#Ashe is so full of love and caring for others (even if he is the grumpiest healer you've ever met)

[littlehoundthings]

The mun is vibrating out OF THEIR SKIN Ashe screaming below (very rambly)

This man is just... SO tired by the time he reaches Veilguard that it's amazing he's still standing.

Ashe cares so deeply for so many people. His siblings. His team. His daughter. And yet he's SO terrified of letting other people love him because of the betrayal after betrayal. His own family sold him out. The moment he opened himself up to Greigoir, he was used as a tool for the circle to protect the status quo.

Even Morgan, who he thought he could truly open up to, fully used him for her own ends (becoming immortal.... in a way).

But he keeps caring. Protecting and caring for others has always been such a core value in Ashe, that he can't imagine a life where he DOESN'T care about other people.

But he does it in a way that cuts him off from himself. He hides his worries. He holds his needs tight. He ignores how much he craves touch, gentleness, connection if it means keeping everyone around him safe.

He would move the Fade itself if it meant protecting the ones who meant the world to him.

And the worst part is, he never learned a different way. 38 years old, and he never found out that he can be cared for just as much as he cares for others. (Everyone vanishes and leaves during the intermittent years between Inquisition and Veilguard and he's just.... trying to pick up his own pieces).

He's angry. He's raw. He's tired.

He just wants someone to tell him it's okay to be tired. It's okay to rest.

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 24: 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍

title: milk me synopsis: usually demons' poisons just kill whoever was affected by them. this time, it served for something else. something way better. [2.1K] cw: established relationship, eye patch!kyojuro, crystal hashira!reader, sex pollen, public sex, pussy drunk, forced orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, dacryphilia, spit, nipple stimulation, accidental voyeurism (we'll say: sorry miss shinobu).

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Monsters, echoed in the demon’s head as he ran deeper into the forest. His arm reattached to his body, fully healed but burning still. With human blood dripping from his mouth, he cursed the slayers after him. Monsters. All of them.

The bastard decided where his body would rot. He was the one to decide over his path. Lurking among the branches, you waited. Concealed by the night, Kyojuro chased. And as the demon laughed, believing to have outwitted the slayers, fire and crystal cut through his neck in union.

Blood burned into ashes on your nichirin sword. As the head rolled, you gazed at the starless sky. Using the moon as a reference, you knew this hunt was too easy. “It’s not even midnight yet”, you frowned. “Sanemi spoke the truth on our last meeting. Those slayers begged for our help to end this weak thing?”

Hypnotized by your presence, Kyojuro cupped your cheek. The head between you two screamed and cursed, but his voice meant nothing for Kyojuro. Talking is a privilege for the living, and he won’t allow a beast to stop him from admiring you.

“Only because of your flawless strategy, flame of my heart!” Kyojuro laughed, thumb caressing your lower lip. He blatantly ignored your last statement, determined to not let worries take you away from him. “How glad I am to fight beside you!”

To feel his hand full of scars, hear his voice full of love, made you come back to the present. Kyojuro knows how easy it’s for you to get lost inside of your own head. Soothing you back into reality, you were the flying pipe and Kyojuro the stone.

How could you care about any other thing when Kyojuro burns this bright? All concerns about the level of those new slayers were quickly forgotten. Moving your face, you kissed his open palm. He was so warm. Welcoming.

“You flatter me.”

“I only speak the truth”, Kyojuro pulled you closer. “As you deserve.”

Peace was disturbed as bones cracked. You looked down to find the demon’s jaw wide open, tongue contorting as he choked on it. You assumed it was agony, but Kyojuro recognized it as a last act of violence. From stroking your face, Kyojuro spared no strength to shove you as far away as he could.

You were about to do the same to him.

As you rose from the ground a heavy, yellow mist came out from the demon’s mouth. Covering your face with your emerald haori, to hear his coughs made your heart stir. The more desperate Kyojuro becomes, the more this pollen will infiltrate his nostrils. The more this wretched demon would hurt your dear Kyo.

In an act of pure logic, you kicked the head away. In an act of pure hatred, you did so with so much strength the head exploded in pieces against a tree trunk.

You turned around in time to see Kyojuro’s nose scrunching.

