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thesassypadawan · 10 months ago

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Beloved Master (Unburnt Darth Vader x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: After a traumatic series of events, you find yourself being held captive by the sith lord known as Darth Vader. Alone and unarmed, you wish so badly for your beloved master to be here with you. Be careful of what you wish for.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.Size difference, hint of a breeding kink, and Vader’s big dick. Padawan reader is of age.

Notes: The 'What If' Version: Beloved Master *Fragmented*

Part 2: Beloved Husband

This is a non-burnt Vader fic. Everything is still intact and has been ‘enhanced’ by the dark side of the force.

“Now behave yourself, jedi, the lord will be with you shortly.” The male attendant sneered, taking great joy in your current predicament.

Standing there, wearing nearly nothing; you tried your best to maintain what little dignity you had left. You gave him a small nod and muttered a quick thanks, before stepping inside the room.

“Try not to have too much fun,” he chuckled darkly and closed the door behind him.

Hearing the locks hiss into place, you began to reflect on the events that led up to this moment.

It had only been a few nights ago that you stood in the temple’s meditation garden. Waiting patiently for your beloved master to return from an ‘emergency meeting’. When your private comlink was hailed, his voice ringing out from it. “Run. Run swiftly. Run to me.”

Everything was fragmented and hazy after that.

The night sky was orange. There were cries of agony and pain all around you. The temple, your home, was engulfed in flames.

You felt utterly hopeless. Worried horribly about your master. Completely devastated at the thought of not saying those words to him one last time.

You tried to run, but someone tugged hard on your arm. Yelling at you to come with them, to ignore his call. Something happened to that someone in a blaze of blue light.

You were no longer being pulled, but carried away from the chaos. Being whispered to that it was ‘all going to be okay, you’re safe’.

That’s when your whole world went dark.

When you awoke, you found yourself locked up in a holding cell. Dressed in the most ridiculous outfit you have ever seen. One that left very little to the imagination.

You did not remain there long. Soon after, the male attendant had arrived. He, along with a pair of clone troopers, then escorted you swiftly to their lord’s private quarters. Apparently, this Vader fellow wanted to have an audience with you rather badly.

It was with this grim thought in mind that the weight of your situation truly set in.

You were alone. Stuck on an unknown planet, which you could feel was entirely encompassed in the dark side of the force. You were without your saber, it’s comforting presence no longer hanging from your hip. And, most gravely, you were about to presumably meet a sith lord.

Scanning your surroundings, you hoped to find something you could possibly use to defend yourself. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the lavish bed chamber that would provide much help.

You heard the door behind you slide open and then close.

Swallowing hard, you tried to compose yourself. Your master had always said to keep your wits about you when facing down an enemy. To stay centered within the force. To keep your mind clear.

How you so wished he was here with you now.

“I am, padawan of mine.”

Your eyes grew wide. “Master?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Is that really you?”

Not waiting for an answer, you quickly whirled around. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over you. Standing before you, a gentle smile on his face, was…

“It’s me”, Anakin muttered.

Without a second thought you ran to him. And he easily scooped you up into his strong arms.

Burying your face into his tunic; you finally let the hot tears flow free. “Ani, it was horrible!” You sobbed softly.

Stroking your hair, he gently swayed back and forth with you. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s all over.”

You squeezed him tight and whimpered. “I thought I had lost you.”

“Hey, look at me.” Hooking two fingers under your chin, he tilted your face upwards. “We’re never going to lose each other.”

Placing his hand on your cheek, he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. “I made sure that we will always be together…no matter what,” he said malevolently.

Hearing his tone, it was as if you were suddenly released from sort of spell. Anakin was no longer the same, in oh so many ways.

His entire form had changed. He once only stood a head and a half taller, and now he absolutely dwarfed you. His hands were huge. His muscles blown enormous. He looked like an absolute beast, with yellow eyes and a heavy dark aura to match.

Maker, help you. He was the sith lord and you were finding it hard to resist him.

“Ani,” you spoke slowly, reaching to place a tiny hand on his chiseled chest. “What have you done?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, angel,” he replied nonchalantly. “I did what was necessary.”

Tightening his arm around your waist, he somehow pulled you in even closer. “You should be more worried about what I’m going to do to you in that outfit,” he whispered huskily.

A small squeak escaped you as you were suddenly swept off your feet and whisked over to the bed.

Trapped underneath him, it truly sunk in how utterly massive he had become…and how tiny you were in comparison. You shivered at the thought. Whether it was from fear or excitement, you weren’t quite sure.

“What is it, padawan?” He chuckled, hovering above menacingly. “Afraid of your master?”

You shuddered once more as Anakin brushed his clothed length against your inner thigh. Stars, he felt gigantic. “No, master,” you whimpered.

A wide grin spread across his handsome face. “Good, because this is where the fun begins.”

He crashed his lips into yours. The kiss was hungry and passionate. The kind that made you wrap your arms around his thick neck and desperately pulled him closer, deepening it.

You could hear a rumble of approval in his chest. The sound causes a warmth to spread throughout your entire body.

Parting for air, Anakin gave you a mischievous look before burying his face into your neck. He kissed and bit at the sensitive flesh. Making you purr. Marking you as his for all to see.

His hand, all the while, lazily slid down your form. Coming to rest on your breast, he cupped and gave it a firm squeeze. Eliciting a soft moan from you.

“I love the sounds you make for me,” he muttered against your skin.

“Ani,” you mewled, hands tangling in his golden curls.

“I wonder,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your body. “What kind you’ll make when I do this?”

“Kriff!” You cried out as his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. Sucking and nibbling at it through the paper-thin fabric. Causing your back to arch, your hips glancing one another in a fiery touch. You both groaned.

“Or better yet,” he whispered, sitting back on his legs. “What delicious sound will escape you when I do this?” With the wave of his two fingers, Anakin used the force to…

You let out a frightened squeal as the meager clothes were torn from your form. Instinctively you tried to cover yourself up with your hands, but he easily captured them in his much large one.

Pinning your arms above your head, he playfully scolded. “Now, now, don’t be shy. Let me see that beautiful body, little one.”

That name, it made you shiver. You could feel the dampness and you both knew it had shot straight to your soaking core.

“Oh? You liked that didn’t you?” He taunted, running his other big hand up and down your leg.

Wriggling beneath him, your cheeks burned hot. “I-I did, master,” you replied weakly.

He laughed darkly at your embarrassment and gave your hip a firm squeeze. “Tell me, tiny padawan of mine, what else would you like?”

“Your cock,” you whimpered. “I would like your cock inside of me.”

“Are you sure about that?” He mocked, flashing you a smirk.

Anakin used the force once more. This time removing his own clothes. Revealing…

Your eyes widened and your mouth went dry. He was absolutely massive, a true monster. And yet, you wanted him oh so badly.

“Please!” You begged; your voice laced with need. “Want it!”

“I don’t know.” He laid his heavy cock on your pussy, dragging it slowly between your folds. “You were barely able to take me before I became like this. Aren’t you afraid of what will happen now?”

You moaned softly as you found yourself slipping into a haze. “Don’t care! Need it!”

Suddenly, he removed all friction. You were about to whine in protest, until you felt him lining himself up with your entrance.

“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

In a single, fluid motion, he pushed inside of you.

The two of hissed together, as you took every thick inch.

“So tight,” he growled as he bottomed out.

“So big,” you mewled. Relishing how full it made you feel. How his tip was dangerously pressed against your cervix.

Hiking your thighs onto his hips, he snaps them forward. Pounding into you at a brutal pace. Giving you no time to adjust to his colossal size.

“A-Ani…” You slurred, eyes going crossed from the stretch. “S-So big, An-Ani…”

He groaned at seeing your tummy bulge every time he thrusted back into you. “Yes, so big and yet your tiny cunt is taking me so well. Tell me, hatari, how much do you love it?”

You could feel the heat beginning to build in your core, tugging at you. “I love it! Love it so much!”

“Needy little thing,” he grunted. “Be a good girl now, let me into that perfect womb of yours. Going to fill you up so full. Going to make you heavy with the heir to my new empire.”

“M-Master…” You could barely form a sentence; you were so overwhelmed.

With a few more deep thrusts, he breached past the tight rim. Getting exactly what he wanted. “That’s it, that’s my sweet padawan,” he cooed.

You could feel the tears of ecstasy running down your cheeks. Your pussy clenching around him from the extra stretch. You were so painfully close and Anakin could tell.

“Let go,” he panted. “We’ll cum together, just like always.”

You went crashing over the edge. Mind blanking as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

His cock twitched inside of you. Filling you to the brim and beyond with his seed. Making your stomach round.

Catching your breath. Smiling warmly at one another. You both basked in the afterglow of it all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, still buried deep within you. Anakin placed a tender kiss on your forehead and whispered. “I love you. You’re going to look so beautiful carrying our child, my empress.”

A cold chill ran through you as you came back down from your high. You knew you should be terrified. That you should be distraught over the events that led up to this.

But as you gazed up into those yellow eyes…none of that mattered anymore. All that did was you being right by his side.

“I love you too, Lord Vader.”

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months ago

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I had a Batman AU thought that I wanted to share involving eldritch?sentient!Gotham. Gotham is alive, old and deeply rooted magic of ??? origin (that doesn't appreciate being poked and prodded so attempts to discern what she is have ended badly), and she is... mercurial, to put it diplomatically. She can favor or sabotage people on a sliding scale of intensity - basically good or bad luck on the lower side of the scale (finding a $20 bill vs stepping in a gross puddle kinda thing), and on the higher side it's things like a bullet missing when it shouldn't or a piece of building falling onto someone. She also has boons, things she grants certain people - primarily Bats, but there are a few Rogues that have their own boons because again, mercurial. Boons bind someone to Gotham, make them always find their way back and eventually need to come back, but if you're close enough to Gotham for her to offer a boon, it's probably your home.

Batman is her... warlock? Paladin? He's pledged his life to protect Gotham and is in tune with her, and he protects the city and keeps it in balance, and she grants him her favor constantly and has given him a powerful boon (able to hide in whatever shadows there are, even slight ones, and virtually disappear in them even if you're watching him). When he takes Dick in and Dick creates the Robin mantle, Gotham loves it, and Dick gets his own boon (able to land where he intends to, can't be killed/seriously hurt from a fall).

Jason though is her absolute favorite son, her pride and joy. He's born of Gotham, steeped in the city, of it and for it, and he loves Gotham and when he becomes Robin he fights to make her better and bring light to her. She gives him the boon that he knows every part of the city instinctively. He can move through it easily, knows the streets and buildings by heart, knows on some level what's happening in different places (not always exact, usually gut feelings), and he can always hide in it when he chooses.

Then he dies. (Away from Gotham, because if he'd been in Gotham she never would have let it happen.) Gotham and Batman are a wreck together, they're angry and grieving and losing it, everything is coming apart and it's Bad. (The Joker had a boon from Gotham, because he's also of Gotham, and she's not good or evil but simply is. However when he killed HER favorite son, she tore the boon and her favor from him and wrecked what was left of his mind. He still feels chained to Gotham and Batman, but this is no longer a city that loves him.)

This is when Tim pushes to become Robin, and both Gotham and Batman hate it. They both want to lose themselves in the rage and grief, but Tim won't let them. Batman/Bruce comes around first, but Gotham is still seething, and she sabotages Tim at every turn: things that should hold his weight break or creak loudly, shadows never seem to hide him, evidence gets lost or trails go cold when he tries to follow them, buildings constantly crumble around him, goons always seem to get hits on him that he should be able to dodge or avoid, he gets pitched into the harbor CONSTANTLY.

It gets to a point that Bruce is seriously considering firing Tim purely because it's notably more dangerous for him as Robin than it ever was for Dick and Jason (even though he and Dick both try to convince Gotham to calm down and lay off). Tim eventually tracks down the best place to communicate with Gotham directly (much as she tries to deter him) and they get into a fight (reminiscent of Tim getting into fights with Bruce to make him get his shit together).

Tim argues that if he hadn't stepped in, Bruce would have either gotten himself killed or crossed a line he couldn't come back from, and it would have destroyed him AND the hope left in Gotham. He would have been considered a criminal and likely would have become a Rogue, with no 'Batman' to step up and stop him. He argues that Batman needs a Robin to fight for and protect, and without one he'll backslide and get worse again, and if that happens, Gotham will be torn to shreds. Tim points out that Jason loved Gotham and fought for her, and it's disrespectful of his love and his memory to let everything fall to pieces after he fought so hard for her.

It's enough to convince Gotham to back off on her sabotage, though she's still hurt and sulking. Bruce still isn't sure about Tim not having Gotham's favor, much less a boon of his own, but Tim argues that he'll get good enough to keep up with or without Gotham's help - which he does.

Over time though, Gotham watches Tim fight to protect Gotham and Batman, and she admits she was wrong in how she treated him. She slowly starts to extend her favor to him and eventually approaches him and offers him a boon. Tim, however, turns her down. He's seen how badly Jason's loss and Gotham's grief and anger affected those closely connected to her, and he knows taking the boon will tie him to Gotham permanently. He believes those connected to Gotham and Gotham herself need someone who can be more objective and keep a level head, and he's secretly kind of worried that if something happens again, if Bruce and the Bats eventually tire of him and don't need him, he'll be trapped in Gotham. He also just doesn't totally trust Gotham even though he loves her.

Gotham's hurt, obviously, but she understands and doesn't lash out, recognizing it's her own fault. She does give him her favor though and swears to never rescind it, even when she's upset with him. Tim's gotten this far without her favor or a boon, but it's nice not to have to worry about getting dunked in the harbor for the third time in one week anymore (though she hasn't done that in a year or so).

Then Jason returns, and Gotham is having THE BEST time. Her baby boy! Is back! He's bigger now, and he's a lot angrier and hurt in a lot of ways, but he's! Back! She's a little worried about how angry he is at Batman and the other Bats, but Jason is her favorite and she can't turn him away or deny him. She still favors him, she just... makes sure she favors the Bats enough too to keep them all on an even playing field. They'll work it out. Tim managed to get her to calm down, so she's confident her current Robin will help the family again.

Then Jason goes to the Titan Tower after Tim, and initially she assumes they'll talk and things will be better, but when Jason comes back she sees that he went and ATTACKED Tim.

It's the first time she's ever been angry at Jason, and she drops a brick on his head (while he's wearing his helmet, he's still her favorite), and she threatens to collapse the ceiling of his apartment. They get into a fight. Jason came away from his fight with Tim thinking Tim was impressive as Robin, but he doesn't want him in the suit so he still went through with beating him unconscious. He DID notice Tim doesn't have Gotham's boon, so he doesn't understand why she's so upset he roughed the kid up.

Gotham is pissed and a pissed Gotham is hard to communicate with outside of raw emotion, so eventually after suffering several indignities of light sabotage, getting caught yelling at the street or a building while the manhole cover or windows rattle angrily, Jason goes to find Tim and ask "hey what the FUCK" (haven't fully figured how this changes Jason's interactions with the rest of the Bats, but he is begrudgingly impressed that Tim made it through the start of his tenure with Gotham actively sabotaging him, then argued an eldritch city into behaving, then turned down her boon and STILL came out of it with her undying favor).

(Gotham, in this AU, is NOT a fan of the al Ghuls at all. Primarily Ra's, at first, because he wants to purify Gotham/control her, and she is NOT a fan of that thanks. He's tried attacking her (destroying parts of the city), threatening her, trying to determine the origin of her magic, enslave her, trying to bargain with her, seducing her, and she is having NONE OF IT. Going into Gotham is a nightmare for anyone with the League, because while it can be difficult for her to get a hold of them, once she does she sabotages the HELL out of them. Getting cut on rusted rebar, falling off ledges, sinkholes opening up under them, one of them managed to get bitten by a rat and catch the bubonic plague. Ra's has, on one memorable occasion, been knocked into an open manhole and then almost drowned in sewer water that carried him out into the harbor where something (possibly Croc) tried to eat him, and he broke his arm while climbing out.

Talia got a reluctant pass since she seemed more interested in Bruce than Gotham and Bruce reciprocated, but Gotham doesn't appreciate Talia's attempts to lure Bruce OUT of Gotham. When she finds out Talia kept Jason away? AND convinced him to go after Tim? Talia is on the permanent shit list too.

When Gotham finds out about DAMIAN, Talia can't set foot in Gotham without having SEVERAL chunks of building being dropped on her from above.

Though when Damian DOES show up, Gotham is quick to claim him and offer him a boon. He's the son of Batman, he's a future Robin, and if he's given a boon, he's tied to Gotham and can't easily return to the League (mostly Talia and Ra's). Win win!

Except then he attacks Tim, and learns VERY swiftly that it's not good to piss off the sentient eldritch city you accepted a boon from. He's laid up with a migraine and all kinds of awful symptoms of an illness (nothing fatal but definitely awful) until Tim recovers, and then Tim gets to play mediator between the Bats and Gotham AGAIN as he tries to explain to Damian the nuances of Gotham as an entity and what being one of her favored/booned actually means, AND lecturing Gotham about sabotaging another Robin/giving him a boon without making sure he understood what he was accepting.)

HI 👋 Fabulous AU you've got here.

I particularly enjoy how complicated Tim's relationship with Gotham is. In fact, Tim's later years could be misunderstood by the Bats as Tim being her favorite (hear me out).

If Gotham never states who her favorite is, all the Bats see is that Tim, despite not having a boon, has Gotham on his side against the other Bats (really, Tim just isn't attacking/harming the others like they are to him, but it's about perspective).

It's also kind of heartbreaking that Tim has an additional condition that sets him apart from the Bats. He's the only one to be immediately hated by Gotham. He doesn't have a boon (though later that's a choice). He is consistently reaching out to Gotham to actually communicate and fix their issues.

Might I add an additional part for extra angst? We'll take the fanon idea of Tim stalking his heroes from a young age.

Gotham sees that another being idolizes her paladins and grants him the small boon of his camera never making a sound, being unnoticeable, and the flash never being visible unless Tim wants it to. Tim is okay with being stuck in Gotham due to his parents never taking him abroad with them

After Tim forces his way into Robin, though, Gotham rips this away from him, destroys any need for him to stay (she wants him to leave her alone to her own rumination), and actively sabatoges him.

Because it was taken from him once, because he's felt the pain of that loss, because the sudden emptiness was a gaping hole he had to spend years coping with, he never wants a boon again. He doesn't know if he'll be able to handle the sudden deprivation once more.

This is the start of him not trusting that anything lasts (especially since a retracted boon was so rare it's only been rumored in the past [since Gotham doesn't care for "good" or "evil" it's harder to get on her bad side]).

I'm curious what all of the boons alloted to each person are (very curious if/what Commissioner Gordon's)

#tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #sentient gotham #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #dick grayson

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losing-it-lately · 7 months ago

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Would you consider a Remus Lupin x reader where reader is an animagi probably like a smaller animal maybe like a cat or something and Remus has them falling asleep on him and not realizing it’s reader until he’s openly talking about his feelings toward them and the reader in animagi form is like 👀👀👀

Remus Lupin with an Animagi!reader

wc: 0.7k

remus lupin x reader fluff

not exactly as per the request, but i hope you enjoy it :)

Soft and warm and happy. You were everything that Remus Lupin felt like he didn't get in his life. And even when he didn't know it, you still brought an unfiltered joy into his life.

