to celebrate both events under church law without fear of reprisal.

Walpurgis Night is still a traditional holiday celebrated on April 30th in northern Europe & Scandinavia. In Sweden typical holiday activities include the singing of traditional spring folk songs & the lighting of bonfires. In Germany the holiday is celebrated by dressing in costumes, playing pranks on people & creating loud noises meant to keep evil at bay. Many people also hang blessed sprigs of foliage from houses & barns to ward off evil spirits, or they leave pieces of bread spread with butter & honey, called ankenschnitt, as offerings for phantom hounds.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[goldfades]

adam fantilli has a size kink

✮"𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬!", adam fantilli

♡ ─ word count | 700 words

♡ ─ warnings | unedited, pure nsfw under the cut! lots of teasing, size kink (who woulda thought?), just filthy smut LMAO

♡ ─ taglist |

♡ ─ ev's notes | THANK YOU CELESTE, SIZE KINK AND ADAM WILL NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME SCREAM! also as we all have figured out, i'm terrible with titles so let's just pretend that it's a good one. i'm not gonna lie i don't know if i did this any justice, this is straight up filth i forgot to incorporate a lot of size kink in there LOL. none the less it's an adam fic, y'all should be grateful bc we are all living off CRUMBS.

Adam's hand laid right on top of your bare stomach, admiring your body. You were laying on your back as Adam watched your carefully, slowly drawing circles on your stomach. His hand almost covers the entirety of your stomach and no matter how long you'd been dating, it will never not turn him on.

"Fuck, princess." Adam breathed out as he gazed at your body, his eyes settling on your pretty face. "You're beautiful."

His hand left your soft and you let out a whimper of disapproval, you needed his touch now. "Shh, it's okay baby. Give me a second."

He spread your legs further and quickly settled in between them and you watched him through your lashes, becoming more desperate by the second. "Please, Adam." You whined.

"I know baby, I know. Just wanna take my time with my pretty girl, gonna make you feel so good." He spoke softly but it went one in and out the other, you wanted him to fuck you stupid, now.

You were soaking wet already and Adam had barely touched you, you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so desperate. He had already stretched you out with his fingers so you would be able to take him and now, you were just waiting for him to hurry up and fuck you.

Finally, as if he had read your mind, Adam grabbed his cock and let out a groan, his head falling back. He was so painfully hard, his pink tip leaking pre-cum as he gave himself a few pumps.

He led his cock slowly into you, stretching you out perfectly. You gripped the sheets, your cunt burning at the sensation. He let out a sigh of relief as he entered you, making you clench around him. He wasn't even halfway inside you yet and you already felt completely full.

"Can't take it," you mumbled out non-coherently, your mind being completely on Adam and the way he was making you feel.

"Have a little more trust baby, you can take it." He groaned as he moved your legs up on his shoulders, then put one of his hands on your hips, the other going to clutch your hand. "You got it, sweetheart."

He slowly bottomed you out, making you squirm under him. You felt him all the way in your stomach as he held himself there for a few seconds, letting adjust. You couldn't help but whine under him, gripping his hand. Adam looked down and saw the bulge right in your lower stomach, he immediately moved his hand on top of it and pushed down softly, making you arch.

"Adam!" You moaned out in pleasure, your eyes beginning to tear up from all teasing he'd done previously.

"Doing so good for me, baby. So fucking good." Adam kneeled down and gave you a sloppy kiss before he started to fuck into you, swallowing all yours moans, your head falling back in utter pleasure.

As he fucked you into the mattress, your legs had already began to shake on his shoulders from the impact. You couldn't even think straight, you didn't have anything in your head right now; you were only here, in this present moment.

"Told ya you can take it, baby." He groaned as he thrusted into you, his hands on your hips, pushing you down into the mattress. "Good fucking girl," he punctuated with each thrust.

He missed you so much, with being gone so often now he barely had time for you so he had to make sure anytime he'd gotten with you, he puts it to good use. He couldn't even focus, you were so warm and fit him perfectly, he was convinced you were made for him.