The pollen was already gone, scattered in the wind. You let go of your haori and held his chin, looking for blisters or burns were the mist touched. As you moved him closer to you, Kyojuro sighed.

More carefully now, you tilted his head. Moonlight revealed his flushed cheeks, forehead already soaked with sweat. His owl eye, always brimming with excitement and joy, never looked so dark. You found nothing. Not a wound, not a scratch.

“Focus”, you demanded, voice stern. Now you weren’t his wife, only a hashira telling a hurt person what to do. “Slow down your heartbeat. Fight the fever. Kyojuro, I need you to breath.”

That damned thing. You doubt that demon could create anything stronger than a common poison. After a whistle, your crow landed on your shoulder. Looking into its purple eyes, you gave the instructions to warn Shinobu of your position.

“Kyo!” You almost lost balance when he collapsed against you. “Listen to me! You need to keep on breathing.”

His arms intertwined around your waist, his hold so tight you could feel his chest moving up and down with every shaky breath. Kyojuro’s knees failed, his weight making you stumble back.

Your mind was a torturous place right now.

Usually, he would fight back. If only his body was threatened, Kyojuro would have stopped that poison by now, but it clearly affected his mind too. You can’t count on Kyojuro tonight. He needs you now.

The best thing is for Kyojuro to get healed immediately, and the only one that can assure that is Shinobu. You want to take him in your arms and run. The sudden movement, the change in temperature, his aching lungs. You want to run, but maybe that would only work to weaken Kyojuro even more. But to stay here, holding a suffering Kyojuro in the hopes of being found? That would make you insane!

And again, you were the pipe flying away, lost in the winds of your head. You need your stone. You need Kyojuro to be fine again.

Kyojuro inhaled deeply your scent, and for a moment you thought he learned how to deal with the poison. Him shamelessly ravishing on your skin made you second thought that.

“Dear”, you whimpered. Trying to move Kyojuro away, you stumbled back once more. This time, Kyojuro stepped forward, putting more of his weight on top of you. “Kyo… What are you doing?”

His warm tongue licked the crook of your neck, tasting your sweat. His nose brushed against you, drowning in your perfume.

“I am hungry”, Kyojuro whimpered, mouth closing around the sensitive skin where your shoulder and neck meet. His lips, soft and plump, stole a little whimper from you. “I burn for you.”

At that, your eyes widened. Aphrodisiacs! That explains why those slayers were so quick to avert his curious gaze and your careful touch. Why they cried as they moved, although they carried no wound. Why you feel something poking at your belly.

His teeth sank on your neck, expelling every thought from your mind. It was strong enough to bring you to tears. A deep moan echoed through the night; a sound so primal a part of you mistook it from an animal’s doing.

Your heartbeat increased, and you knew Kyojuro heard it too.

“Kyojuro Rengoku,” you hissed. It made him froze. “You need to stop.”

Taken back from your harsh tone, Kyojuro tilted his head towards yours. You were mad at him. No, no, no, no! That… That can’t be. He can’t make you suffer. He promised to never make you suffer.

“Forgive me,” he begged. Kyojuro sounded more like himself. Still clouded, flying like a pipe, but real. Caring.

In a merciful act, the moon shone over you two. And in its glow, you saw Kyojuro crying. Heavy tears rolled down his face, sobs forcing out of him.

The great flame hashira reduced to such a beautiful mess.

“I need you”, Kyojuro whimpered. He closed his eyes, all the voices in his head bringing him step by step closer to the abyss. “I feel as if… As if I will go insane if I don’t have you. I am… sorry.” You saw fire inside his eye, heard certainty on his voice. “I just need to… Yes, my flame, I just need to…”

His warmth turned into heat, and Kyojuro moved before you could decide over your next action. Not a second later your back was on the ground, eyes wide as you stared at the predator lurking above you.

Kyojuro kneeled down, thighs closed between your legs. His rough hands tugged at your haori, trembling as he pulled it apart. Like a beast, Kyojuro cut through all the fabrics between you two. He stopped when your breasts spilled out, nipples hard as the wind touched them.

His deep breath made you pay more attention to Kyojuro’s details. Fingers hesitant to touch your skin. Tears staining his face. Lips open, drool falling over you. The sound of his pitiful cries pierced your skull.