The Gryffindor common room had seen some recent changes, the biggest one being Remus’ new companion, a scrappy, furry little thing that hung on his shoulder or in his sweater. Cats had always been allowed in Gryffindor, but a small kitten was a new update.

He had found you lingering around the whomping willow; playing and dancing around the tree’s various attacks. With your soft wispy fur and your long whiskers, immediately he was enthralled. Not to mention, he had needed something to keep him going after his transformation the night before.

So you two became a pair, a loved pair. Little first years would surround Remus asking to pet you and James and Sirius would use you for pranks and Remus would let you sleep in his bed. He really loved you, even when you were gone, he would patiently wait.

But what he didn't know was that you were never actually gone.

You were intelligent, for sure. And you were loud, and fun, and crass, and all the things that made people laugh loudly and smile unabashedly. Remus saw something bright and spunky in you and the way you’d light the people around you. And whilst your otherwise silly jokes made people assume the least, your unrestrained time in the library and constant practice and yearning for your curiosity to be satisfied resulted in an early animagi status.

Though intensely illegal to practice that kind of magic underage and without recognition from the ministry, becoming an animagi fulfilled a part of yourself that otherwise you wouldn't have ever felt complete without. When you first transformed into that small tabby, the world around you went silent. You felt different and the same, you were content.

So you continued, spending time in your new form doing whatever random tasks you wanted to do. And eventually, you picked up a companion who unbeknownst to you, knew both sides of the coin.

Remus had started taking you into account on the sorting ceremony of that year. You had accidentally turned up late and took the first empty seat you saw, the one next to him. The both of you had never spoken one on one until that moment, and he swears that he didn't know what a proper laugh felt like until you uttered that first joke; even better, he didn't know what an angel sounded like until he heard your laugh.

Then, he would see you in the library, in his potions class, in the gryffindor common room, it was like you were everywhere, until you weren't.

He stopped seeing you as often and assumed that maybe, maybe he wasn't as down bad as he had been before, maybe he was getting over you. And then you sat next to him in potions and all of his feelings came tumbling back.

Remus rushed to his dorm room with his face blushing all different colours and his fingers picking at his scars. He was spiraling and didn't know what he could do, until he saw her: his little tabby rolling on his bed, waiting patiently.

He scooped her up, letting her eyes match his at eye level, and started confiding.

“I don't know what to do,” he stuttered, his hands engulfing her arms. “I need her so badly, she's perfect for me.”

You were confused to say the least, purring and distracting him from whatever ailed him. It was unbecoming, watching Remus ramble about his dream girl, until he mentioned your name. Your eyes widened, and you jumped out of his hands. Sometimes being smart isn't enough and in this case, you had no idea what to do. You scampered back out of his line of vision and into your room, transforming back and realising you had to do something, you had to make a move.

All week, Remus waited for his tabby to come back, and come Hogsmeade, he went out to buy her some treats. Mid his store run, you found him, looking between aisles for various different snacks.

“I want to talk to you,” you smiled and he felt his world turn a little faster.

Remus abandoned the snacks and you led him outside, to a bench. He felt something shift inside him as you stared into his eyes.

“I really like you,” he burst out, his normal composure almost disappearing now that he was this close to you. You softly laughed and he felt his heartbeat quicken.

“We should go and share a butterbeer.”

#my writing #fanfic #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x animagi!reader #marauders x reader #marauders fanfic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders fluff #marauders

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silverthehedgehogexplained · 4 months ago

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Explaining Silver the Hedgehog's character (Updated)

To truly understand Silver's character you need to understand not one, not two, not three, not even four but the ten different cores of his character. Starting with...

A Strong Sense of Justice - The Hedgehog of Justice

Silver is driven by a strong Sense of Justice. This is his defining trait mentioned in almost all character bios. Silver is a righteous person driven to right wrongs in the world and will always stand up for others. This can make him quite Confrontational as he has zero tolerance for injustice or wrongful suffering and will take on anyone on the spot to fight for what he thinks is right. Silver will always settle the score. Silver however doesn't wish to punish evil but rather to simply maintain peace.

Silver's sense of justice is more important to him than nearly any other character as it is the source of his drive and mission to make things right in the world. Unlike other guardian characters, Silver's sense of duty to protect the future is driven entirely by his personal sense of justice rather than imposed responsibility like Blaze, Knuckles and Ariem..

A Determind Optimist

Silver's other most defining trait is his noted Optimism. Silver has a positive outlook no matter the circumstances. During peaceful times Silver spreads positivity and seeks to make people smile however he can and during dark times Silver rallies and inspires hope in others. If Sonic represents Freedom then Silver represents Hope and will never give up no matter how dire or impossible the situation may seem.

Silver's very presence radiates positivity. In Sonic Channel stories Silver is said to engage in Cheerful Activities after the historical change in 06 and have both a "positive way of life that inspires people and makes them want to watch over him and cheer him on forever…" and an "Honest, unpretentious and kind demeanor" that makes him a warm and inspiring influence. This even extends to real life as this illustration by Tomoko Hayane spontaneously inspired everyone in her office to high five Silver on the screen the day it was made. In Sonic Channel stories Silver also has a very warm smile that fills Princess Elise with trust and joy during the height of her anxiety in one story and a recipient can't say no to in another story. (He's low-key a pretty boy)

Linked to Silver's optimism is supreme Determination. Silver will not give up no matter how impossible the odds are or how badly he's hurt, even when Solaris destroyed the entire space-time continuum and was explained to be nigh-invincible Silver simply resolved to destroy him in the past, present and future all at once and roused everyone back into action when they had all completely lost hope. Silver again rouses hope into the Resistance in Sonic Forces when Sonic and Tails were thought to be lost. Silver doesn't give up easily in general as it took 40 tries for him to cut exact Silver cut apple slices. It is this spirit that allows Silver to fight through the hopeless apocalyptic future. Silver's hope, optimism and determination are best exemplified in the Japanese version of Sonic Forces where he says this:

There is hope! As long you don't give up!

A Kind Hearted Hedgehog

Silver is an Altruist. An altruist is a person who is unselfish and concerned for the well-being of others, even if they don't gain anything by doing so. Silver not only has a strong desire to help others but he also has great Empathy for both people and environments and wants to see them in a happy state. Silver loves Smiles, he can't help but smile when he sees other people smile and his greatest joy is making other people happy. Silver wants to make people happy because he grew up in an apocalyptic future that was filled with despair as stated in Sonic & Silver on Sonic Channel. Silver's altruism is not only the motivation behind his mission to protect the future but also the only thing that can make him break from it as he will drop his current mission to help people as he does with Amy in Sonic 06 and the understaffed post office of Soleanna in Sonic Pict as Silver cannot say no to a sad face. Silver's reason for aspiring to become a hero is to be someone that can protect smiles as he states in Sonic & Silver.

Focused On Saving The Future - A Focused Agent

The very first thing Silver is described with in 06 design documents is Focused on Saving The Future. Silver is a driven and focused agent that becomes very determined and serious when it comes to saving the future and dealing with potential threats. Like Sonic's other rivals Silver is very skilled in many regards from skillfully doing various odds jobs in Soleanna in Town Missions to getting one of the highest sharpshooting scores in Soleanna's 1500 year history(Town Mission 6) to becoming a "genius" skating coach celebrity in the Otherworld Comedy series to the general use of his powers(Silver takes offence to being treated like an amateur for a reason). Silver is a veteran fighter from his apocalyptic life of battling Iblis and is able to and quickly learn things he's never done before like Chaos Control and car racing after only seeing them once. Silver trains regularly and is said to make steady efforts to improve in the 2022 wallpaper comedy series. Silver is a Fly/Technique type character so he specialize in technical sports like ice skating, uses a high balance car in Team Sonic Racing and is possibly the fastest flyer in the series as he's able to keep up with Sonic in Generations and is able to fly at light speeds with his Teleport Dash ability. Silver is very Proactive in his pursuits as in the opening of his story in Sonic 06 he states that he always asked people in his apocalyptic future how the world was destroyed but could never get a direct answer, hence why he listens to Mephiles.

Silver is noted to be intuitive and perceptive. He sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details in his mannerisms. In Sonic Rivals 2 he turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao and advance his mission instead. In Otherworld Comedy Act 8 he intuits Blaze trying to control her powers when seeing them for the first time. Silver solves problems through thinking in all of his major game appearances from figuring out how to revive Sonic in the last episode of 06 to uncovering Eggman's plot in Team Sonic Racing.

Despite his naivete, Silver Isn't Very Trusting. His respect and trust has to be earned as he doesn't work with anyone in the Sonic Rivals series until they prove useful to him. In Sonic Generations Silver doesn't trust Sonic as being real and he is almost immediately suspicious of Dodon Pa. While he can take things literally at times the same deception that works on Knuckles won't work on Silver as Eggman learned in Team Sonic Racing. Even when working with Mephiles, Silver did not initially believe in time travel and did not fully commit to his plan until he was physically thrown back in time and still began questioning it after being confronted by Amy, only continuing to go along with the mission after it was reaffirmed by both Blaze and Mephiles as the only option to save the future.

Silver is very Goal Focused and has a Straight To The Point Mentality as part of his forthrightness. He doesn't like distractions, petty details or things getting in his way and prefers to concentrate on his current goals. Silver can also be somewhat Ruthless as he has done many things to protect the future including sneaking past Soleanna guards(Town Mission 11), mugging Tails and attempted assassinations all with little reservation. Despite having something of an honor code against cowardice Silver is also willing to fight pretty dirty such as when he played possum to hit Sonic in 06.

Forthright Purity

One of Silver's original design document descriptors is that he is very Forthright. This actually entails multiple different things about Silver that all deal with his Purity. As his name suggests, Silver is themed with purity as a character with his silvery white colors, youthfulness, innocence and forthright nature. Silver is forthright in every sense of the word including being Straightforward and Honest. Honest to a fault as Silver is so honest that he can't even lie(though he can change the subject as he does in Sonic 06 and Sonic Rivals 2). Direct and Outspoken as Silver hides almost nothing about himself(he only tries to hide his problems as when he tries to dismiss his worries in TSR as nothing) and speaks his mind as well as Going Straight to the Point as discussed above. This is why in Playstation Magazine Japan, Silver was officially given the birthday May 9th and with it the star sign of Taurus which is associated with determination, directness and honesty. Silver wears his heart on his sleeve and has a certain innocence to him that permeates his character.

With this purity however comes Silver's Naivety. He has a somewhat simplistic Black and White Perspective. Silver can sometimes take things literally and expects people to believe any outlandish things he tells them simply because he knows them to be true. Silver can also be unfamiliar with things in the present due to living in the far future where everything is either long destroyed or far more advanced.

The flip side of that forthright purity however is...

The Brash Antithesis of Eggman Nega

On the flip side of being straightforward and honest, Silver is also Blunt and Rude. Just as Silver wears his heart on sleeve he also has no filter and will say whatever is on his mind which can make him Abrasive and quick to insult. Silver will call you an idiot to your face if he thinks you are one and often trash talks opponents in in-game dialogue(literally calling defeated enemies trash in 06). Silver's rudeness is even more apparent in Japanese where he uses many informal impressions including addressing himself with "Ore"(おれ) and others "Anta"(あんた, the ruder version "Anata") which signifies that he speaks bluntly. Silver often points directly at people he speaks to(This is considered much more rude in Japan) and crosses his legs while sitting in a way that is roughly the Japanese equivalent of putting your feet on a table. Silver acts very casually with others without introducing himself which can be very informal and rude as Knuckles calls out during their meeting in Sonic Rivals 1. This can make Silver even more rude than other brash characters in a technical sense as he's just blunt and acts without a filter. This is a key difference between Silver and Future Trunks who was largely a shy and polite mannered individual.

Similar to Jet the Hawk, Silver is Juvenile both in his age designation and general level of maturity. Due to this Silver can be quite Brash similar to Sonic but even more so due to his aggression and bluntness/lack of filter. He can be snotty, sneering, sarcastic and is even stated to have a mischievous side in the Commemorative Illustration series. Though he is generally humble Silver has a confident, somewhat smug attitude about his powers and is very Competitive. Almost fighting Blaze as they begin one upping each other over who could deal with Orbot & Cubot on their own when they first meet in the Triumph cutscene Sonic Colors DS. Silver is also Headstrong, almost fighting Blaze again when she treats him like an amateur in the Otherworld Comedy series. Despite his share of hedgehog prickliness however Silver isn't a hostile or mean spirited person(as long as you're not in his way or being unjust that is). Just as Eggman Nega being polite does not make him a good person being rude does not make Silver a bad one as he maintains his goal of helping others at all times. When not focused on a mission Silver is shown to be a fun loving, reliable and protective friend. Silver cherishes his friends and is willing to do anything for them. Silver can also be just as quick to praise or call something cool as he is to insult someone and he strongly believes in the abilities of the people that have earned his respect as when he recruits Sonic to help him with the Revival Bridge situation in Sonic & Silver and is genuinely grateful for Espio's help in saving the world in Sonic Rivals 2. This side of Silver can be very similar to Sonic from Sonic SatAM. Combined with his naivety and determination this side can also make him similar to a Looney Tunes character called Henery Hawk. (He's naive but he has a blunt "What's so funny?" attitude about it)

Due to this nature, Silver has bold explosive responses to even the most impossible challenges, stating "I'll show you how crazy I am" when Knuckles calls him crazy in Sonic Rivals 2, "Come on, Espio! We can take them all on!" when confronted with Knuckles, Rouge and Eggman all at once in Sonic Rivals 2, and "If you say it exists in the past, present and future, I'll destroy them all at once!" when facing the impossible challenge of Solaris(He drops pretty hard lines when things get tough). Silver has this attitude against even things that outmatch him such as Infinite's mighty power.

Silver is described as "young and immature" by his creator Shun Nakamura so despite his general seriousness he can still have somewhat childish moments.

Almost all of Silver's traits are also diametrically opposed to those of his Sonic Rivals series nemesis Eggman Nega(currently the only other character from Silver's future), down to the colors they're themed after Black and White.

Silver is Rude and Blunt out of sheer earnestness while Eggman Nega is overly Polite as a form of mind games. Silver is Warm and Pure while Eggman Nega is Cold and Twisted. Silver is Honest to a fault while Eggman Nega is extremely Deceitful. Silver is Kind while Eggman Nega is Cruel. Silver is Naive while Eggman Nega is Sophisticated. Silver is Reckless while Eggman Nega is Calculating. Silver is Practical while Eggman Nega is Petty. Silver desires Peace and Prosperity while Eggman Nega desires Chaos and Destruction. Both are willing to sacrifice themselves for those ends in ways that seem crazy to other characters.

Riled Up - A Passionate Emotional Beast

One of the descriptions for Silver in design documents, Riled Up, alludes to Silver's highly emotional nature. Silver is a High Spirited person that is also emotionally immature.

Like Blaze, Silver can be Easily Angered and have a pretty Wrathful Temper. However unlike Blaze who is repressed in her feelings, Silver has no filter and can get loud or carried away when he is overly angered, excited or saddened(He's autistic...) which can primarily be seen in his animations and dialogue in the Olympic Games series. Silver puts his all into any activity he gets invested into(I'm giving this all I've got!) because of how Passionate he is.

It is the strength of his feelings that can make Silver Impulsive or Rash as often noted in his character bios.

Sometimes Silver tends to deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings, or he tends to take everything on himself, but this is an aspect of his purity and an endearing virtue. ~ Sonic & Silver Sonic Channel story

This separates Silver from Sonic and Shadow who are both calm and cool in most situations while Silver has very little emotional regulation and can be blinded by his feelings. This can make him rather Reckless at times as he can deal with things too head on and will throw himself at problems when he gets overtaken by his feelings.

While Shadow is calculating and detached, Silver is controlled by powerful emotion and is impulsive and obsessive. This causes them both to be incredibly straightforward, mission oriented, and viscous, but for entirely opposite reasons. Sonic on the other hand falls in between. He cares, but he's not nearly as impulsive and manic as Silver. He's also cool-headed and easygoing, but not out of the detached stoicism of Shadow. SSS are quite different emotionally.

This Hot-blooded emotional nature is why Silver often has very Stoic partners like Blaze, Espio or Shadow to calm him down and pull him back. This dynamic is alluded to in the Japanese version of Sonic 06 where Blaze states that she shouldn't let Silver run wild on his own(in the English version she states that he's insecure when alone though that is contradicted within both 06 itself and the Rivals series).

An Aggressive Warrior

Due to his apocalyptic background Silver is a fierce and aggressive Warrior with many violent aspects to him. The Sonic Channel Sonic & Silver character introduction story states that Silver fought and struggled for half his lifetime which implies that he fought the forces of Iblis since he was seven years old.

Silver was born into a literal Hell on Earth where people lived without hope and he had to constantly battle against the minions of Iblis and put out disasters caused by it's existence such as flame tornadoes, storms and tides of lava destroying everything in a world where everyone lived in Eternal Darkness and suffering. Silver fought for most of his life to bring peace to the world. Due to this life of constant violence and devastation Silver is devoted to and deeply appreciates Peace but also has a violent personality because of it. This is why Silver has intense determined expressions and aggressive body language as he constantly makes fists and aggressive stances even when he's happy. Silver also punches things when he's frustrated and gets up using his fists in Sonic Forces. This not only shows his determination and emotional nature but his baked in aggression from a life of fighting through the apocalypse. Shadow notes Silver as a fighter in Team Sonic Racing dialogue. As covered above Silver can be something of an attack dog and needs to be held back at times.

This is also reflected in the pointed design of his eyes which in Japanese character design represents sharpness and intensity in a character. These points are easy to miss due to how his eyes are modeled and the way they align with the quills that act as bangs over the upper corners of his eyes.

Silver is incredibly powerful, being able to defeat armies of enemies in Town Missions in Sonic 06 and shown to have a tally of the number of times he single-handedly defeated the gigantic Iblis in a Sonic Pict wallpaper. When they fight in 06 Silver is as physically strong as Shadow who himself can easily lift 18-Wheeler G.U.N. Trucks and other house sized objects with one arm.

Silver also Enjoys Fighting and fights for fun as seen in his friendly Rival Battles in Sonic Generations. Silver is willing to fight anybody if he feels slighted and I do mean anybody as he's been shown willing to fight everything from skyscraper sized monsters like Iblis and Ifrit to small children as he has no qualms with fighting Tails or Bowser Jr(something he shares with Shadow). Silver is said to “sometimes call forth great power without mercy” in Sonic & Silver on Sonic Channel.