His once calculated and deep thrusts turned messy and sporadic but you didn't care, it felt so fucking good. It felt like the whole room was shaking at the impact as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

You felt the pressure in your lower stomach build up and it finally snapped, hitting you like ton of bricks. Your whole body spasmed as you let out a borderline pornographic moan, gripping Adam's hand as a way to ground yourself. He came as soon as you did, spilling into you. He immediately fell down on top of you, breathing heavily.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[dotster001]

May I request a headcannon about Sectoral heterochromia!MC that always hid their eyes with a mask (the one that Gojo wears) and one day they are ready to show their eyes to their lover

W/ Riddle,Azul,Rook,Vil,Lilia

(Their eye colours are mint green and pink Or you could make them Purple and yellow)

(okay, I looked up Gojo and his eyes are so pretty, I can't 😭 also, if there is an oc behind this....I wanna meet them please and thank you 😊)

There's not many things that Lilia hasn't seen. But he understands that compared to him you are quite young,  and you haven't had the time he has had to get used to your own skin. So he's willing to wait. He knows you'll show him your beautiful eyes when you are ready.

And one day, you are. You're having a cuddle session, and Lilia is whispering enough affirmations to you that there is no world where you can't feel loved.  And when you're timid voice speaks up and says you're ready to show him your eyes, he has to do his best not to let out an excited shout so that he doesn't scare you off.

He is immediately distracted by your pink eye when the mask comes off. He has pink eyes! It's like you're destined to be together! You can't help but laugh about how excited he is about that, which sets him spiraling off on how your mint green eye is just as good because the thorn fairy loves green! 

Again, there is no way you can feel unloved when you're with this man. A part of you thinks it's silly that you ever felt self conscious, before he sees that thought cross your face, and tells you that it's alright, that was just your nervous system protecting itself can you tell I'm doing parts work in therapy lmao and that it is okay for you to protect yourself that way. There is nothing to be ashamed of.

Immediately wants to go back to the cuddle session. Don't get him wrong, he's really excited that you guys took this step forward together, but he is starting to get chilly again since you took a break from cuddling.

He's a little sheltered, let's be real. So when you tell him why you wear the mask all the time, he wants to tell you that he won't stare, but he can't be certain. He knows he'll love you no matter what, but still, he's not sure if you'd be comfortable with him staring.

So it's a growth thing for both of you. You both need to be ready for it. Riddle takes the time to get used to the idea, and you take the time to trust that Riddle isn't going to leave you or get scared of you over something like this. (He won't. He knows this. He loves you too much. But he won't push you on it.) 

When both of you are ready, you do your best to make it as normal as possible (but both of you are nervous, so it's still a little stiff). The idea was you'd have a tea party at Ramshackle, where Riddle would arrive and the mask would already be off. Easy peasy.

Riddle knew he would stare. But he didn't expect that the staring would be from how beautiful your eyes were. Both of them are practically glittering like jewels. He tears up a little, once he realizes how amazing it is to see his true love's eyes for the first time. It's like he is falling in love all over again.

After he assured you he's crying from happiness, you go back to your tea party. You do your best to stop your heart from fluttering whenever you catch Riddle staring at you with pure love and adoration.

He wishes he had some authority to give you advice on. He wishes he could offer some way to help you build your confidence up… but considering he calls his past "the forbidden lore" he has absolutely no authority. So he'll just have to wait until you are ready.

Also, prior to you dating, when you showed up in his life, he may or may not have had Jade look into you for business purposes, and you may or may not have never forgotten that, even though you know full well that he no longer needs blackmail or a use a contract to get you to do what he wants.

So it takes a bit of time for you to be ready to show him your eyes. To him, you are perfect in every way so there's nothing to worry about, but again, he has absolutely no authority in the manner. 

One day he offers a trade. He shows you his true form, if you show him your eyes. He even has a contract and everything, where if the day comes and either of you isn't ready, you can wait a little longer. But he thinks that if you both show your true selves at the same time, it might be easier.

So during the winter break, when Azul is certain there won't be many people on campus, you both go to one of the Octavinelle tanks, and he holds a potion, while you hold the corner of your mask. It's a "rip off the band-aid on three" kind of thing, and once you have both "transformed", it's very quiet in there.

You're struck with how beautiful he is. He's self conscious about this form? But he's so gorgeous! How can that be? Meanwhile he's having the exact same thoughts about you.

You both say, "You're so beautiful!" At the exact same time, and now you're both flustered. It's pretty cute actually, you're both acting like bashful young lovers and trying to one up each other on the compliments. And both of you end up coming to a new conclusion

It doesn't matter what the rest of the world thinks of you, because the one who matters most thinks you're perfect.