Tying into his selfless and reckless nature, Silver is also Extremely Brave. As stated for the Pumpkin Trigger Sonic Comic, Silver has no regard for his own safety and will immediately throw himself at any danger or sacrifice himself at a moments notice especially if it means protecting those around him. Silver had to fight the colossal Iblis and its endless spawn in a dark hellscape by himself for most of his life(as it has been revealed Blaze wasn't born in the future in 06). Silver also has very high pain tolerance owing to his determination and violent life of fighting Iblis. Angrily continuing to attack after being kicked in the head by Shadow in 06, shredded and bounced across the street by Sonic in Generations and enduring agonizing pain beyond description caused by overusing his powers in Sonic & Silver. Silver also seems to value being brave and dislikes cowardice going by his remarks in the Sonic Rivals series and the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview which has interesting implications for his backstory.

When surprised in Sonic Generations Silver instantly has a fight response as he grew up in a world where Iblis minions could attack at any moment. (He's feral)

A Sentimental Person

Silver also has a very quiet side. He can be Introspective and Sentimental. This is shown throughout Sonic 06 with the non-verbal processing of events around him. After his fallout with Amy, he sits quietly by himself unengaged with his mission to destroy the Iblis Trigger and contemplates the morality of hurting one person to save the world. He silently takes in the events of the Solaris Project as he finally learns the truth about the destruction of the world he always asked about. Silver feels grief and contemplation quietly as shown when he's left solemn and silent over his moral dilemma and Blaze's sacrifice. Silver appreciates little things and finds beauty in simple parts of the world that most people take for granted.

Silver also has a certain curiosity to him and sometimes takes interest in new things ("Interesting"), so he also enjoys new experiences, facing challenges and going sightseeing.

The Hedgehog of Peace

The absolute core and purpose of Silver's character is World Peace. Silver lives for and fights to protect world peace at all costs. This primarily includes his drive to protect Smiles and Blue Skies. Because of Silver's Empathy he wants to see the world and it's people prosper and could not stand the devastated of his destroyed future even before he experienced any true peace. Silver's quills are patterned after a Japanese Maple Leaf which represents peace.

In contrast to the apocalyptic devastation, darkness and suffering he grew up with, Silver feels at peace when seeing clear blue skies, beautiful environments or people living in prosperity. Due to hailing from a devastated future even something as simple as a desert is beautiful to him because it's intact and the people are happy. Because his feelings reflect the world around him, seeing these things in ruined states saddens and upsets him while seeing them thrive takes his breath away. When Silver sees people smile he can't help but smile. Silver's mission is to protect and maintain a happy future with a blue sky.

This is also reflected in Silver's heavily implied favorite food, apples as apples represent Good Fortune and Prosperity. It was even revealed in Sonic Pict and a how-it-was-made special that Silver ate apple flavored calorie bars in his destroyed future.

To recap. The ten core aspects of Silver are:

A Strong Sense of Justice

The Optimistic Determinator

A Kind Heart

Forthright Purity( with Naivete)

A Focused Agent

An Emotional Beast

The Brash Antithesis of Eggman Nega

The Aggressive Warrior

A Sentimental Person

The Hedgehog of Peace

This post complies information about Silver from all his canon appearances, manuals, the Mario & Sonic series, Nintendo Dream and PlayStation Magazine interviews, design documents and cultural research by myself and others. Particularly the Sonic Channel Story called Sonic & Silver that is meant to introduce Silver's character and the Team Vector Interview from Nintendo Dream Magazine.

Some believe that Silver is an experimental character that changes from from game to game but all ten of these core aspects have been with Silver since his very inception in Sonic 06 and have been indicated in character bios/design docs since the beginning and are simply shown to different extents throughout the series. Silver is a very complex and abstruse character that can be difficult to grasp due to his lack of focus and the obscurity of most things he appears in post 06. I hope this post has given you a deeper understanding of him.

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hoseoksluna · 8 months ago

Text

— WIP 𐙚 pt III of vapor

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

about: the forbidden uncoils—along with your orgasm.

word count: 0.694

note: because i'm feeling IMMENSELY happy today bc of namjoon and bc this very work right here, i decided to express my joy by posting a little wip from the third part of vapor for you that's coming this weekend. *screams loudly* I'M SO EXCITED, OH MY GOOOOOOD. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT; LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. <3

warnings: mentions of punishment, oral sex (f. receiving), jungkook is needy but such a dominant daddy fuck my life

𐙚

“Spank me.”

Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes.

“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.”

The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.

Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation.

“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.”

He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs.

Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms.

And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this.

Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either.

Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?”

Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth.

You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being.

And along with your submission come out your words.

In perfect fashion.

“No, I want to suck you off.”

And along with those your orgasm, too.

𐙚

WIP masterlist

#lunas dark wips #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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taintedcigs · 2 years ago

Text

✦ STRAWBERRIES & CREAM | steve h. x reader ✦

wc: 2k+

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! swearing, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, princess, etc.) p in v, praises!! lots of praises! degrading if u squint really really hard but not really!! slight dom!steve, but mostly soft!dom!steve, sub!reader, kind of a breeding kink, creampie, steve is v horny, aftercare!! shitty aftercare bc i suck at writing endings JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI!!!

summary: you make steve a strawberry cake, and steve wants to return the favor.

authors note: FIRST TIME WRITING STEVE SMUT IM EXCITED!! im so very sorry about the shitty ending and the shitty aftercare, i had shitty men so i cannot write good aftercare OKAY!!! nah im jk hope yall enjoy it, PLS PLS leave me some feedback they r my joy and hope!! ALSO COME TALK TO ME IN ASKS, OR SEND ME PM IM V FRIENDLY I LOVE TALKING TO PPL okay that's it enjoy!! mwah xo, em💌

steve loves it. he absolutely loves when you do something for him, he adores the pretty smile you give him when he tells you how much he loves whatever it is you did for him.

but he can't help but get horny, so fucking horny when you do something for him. anything. when you bring him coffee at work, he's hard as a rock. when you take care of him after a stressful day, he's grateful, so grateful, but his bulge is tightening his pants.

and right now, when he sees you in your tight little sun dress as you're holding out a strawberry cake, his favorite, he knows he's about to explode.

he groans, actually groans as you dip your finger in the frosting holding out your fingers in front of his lips, his cock is strained in his pants, he needs you, and he needs you now.

his gaze remains attached to yours as he sucks on your finger, the rich flavors engulf his mouth, and he makes a popping sound causing you to rub your thighs together with the way his gaze devours you.

'what d'ya think?' you give him a small smile, excited for his feedback as you spent the entire day working on steve's favorite cake.

'tastes so fuckin' sweet, darlin' he murmurs as you giggle, looking up to him all doe-eyed, and steve swears you're doing it on purpose.

'do you like my surprise?' you ask, your eyes are lit up with hope and steve is putty in your hands, he adores the way your face is covered in flour, and he's quick to swipe it away, admiring your features.

'i love it, baby, you made this just for me?' he teases, his soft hands cup your cheeks, and you nod quickly, melting into his hands.

'mhmm, just for you stevie.' you murmur as you plant a kiss into his palm, and it's so soft, so fragile that steve feels perverted by the way he's thinking about you.

but he's desperate, so fucking desperate that all he wants to do is bend you over the counter and thrust into you till you scream out his name, making you cum over and over again while he watches your pretty face contort.

'wanna taste some too, stevie.' you whine as you point towards the cake, steve's pants tighten at what you're insinuating and he bites his cheek, his fingers dip into the frosting as he holds it in front of you.

you are quick to take his hand in yours, licking the frosting as you suck on his finger, all while holding your gaze with his, and you can almost see his pretty chestnut orbs become dark and lustful.

'you have no idea what you're doing to me, princess.' he sucks in a breath, 'fuck.' he almost groans and you look up at him all innocently.

'my pretty girl.' he murmurs as his lips crash into yours, they taste like strawberries and cream, he's gentle but rough, and so very needy.

'need you baby, need you s'fuckin' badly.' he groans into your lips, 'stevie...' you whine, pleading.

'what does my pretty girl need?' he cooes. 'you. need you inside.' you whine, so needily, so prettily that steve has no choice but to take care of his girl.

before you can comprehend it steve is quick to bend you over the kitchen counter, pressing your head on the cold counter with one hand while the other one is quick to unzip his pants.

'i got you, baby... i'm gonna give you everything you fuckin' need, princess.' he flips up your dress, groaning at the sight as he gives you a rough slap on your cheeks, making you yelp.

'shh, princess... you can take it, mmm? my good lil' girl can take it.' he lays a messy kiss on your back, giving you another slap as you whine again.

'p-please... need more, need your cock, stevie...' you plead, and steve pouts. 'such a needy lil' baby, are ya?' he mocks, and you nod, you want— need him.

his tip is leaking with pre-cum as he gives it a few tugs at the sight of your ass cheeks being covered with his handprints, he smirks, smugly. 's'fuckin' gorgeous...' he murmurs, he tugs at your lacy panties, dragging them down your thighs.

he's slow to kiss every inch of your thighs, he spreads them apart, placing sloppy kisses in your inner thigh from the back as your breath hitches, 'stevie...' you murmur.

'you say my name so pretty.' he praises, 'tell me what you want, doll.' he's teasing now as his lips come close to your pussy lips, but never close enough that you get what you need.

'p-please, stevie, your hands, your mouth, your cock, anything...' you plead, doe-eyed, and steve knows he could never say no to you.

'pretty baby, you know i would never say no to you if you begged for me like that, hmm?' he cooes, standing up now, cowering over your figure, his eyes are glazed with lust, you can't see him with your ass pressing onto his hardened cock, but from the tone of his voice you know how worked up he is.

his fingers are rough as they pinch your clit, causing you to whine. he slips one finger into your soaking folds, going deeper and deeper as you cry out, begging for more.

'is this what you wanted, sweets?' he murmurs, his lips are on your neck, sucking, nibbling, marking you in any way that he can.

'yes, yes!' you whine, steve's fingers are fast as they work in and out of you, his mouth is on each part of your body, almost. you can feel his thick cock, pressing harder against your ass, and it is driving you crazy, you need him inside of you.

'n-need more, stevie. need your cock.' you plead.

'does my good lil' girl want my cock inside?' he cooes, mockingly, making you nod frantically, 'yes, please stevie, please!' you cry out.

'what my pretty girl want, she gets.' he murmurs as he lines his angry tip along your entrance. he holds his cock with one hand while the other has a tight grip on your waist, then to tease you further, he starts tapping his leaking tip against your aching clit, letting out a hum.

you whine at the movement, feeling empty. 'such a pretty fuckin' sight, my gorgeous girl.' mewled groans escape his pretty lips, without letting a whine escape your pretty lips again he thrusts his hips into you in a quick movement, causing you to gasp at the feeling.

with both of his hands, he grips your waist, sheathing his cock inside of you slowly and more steadily now, bending you over further as he works his cock inside of you making you moan and whimper beneath him.

'f-fuck, princess. i'll never get used to how well this tight cunt takes me." his voice is raspy.

"so fuckin' warm.' he groans, his head thrown back as you feel your tight cunt stretch with each of his movement.

he sinks deeper, and deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt, making sure that you feel every ridge, every inch of his cock.

he brings one of his hands against your head, pressing you further into the counter as he thrusts further into you, causing you to suck in a breath when his ridge pushes against your clit again.

'harder, stevie, p-please...' you cry out and steve groans at your words, the way you beg him for more makes him squeeze his eyes shut with pleasure.

'my needy fuckin' girl.' he groans as he removes his cock from your warm pussy, and it almost causes you to whine because of the emptiness, begging for him to fill you up, but before you can steve pushes his girthy cock inside of you again, deeper, and harder.

all the thoughts leave his head, the only thing he cares about now is how you are bent over beneath him, begging for more, crying out his name as your ass jiggles each time he holds a tighter grip and shoves his cock inside of your tight hole.

all he cares about is how warm and tight your cunt feels, and all you care about is how well he fills your hole, so big, and his cock is ridged in all the right places that make you scream out his name.

he's not slowing down as he keeps up his thrusts, he wants you creaming his cock, screaming out his name as he fills your walls with his load.

he wants to ruin you and put you back together all at the same time, he wants you desperate, begging to him to let you cum, over and over again, until your clit is so sensitive that you cannot handle it anymore.

the room is filled with steve's curses and his praises, 'takin' me so well sweets.'

'such a good lil' girl for me, aren't ya?' and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

'need to cum, stevie. can i please cum?' you plead, whining still, and steve tries to slow down to not let you cum, but he can't help himself, his movements are still quick and he cannot control his pace when you teasingly arch your ass against him, causing your tight cunt to engulf around his cock, he throws his head back in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut.

'f-fuck, baby, doin' so well for me, you can cum for me, babygirl.' he cooes as he bites onto your shoulder to hold himself from spilling his load into you. 'cum for me sweets, cream my cock.'

'i wanna feel you, princess. i wanna feel every fucking inch of this sweet pussy.' he groans as he strokes into you over and over again.

your warm cunt clamps around his cock, steve feels you release through his cock as you cry out for his name.

steve can't hold it in anymore, your pretty whines, the way you moan out his name, and the 'o' shape your pretty little lips take as you orgasm around him is enough to get him to empty his balls inside of you.

's-shit baby, can't hold it in much longer.' he curses.

'cum for me, stevie. wanna feel your warm load inside me.' you whine, praising him, and he groans loudly.

with a final thrust of his lips into your soaked warm cunt, he spills his seed inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse inside of you, it's warm and fills your hole to the brim.

steve groans loudly, and it's so blissful to your ears, he's so beautiful when he's loud and whiny, you think to yourself as your head is filled with nothing but steve.

he collapses on top of you, putting all of his weight onto you, hugging you from behind as you can hear his heavy breathing, still cursing as he praises you.

'my good lil' girl, pretty lil' baby.' he murmurs as he kisses your shoulders, when he's sure that every single drop of his cum is inside of you, he finally slips out.

he turns you around to face him, and you collapse in his arms, feeling dizzy, you hum. 'you're s'good, stevie.' you murmur weakly and it causes a smug chuckle out of steve, he gives your forehead a soft kiss.

'let's get you cleaned up, sweetheart.' you gaze up at him as he picks you up, carrying you with his strong arms.

his honey-glazed eyes are mesmerizing as they look down on you, you adoringly admire his features. he's so pretty after he cums, his beautiful hair lays messily on his forehead, and he has the most adoring gaze.

'wanna take a bath with me? so we can clean you up, pretty girl?' he asks, and you nod. 'mhmm, please.'

he carries you to the bathroom, and you let your hands run over his face, admiring his beauty marks and his always-perfect hair.

'so pretty.' you murmur as steve places you down, running the shower as he chuckles at your comment.

'thank you.' he hums as he places a kiss on your forehead, it's gentle and filled with endearment.

'for what?' you ask, confused.

'for the cake, for the coffees, for all the little things you do for me. and for caring about me, always.' his hands are soft as they cup your cheeks.

'i love you, pretty girl.' he murmurs.

'i love you too, stevie.' you giggle as your lips softly graze against his.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things imagines #steve harrington x y/n

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dreamescapeswriting · 10 months ago

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Stray Kids Reaction || You're Being Bullied

PAIRING: Skz X GN!Reader (Use of Mx in Jisung’s piece: Mx is an English-language neologistic honorific that does not indicate gender)

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

It had been happening for a few weeks now, whenever you were in the gardens of your University a group of four guys would regularly mock you and it was something that was ruining your love for painting.

"I was thinking I could bring you some lunch today, I can't stand the thought of you spending all your lunch hour painting in the gardens," Chan mentioned as he walked with you, his hand laced with yours but your heart began to thump with anxiety. You hadn't told him about the bullying yet, you didn't want it to seem as though it was bothering you even if it was.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, already being able to read you like a book. But your eyes were distant and your smile was strained at best and he knew something was bothering you.

"Channie," You breathed out, tears shimmering in your eyes as you finally revealed the torment you faced nearly every single day by the same group of people. Chan's heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he listened to you and he was going to kill anyone that had upset you.

"Who is it?"

"It's not a big deal, I-I'll just go back to painting from the window." You pleaded with him, not wanting to confront anyone about what they had been saying about you but Chan wasn't going to just let it go.

"It is a big deal," He breathed out, about to continue what he was saying when he heard laughter sounding from behind the two of you.

"I bet they think they'll be the next Vincent Van Gogh." The voice was nailed on a chalkboard for you and your whole body tensed up giving Chan all the confirmation he needed to know it was that group that was always starting on you.

Within seconds he was turning around to face them, his face red with anger, his eyes blazing as he stared at them,

"You have no right to mock their passion, to belittle their dreams! They are more courageous and talented than any of you could ever hope to be!" Your hands clutched onto Chan's arm, your heart thumping heavily.

Chan continued to yell at them and you stared up at him, each of his words filling you with more confidence than ever as you whimpered a little, he was like your knight in shining armour.

"Go, paint baby, I'm not done yet." Chan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you walked away, going to sit in the gardens and do some painting. From that day on, Chan was by your side every lunch you went down to the gardens just in case someone else had something to say.

MINHO:

Minho had decided that he was going to surprise you today with a small bouquet of all your favourite flowers, all morning long he had envisioned the look of surprise and joy on your face when he would see you. He'd finished up work earlier than he expected and wanted to surprise you as you came out of uni and he was heading to the spot he usually met you.

But his steps slowed down, his heart sinking as he heard harsh voices echoing around you as you stood there accepting their words. Fury built up inside of him the more he heard them speaking so badly about you.

"HEY! Enough!" He boomed as he walked toward you, the three men who had been surrounding you all paled at the sight of Minho as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Minho? They're with you?"

"Yeah, they're with me. What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He yelled at them, his tone firm and unwavering as they began to stutter and stumble over their words. Minho turned to look down at you, his gaze softening,

"Hey, sweetheart." He said gently, reaching out and kissing the top of your head.

"Have they been bothering you for a while?" You stared at him before looking at the three men who had been tormenting you for weeks on end and you nodded and by now they looked terrified.

"We didn't know they were with you!" One of them quivered as he stared at you, pleading with you to say something but you stared at Minho. He was the "it" boy in college, the one everybody loved and looked up to and no one messed with him.

"And that gives you an excuse to belittle someone? To make them feel smaller than you? Why? Because you have nothing else in that pea-sized brain of yours?!" By now Minho was beyond angry but you squeezed his hand a little, you were grateful for what he was doing but all you wanted was to go back home with him.

"You're lucky they're here," Minho hisses before wrapping his arm around you and taking you toward his car,

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. Minho smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"Always," He smiled warmly, kissing you softly this time.

CHANGBIN:

Changbin had his arms wrapped around you as you sat together on a bench in the University's garden, sharing a tender moment together for the first time in what felt like forever. You'd barely had enough time to breathe during your finals but now the two of you had time for another.

"I love spending time with you, everything feels perfect when we're together," You beamed up at him as he held your hands.

"Me too, Yn. You make everything brighter," He admits, your smile growing wider as you stared up at him, getting completely lost in his eyes when there were suddenly harsh whispers and mocking laughter surrounding you. Your smile faded,

"Look at her, they think they're so pretty." Someone mocked, making your heart drop, you already knew who they were but you'd hoped that they'd leave you alone if they saw you with Changbin.

"Yeah, like anyone would ever look at them twice." The second man cackled as if it was the funniest thing in the world for them. Changbin's eyes darken, his fists clenching as he listened to the cruel words directed at you.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" He yelled, his voice trembling with anger but you shook your head, trying to hide your hurt.

"It's okay. Let's just go," You whispered, you didn't want to cause more drama, you just wanted to enjoy your time with Changbin.

"No, it's not okay. They have no right to talk to you like that!" He was angry with them for talking to you that way and even more pissed off that they had bullied you into believing it was okay. There was no way he was going to let this slide.

"Oh, look who's standing up for his partner. How cute." One of them mocked, your stomach twisting as Changbin turned around to stare at them, quickly rising from where he had been sitting and walking in their direction.

"They're not just my partner. They're an amazing person and you have no right to tear them down." The two men seemed to realise they fucked up as they stared at him, your hands clutched onto Changbin's arm trying to get him to leave.

"We were just joking, man, can't they take a joke?" The first one grumbled at him but Changbin blinked at him,

"Jokes are supposed to be funny, do we look like we're laughing to you?" He waited for them to say something but you pulled at his arm,

"Binnie, let's just go...please."

"No, we're not leaving until they apologise." He folded his arms across his chest, the two men scoffed at you both and rolled their eyes.

"Fine. Whatever. We'll leave them alone." One of them grumbled, about to walk away but Changbin grabbed him by the hood of his jacket.

"Apologise." He growled out, and the man's voice trembled as he turned to face you, both of them apologising instantly and scampering off.

"Are you okay?" Changbin asked, his voice turning gentle as he checked on you.

"I will be, thank you for standing up for me." You sniffled a little and he wraps his arms around you. holding you close to him.

HYUNJIN:

"I bought snacks for our movie night, I also made sure to stock up on your favourite hot drink," You told Hyunjin excitedly as you practically bounced up and down in the hallway. The two of you were going to spend all weekend curled up in bed watching movies, finals were over and it was time to relax.

"Of course, they got the snacks, I bet they're mostly all for them," Someone snickered from behind you, catching the attention of Hyunjin who frowned a little. You beamed at him, trying to get him to ignore the two girls who had been starting on you all week long, you had no idea who they were but they'd decided you were a problem for them.

"It's going to be amazing," You told him as you took his arm in yours, about to pull him away when you heard giggling.

"They think they're all that," One of the girls mocked, snickering at the other girl who was staring at you both.

"Why would he want to be with someone like that anyway? He could have whoever he wanted and he's chosen the trash," Hyunjin's eyes narrowed as he stared at the two girls.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" He arched his brow at you and you took your head, trying to brush this off.

"It's nothing, just ignore them. It's not worth it."

"No, I won't let them talk about you like that." He grumbled,

"Prince Charming to the rescue," A boy stated as he wrapped his arm around the first girl, your stomach knotting as you stared at the three people who had made your life hell all week.

"We're just stating the obvious, you could have anyone and you're with that thing?" The words were like knives to your chest and you shuddered, looking down at the floor. As soon as Hyunjin saw your head down he lost his cool/

"Yn is an incredible person and deserves to be treated with respect! How would you like it, if someone picked apart your relationship?!" His voice was loud, gaining the attention of other people in the hall.

"We're just messing around, dude. Can't they take a joke?" The guy mumbled defensively,

"Hyunjin. Let's go." You whispered to him but he didn't move, he just stared at them.

"I love Yn, and anything you have to say to them can be said to me." The two girls stared at you, biting their lips as they looked sheepishly.

"We're sorry." They mumbled, you knew they didn't mean it but right now all you wanted to do was go home.

"Okay." You mumbled grabbing Hyunjin's hand and walking away from it all.

"I have two weeks left, I could have just ignored them forever."

"I don't care, you don't deserve to be treated that way," Hyunjin whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you crashing into his chest.

"You never have to face anything alone." He promised you.

JISUNG:

Jisung walked through the corridors trying to make his way to the courtyard to find you, he'd just picked you both up some lunch and was ready for a long break filled with nothing but food and cuddles with you but when he walked closer he froze in place.

"Look who it is, Little Mx perfect." Someone sneered, his eyes narrowed as he saw Tessa and Lucy - two girls he had once considered friends mocking you.

"Yeah, always with their nose in a book, like they're better than everyone else." Jisung's hands tightened on the food containers as he saw the distressed look on your face.

"What's going on?" Jisung asked, his voice filled with anger as he stared at you, he could already see how relieved you were to see him.

"Jisung, I.." You were trying to come up with an excuse, something you could say that wouldn't make him hate them since they were his friends.

"We were practising lines for a play," Tessa told him with a sweet smile, her body swaying from side to side to appear more innocent.

"Funny. I thought I heard you mocking Yn for reading their book," He placed the food containers down beside you and kissed the top of your head.

"No-"

"Is it because the two of you can barely read above a 5th-grade level between you that bothers you? Or that Yn is my partner?" He folded his arms across his chest and your mouth fell open hearing them talk to them the way that they had with you.

"Jisung!" Tessa squealed but he shook his head at them, he wasn't going to let this go on.

"How long has this been going on?" Jisung directed his question at you and you bit your lip.

"Since we got together," You admitted shyly and he hummed,

"If you can't treat my partner with respect I don't see why I should offer you respect back."

"You've known us longer!" Lucy screamed but Jisung shrugged his shoulders.

"Treat people the way you wish to be treated," He mumbled, taking your hand in his and picking up the food with the other before walking away. Checking on you as you both went to find another spot to sit in.

FELIX:

As soon as Felix had gotten the but dial from your phone he was working his way to you, his anger bubbling up more and more as he thought back to what he'd overheard. Two girls were confronting you about something, their voices dripping with malice.

"I think you should pour your drink on them, anything would be an improvement from that outfit." One of them giggled, Felix knew them as Bailey and Chloe, the university's "mean girls" because apparently it didn't end after high school.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you guys sat here." Your voice shook as you gathered up all your books, trying to move past them but Chloe pushed you back onto the seat.

"Are they addressing us?" She asked snarkily to Bailey who was giggling and undoing the lid to her coffee.

"Ew. Why do you think you could even speak to us?" Bailey asked, your head shaking as you tried to think of something to say.

"What's going on?" Felix asked as he jogged up to all three of you, your body relaxed as soon as you saw him.

"Why don't you go and mind your own business? This doesn't concern you." Bailey hissed at him, Felix ignored them as he pushed past them and checked on you.

"It does when you're harassing my partner." He grumbled at them,

"You're together?" Bailey's voice shook his time as she and Chloe stared at each other in complete shock.

"Did they hurt you?" Felix asked, ignoring them as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"We didn't know they were with you." Chloe defended but Felix scoffed at them.

"It shouldn't matter if they were or not! You should treat everyone with some fucking respect!" He grumbled at them, a tense silence washed over everyone as he stared at them, waiting for them to apologise to you but they just blinked at you both.

"Are you going to say sorry or not?" He bit out before they both stared at you,

"We're sorry, Yn. Truly. We didn't know." Bailey stuttered but you bit down on your tongue, Felix was right it shouldn't matter if you were a couple or not for them to start on you.

"Go." He mumbled to them before turning his full attention to you, checking on you as tears ran down your cheeks.

"Thanks for standing up for me, Lix." You breathed out before he pulled you into a comforting embrace.

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin lingered outside of your last class of the day, the two of you had plans to study after your classes had finished before going to dinner in the night.

"Did you see what Yn was wearing today? They look like they've raided a thrift store." Someone snickered as they left the class,

"Yeah, did you see the state of the shoes too? They're a complete disaster," The two men were so lost in their own conversation that they didn't notice Seungmin grabbing them both by their hoods.

"What did you say?"

"Seungmin! Don't!" You pleaded with him, this was going to be more hassle than it was worth. The two boneheads he was confronting didn't care who you were or who Seungmin was and they would go back to bullying you tomorrow.

"They do this a lot?" Seungmin arched his brow at you and you nodded shyly,

"So knucklehead one and two, want to tell me what about my partner is so funny to bully?" He slammed them against a wall, both of them groaning as they rubbed their shoulders from the impact.

"Relax man, we're just kidding around, right Yn?" They stared at you, both of them glaring as they tried to scare you into submission,

"R-Right-"

"Bullshit, I've seen the way they come out of the classes they share with you," Seungmin was beyond angry at this point, he knew something had been bothering you but he'd never been able to pinpoint it until now.

"I want you to apologise."

"Sorry." They both mumbled, completely unapologetic as you stared at them,

"Fucking mean it, you waste of space!" Seungmin mumbled to them, both of them stuttering as they began to apologise.

"I find out either of you have been talking about them again I'll rip your tongues out," Seungmin whispered in the sweetest voice he could manage before taking your arm around his and walking with you.

"Screw studying let's grab food and go to mine." He told you as you giggled, kissing his cheek softly.

"My knight in shining armour." You whispered.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin made his way back to the library with two hot drinks for you both, he'd decided it was time for a short break and a reward for studying together so hard but when he came back he froze in place.

"Who would even want to hang out with them? Such a nerd." Someone laughed from the table directly in front of yours, he knew the men as Levi and Christian and he instantly wanted to pour the drinks he was holding onto them. They got into the University because they were good and sports and not much else, never studied a day in their lives either.

"Nose buried in their books, they think they're better than everyone else around them," Levi hissed out, Jeongin's heart pounding with fury as he made his way over to stand behind the two losers talking badly about you. But the worst part was that you weren't looking up, as if you were used to the torment they were dishing out.

"They're too chicken to say anything too," Christian laughed, balling up some paper and throwing it at your head. You glanced up, your eyes widening as you saw your boyfriend standing behind them.

"Awh, is the little baby going to go cry to their boyfriend?" Levi asked before Jeongin placed his hands on both their shoulders, the drink resting on a shelf nearby.

"J-Jeongin?" Levi sputtered out, staring up at him as Jeongin stared down at him.

"Something to say, Levi?" He waited for them to repeat what they had been saying but they shook their heads violently.

"Stange, I could have sworn you were belittling my partner because they have brains." By now the two men were terrified and shaking their heads more, turning to look at you for help but you were laughing into your hands.

"N-No, we were just kidding around, having some fun," Christian mumbled but Jeongin hummed,

"Making fun of someone isn't fun, besides. I'm surprised you two have the intelligence to bully someone, let alone know where the library is." He picked up his drinks again and the two men began apologising profusely in your direction.

"Something funny?" Jeongin chuckled as he sat down beside you, your lips finding his as you kissed him deeply.

"Just how scared they are of you." You smirked, kissing him softly once again.

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 3] Bugging Question

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Acting as if you think everything is okay overwhelms you. As okay as things can be while you’re getting a divorce. Toji swears that he’ll sign the papers tomorrow morning, and for now you’re cuddling. You’re hearing some light snoring from his part, and you can’t fall asleep. Not because you’re bothered by his snores, you’re already used to them.

You might be pregnant. You’re thinking about that possibility, and the fact that you don’t know what you’d do if you were. That’s why you didn’t ask Toji to stop at a pharmacy on your way back home. You don’t want him to know because you have no idea what you’re going to do and you know Toji’s hopes of you staying together will go up if you find out that you’re pregnant.

“What would you do if I was pregnant?” You mindlessly ask, knowing that your husband is fast asleep. You so badly want to stay, and you need to find an excuse to do so. But no good excuse is coming up, you have no reason to stay. It’s selfish to want a pregnancy to have an excuse to stay with him. You know better.

Toji doesn’t love you, that’s why you’re leaving. If you have a baby, things will get worse. You can’t have a kid to try and fix this worthless marriage. Reasoning isn’t in your mind, you just want to stay with the man you love so badly.

“I’d be happy…” He’s sleep talking. Occasionally you say something while he sleeps and he answers, yet when you ask about it in the next morning, he doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t mean it, he’s babbling, but there’s a smile on your face.

“You would be? I thought you didn’t want kids.” You don’t know why you keep talking. His embrace tightens, and you feel yourself about to cry from happiness. It’s absurd. You’re delusional, you just want to stay with him. You have no idea why you’re slowly changing your mind after watching the movie.

“You know I love you.” He mutters, and you’re about to wake him up. You don’t want to get a divorce anymore. You take a moment to think about it, should you really wake him up? Maybe you can wait till tomorrow morning when you’re not so desperate to try and keep this all together. You find yourself weakest at night because his body is right next to you. You hear his heartbeat, his breathing, you take his scent, you feel his warmth; it’s hard not to be weak when your heart is heavy with love and he’s telling you that he reciprocates it.

You’re sure that in the morning you’ll be thinking the same exact thing. You need to stay with Toji. Until he mutters something else, and it isn’t your name. And the tears that are in your eyes spill, but they’re no longer tears of joy, on the contrary, they’re now tears of agony.

No matter what happens, you’re leaving.

You try to wiggle your way out of his arms, but his grip is too strong. You get away from him by mere inches, but he doesn’t waste any time in pulling you back so your back is pressed against him again.

You sigh.

Toji is gone in the morning, which doesn’t surprise you since he usually leaves to go to work early. You sit up on your bed, slowly gaining consciousness. You walk to the bathroom, and do your morning routine. You luckily have the day off since you knew you were moving out, you talked to your boss about it. You’ve been anticipating this day.

You think about your foolish thoughts of the previous night, your tired brain wanting to stay with Toji. Never in a million years will you stay with that man. You think that you’re over him, as soon as you can you’ll jump into the dating pool. Granted, you’ve completely forgotten about the fact that you possibly might be pregnant.

You go into the closet to grab the suitcases that you have packed, and you find them on the floor, one of them open and stuff has been taken out. Toji must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t care. You have time before he gets home. You can redo that suitcase, and you can neatly pack it up.

You change out of your pajamas into another comfortable outfit, after all, you are moving out. You grab your phone and look through your contacts, wondering who you can call for help. You don’t have your own car, and you want to avoid calling a taxi. Not only that, you have a lot of luggage and after moving there you have to go shopping for furniture. You don’t even have a bed to sleep on.

Everything could’ve been planned out much better, but you want to desperately get out. You barely have time to think anyway, so you won’t beat yourself up about it.

Your eyes land on a specific contact that you don’t know all that well: Shiu Kong, Toji’s friend and his best man at your wedding. You’re not too sure how they know each other, but you know that they’re friends. That’s all you know. You don’t have too many people to rely on, which is why your finger hovers over the contact. The only other person you can try to call is pregnant and you don’t– Fuck, pregnancy. Shit shit shit.

You have to take a test but you can’t do it here. Just thinking about that possibility makes your stomach churn. You want to be a mother but this situation is less than ideal. You can’t think about it, you have to focus on the task at hand. Which is why your finger clicks on the contact and you call him. The phone rings over and over again, and just as you’re about to hang up, he picks up the phone.

“Hello?” You nearly forgot how his voice sounded. You’re sure the last time you saw him was on your wedding night– No, it was a little after you moved into this apartment. Still, it was so long ago. He gave you his number in case any issue came up, and granted, you’ve never used it. “Who’s this?”

You tell him who you are, and it earns a laugh from him. He never really thought that you’d be using the number, but here you are. You feel a lump in your throat and with every passing second you get more and more anxious. Apart from Megumi, no one really knows about your separation from Toji. You hate saying it out loud, but you have to. “You live in town, right?”

“Uh… Yeah, what’s up?” He asks.

“Have you talked to Toji recently? Did he tell you what’s happening?” You question, and you hear a hum from the other side of your phone. You’re biting your bottom lip, asking yourself just how stupid you are. You were ready to do this alone but suddenly you’re scouring for someone to support you, and funnily enough, you landed on one of Toji’s friends. You sigh, “Can you do me a favor without contacting him?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t really hesitate which you appreciate.

“Are you too busy with work? I need to borrow you. It’s important.” You say.

“Guessing I’m your last resort.” He asks and you agree, trying to laugh it off. You don’t really have anyone to rely on. “Let me guess, you’re finally moving out.”

“I am.” You answer, and thankfully you don’t have to talk much before he tells you that he’ll be here. You hang up the phone and walk out of the room to the kitchen to try to eat something before your day officially gets started. There’s nothing too appetizing, you’re not doing the grocery shopping anymore which means Toji has taken over. It’s fair to say he’s horrible at the task. There’s only ketchup, mayonnaise, leftover rise and some other leftovers which you’re too scared to open.

You look into the pantry to find something else, and you only find some saltine crackers, which you take and begin to eat. You can’t be too picky right now. Just as you’re opening the pack, you notice some papers on the dining table, and you walk over to check what it is. You’re assuming it’s some paperwork that Toji has to sign, you overheard Megumi tell his father how he was planning on joining the baseball team and how he needed Toji to sign a couple of things and whatnot.

You feel your heart drop at what you find. You’d expect to find it on your nightstand, not on the dinner table. He just left it there for Megumi to see as well. And you have no idea why you’re about to cry since you’ve been begging him to sign those papers.

As you see the divorce papers, you realize that even though you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you’re done with Toji, that you don’t care anymore about this marriage or him, you still do. You very much care even though you’ve been trying not to.

You begin to cry, grieving a marriage that was never even worth it. You love him so much that it pains you. You bite down on your lip, holding back a sob as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to make yourself feel better by remembering all the bad times you’ve spent with him. Bad times were most prevalent in your marriage, so this shouldn’t be too bad, right?

So many insistences pop into your head where you’ve been begging for his love and you end up being an afterthought. It should make you feel better that this is happening, but you’re not; you’re devastated yet also bitter. Bitter because even though Toji claims that he loves you, he still couldn’t say your name.

You might be devastated, but the more you think about it, the more relieved you are.

It’s clear that you’ve been crying when Shiu picks you up. He doesn’t bother to ask much as he puts your luggage in the trunk and the backseat. He’s quiet when he drives to your new apartment, when you drop off your luggage, when he takes you shopping for new furniture, and when he’s finally about to leave you at your house. He helps you bring the boxes of unarranged furniture into the apartment and when he’s about to leave, he asks the question that you’ve been dreading hearing,

“Are you okay?” It earns a nod from you. You’re busy, you have to arrange a lot of furniture and then you have to go out to get yourself something to eat. He then asks, “Do you need any more help?”

“If you want to stay and arrange some furniture with me.” You try your best to smile at him, and he rolls up his sleeves. You never really thought Shiu meant when he told you that you could rely on him, but he proves himself as he helps you arrange the furniture. He’s doing most of the work on arranging the furniture while you try to help him.

“It’s a nice apartment… Small but nice.” Shiu says because after spending hours by your side, he’s tired of the silence. You hum in response, and it’s obvious you won’t continue the conversation. He hates the silence. There’s a question that bugs his mind but he knows better than to ask.

When he’s almost done arranging the bed frame, he tells you, “I think we forgot to buy you a mattress.”