This guy. *Sighs*

He lives to compliment people. It's his favorite part of being Le chasseur d’amour! He wants to compliment all of you, and this includes what he is positive are "the most beautiful eyes to ever grace any world".  Most of the people on this list will let you do things on your own time. Rook Hunt is not most people.

He wants to read you like a book, and the eyes are the windows to the soul, non? Perhaps just a peak. He won't ask again! He promises he will be content if he just gets a peak.

Like Lilia, there's no world you can feel unloved with Rook. But his tactic here seems to be to annoy you enough that you forget that you are self conscious. And Rook is pretty good at strategy, so this plan is actually working.  

"This moment would be most merveilleux if I could see the emotions that your mask hides from me."

"You are a cruel lover to deny me your radiant gaze."

"If I were your mask, I should cherish every moment that I got to behold your visage."

One day, you are in the midst of  what is currently up to thirty minutes of a monologue on how "nothing would give my heart more joy than to be blessed with your holy gaze but once" when you just…rip off the mask.

What you don't expect is his hands immediately caressing your face as he kisses you with more passion than he ever has before (which is saying a lot, he's been written up for excessive pda multiple times at Pomefiore events he'd taken you to). When his mouth isn't on you he is breathlessly whispering about how "your godlike gaze is almost too much for this mortal being" and "Je peux mourir heureux maintenant que j'ai regardé le soleil."

You want to tell him to shut the fuck up, you're annoyed with him, but he's so passionate, and now you're getting all flustered and caught up in the moment, and you're forgetting what was happening a moment ago. The mask has a tendency to vanish from here on out. And the perfect hunter has no idea where it is. How strange! 😲

What Vil really wants is to know that the outfits he has designed for you will match your eyes. But he supposes that as long as they matched the mask it would be alright.

If you are okay with him doing your makeup, you'll hear him huff everytime he gets to the part where he'd normally do the eye makeup, but aside from that, he won't say anything. 

He knows that his presence and beauty can be intimidating (Rook's words) and on top of that he knows that being his partner gets you some negative attention from some of his crazy fans. He gets that it has to be so easy for you to feel insecure about your eyes not matching. So, one day, he sits you down and takes your hand, and tells you that if you never are comfortable, that's fine. He'll support you.

He even designs masks for you. They are some of his favorite creations because his favorite person wears them. On a selfish note, they are a mark to everyone that you chose him.

He's so honored and flustered when you tell him that you won't wear the mask to the ceremony for the award he won. Honestly, he tears up a little, but he blots that away quickly, since he ran out of waterproof mascara yesterday. Asks if you are comfortable with Rook seeing your eyes first so that he can design the outfit and it'll be a surprise on the day. Like he'll get to fall in love with you all over again…or you know, whatever, he's just spitballing here.

If the answer is no, he will still be just as flustered when he picks you up at your door in the outfit he designed for you without seeing your eyes. Seeing your entire face, watching those eyes light up as they take him in, it's everything for him. 

He's so proud when he receives his award, and gives a tear jerking speech where he thanks you for your love and support.  Everytime someone comes up to congratulate him, he goes on and on about how beautiful you look tonight, and how happy he is to have you in his life. It's the human side of Vil no one usually gets to see, and that night, everyone there sees you as the perfect being that Vil does. 

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic

[tsunael]

If there's anyone out there that cares about flower language and symbolism like I do, I made an informal write-up some time ago about the in-game flowers (that you can put in your house) and the different symbolism that they can mean.

I only included the symbolism for the in-game colors and also their general meaning.

Also as a disclaimer these could be incorrect, have contrasting meanings, or have different meanings in different real-world cultures. White chrysanthemums (kiku) are usually a funeral flower in Japan for instance. (My Japanese professor once said they were a faux pas for her to receive in a bouquet!) So your mileage may vary!

Now with added sunflower.

This was simply a fun personal project I made for myself that I thought other people might enjoy as well! So here's a question to answer in the tags:

What flowers would your WoL have in their residence?