“I can’t believe I forgot that.” You chuckle. Your mind is all over the place. You’ll just sleep on top of blankets for the night or something like that. Unless Shiu wants to go shopping with you again. Shiu’s phone rings and he stands up from the floor, excusing himself outside to pick up the phone.

You’re looking around the place, and you think about the possibility of pregnancy. Where would you fit a crib? How would you handle a baby? You have no idea what you’d do, and you’ll try not to think about it for now.

Your stomach growls, and you stand up as well. You pull out your phone to look up places near you to eat, and as you look at all the different places and you decide what you crave, you miss how Shiu is back in the apartment. When he speaks up, you jump a little since you’re startled. You end up clearing your throat before you ask him,

“Are you in the mood to eat anything?” He ends up shaking his head.

“Let’s finish here first.” He responds, and you awkwardly smile at him.

“I want to thank you for helping me out, Shiu. I know that we’ve barely talked, and I know that you’re Toji’s friend too.” You begin, watching as Shiu opens another box.

“I gotta say… I’m surprised this is all happening. Especially since you’re both… You know…” Shiu says as he pulls out all the pieces in the box. You tilt your head to the side and you ask him,

“Since…?”

“You both love each other.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. It’s all a lie, Toji doesn’t love you. He continues speaking, “But I knew this would happen eventually. Toji has never been a great husband, doubted he’ll be good as a second husband.”

“Yeah… He sucks.” You really can’t say much, knowing that speaking about it will end up in you in tears. Plus you doubt that Shiu wants to talk badly about his dear friend. “Is that why you told me I could rely on you?”

��Partially so.”

“You should’ve told me before I got married.” Or before you got pregnant… At least that’s what’s popping up into your head at this moment. You try to laugh.

“Would you have not gotten married?” He asks, and you end up sighing. You wouldn’t have stopped yourself. You wouldn’t have listened to anyone, especially when Toji assured you he loved you.

When there’s no response he says, “Let’s get something to eat.”

You don’t talk about anything important with Shiu at lunch. You take the opportunity to stop at a pharmacy to shop for what you need. You tell him you need something for your period, and Shiu doesn’t bother to ask questions.

“I’ll wait for you here.” Shiu says, and you nod in response. You rush inside and try not to run as you look for the pregnancy tests. When you finally find them, you run to the register to buy them. The cashier takes forever to do everything, and you’re so close to just throwing cash at him and running to the bathroom to take it.

You’re more and more impatient with each passing second, you can’t wait till you get home to take the test. When he’s bagging it up, you snatch the test out of his hands and run to the bathroom to take it. You can’t take too long, knowing that Shiu is waiting for you. If he asks about anything, you’ll say you had to change your pad or something.

This can’t wait another minute. You still have so much more to do, you have no idea when you’ll get home. Your eyes skeem over the instructions and you wipe down the seat before you do as the instructions say.

Your hands are shaking while you do everything. Your breath hitches and you’re trembling even more. You hear as the bathroom’s door opens and closes, and you’re scared of making a sound while people walk by.

You’re wondering why this is happening. You’re usually very careful, especially with Toji of all people because for some reason he doesn’t get a vasectomy although he doesn’t want more kids. You take a pill every single day to avoid this situation. Maybe under all the stress you forgot to take it once or twice which is a grave mistake considering you’ve ironically been having sex with Toji more than ever. Maybe you should’ve gotten an implant or an IUD, you wouldn’t be scared like this if you had either of those birth controls.

You’ll be fine. You close your eyes for a moment, and you take a deep breath. You’ll be fine. Totally fine. When you open your eyes the test will be negative. You know that when you open your eyes– You inhale before you open your eyes, and you see the results. Your eyes well up with tears as you wrap the test up with toilet paper before you throw it away. You walk out of the bathroom and try to contain your tears as you walk to Shiu’s car.

“Everything okay?” He asks when you get into the passenger seat. You can’t look at him as you hum in response.

“Heavy flow.” Is all you have to say, knowing that he won’t ask questions. He begins to dry, and you assume that he’s going to the closest place that sells mattresses. You agreed at lunch that you’d get a mattress and that’d be all. After that you’d be on your own.

Your head leans on the window, and you’re trying not to think about what you’re going to do next because you’ll end up bursting into tears, and you don’t want to explain anything to Shiu. You clear your throat before you tell him, “I really want to thank you for today, Shiu. I had no idea what I was going to do.”

“I told you that you can count on me, did I not? I’m a man of my word.” He says.

“Nothing like Toji.” You murmur, and he decides that he didn’t hear it. You feel the car come to a stop, and you furrow your brows before asking, “Why–”

You look at the building, and you scoff. You have no idea why you weren’t expecting this. You look at Toji, holding a bouquet of flowers, and you turn your head the other way because you don’t have the heart to look at him right at this moment.

“Can we just go please? I don’t have anything to talk to him about.” You say as Shiu rolls down the car window. Of course he isn’t on your side but he also doesn’t have to do this.

“Hi.” You hear Toji as he walks to the car door.

“Talk to him, at least one last time.” Shiu unlocks the car door. You glare at Toji and then at Shiu. You sigh before you open the car door.

“I doubt this is the last time we’ll talk.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

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mothandpidgeon · 2 months ago

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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, jealousy, angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you to everyone that read part 1!! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying it so far! I really would've liked to let this part simmer a little longer but I'm holding myself to this publishing schedule. It's time to yeet this into the world. I'd love to know what you think. Your comments and reblogs give me so much joy!

Thank you @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thank you @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me bitch about this and supporting me always.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aunt Margot says.

You’re putting the finishing touches on your make up in the Page’s office. Usually you’d go back upstairs but you don’t feel like hearing it from Ezra.

“Thanks. I have a date,” you say, packing your mascara in your purse.

“Oh,” she replies, not hiding her disappointment in the slightest.

You hadn’t intended to see Connor again but when he texted you, you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. He invited you to his place to check out his vinyl collection which sounds like an insufferable version of Netflix and Chill but you have no plans to listen to a single record. You just want to fuck in his bed and avoid any drama with Ezra.

“Well I hope you’ll put as much effort in for the equinox,” she says. She flips the sign in the door from open to closed then snaps her fingers to turn off the overhead lights.

You and Margot host the coven for the equinox each year which already means extra preparations in addition to work at the bookshop.

“Why would I do that?” you ask. You don’t wear make up for moon rituals, don’t wear much of anything at all.

“Esme is bringing River,” she says with a casual shrug.

“No” you groan.

“He’s visiting from Ireland,” she tells you.

The last time you saw Esme’s grandson you were both in high school. River was built like a string bean, his upper lip dusted with the saddest mustache— if you could even call it that. He reeked of some badly brewed potion that was supposed to attract lovers. You still gagged when you smelled licorice root.

“Good for him,” you say. “Please do not set me up with River.”

“I’m not a matchmaker, dear. I’m just trying to expand your sexual horizons,” Margot replies.

Suddenly, Connor’s vinyls don’t sound so bad after all.

—

Ezra pads through crystals and altar bells. Everything’s been laid out on Aunt Margot’s paisley scarves— scrying bowls and athame blades and jars of rain water all waiting to be charged by the moon of the autumn equinox.

It’s just after midnight and the witches of your coven are gathered in a small clearing far enough into the woods that stray mortals won’t stumble upon them. The air smells fresh and cold like mountain spring water. A bonfire crackles, layered with herbs and pine needles.

The waning moon feels heavy and close like it might just fall out of the sky and nick Ezra’s ear. It makes him feel uneasy. Then again, it’s hard to enjoy these rituals when he can’t participate the way he once did.

Ezra watches you offer mulled wine to Esme and River, steaming cups scented with cinnamon balanced on an antique silver tray. You look beautiful in your simple white dress. It glows in the moonlight and he can see your body silhouetted beneath the fabric of its long skirt by the fire.

He’s never cared much for Esme but, then again, he doesn’t have many kind words for any of the Elders even if the ones that cursed him are long dead. Even if he deserved that curse. She wears her long hair coiled on top of her head, a jade hair pin perched in its nest the same way her familiar, a tired old owl, watches from the branch of one of the trees.

Ezra’s attention isn’t with Esme tonight. He’s keeping a close eye on her grandson.

“He totally sucks. Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you’d implored.

Ezra would be wary of him whether or not you’d asked. River is nothing like how you’ve remembered him to Ezra. He must’ve done a lot of growing up since your last encounter. Tall and lean with thick waves of auburn hair. He’s the kind of witch that even Ezra would have taken to bed when he was human.

He sees the way River looks at you, watches him turn the charm on as he smiles. River’s eyes travel down your body and Ezra knows exactly what he sees. Waves of hot jealousy consume Ezra from nose to tail. For a moment, he worries he’ll get another thousand years added on to his sentence.

After some small talk, Esme wanders away and that's Ezra’s cue. He slinks up between you and River, rubbing up against your legs to let you know he’s ready to bail you out.

River swallows his drink with a chuckle.

“That tastes just how I remember it. Me and Moss used to sneak glasses of Ariadne’s mulled wine when we were thirteen,” he explains.

“Me too. Although I’m pretty sure Margot knew,” you say with a laugh.

“Little mage, you asked me to fetch you when the oils were ready,” Ezra says.

“Oh,” you say, throwing a self conscious smile at River. “I’ll go in a minute, Ez.”

“Margot could use your assistance,” Ezra adds.

“Why don’t you go help her and I’ll be there soon,” you suggest.

Ezra can’t help but glare up at River.

“Would that I had opposable thumbs,” he responds.

You laugh. River doesn’t. You crouch down and glide your hand down Ezra’s spine.

“It’s okay, Ez. I’m good,” you tell him and you wink at him.

His blood turns molten as you turn back to River and continue your conversation. He wants to hiss and claw at him, draw blood. It feels like you’re slipping through his fingers not that he ever held a claim. Not that he even has fingers anymore. He’s completely powerless, standing at your feet like the dumb animal he is.

Rather than watch you moony over River, Ezra turns away and slinks off to the edge of the gathering to sulk. The fire’s warmth doesn’t quite reach and he presses back his ears to stave off autumn’s chill. He can’t run off into the woods the way he’d like to, not without raising questions from the other witches, make you look like you can’t control your familiar.

He can’t stop his eyes from wandering back to you. Your head thrown back in laughter, your hand on River’s forearm. Each moment of your joy is like a knife in his heart.

Ezra’s eventually relegated to the circle where the familiars commiserate. River’s is a jet black bird named Rhea who turns her beak up at him. He’s not one of them, not really. He was human himself with a familiar of his own but that’s not the only reason why they scorn him. They all know that he’s the worst kind of witch.

There are many reasons why a witch might be turned into a cat but there’s only one crime that was punished with 1000 years— murder. And not just any murder. Ezra desecrated the life of another witch and, no matter how loyally he serves you, he’ll always have that stain.

The rituals are done, the chanting. The embers from the fire float up through the trees towards the fat moon. Then the dancing begins. It’s erratic and joyful, Ezra can remember the ecstasy of it in his bones. Esme lets down her white hair and one by one the witches disrobe.

He hears your laughter as you spin, shoulders shrugging with the pulse of the magic that swirls around the bonfire.

He knows he shouldn’t look at you like that. Not you. Not here. You’re not putting on a show, you’re doing your magic. But the way your body moves against the glow of the fire is its own enchantment. He could worship you like the moon.

The spell is broken just as quickly. River’s right beside you, bare skin radiant, muscles rippling with his own rhythm. His fingers tangle with yours and Ezra feels acid in his throat.

The whole night becomes an assault on his senses. The sound of chanting rises, the old words frantic and savage. Amber and patchouli mix with the woodsmoke to choke him. Grotesque shadows fall over the faces of the witches like a carnival of horrors. And then there’s you— incandescent and naked and whispering something in River’s ear that has him grinning. Ezra’s hair stands on end.

“Come dance with me!” you giggle as you leave the circle of merriment. Your teeth are stained purple, drunk on wine and magic.

“I’m quite content here,” Ezra lies.

“Are you having fun?” You ask but you don’t wait for his answer. “River is…wow. He did not look like that when we were kids.”

You pick Ezra up and whirl around in a circle. He smells the incense of your skin, the alcohol on your breath.

“You’re going to get your wish. I’m finally going to fuck a proper witch!” you say.

You toss Ezra in the air and catch him. The bile has come so far up his throat it’s an absolutely nauseating sensation.

“Enough!” Ezra hisses. He swats at you with his claws bared.

You yelp and drop him. Before he even hits the ground, he feels it— a searing hot pain that makes his back arch. You’re defending yourself with your powers like a reflex. He lets out a yowl and just as quickly it passes.

Ezra staggers and looks up to find you with tears in your eyes. He’s never seen you looking so hurt, betrayed. Your jaw quivers. Ezra landed on his feet but he feels upside down. He’s realizing what he’s just done, that he tried to hurt you because he’s pathetic. Jealous.

“Ez,” you say, your voice strangled.

Like a coward, he takes off, ignoring you as you call after him.

—

It’s the sound of the cat flap that wakes you sometime after sunrise. You’re sprawled out on your bed, head aching, eyes swollen. You’re still wearing your white dress, you threw it on before going after Ezra but it was no use. He was as black as the shadows in the forest and had slipped away under some bushes.

You abandoned the equinox celebration and went home in hopes he’d be there. You waited. Alone with your guilt and anxiety.

I’m sorry. Please come home. You were never very good at telepathy but you tried to reach out to him with your thoughts.

The sound that he made echoed through your mind as you paced the floor. Strangled, terrified. You tried to stop yourself from picturing him out there in the dark shaking with pain.

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was involuntary. As soon as his claw grazed your skin, your powers flared. Maybe if you hadn’t been drunk you could’ve controlled it. It happened so quickly you still can’t be sure of how strong it hit him.

Even if it was just a momentary shock, you saw just how much damage that moment did. His hair standing on end, his tail rod straight. But what really crushed you was the look in his eye.

Suddenly you were just as horrible as every other witch that he’d served. You’d used your powers to punish him, to harm him. Every promise you’d ever made to him had broken in that instant.

You see Ezra’s slim form dart to your doorway. In a flash, he slips under the bed and your heart sinks into your ankles.

“Ez,” you say, your voice ragged from the night’s festivities.

He doesn’t answer. You press your eyes shut and swallow hard then crawl to the edge of your mattress. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge. On top of everything else there’s a hangover churning in your gut. You guess you deserve that, too.

“Ezra, are you ok?” you ask. Whatever words of atonement you pieced together before you cried yourself to sleep have dissolved.

He’s in the furthest corner beneath the bed, tucked against the wall with his tail wrapped tight around his body. You think you might burst into tears again seeing him cowering away from you.

“I hope I didn’t make you fret,” he says.

You want to scoop him into your arms and hold him as tight as you can but it feels like you’ve lost that privilege.

“I’m so sorry, Ez,” you say, climbing down to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I'm sick over it.”

“You were well within your rights. You’re my master and I struck you,” he says. “I’m the one that should beg forgiveness.”

To hear him call you his master makes you feel even worse than before. There’s no amount of tuna belly that will make this right.

“No. It was my fault. And I promise I’ll never use my powers on you again. Ever,” you say.

His gold eyes shift away.

“Keep your apologies,” he says. “And I see I’ve kept you from your new paramour. Another act to add to my contrition.”

“I don’t care about that.” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the prospect of taking River to bed, none of this would’ve happened.

“Nonsense, little mage. You’re a witch. Be with other witches,” Ezra says.

–

River’s in the bookshop when you arrive, standing opposite Aunt Margot. When you couldn’t convince Ezra to come out from under the bed, you decided to give him space. Maybe you could distract yourself re-alphabetizing the cookbooks. You were hoping for some quiet but you’re confronted by the very attractive witch you’d been flirting shamelessly with the night before.

You know you look a mess, your face still feels puffy. River, on the other hand, looks like the definition of a sight for sore eyes. Freshly showered and dressed in a well pressed shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows, the sun is streaming in the front window outlining his still-damp hair like he’s Prince Charming himself.

“There you are!” Margot calls.

You smooth your hand across your top nervously as she appraises you. You threw on a more than slightly wrinkled shirt that was languishing on the floor of your bedroom, too preoccupied to put together a real outfit.

“Looks like we had too much of Ariadne’s little potion,” she says.

“I have a tonic that’s great for that,” River says with a smile. “But coffee’s faster.”

He hands you a steaming paper cup from the cafe down the street. He and Margot have their own perched on the counter. You take a sip and are surprised to find that it’s your regular order.

”Are you clairvoyant, too?” You ask.

River blushes. “Nah. Margot told me how you take your coffee,” he chuckles.

It's so thoughtful and you’re not feeling very deserving. You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“I wanted to go foraging around here but I really need a local,” he says.

“That sounds fun,” you say half heartedly in an attempt to demure. You’re not really up for a good time but it feels like a real asshole move to turn River down considering he brought you coffee after you ditched him at the bonfire. Margot is beaming at the register.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t I get you a basket?”

—

River carries the basket now overflowing with mushrooms and wild herbs. You’re deep in the woods, branches crunching beneath your shoes. Nature’s sounds echo around you, starlings and chipmunks, the constant whoosh of the breeze through the turning leaves.

This path is overgrown but you know it well. You spent your childhood getting lost in these woods. They have their own magic.

Your guilt overshadows the date. If it is a date. River seems to think it is if the way the back of his hand keeps brushing against yours is any sign. It’s hard to enjoy it especially when your mind keeps drifting off. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re only half-listening as he tells you just how mystical the vibes are at Stonehenge.

You stop at a stream, sitting on a fallen tree that’s overgrown with moss. It’s one of your favorite spots. The water sparkles where the sunlight spills though the branches, peacefully trickling over rocks. You pick up one of the smooth stones and trace its wet surface with your thumb.

You’ve sat in this very spot before feeling just as shitty. Heartbroken then, too, trying to figure out if you could call it a break up when you hadn’t actually been anything official. She hadn’t wanted anything complicated and you swore your feelings wouldn’t get involved. Unfortunately they had their own plans.

Ezra found you there, sulking by the stream, wondering if anyone would think you were worth breaking their own rules for.

It struck you how quiet he was. There were no anecdotes about what the witch scene was like in 1924 or tips for mouse hunting, indoor versus outdoor. He just padded into the water and nudged a little stone towards your feet. It was just big enough to fit in your palm and it was cool against your skin as you held it there.

“A thing of beauty,” he said and he head butted your shins affectionately.

It was. Round from years, maybe decades under the water’s friction. A dull gray cut through the middle by a wedge of some crystalline mineral like shards of broken glass. You recall exactly what it looks like because it still sits on your night stand. Each time you see it you’re reminded of how Ezra slumped down beside you, his warm body weight like a cozy blanket, a faint purr reverberating through him.

“You’ve got a big heart, little mage,” he said.

You choke up at the memory, unsure if Ezra would ever think that again. You certainly wouldn’t say it about yourself today.

“Either you’re really hungover or something’s bothering you,” River says gently.

You laugh tearfully and he rubs a circle on your back. You try to shake your head but River doesn’t give it up, looking at you with a soft concern.

“I really fucked things up with Ezra last night,” you admit. Telling him what a cruel witch you are might be a huge turn off but the feeling of his palm through your shirt makes you feel at ease.

“Ezra?” he asks.

“My familiar,” you remind him.

“Oh.”

“He scratched me and —”

“He hurt you?” he asks, face painted with righteous indignation.

“No. He barely got me. I totally overreacted,” you say. “I used my powers on him. It was just a reflex, you know? But…I just feel awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tells you with a relieved chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If that’s true then why do you hate yourself?

“If Rhea was out of line I’d do the same,” he goes on.

You wince at the thought.

“You’d hurt her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve never had to. She knows who’s boss.”

You’ve always considered Ezra a partner. Of course, there are plenty of witches that think of their familiars as nothing more than servants. It’s an old school way of seeing it. You hadn’t expected River to use words that remind you of the way your grandmother used to talk.

“Maybe it’s different,” you say, trying to give him the opportunity to walk it back. Ezra’s not like Rhea. Maybe you’d feel the same way River does if your familiar hadn’t once been as human as you are. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

“You’re a funny little witch,” he says with a grin.

“What does that mean?” you ask.

“Crying over your familiar. It’s sweet.” He says it as if it’s a compliment but the condescension makes you frown in disgust.

“If you want to make it up to him, why don’t you find him a lady cat that can make him feel good,” he adds with a laugh.

“Is that what you’re into?” you ask with venom.

“What? That was a joke,” River says.

“I don’t think it’s funny. You know, just because Ezra’s a familiar, it doesn’t mean he should be treated like shit. And he’s not a cat. He’s a human,” you tell him.

“He’s a witch killer,” River spits back. “So I’m sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him.”

Your stomach turns. It’s the truth. Ezra’s served as a familiar in your family for centuries, his history has never been hidden from you and he’s never shied away from it.

But his punishment has never made sense to you. A thousand years, so many lifetimes, watching his friends and family die as he toiled in servitude for witches as backwards as River. It’s cruel, that’s why the Elders changed the laws years ago. And yet Ezra’s remained a cat, a familiar, disdained.

Suddenly, the anger you’ve been tormenting yourself with turns outwards and you think your powers could set fire to the dry leaves at your feet. It’s all so unfair. The Elders turned him and witches like River scorn him and none of them feel a lick of shame. The back of your neck heats with a protective rage.

“He’s my friend,” you choke. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

And you leave River speechless in the middle of the woods.

🐈‍⬛

Part 3

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated! My inbox is always open.

#ezra prospect #ezra x f!reader #witchy #ezra prospect x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #ezra x witch!reader #halloween

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formulaforza · 22 days ago

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miss americana and the heartbreak prince

—09. Sweet Nothing —word count: 8.5k —warnings: none :) love, mack... sorry. SORRY. you can't even begin to imagine how different my life is from when i last updated. SORRY. technically I got paid to write this lol.

Charles turns up to pre-season testing with a gifted case on his phone. It’s from Reid, FORZA CHARLES written in his best handwriting, colored red with his new set of crayons from his birthday. It’s been on his phone since the five-year-old gifted it to him because Reid was too excited about it for Charles to do anything but put it on.

Reid had carefully explained that it was a good luck charm—but that Charles is not allowed to be mad if it didn’t have enough luck, since he had to rush to make it before Charles had to leave.

Reid had played it so incredibly cool ( see: jumping around Chris' kitchen after school squealing like a baby pig ) when Chris had shown him a picture of Charles with the phone case on in the paddock. There’s a certain softness that she feels watching his excitement over something so small, something that gets this kid so incredibly excited because he thinks Charles is so cool. There’s something soft, and there’s also something so incredibly terrifying about it. That she let Reid develop this relationship—even if oh-so-small—with Charles, because now if it goes wrong, if it sours… not only is it going to screw her up in the head royally, but now she’s going to have to explain it to Reid, too. To break his heart, too. She thinks Charles is completely clueless as to the amount of people he’s got completely wrapped around his finger.

Reid, in all his pure and unadulterated joy, insists that Chris call him up so Reid can share in the joy with her boyfriend--because no matter how many times she attempts to explain it to the kid, he can’t fathom the idea of timezones.

Chase has always been so good at navigating them, even though he has ever been only, at most, a few hours off the time at home. He’s never missed a bedtime story or a goodnight kiss if he could help it. They’ve always been so good at it, him and Hannah, that Reid is truly unable to conceptualize why someone away at a race can’t talk on the phone with him.

“He’s sleeping, Reid,” Chris says, shaking her head, and taking her phone back from his grubby hands. “I’m not calling him in the middle of the night.”

“It’s not the middle of the night!” He protests, and he’s not wrong. “It’s just after school time.”

Chris sighs. “But he’s not here. He’s somewhere far away, remember? We talked about this before he left?”

“No! Facetime him!”

She rolls her eyes. They go back and forth for some time like that, her arguing with a five-year-old about time zones. It’s only becoming clearer that there are only two ways for this to end. Either Reid throws the fit of all fits until Hannah gets off work to come pick him up, or Chris calls Charles. If she hadn’t spent all day already keeping five-year-olds from throwing a tantrum, she might have had the strength to endure another grumpy kid. But, she had spent the day on eggshells, so she makes the call and hopes his phone is turned off so it doesn’t wake him up.

Despite her hopes, he answers, even though it’s past midnight there. She’s apologizing before she can even make out the shape of his face on the dark screen. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. His voice is groggy and sleepy and he speaks through a yawn, shaking his head in a dismissal of her apology. “Es-tu…” he groans. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” She quips. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Reid just wanted to say hello. I promise it won’t be more than a minute.” Momentarily, she considers shoving her nephew into the pantry where it’s dark. Where the bright light of Chris’ kitchen isn’t going to hurt Charles’ eyes in the dark of his room.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, and God. God, he looks so sleepy and sweet and if she didn’t feel so horribly guilty for waking him up, she’d be thinking about how badly she wants to kiss him. He turns on a lamp and cringes at the brightness of it. Her wince is disguised as a smile. “Where is he?”

Here, she says, handing the phone off to Reid, a half-scold, half-warning leaving her lips in the form of be quick. He grabs her phone with the heel of both his palms, keeping his greasy snack fingers off her screen, setting it down with a light clatter onto the countertop, forehead peeking in at the bottom of the screen. “Hi, Chuck!” Reid greets. “Auntie Chris says you’re sleeping!” he giggles.

“Auntie Chris was right,” Charles laughs softly, and now she just wants to kiss him. She doesn’t get to see him sleepy nearly as much as she’d like to, as much as other girlfriends get to see their boyfriends sleepy.

She manages to swallow the guilt gnawing away at her bones, silence the already rehearsed apologies she’ll be uttering the next time they speak, and just listens fondly to Charles entertaining Reid. He's so patient. So kind in his efforts to get close with her family. He doesn’t have to do that—seriously. Most people wouldn’t talk to their girlfriend’s nephew on the phone in the middle of the night. Then again, most people wouldn’t fly a quarter of the way around the world for that same nephew’s fifth birthday party—or travel that same distance for a family wedding on a fifth date. In fact, most people would be so put off by the idea of having to do those things, they would never in a million years entertain the idea of dating someone who lives around the world. Most people wouldn’t, and yet. Charles would. Charles does. Each and every time, he does.

— — —

“So, he comes up to me, right?” She laughs, “I’m trying to give a reading test, and he walks up, and I almost tell him to go sit back in his seat because he’s supposed to be silent reading,” She continues. It’s 12:03 am, at least that’s what her microwave clock tells her. It’s 12:03 am in Georgia and when they’d gotten on Facetime twenty-one minutes ago, he’d told her exactly two things.

One—the car is shit. Two—I don’t want to talk about it.

So, she didn’t ask any questions and instead launched into the story she’d been anxiously waiting to tell him all about since it had happened that morning at school.

“But before I can say anything,” she explains to her phone camera—to him, on the other side of the globe— “He says, ‘Um, Miss Elliott, um, my tooth falled out,’' She grins, and Charles matches her expression because even across continents it’s a contagious smile. It was the first time any of her students had lost a tooth in class, and the room proceeded to erupt into chaos, she would continue to tell him. “It was crazy,” she laughs. “I didn’t know what to do with him.”

“So what did you do?” Charles asks, laughing himself.

“I took him and his tooth down to the office,” she says, half out of breath. “And I let them handle it. I was way out of my depth. The nurse brought him back like, ten minutes later with a plastic tooth necklace that held the tooth all day.”

— — —

Chris is cozied up on the couch with Bean, babysitting the dog for her parents while they traveled to Vegas for her brother’s race when Charles DNFs in Bahrain.

Her heart sinks, through the couch and through the floor and deep into her non-existent basement. It might even go all the way through the world and into Australia to wait for Charles to get there in a few weeks.

Once he’s out of the car and they show him on camera, he looks so annoyed. Defeated and annoyed in a way she isn’t sure she’s ever seen him, and like he could use a hug. A bear hug. She wants to stick her arms through the television and around him and hug him and kiss him and make him laugh and get that look off his face. She wants the car to turn into a person she can fight. To kiss him all over and run her finger through his helmet hair until he forgets about it for a little while. To tell him how she’s sorry. And how she. How she… how she likes him so much.

How, maybe someday. Someday, in a vast and distant future, she loves him so much that it scares her to think about for more than a moment. How—again, maybe someday in a timeline she can't imagine yet—she thinks of him constantly. How he’s burrowed his way into her skin and how every time she sees the color red she doesn’t think of it as angry or harsh or mean, she just thinks of him.

How she loves him, maybe, and it’s wholly terrifying. She hates that she loves him, maybe, because she knows it’s only a matter of time. She’d really, truly hoped he would come to his senses before it got to this point, this drowning slowly in his honey words and soft smile, hoped that he would have found her too much and too messy and not worth all the energy and time and money. But he hasn’t. He hasn’t, and now she loves him, maybe, and has nowhere to put all this fear.

She waits for him to call her, and he does, hours later when it’s got to be the middle of the night there. She can’t keep the time difference straight and has googled it at least half a dozen times today alone.

“Did you watch?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound defeated, not like he had during testing. He sounds… dejected, if anything but normal.

“Yeah,” she says, even though there wasn’t much to watch.

“They’re saying on Twitter I looked hot,” he chuckles, and it puts a soft smile on her face. She pulls her knees to her chest, picking at the lint on the knees of her leggings. “At least I have that going, huh?”

“You always look hot,” she says, her smile growing.

“True,” he says, and he follows it with a laugh. An honest to god laugh that makes her heart swell.

“Besides the obvious,” she says, adjusting in her seat, “It was a good race.”

“It was definitely not a good race,” he chuckles.

Chris continues to pick at her leggings. They’re covered in lint from her blanket and hair from the dog. “Well, I thought it was good. I know you didn’t finish, but… if you had,” she smiles gently. He was on track for a podium. If he had finished.

“But I didn’t,” He sighs himself into a perfect frown.

“Eh,” she waves it off with her hand. “Semantics, semantics. Rose and thorn.”

“Rose and thorn,” he nods, quirking a brow. “What is rose and thorn?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “you know. Like… take the good with the bad? The rose and the thorn,” she explains. “You were having a good race—rose. You didn’t finish the race—thorn.”

“Ah,” he says, his head dropping down into a chuckle. “Rose and thorn, yes.”

— — —

One thing you learn when you’re the aunt of a five-year-old little leaguer is that every single team is actually just a major league baseball team rebranded for whatever city these elementary schoolers are playing in. Same names, same logos—sometimes they’ll change the color scheme, but sometimes they can get away with keeping it. In Reid’s case, they kept even the color scheme.

Chris supposes this makes her outfit choice for his season opener significantly easier. It’s sunny and sixty-five degrees and Chris is wearing a Detroit Tigers sweatshirt—Navy blue with a white old English D embroidered on the front—and a pair of blue jeans. Reid’s tee-ball team is oh-so derivatively named the Dawsonville Tigers.

It’s Reid’s third year playing baseball, his third year playing tee-ball. Next year, he’ll get to move up to the real little league, which will only give Chase and Hannah a million more practices and tournaments, and games to travel to. Reid is counting down the days until he gets to play with the bigger kids. Chase and Hannah… not so much.

They, along with the rest of the family, have grown relatively attached to the comedy show of a bunch of preschoolers chasing baseballs around a bunch of gravel. Chase is an assistant coach, and he’s been swearing up and down in the family group chat that at least ten of the fifteen kids on the team know they’re supposed to run to first base after they hit a fair ball. At least ten of them, and the coaches are working hard to get the other five on track as soon as possible.

Chris and Hannah sit in folding camping chairs behind the fencing catching up while they watch the show, sipping boxed wine from Hannah’s secret purse-stash in their matching YETI wine tumblers.

The conversation starts with a rundown of the team this year—of the moms, more importantly. Which ones Hannah likes, and which ones look at her like she’s still a nineteen-year-old with a baby she doesn’t know what to do with. It’s a common thing for Hannah, even now that she’s got a settled career and a house and a whole life with Chase. It doesn’t matter, not to the bitter southern housewives with nothing better to do than spend their time hating other women.

It starts there. And somehow, with the quick exclamation of Oh! You’ll never believe what Miss Julie told me about Kacie! The two girls are deep in gossip about someone from high school’s relationship. It always seems to go like this, when Hannah gets this endless well of gossip from work, from the hours spent waiting for bleach to process and colors to develop in the salon.

“But wait, forget about that!” Hannah laughs. “How’s Charles!? Your dad said he had a shit race?”

Chris furrows her brows, swallowing a sip of wine. “My dad knows how his race went?” She asks, and Hanah shrugs. “I mean, yeah, he did,” she chuckles. “Power unit issues, even though they literally replaced the battery and the ECU that morning. They have to replace the whole thing, so he’s going to have to take a penalty next race too,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “For the ECU that they just replaced.”

Hannah scowls. “That’s fucked,” she laughs, covering her mouth, doing a poor job at concealing her wine giggles. “He’s coming to visit in a couple weeks, right?”

“Mmhm,” Chris hums. “He’s like…” she laughs, “so geeked out about coming to one of these games. I told him they’re so boring, but. He’s adorable.”

“I’m sure he’s more geeked about other things,” Hannah teases, playfully shoving Chris’ shoulder. “Long distance fucking sucks for the sex life,” she giggles. Chris blushes bright red, holding her hands up in surrender before taking a long sip of wine and asking for a refill.

Chandler shows up somewhere between the third wine tumbler and the fourth inning of the baseball game. She’s in her work clothes, complete with the kitten heels that sink into the muddy grass with every step she takes. She taps the opposite shoulder of Chris that she stands behind, and Chris falls for it, turning back the other way to see her, to smile genuinely because they haven’t had the chance to get annoyed with each other yet, haven’t had the chance to get annoyed with each other since they last saw the other at Chase and Hannah’s wedding.

“Are you still with that guy?” She asked, from her seat in Chris’ camping chair. She felt too bad watching her heels sink in and out of the mud, so now she leans against the fencing while Chandler sits. “The French one?”

Chris nods, her arms crossed over her chest. “Monegasque,” she corrects. “But yes. Still together.”

“Hmm,” Chandler hums curiously, picking at her cuticles. “Are you ever going out to see him?” She asks.

“Uh,” Chris sighs, dragging her toe through the gravel, drawing harsh lines and kicking up dust. “I’m gonna fly out for spring break,” she says. “But he wants me away from Monaco.”

“He wants you to stay away?” Chandler asks, and Chris doesn’t miss the tone of voice, eyes darting to Hannah to confirm the condescending tone she already knows she heard. Hannah closes her eyes before she can roll them, and takes a sip of her wine, leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs.

“Not like that, Chan, come on,” Chris sighs. “I don’t want to be there. We don’t want to be there. It’s too hard, everyone knows him there and we don’t want anyone to know me.”

“So, he’s hiding you?”

“No,” Chris shakes her head, pursing her lips together. “We’re being private. He’s trying to protect me.”

“Alright,” Chandler chuckles, putting her hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, I never would have hidden Lex.”

Chris’ head physically recoils, forcing a scoff out of her mouth. Hannah laughs, too. “You literally hid Lex for two years,” Hannah says. “Like, genuinely you hid her from all of us.”

“That’s different,” Chandler argues. “I wouldn’t have hidden her if she was a man.”

“And Charles wouldn’t be ‘hiding’ me,” She says, forced air quotes around the word she can’t come up with a synonym for. “If every woman he interacts with wasn’t crucified,” she defends. “Can’t you just give him the benefit of the doubt, Jesus.” Chandler rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone, answering texts or emails or whatever else is so pressing as a distraction from the current conversation. “Seriously?”

“What?” Chandler spits, rolling her eyes. “I’m just looking out for you, Chris. You don’t have the greatest track record with guys, so forgive me for being hesitant to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Chris bites her tongue, literally, and purses her lips. She nods, watching the dead serious look in her sister’s eyes with a glare of equal intensity. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of death stares, Chris puts a pretty smile on her face. “I’m really happy you came all this way, Chandler,” she grins, slipping her phone into her back pocket. “I’m sure Reid will be thrilled to see you,” she continues. “He missed you at his birthday party,” she adds, squeezing her sister’s shoulder as she passes, walking away and kicking up gravel when she does it.

Saudi Arabia is no better. He has a great qualifying, but he also has that pesky grid penalty and a Ferrari that just doesn’t seem to have anything even close to race pace. The car just feels… so undriveable. So unpredictable. One corner it’s all oversteer, and the next it’s a completely different car, fully understeery. It’s just. It’s terrible, really, and he’s known it since the first time he got in the car.

It doesn’t help that he spends the whole race stuck behind Carlos, who seems to have just as much pace as he does. He calls Chris that night, so fucking angry, and she gets an earful, one that he immediately apologizes for dumping on her after he’s gotten it all out.

“It's okay,” she tells him. “I’m just glad that your bad days don’t line up with mine,” she joked, and he laughed because it’s impossible not to laugh at her jokes, even when he feels like shit. “Better days are coming,” she promised, and he wanted to believe her, but he also knew this car inside and out.

“Not soon enough,” he told her, and she smiled. He can’t get enough of her smile.

“Patience, grasshopper,” she teased, holding up both her hands in a meditative pose, humming out an ommm.

“You are so dumb,” he giggles.

“Oh, please,” she says, opening her eyes, relaxing again. “You love me.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence. So heavy that it can’t even be blamed on FaceTime lag.

His brain is malfunctioning; heart racing, palms clammy, entire body sweating thinking she knows. Thinking he’s been entirely too obvious about it and not done nearly as good of a job as he thought. You should tell her. You should tell her. Yes. Yes, I do love you. I love you so much I don’t know how to tell you. I love you so much that I’m scared telling you is going to mess it all up.

He can’t tell her like this, though. Not now, when he’s halfway around the whole and every nerve of his body is frustrated. No, it needs to be when he’s with her. Not over the phone. He’s completely clueless as to when or where or what the right time is, but he knows this sure as hell isn’t it.