Arums (calla lily) 🔷magnificent beauty, feminine modesty

Brightlilies (easter lily) 🔷purity, refined beauty 🔷White: virginity, purity, majesty 🔷Pink: wealth and prosperity 🔷Red: warmth, desire 🔷Yellow: gaiety, falsehood, "I’m walking on air" 🔷Orange: hatred

Campanulas (bellflower) 🔷humility, constancy

Chrysanthemum   🔷cheerfulness, "You’re a wonderful friend" 🔷Red: I love you 🔷White: truth 🔷Yellow: slighted love

Cosmos 🔷harmony, peace, modesty, "the joys that love and life can bring", beautiful

Dahlias 🔷dignity, elegance

Daisies 🔷innocence, beauty

Lilies of the Valley 🔷return of happiness, sweetness, humility, purity

Oldrose 🔷Red: I love you, love, beauty, passion, romance 🔷Blue: mystery, attaining the impossible, love at first sight 🔷White: innocence and purity, "I am worthy of you", reverence 🔷Yellow: decrease of love, jealousy, friendship

Shroud Cherries (cherry blossom) 🔷spiritual beauty, a good education

Tulips 🔷perfect lover, fame 🔷Red: declaration of love, true love, eternal love, romantic love, "believe me" 🔷Yellow: hopeless love, unrequited love, brightness, sunshine 🔷White: ask for forgiveness, purity 🔷Purple: royalty

Hyacinths 🔷sports, games, rashness 🔷Purple: I am sorry, sorrow, "please forgive me" 🔷Red: play 🔷White: loveliness, "I’ll pray for you" 🔷Blue: constancy, sincerity 🔷Yellow: jealousy

Hydrangeas 🔷heartlessness, boastfulness, "You are cold"

Morning Glories 🔷love in vain, affection

Violas (violets) 🔷modesty, faithfulness 🔷Purple: daydreaming, "You occupy my thoughts" 🔷Blue: watchfulness, love 🔷White: candor, innocence 🔷Yellow: rural happiness

Byregotia (begonia?) 🔷Beware

Carnation 🔷fascination, love, distinction 🔷Red: "My heart aches for you", deep love, admiration 🔷White: sweet and lovely, innocence, pure love 🔷Yellow: "You have disappointed me", rejection, disdain 🔷Purple: capriciousness, changeable

Moth Orchid 🔷love, beauty, refinement, beautiful lady

Sweet Pea 🔷departure, good-bye, delicate pleasure, tender memory, blissful pleasure

Triteleia 🔷 They're a North American wildflower also called 'triplet lilies' or 'Ithuriel's spear' which is a reference to John Milton's epic English poem, Paradise Lost. It's about an angel sent by Gabriel to find Satan in the Garden of Eden. Satan, in the form of a toad, is introducing evil suggestions into the ear of Eve when Ithuriel pokes him with a spear. Satan then returns to his true form, "... for no falsehood can endure Touch of Celestial temper, but returns Of force to its own likeness."

So, I can't find any symbolism for this one. Would make a possibly good Halone/Ishgard reference if you wanted to read into it, though.

Sunflower 🔷 Haughtiness, respect, passionate love, adoration, radiance.

[pupsmailbox]