So, he stays quiet. Because he’s sure if he speaks he’s going to just blurt it all out, and he hasn't kept his mouth shut this long just to say it like this. She’ll have to break the silence. It feels like it takes an eternity for her to do it.

“So, uh, what time does your flight land here, again?” She asks, and his shoulders loosen just a bit.

“Yeah,” he nods, wondering if she can hear his heartbeat through the phone. It seems like it’s the only thing he can hear. “Sorry, uh. Yeah. Let me look,” he says, grabbing his phone from its propped-up place on the hotel coffee table and scrolling through it to find his ticket to Georgia. “Five… ish.”

“What time do you leave?”

“Eight-something?” He says, still looking at the flight information.

“What time is it now?” She asks.

“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s been making a habit of losing track of time with her. “Late.”

“Go to sleep,” she says, her voice playing out of his phone speakers softly. He smiles at her voice, at her instructions, at the fact she cares enough to tell him to go to sleep.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, and then salutes her for good measure.

“Merci,” she giggles in butchered French, and his ears perk up like a puppy, a grin painting itself onto his face.

“Oh?” He laughs. ““Tu parles français maintenant, n'a pas? fille drôle, je pourrais te dire ce que je veux et tu ne sauras jamais mieux,” You speak french now, do you? Silly girl, I could say whatever I want to you and you wouldn’t know any better.

“Goodnight,” she says, ignoring the French they both know she can’t even begin to translate in her mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he nods. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Miss Elliott has to leave right after the bell today, friends,” Chris hums, leaning against the front of her classroom desk, holding a stack of school newsletters. “Do you think we can get our room nice and clean before the end of the day?” She asks, smiling and nodding at the spattering of little yeses and nods. “Okay,” she grins, pointing to the whiteboard. “All of our tasks are on the big board,” she explains, running through each table and their room assignments.

The class stays about on task as a herd of twenty-something five-year-olds possibly can, with Chris reminding them to stay on task—and reminding them what their task is—from her seated spot on the group rug, cleaning up the class library with a couple of other students.

“Where are you going to, Miss Elliott?” Quinn asks her, handing over a book.

“I have to go to Atlanta,” Chris hums, putting the book on the correct shelf. “Do you know where Atlanta is?”

Quinn nods, handing over another book from the pile on the floor. “Far away.”

“It’s not soooo far,” Chris smiles.

“I just have a uncle there.”

“Oh yeah? That’s nice. Do you ever go visit him?” Chris asks.

Quinn doesn’t answer the question. “Does you have an uncle in Atlanta?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head. “I have to pick someone up at the airport.”

“Your boyfriendddd?” Quinn giggles, dragging out the letter sounds teasingly.

“A boyfriend?!” Chris grins, laughing. “You think I have a boyfriend? I spend all my time at school with you!”

“No!” She laughs. “Landry sayed you have a cute boyfriend!”

“What?” Chris giggles, snatching a book from Quinn playfully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy girl.”

— — —

With the help of her students, Chris manages to get the room put together for the next morning in less than fifteen minutes after the end of the school day, checking Charles’ flight tracking one more time before setting off from the parking lot to the airport an hour away.

He emerges from the sliding doors of his terminal with his bags and a bouquet of flowers. Chris is shaking her head, cheeks already half-pink and mind more than half-melted when she hastily parks against the curb, popping her trunk and hurrying around the back of the car to greet him properly.

“Get in the car,” she giggles, “before they start honking at us!” she says, but Charles couldn’t care less about the angry airport goers behind him, leaving his suitcase on the curb, waiting with his arms already open and a tired, jet-lagged smile on his face.

Chris resists the urge to just throw his entire body into the car and speed away from the terminal, instead hugging him tight, arms wrapping around his frame, slipping into the space between him and his backpack, the plastic casing from the flowers crinkling against her back when he hugs her just as tight.

He kisses her hair hastily, “Hi,” he mumbles, watching her lips carefully.

“Hi,” she smiles, giddy. “Eyes up here, brother,” she teases.

Charles scowls, dropping his backpack off his shoulder and lifting it up into the trunk. “Do not call me brother.”

“Too incest-y?”

“I can get another plane,” he teases, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, and hoisting his suitcase off the curb with his other hand.

“Go visit one of your other girls?” She asks, pressing the button on the top of the hatch to close the trunk.

“See?” He laughs, parting from her just long enough for both of them to get into the car. “You get it,” he says, closing the car door and quickly reaching over the center console to pull Chris into a kiss, muttering something about you did not really think I was not going to kiss you?

It’s a familiar speech he’s given that morning, the same one she’d carefully handed out when he was here months ago. The be safe, don’t get eaten by a bear lecture. That’s not where it ends, though. Chris continues to go on and on and on about her Mom’s birthday party that evening—one of the many reasons he’d decided now was a perfect time for a quick visit—and how he was under no circumstances to go overboard on gift-buying, or even buy a gift at all for that matter.

“I’m going to pick up a card on my way home from work,” she explains, standing at the end of the bed, work bag slung over her shoulder, travel coffee mug in her hand. “And I’m gonna sign both of our names,” she continues. Charles rolls his eyes from the bed. “What?” She laughs.

“Your siblings’ partners…” he yawns. “They get her their own gift, yes?”

Chris hesitates, which makes Charles grin, which forces her to grin. “Yeah, but—”

“No but.”

“But,” she laughs softly. “They’ve been around longer than you.”

Charles scoffs, feigning offense. “Stupid reason.”

“But a reason, nonetheless.”

Charles shakes his head, smiling. Dramatically, he pulls the comforter back over his head. “Goodbye,” he mumbles.

“Goodbye. I’ll see you later,” she replies, her shoes creaking against the floor as she moves through the hallway. “No gifts!”

“100 percent buying a gift, but okay!” he calls back, pulling the covers back down, listening just long enough to hear her car pull away from the driveway before turning the nightstand lamp off and putting himself back to sleep.

— — —

When he wakes up again, much closer to an acceptable morning time, he’s already racking his brain for gift ideas.

It’s an area of life he’s never considered himself particularly strong in. Sometime shortly after the appropriate period of making his Mum a homemade necklace from uncooked macaroni noodles and washable markers, he discovered he was particularly inapt at choosing gifts.

It’s a shame, really, because he’s always felt like a good listener—especially when it came to people he cared for. And yet, every holiday and birthday and anniversary he’s struggling to come up with something besides an outrageously priced bouquet of flowers at the local florist.

Which is why he sits on the sofa, legs kicked up on the ottoman, laptop on his legs as he searches What to get your girlfriend’s mum for her birthday? Birthday presents for Mum. Birthday gift ideas. Birthday gifts for Mums near me. What should you get your mother-in-law for her birthday?

Nothing is right. Everything is too silly or too impersonal or too cheap or too expensive for Chris to forgive him for buying. He’s scrolled through so many pages and so many articles hoping for an idea to spark that he’s starting to go crazy.

Defeated, he closes the laptop, abandoning it on the couch cushion next to him, and dragging his feet all the way to the bedroom, planning on flopping face down on the bed. Instead, he comes face to face with the unmade mess, sighing. He haphazardly peels all of the layers off the bed, stripping the pillows of their cases, tossing them onto the pile of blankets on the floor. With two new pillowcases from the linen closet, he carefully remakes the bed.

But now, there’s laundry. So he gathers up the pillowcases and the plastic purple hamper in the corner of the room and hauls it all to the laundry room. He tosses the entire hamper into the washing machine, and then stares at the shelf of containers. Three look dustier than the orange plastic container, so he picks up that tote and reads the instructions on the side of the box, following them carefully. When he closes the top of the washing machine, the start button glows green. He doesn’t dare adjust any of the settings, pressing the button and saying a soft prayer to the laundry gods.

He pulls the dry clothes from the dryer, putting them back into the hamper—and they’re all white. Fuck. Was he supposed to do that with the pile of clothes he’d just dumped? Too late now. Another prayer to the laundry gods. He heads back to the bedroom, dumping the clean white clothes onto the freshly made bed, and folding away at them. He sorts them out by drawer, checking the continents of each drawer half a dozen times, and puts everything where he’s nearly certain it belongs—first in the closet, then in the dresser.

Sitting atop the dresser are two loose rings and an unclasped necklace. He puts both the rings on the plate of her jewelry stand, and carefully clasps the necklace back together. It’s a thin gold chain with a row of several pearls in the middle. He hangs it gently with the other three pearl-styled necklaces that hang from the top pole of the rack. Pearls, pearls, pearls. She’s always wearing pearls. The next pole has half a dozen bracelets, most with pearls incorporated, and he can’t even begin to count the pairs of pearl earrings in the dish. It’s always pearls, because of what her Mom always says. Pearls make a lady.

Pearls make a fucking lady. The answer to his question has been literally sitting in front of him this entire time. New Google search—re: Jewelers near me.

— — —

Charles is in the kitchen assessing the fridge for snack options when the front door is swinging open at a speed he can’t believe doesn’t result in a loud clattering of the house shaking. “Chuck!” A small voice calls out into the house, followed by another thud, presumably his backpack against the floor of the foyer. The noise continues, heavy little feet running down the hallway through the house, in his direction. Quieter, he can hear Chris, the metal jingling of her keys against the coated aluminum of her travel coffee cup, the click of her shoes down the hallway floor. His name is not Chuck, she hums behind the small boy. “And my name ain’t Reidy but you’s still call me that.”

“That’s different.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” Chris mocks. “I’m the boss,” she says, calling after the boy as he walks through the kitchen doorway. “I get to do whatever I want!” Chris calls out from another room in the house.

Reid catches Charles’ eyes, squeezing between him and the fridge. He rolls his eyes, twirling his finger beside his head. “You are not the boss,” he insists, grabbing a juice box and a stick of mozzarella cheese. “You are like my stupid little boss.”

Finally, Chris appears in the doorway, shaking her head. Her eyes meet his and he feels himself grinning—an almost embarrassing amount. She looks so pretty, he thinks. So full of life and color. “I’m his stupid little boss,” she says, grinning.

“Ah,” he nods, closing the fridge doors, moving to kiss her hello. “It’s like this, you know?”

“Do not tell me you haven’t gotten a gift yet!” Chris scolds her brother. First, he’s fifteen minutes late to pick up his kid, and then he has the gusto to ask her what she bought their mom for her birthday…. To give to her at the party in two hours.

“Okay,” Chase laughs, “I won’t tell you.”

“Chase!”

“I have like, two hours,” he shrugs, looking at his watch. “Relax.”

“You’re ridiculous!” She insists, rolling her eyes. “Seriously. I got her a new Circuit because she’s always telling Dad how slow the one she has is running. And then I got her a bunch of scrapbooking stuff to go along with it.”

Chase nods, burying his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “And he’s just signing his name?” He asks, looking past her in the doorway to Charles, currently half-engaged in a Mario-Kart battle with Reid. Chris nods.

“Actually—” Charles interrupts, eyes still focused on the game, hands moving with intentional precision over the controller buttons. “About that. I got her one of those….” he trails off, moving one hand to gesture around his neck. “You know. For your… here.”

“Your neck?” Chris questions. “You went out and bought a necklace?” She continues, thumbing at the gold chain around her neck.

“Necklace!” He snaps his fingers, pointing in her direction before immediately flopping back into the sofa cushions, Reid laughing maniacally beside him at the sight of his rainbow road victory. “A pearl necklace,” he adds, holding his hand out to shake Reid’s.

Chris smiles. A pearl necklace. A friggin’ pearl necklace. It’s so simple that it’s stupid, really. It’s dumb. It’s stupid and it’s dumb and it’s cliche, in all honesty—that he is the person to remember a one-off about pearls when he can’t remember anything else.

“Oh, fuck you, that’s good,” Chase groans. “Hannah got her this, like… a cutting board with a recipe burnt into it or something.”

Chris shakes her head softly, still thumbing her necklace. “It’s Meemaw’s brownie recipe,” she says, her eyes glossed over, mind elsewhere.

“On a cutting board? Because brownies famously need a cutting board.”

“Shut up,” she says softly, smacking his chest with the back of her hand. “It’s cute.”

“It’s expensive.”

Chris’s attention snaps back to her brother. “You won like, literally a million dollars a few months ago. But a cutting board for Mom is too expensive?” She questions, raising her brows, crossing her arms over her chest. “You better find something,” she warns.

Chase holds up his hands in defense. “I know. Worst case scenario, I’m a little bit late to dinner, okay?”

“Get out of my house,” Chris shuffles, gesturing to the open front door.

“We’re going, we’re going,” Chase laughs, gathering Reid’s backpack from the floor, and helping the boy tie his shoes.

Chris closes the door behind them, staring at Charles, her back pressed against the cool door. He looks back guiltily, gathering the controllers and putting them on the end table. “I’m sorry–”

“A pearl necklace?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Do you want to see it?”

She shakes her head, moving to join him on the couch, an almost painful smile pulling on her lips as she curls up against him. “I want it to be a surprise,” she hums softly. Charles adjusts underneath her slightly, wrapping an arm around her frame, pressing a kiss into the top of her head.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I’m just happy you’re here,” she adds.

Is it possible for love to be a pearl necklace?

It’s an easy routine they’ve found—early morning alarms and goodbye kisses and listening to her try to sneak around the creaky floors without waking him up.

Today, he gets a guest pass to a local gym and works out in the corner following a workout plan Andrea had sent him—minus the neck training. That’s not happening alone in public.

After the gym, he heads to a grocery store—the biggest one he’s ever seen. He spends more time trying to figure out where he is in the store than he does actually shopping. Like, how many different kinds of pudding could one person need? A whole wall of cereal? Of chicken? Of milk? Be serious. It’s insane. What was meant to be a quick trip to the store for dinner ingredients has turned into a whole ordeal.

He was just trying to make things easier—for Chris, not for him. It was the middle of her work week and instead of planning a lazy night at home, she’d planned out a million and one things for them to do while he was in town. Charles can’t help but feel like she’s trying to keep him entertained, and it’s a feeling he hates. It’s not her job to keep him entertained. He’s not a toddler.

So, in response to their full evening schedule of a little league baseball game for her nephew, the possibility of some type of family gathering to follow that could last any vast pan of time, he figured the least he could do is make dinner and have it waiting for her when she got home. They aren’t on Reid duty after school, so it will just be the two of them. It can’t be that hard.

He’s in the kitchen, humming along to The Kooks—watching the chicken and pasta and stirring the white sauce when she walks through the front door. “Bonjour bébé,” she says, walking through the doorway into the kitchen.

His head shoots up from the pot on the stove, a smile instantly falling across his lips. “Oh, c’est bien, mon ange,” he says, even though her pronunciation was so forced she’d be laughed out of Paris. She’s trying, and he loves it, and he loves her. So, it’s a good job.

“Really?” She beams. “It was good?”

He can’t help but smile at a smile like hers. “Yeah, very good,” he nods, kissing her quickly.

“What are you making?” She asks, hoisting herself up onto the countertop beside the stove, wafting the air in the direction of her face. “It smells good.”

“Chicken and pasta,” he says. “One day, we are going to make pasta from the beginning.”

“You know how to make pasta from scratch?” She asks.

Charles raises his brows, giggling to himself softly. “To be honest, no. I was hoping you did.”

Chris laughs out loud. “Oh. Well, then. We’re screwed.”

“No,” he frowns. “We’re in serious trouble if I have to be the good cook.”

“I’m not a bad cook!’ She insists, feigning dramatic offense, clutching her pearls, literally. Charles cocks his head to the side, glancing over to her. He smiles a come-on, now smile when she raises her brows in defense, an ache-inducing smile on her face. She is so beautiful it hurts. She is so soft it hurts. She is so, he supposes. End of sentence.

“Et je ne t'aime pas,” And I do not love you, he mutters, leaning over to press a quick kiss into her lips, lingering just long enough to feel her grin.

“En Ingles, por favor, Señor?” She asks, quirking a brow.

“Not a shot in hell.”

“Please?” She frowns, and he actually considers it. Just momentarily, but considered nonetheless. Because what a moment this is. What a time it would be to do it, to say it, to make it known.

Instead, he shakes his head. “Maybe later.”

— — —

“You’re going to want a jacket,” Charles mutters, moving behind her in the bathroom, sizing up her outfit. They’re getting ready to head out to the baseball game, and she’s wearing leggings and a blue sweatshirt with an Old English D on it—one that apparently matches the color and logo of Reid’s team uniforms. He’s opted for jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blue knit zip-up sweatshirt. It’s quite chilly out, and despite the sun peeking through the clouds, it’s windy.

“I’ll be fine,” she says, running a brush through her hair.

They remember to bring a backpack full of snacks, as well as two travel thermos mugs of drinks that are certainly not alcoholic. They forget their camping chairs, though, as well as the sweater Charles had planned on bringing for when Chris decided she did in fact want a jacket. And most importantly, they forget how to keep their mouths shut.

It’s cold. It only gets colder as the sun sets, as the game continues. Neither their drinks nor the bottle of wine smuggled in by another one of the player’s mothers manage to keep the chill off.

Chris stands against the fence that goes around the field with her mom, talking animatedly about who knows what. Charles steals Cindy’s empty seat beside Hannah. He watches as Chase and Reid walk up to them—Reid kicking up a trail of gravel dust with every excited skip.

“Do you want kids?” Hannah blurts out from the seat next to him, and then before even a beat can pass, “Jesus, sorry,” she laughs. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

“No,” he smiles, as soon as he can regain his composure from the blindside of do you want kids. “It’s okay,” he reassures, adjusting in his seat, his eyes lingering on Chris for a moment longer than usual—just to make sure she isn’t hearing this conversation.

“It’s really not,” she laughs, shaking her head, taking another sip of her definitely-not-wine. “It’s just that if Chase and I die, Chris gets Reid. And she’s… I mean. You see her. You know her,” she says. The sentence left unsaid is that anyone who has ever met Chris would know that if anyone was ever born to be a mother, it’s her. “And she really likes you. Like, a lot,” Hannah whispers. “And I like you, too—but I won’t ever like anyone enough to let her sacrifice something I know is so important to her—”

“I want children, Hannah,” he laughs, cutting her off. “Do not worry.”

“You do?”

“Three.”

“And you want to get married?”

He nods again, almost instinctively looking to his girlfriend, because, as he would argue if pressed about it—who else do you look at but your girlfriend when someone asks you about marriage? “Yes.”

Hannah notices his lingering glance, apparently, because the next words out of her mouth are: “To Chris?” Charles cocks his head back over to face Hannah, rolling his eyes when he does it. Hannah nods. “Sorry, fuck,” she laughs, covering her own mouth. “I know, what’s wrong with me?”

“It,” he starts, but then he’s stopping himself because he isn’t exactly sure what he planned to say. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re just being a good friend—a good sister,” he pauses, looking back to Chris quickly, spinning his ring around his finger. “I don’t think it is the craziest thought, maybe,” he says, and he’s as surprised to say it as Hannah is to hear it. “But,” he holds up a finger and laughs. “Ask me in six months and I bet I can give you a proper answer.”