ANGELIC︰DEVINE ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abel. acher. achille. adam. adrien. adélie. aelin. alaida. alexis. alice. alya. ambroise. amelia. amour. ana. anahera. andras. angaile. ange. angel. angela. angelesse. angelette. angelica. angelina. angeline. angelique. angelissa. angelita. angeliza. angella. angelo. angelus. angelyna. angie. angé. angélique. anna. antoine. apolline. ariel. astrid. aurora. aurore. azazel. baal. behemoth. berrie. bethany. blaise. blanche. blanchesse. blanchette. blushe. bowette. cain. caleb. camille. capucine. carmen. cary. casimir. cassandra. cassiel. castiel. cathy. celeste. celestine. celine. cerberus. cerise. charmeine. cher. cherie. cherub. choirette. christian. christine. chérie. cielo. claire. claude. cloud. cloudisse. cynthia. cyril. daisy. damien. damon. danni. dina. divina. divinesse. divinette. divinne. donovan. dova. dulcengel. eden. elena. elouan. elysia. emmy. engel. enzo. erebus. eryn. estelle. esther. evangelina. evangeline. evangelista. eve. faith. felix. fiacre. fleur. fortune. francette. francis. gabriel. gabriella. gaby. gemini. genesis. ghoul. giselle. godefrey. grace. gwenaël. halo. heartette. heather. heaven. heavenelle. heavenesse. hel. helena. henri. hera. honoré. hyacinthe. icha. isaac. isabelle. isidore. jacques. jade. jennifer. jin. jocelyn. jordan. joseph. josephina. julia. kage. karine. kasdeya. katie. kenzo. keres. kilian. lacey. lambise. lamia. laura. leila. leilani. levi. leviathan. liam. lightion. lilia. lilin. lilith. lola. louis. lucia. lucien. lucifer. léo. madeleine. madeline. malachi. malvina. mal’akhi. marc. mare. marie. marin. marine. mary. mateo. maxime. melantha. michael. michelangelo. michelle. minerva. mirabelle. morgan. moros. nadia. narcisse. nazaire. nicholas. noah. noelle. octave. océane. odin. olivia. onyx. ophelia. orpheus. pheobe. pinkette. pinkion. piérre. priscilla. prosper. rainier. ramiel. raphael. ravana. raymond. robin. rogue. rosaire. roxxane. ruby. rue. ruelle. rémi. sabel. salome. salomon. samael. samuel. sara. sephora. sephtis. sera. seraph. seraphim. seraphina. seraphine. serenity. seth. skye. soan. softetta. sol. sonata. sophia. soraya. strawbette. sugarette. sylvain. sylvianne. séraphin. tatiana. theodore. timothee. tristan. uriel. ursula. valentine. valerie. venetia. vera. victor. victoria. victorien. vionetta. virtue. vivian. vivien. willow. wingette. wolf. xavier. xela. yann. yasmine. yvette. zacharie. zoe. ángel. ánxela. éloi. étienne.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abo/above. adore/adore. ae/ae. ae/aer. an/angel. angel/angel. angelic/angelic. arch/angel. archangel/archangel. arrow/arrow. aura/aura. ay/aym. ballet/ballet. beau/beau. beauty/beauty. being/being. beloved/beloved. black/black. bless/bless. bless/blessing. blessing/blessing. bloom/bloom. blue/blue. bow/bow. broke/broken. bun/bun. celeste/celestial. celestial/celestial. cher/cher. cherub/cherub. cherub/cherubim. chirp/chirp. choir/choir. clou/cloud. cloud/cloud. cold/cold. cross/cross. crown/crown. cu/cupid. cupid/cupid. curse/curse. dark/dark. deity/deity. delicate/delicate. div/divine. div/divinity. divine/divine. dove/dove. drift/drift. empty/empty. er/ero. ero/ero. ethe/ethereal. ethereal/ethereal. ey/eyr. fai/faith. faith/faith. fall/fall. fall/fallen. fate/fate. faun/fauna. feather/feather. flight/flight. float/float. flower/flower. fluff/fluff. fly/flight. fly/fly. glow/glow. gold/gold. grace/grace. gra/grace. grudge/grudge. hae/haer. ha/halo. halo/halo. harp/harp. he/hym. hea/heaven. heal/heal. heart/heart. heaven/heaven. heaven/heavenly. hell/hell. hol/holy. holy/holy. hush/hush. hx/hxm. hy/hym. hymn/hymn. id/idol. ix/ix. kind/kind. kyr/kyr. lace/lace. lamb/lamb. life/life. light/light. lo/love. lyr/lyr. lyre/lyre. melancholy/melancholy. metallic/metallic. mirror/mirror. mist/mist. misty/misty. mon/mon. moral/moral. omen/omen. peace/peace. perfect/perfection. pink/pink. pure/pure. pure/purr. radiant/radiant. ribbon/ribbon. rose/rose. sacred/sacred. saint/saint. scept/scepter. self/self. ser/seraph. seraph/seraph. seraph/seraphim. shimmer/shimmer. shine/shining. shx/hxr. silk/silk. sin/sin. sing/song. sky/sky. smite/smite. snake/snake. snow/snow. soar/soaring. soft/soft. somber/somber. sorrow/sorrow. spark/sparkle. spirit/spirit. sugar/sugar. swan/swan. sweet/sweet. taint/taint. tether/tether. thorn/thorn. thxy/thxm. thy/thyn. tru/trumpet. unholy/unholy. unknown/unknown. vae/vaer. val/valentine. vio/vior. water/water. white/white. wi/wing. wing/wing. wraith/wraith. wrath/wrath. yellow/yellow. ðe/ðim. þe/þim. ȝe/ȝim. ☀️ . ☁️ . ⛪ . ✨ . ⭐ . 🐑 . 👁️ . 👼 . 🕊️ . 🕯️ . 😇 . 🤍 . 🦢.