Hannah smiles, raising her brows, and takes another sip of her drink. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” he says, and now he can stare without care. It’s normal, he tells himself, to think about it all after it’s talked about like that. It’s not his fault that he’s picturing it—his future, her future. Their future together. He thinks that maybe if he squints really hard and takes a step back he can see himself getting married. That maybe she’s there too, in some wedding dress that probably has pockets.

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Hannah asks, and it pops into his mindless bubble of crazy. He laughs, shakes his head, and pulls his phone out without saying a word. “You totally are,” Hannah giggles, and he feels his cheeks flush. “Look at you blushing, oh my god!”

Charles rolls his eyes, a smile pulling on the corners of his lips. “Shut up,” he mumbles.

He watches from his conversation with Hannah, watches as Chris stands at the chain-link fence, hugging her own arms and shifting her weight from one foot to the other like she needs to pee, trying and trying to warm herself up with the friction of her own arms.

“Did she bring a coat?” Hannah asks.

“No,” Charles replies. “But she’s half a minute from forcing her to put on mine.”

“She can take mine, if she wants,” Hannah offers, but Charles turns her down.

“No, no,” he says. “I am warm, anyways,” he lies. It’s cold out, but his mother raised a gentleman.

Chris shivers one more time and Charles has had enough of watching her stubbornness. He takes off his sweatshirt and walks up behind her, draping it over her shoulders in the middle of a sentence.

“Hi?” Chris says sweetly, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

“Hi,” he smiles, kissing her cheek. “You’re cold.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles and mutters a soft thank you. Charles hums his response and nods, moves to return to the empty camping chair beside Hannah. Chris reaches out to stop him, catching his hand, his fingers interlocking into hers with a casual ease.

He stands behind her, adjacent to her conversation with her Mother, watching the game through the fence. He’s barely listening, his focus split between the game he doesn’t understand and toying with Chris’ fingers behind her back. “I’ve been learning French,” she tells her mom. Charles smiles.

“Oh really? Where at?”

“Uh, just on my phone. I got this app that you can do lessons on every day.”

“And you chose French because of…” Cindy trails off. Chris nods, her grip on his hand tightening, which really pulls his attention.

“I’m pretty bad but he likes to pretend I’m a pro,” she grins, leaning back into him.

“Well,” Cindy laughs. Chris shivers, moving to put on the sweatshirt instead of just having it draped over her shoulders. “Charles, you shouldn’t be scared to put her in her place.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “No, she’s a quick learner, really.”

— — —

Cindy excuses herself, says she’s going to go and get some hot chocolate to take the edge off of the chill, and asks if Chris or Charles want any. Charles says no, Chris says yes—offers to pay but is denied.

Once she’s gone, Chris is spinning in the gravel to face her boyfriend. “Thank you for the sweatshirt,” she says. “And thank you for not saying you told me so.”

“Are you still cold?” He asks, putting the back of his hand on her forehead like he’s checking for a temperature. It’s chilly, but it's not bitter or wintery.

“Yeah,” she says, swatting his hand from her forehead. “I’m fine, just can’t get warm.”

“C’mere,” He says, pulls her into a tight, warm hug, fully wrapping her up in his arms, running his hands up and down her back. She melts against his chest. “I think it’s Reid’s turn,” he points out, and Chris spins in his grip to face the same direction so he’s hugging her from behind.

Chris whistles, “Let’s go, Reidy!” She calls out, and then quieter, just to Charles. “He’s nervous that you’re here.”

“Hmm?” he laughs. “Why?”

“He wants to impress you.”

They watch Reid’s at-bat, watch him swing and miss on the tee twice without laughing. Chris is talking to Charles about whatever she and Cindy were talking about before he came over, neither of them taking their eyes off the game. Charles kisses Chris’ covered shoulder while he listens to her talk, runs his hands up and down her arms to create some friction.

Reid hits the ball off the tee on his third swing, and Chris actually jumps with excitement. He hits it right to the second baseman, hurries his little legs towards Chase on the first base. Chris cheers through a laugh, her body vibrating against Charles’ chest.

In a pause in the conversation, he wonders if she’s ever been more her than she is right now. At home, with her family, a never-ending well of love and laughter and beauty. He almost wishes that he could just observe her and all that she is, admire the woman he gets to love.

This is the moment.

It has to be. Perfect moments don’t exist but this has to be as close as you can get. “Are you okay?” Chris asks over her shoulder, “Your heart is racing.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Um,” Fuck. Just say it, Charles.

Chris laughs anxiously, turns around to face him, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I love you.”

Chris doesn’t miss a beat. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he nods. “I’m so in love with you.”

Her face softens, the concern melting away. “Really?” God, she says it so soft that it’s almost a squeak. It hurts him how much she clearly wants to believe him. How maybe, maybe she does. He nods. “I love you, too.”

Charles beams, cradles her face in his hands and kisses her. Kisses her like they’re in love. Because they are. They pull apart in a fit of giggles, his thumb dancing on her cheek, running over a tear. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up,” she says through a smile, turning around to lean against his chest again, wiping a tear from her cheek with a sniffle. It’s cute, he says. “Shhh.”

Through a peppering of kisses on her shoulder, her hair, her cheek, he repeats between each peck. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

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graveyardcuddles · 6 months ago

Text

The Space Between - NSFW Reader x Astarion one-shot

18+ MDI

Summary: blood drinking and other fun activities in front of the mirror.

Word Count: ~ 2800

tags/warnings: post-canon, established relationship, porn with feelings, afab reader, gender-neutral reader, shameless vampire smut, blood-drinking, scent kink, mirror play, body exploration, fingering, PiV sex, unprotected sex

Astarion rarely ever mentions his lack of a reflection these days. Whenever the topic is brought up it's normally in his trademark sense of humor: a casual "You're blocking my view, love," when you enter your shared bathroom to preen as he's washing his mouth out with mint and rosemary water in the mornings. One of the many new habits he's picked up in the months since the two of you moved in.

He'll occasionally sneak up behind you to wrap his arms around you unexpectedly while checking over your outfit in the mirror, scaring the daylights out of you more than once. "We do look good together, don't we?" playfully whispered to you as his cool breath tickles your ear before proceeding to break out into heady laughter at your frightened reaction.

Your lover has had so many things taken from him. You could hardly blame him for holding onto his rage. Wrath was all he had for so long. Enabled him to survive before you came into his life and shared your blood with him. Gave him hope that despite everything he lost, he might one day at least have revenge. After achieving said revenge, for the first time in nearly two centuries, he could imagine more.

Adventures with you in the years following the fall of the Absolute only brought you two closer, intertwining his life with yours. The feeling of belonging to someone without being possessed by them. It was overwhelming at times for him. Most of the time on your travels together, he was happy to sit or stand back while you planned out the finer details of travel routes and provisions around the campire, carefully mapping out the following day. Yet it was usually never very long before he decided ne needed your attention, using his vampiric stealth to his advantage to startle you into breaking your concentration with a cold kiss to your neck.

You weren't all that surprised to how well he took to his freedom, having had faith in him and his resilient nature. But sometimes you were taken aback how easily Astarion accepted the daily monotony of everyday life. Oh sure, he had much to complain about and many eye-rolls to give every time he mentioned how terribly boring the whole prospect sounded. At first, he was resistant to routines. Too restrictive. He was free now. He wanted to do whatever he wanted when he wanted. You assured him you weren't about to give a vampire a sleep schedule but that he should at least pick up some hobbies during your off-seasons of adventuring.

Eventually, the two of you settled into something of a routine, and over time, you found yourself unable to imagine a life without him. The way his laughter filled you up with joy. The sound of him practicing on the recently-aquired piano in your living room, shy and tentative at first. He now plays almost daily. The way the scents of the perfumes he crafts fill your home. Everything about Astarion seemed to fit perfectly into your life, even if it took patience and time.

You had just finished a bath and were going through your nighttime routine as you stood before the full-length mirror in your bedroom. Letting the towel fall away, you combed your hair and applied perfume to your wrists and clavicle. It's a new blend of fragrancs Astarion had spent a tenday perfecting. Floral with warm undertones and a hint of sweetness. It was easy to lose yourself in it. Close your eyes and let it's aroma warm and dissipated across your skin. You feel relaxed and light. If Astarion wanted to be particularly cheeky, he could startle you quite badly if he wanted to. Instead, he announces his presence softly.

"Hello, darling," he purrs to you as he steps up behind you.

You smile as he places the tips of his fingers on your shoulders, touching you so lightly you can barely feel them. Letting yourself lean back a little, you relax into his chest and run your fingers through his hair, inviting him to touch you further.

"Fond of the new blend, are you?" He lips leave cool kisses in the crook of your neck as breaths in your scent. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

"As a matter of fact, I am. I think it might be my favorite so far." He grins in that unique way he does when you know he's hiding something.

"What is it?" You query as he kisses your shoulder and runs his hands down to ever-so-lightly hold onto your hips. "Oh nothing," he says nonchalantly as he kisses up your neck, kindling warmth throughout your body.

"Right... you're just that giddy I enjoy the new scent, is it?" Your hands wander through his silver curls and gently brush against the tip of one of his ears. His fingers dig into your hips, and he buries he groans softly into your neck. "Mmm, I might have made it with you in mind," he mumbles into your skin.

You watch in the mirror as invisible digits dig into the pads of your hips, skin on your lower belly pulled taut from how hard he was gripping you. It was nearly painful. You inhale sharply give his ear an extremely soft tug, determined to give as much teasing as you got.

"Oh? Do you mean it compliments my natural pheromones is that it?" Astarion hummed and kissed along your neck mercilessly. "Something like that," he says melodicly as he grazes his fangs across where your jugular throbs, tantalizing him.

In the mirror, your arm seemingly floats overhead, caressing your unseen lover. You turn to actually look at him, and his eyes are full of lust and longing and vulnerability. "It's inspired by the scent of your blood," he whispers as those big crimson eyes stare at you through silver lashes. "Meant to pair with your impossibly delicious bouquet." One of his pale hands comes up to cup your breast.

You sigh at his touch. "Would you like to test how well they pair together, then?" He begins to trace lazy circles around your nipple with his forefinger, and you inhale sharply as you watch its reflection wiggling and twitching in the mirror. The sight alone was making you quickly lose your composure, his fingers sending cold shivers across your skin.

Your excited heart begins pounding rapidly against your ribs, and you're certain that Astarion can hear it. Probably smell it. He once told you the scent of someone's blood becomes stronger the faster it rushes through their body.

"In fact," he leaves a deep, bruising kiss on your neck, and the imprints of both of his hands sink into the flesh of your breasts as they dig into you. His needy grip on them has you bracing against him. "May I please indulge, my love? We can move to the bed and get more comfortable."

You were rapidly losing your will to continue teasing him. Leaning your head back, you offer your neck to him in answer. "Mmm, no. Wanna watch you drink from me here," You lean back further and stare up as him adoringly. He smiles with a wicked sort of pride that's normally reserved for combat. "Well, how can I say 'no' to that?"

With practiced lips, he feels out your pulse point slowly, taking his time. The burning in your core that's been building for a while now is nearly painful. You watch your nipples continue to be pintched and stretched seemingly on their own. Astarion licks up your artery, and you can see his saliva glistening on your neck just as you feel it.

Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you squirm a little in his hold. He laughs, kissing your cheek. "You know better than to flail about, darling. Let's not have an accident, hm?" Gently, he tilts your head back and to the side, holding you firm by the jawline. His forefinger and thumb rub your chin tenderly as his fangs line up with your neck. His other hand comes up to rest his palm over your heart, feeling it hammer underneath his touch.

You watch as the side of your neck, slick, wet, and rudy from hickeys and love nips, forms two tiny indentation marks. He ghosts his fangs over the spot, creating pinpricks marks over where your blood pounds just under the skin.

The tension builds as those twins dots dig deeper into your skin. The burning icy bite turns into a sharp sting as you hear the soft mutted 'pop' of your skin being broken. You exhale a strained moan as the marks on your neck erupt, and crimson ichor wells up and washes over your flesh. Your neck is painted in red as his velvety tongue works over the wounds, each roll licking up more maroon gushes.

Mouthfuls of your blood vanish before your eyes as he drinks you in, making you a part of him. Invisible lips and teeth tug and suckle at your flesh, drawing out more blood. In your ear, you hear the sound of your blood on his lips, every greedy gulp from his throat, and every little satisfied exhale from his nose. You begin to lose your balance as your head gets light, but his hold on you remains firm. Just as you feel yourself growing weak, he withdraws his fangs and laps at the bite to close the wounds.

Without warning, he uses his supernatural strength advantage to lift you off of your feet, hugging you by your waist. You lean back against him and watch as you float midair, your feet hovering a few inches off of the floor. A trickle of blood flows from your neck down your torso. Your head is spinning, your toes curl, and you feel as though you might pass out. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and slowly sets you down. You stumble a little on your feet. "Ugh, asshole," you mutter. Astarion can only laugh.

"Delicious as always," he says to you, voice low and rumbling. "You are always full of such brilliant ideas, you know that?" he giggles as he nuzzles into your neck, keeping a firm hold on you. Turning your head to look up at him, he traces the edges of your face as he smiles, a bit loosened up from your essence.

He pulls you into a bloody kiss, mouths open, and tongues overlapping one another. His hand cups between your legs as you kiss, and you moan loudly into his mouth. When he pulls away, he gives you a playful look. "Sit, love," his eyes are full of anticipation as he gingerly pushes you down by the shoulders.

You sit back on your knees, and he settles down behind you, keeping an arm around your waist. "You like seeing yourself like this, darling?" He pulls you flush against him to sit on his lap, back flushed against his chest and legs straddling his thighs. You feel his arousal pressing into your ass as your reflection hovers just off the ground in the mirror, leaving you exposed to him. "Because I adore you like this. So wanton," he kneads one of your breasts while his other hand holds you still against him.

Your core throbs with need, and Astarion watches you over your shoulder eagerly. He tugs on your nipple some more, causing pleasure to shoot down your body. You feel your cunt fluttering around nothing as he mercilessly draws out your pleasure. Your pelvic muscles contract involuntarily as you stiffle back a whine.

"Aw, does it ache, darling? Do you need to be filled so badly that it hurts?" He keeps playing with your breasts and your body heaves and pants from your nipples being overstimulated and your pussy being neglected. You loll your head back, aching with arousal. "No, no," he scolds, taking you by the jaw and making you watch yourself. "Just look at the mess you made, naughty thing." He wasn't lying.

Your cunt was desperate for attention, pulsing and leaking slick down to the bulge of his pants. You're beyond trying to keep yourself quiet and you moan desperately as Astarion applies pressure to the flesh just above your clit with his fingerpads, just barely tugging on the sensitive bud. He was torturing you, so close and yet so far. "Ugh, Astarion pleeeaasee." You grind your ass against his erection, trying to convey your desperation. But feeling him throb underneath you as he groans your name only drives you more crazy.

His fingers move down to finally run along between your legs, tracing light circles slowly around your bud. Taking his time. You moan openly for more. As you wriggle in his lap, he plays with your pussy, admiring how it pulsates so frantically, begging to be filled.

He finally gives you some relief as he presses two fingers inside you, your body more than ready enough. His silver curls tickle the side of your face as he leans his head forward to get a better look. As you feel the familiar, wonderful stretch of his cool fingers, he gasps softly in quiet astonishment.

"Look, love," he whispers to you. Looking in the mirror, you see the ringed muscles around your cunt quivering as your pussy is gapped open by his fingers. Two fingers become three as he plunges even deeper and wider into you. Your lips are pulled and pushed back and forth by unseen forces as Astarion whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Your body is unbearably hot, yet his cool frame and fingers provide relief even as he simultaneously makes it worse.

"You're so beautiful like this," he says softly, his teasing demeanor beginning to fall away. "Your body is so open for me. It's so lovely, so gorgeous. All for me." He kisses you on the side of your face as you lose yourself to the sensations. "Fuck," he pulls his fingers out of you and pushes you off of him to undo his pants. "You'll be the second death of me."

Astarion pulls you back onto his lap, shifting your hips so that his cock is nestled between your folds, parting them and rubbing up against your clit. His lazy rocking motions are meant to further edge you, but you can hear him breathing heavily in your ear, trying to maintain composure.

You rolled your hips in turn, increasing the friction and causing lewd sounds to fall from both of your lips. Astarion makes a high-pitched whining sound that he fails to stifle, making him bite his lip and knit his brows together in desperation. He was adorable like this.

You reach down between your legs and stroke up and down your folds and his shaft. Grabbing onto his length, you turn back to look at him, seeking permission. He nods, gripping your hips tighter.

You line him up with your entrance and watch as your pussy stretches again, the pressure pushing inward as the head spreads you open. Lowering yourself over him slowly, you savor the sight of him filling you.

"Gods," his chin digs a little into your shoulder as he watches along with you, his breathing heavy. He openly moans as you sink down on him fully, feeling the base settling around you. He whispers your name and pulsates within you, causing the ring between your legs to flutter.

"Fuck," his digits sink into the soft flesh of hips and he struggles to form words as he observes your body. "So full of me," he pants.

Holding the position, you can see at least a few inches within your body, your pelvic muscles hugging Astarion tight. You tilt your head over to look at him, how he watches your body react to him. He looks almost dizzy, his mouth hanging open in a haze of lust. You run your fingers across his cheekbone gently, breaking him from his concentration on your reflection.

His eyes hold your stare as you simply feel one another. Your arms wrap around his head as you pull him into a kiss, this time gently. Still full of passion but slow, burning, lips and tongue softly brushing against one another as your faces nuzzled together. "I'm yours," you break the kiss to say to him. Within you can feel his cock throbbing, causing you to gasp and tighten around him.

"Say it again," he growls softly, pressing his forehead into yours and moving a hand down to just above your pubic bone. He applies counter pressure on where his cock is already internally pressing on your g-spot.

He rocks just enough to move in and out of you by a few inches, keeping himself inside. "I'm yours, Astarion!" The bow drawn tight inside of you was threatening to let loose. You were babbling more than dirty talking as Astarion turned his attention once more on your pearl. As he bounces you roughly in his lap, he presses onto your lower abdomen while rutting into you.

The rough fucking along with the stimulation of your g-spot and clit have you cumming around his cock, your muscles contracting wildly. Astarion praises you breathlessly as he watches you flex around him in ecstacy, and his voice is quickly cut off with a succession of whines, which become moans as your climax pushes him towards his own.

His cock throbs, filling you up as he clutches onto you, pale fingers digging into your ass and hips. In the mirror your messy and swollen pussy pulses rhythmically as it leaks with his cum.

You relax into his chest as you let him slip out of you, his arms wrap around you and hold you close.

You sit there together for a long while, kissing each other tenderly. His lips delicately kiss each finger on your hand, and then the back of your hand and up to your shoulder before kissing all over, adorning you with affection. He kisses you as if he's trying to trace constellations on your face. You shift to sit on his lap and cup his face gently. Sweeping a lock off of his forehead, you lean forward to kiss his brow. "We fit together perfectly."

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