Without any words, Kyojuro begged. He begged for your forgiveness. For your help. For you. And how could you deny Kyojuro of what he wants so badly?

“Do it”, you said. You allowed. Supporting your weight on your elbows, back leaving the ground, you bit your tongue. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thank you, my flame”, Kyojuro cried. So beautiful. “Thank you, thank you.”

His warm mouth closed around your nipple, eyes widening as he sucked on it. His fingers yanked the other, rolling it between his fingertips with just the right pressure.

Kyojuro bit your shoulder, this time less feral. It wasn’t possessive, only a need to have you between his teeth. Marking your bust, leaving not a single inch untouched and unmarked, he covered you on his spit.

He is a selfless lover in a way the most selfish one could appreciate. There isn’t a single moment Kyojuro doesn’t think about your pleasure. He is always seeking for it, drowning himself on you and only coming back to surface when you beg for rest. It’s nothing but a mere coincidence that Kyojuro takes his own pleasure from yours.

The more you whined, hips twitching beneath his broad body, the more Kyojuro gave to you. You hissed when his teeth closed around your wet nipples, and Kyojuro saw that as a sign he needed to keep going.

Even in this condition, your man really can’t bear having an empty mouth.

Kyojuro bended your legs, feet high on the air, laying down on the ground. He forced your thighs to close around his head, fingers drawing circles on your hips. You felt his shaky breath against your ignored cunt.

“Itadakimasu,” Kyojuro whispered. Not for you, but for your pussy.

And so, he dived into you. There was no technique, no method on the way his tongue moved. And that’s why you always loved to have his head between your legs. With Kyojuro, you never felt as if your time was running out. As if you had to be quick, so he would finally feel pleasure too. Eating you out, Kyojuro never thought about the quickest way to get you to cum.

He does that for himself. Tongue deep into your walls, Kyojuro rejoices. Teeth pulling at your clit, Kyojuro salivates. Every noise that you make, from sheepish whimpers to weary cries, is a full meal for this hungry man.

You’re in for a long night.

Kyojuro licked your slit restlessly. In his place, your jaw would stumble. His big tongue slipped inside of it, back to his home. The soft and trained muscle, curling at the perfect spot inside of you.

But he never stayed inside of you for long enough, as another part of your glistening cut looked deserving of his attention too. Torturing you, all you did was pull his golden hair and take it.

After the fourth orgasm, his fingers filling you up without mercy, your mouth hanged open. You couldn’t close it. You couldn’t remember to close it. All you wanted, all you could think about, was for Kyojuro to have his fill. To get better. To just drown already and let you rest.

“Inside of me”, your voice echoed, but you had no time to be embarrassed about your screams. Pushing his head away, you tried to bargain with his desire. “Just get inside of me already, Kyojuro!”

But he refused you. Nodding, Kyojuro nuzzled at your core. Impatient, you groaned and pulled his hair harshly.

Kyojuro saw you. All of you. The redness of your tearful eyes. The bite marks around your collarbone. Those half-closed eyes, tired but energized still. Those breasts moving up and down, up and down.

“Now”, you ordered, clenching your teeth.

As if he would be punished by disobeying you, Kyojuro freed his leaking cock and pulled you closer. Rigid for you, sensitive because of all the pleasure he gave you, ready for you.

Your flame hashira, more than ready to burn you alive.

His body was on top of yours, involving you completely, as he thrusted into your walls. He licked your lips, eye as heavy as yours. “You taste so good”, he said against your mouth. “The best meal I ever had.”

Looking into his eyes, you melted. Your legs shaken around his hips; eyes rolled back as Kyojuro used you to get off. Watching Kyojuro finally fell apart, head finding solace in the crook of your neck, you smiled. “Better?”

A husky laugh vibrated through you. “Better.”

Shinobu thanked darkness for hiding her burning cheeks.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm @idonthaveanameforthisacc

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[gilbertscurls]

bouquet — matt sturniolo

summary: matt gets flowers for the first time in his life

inspired by

Matt walked into the apartment after a long day of filming, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion. The apartment was dimly lit, a cozy contrast to the bustling city outside. He dropped his backpack by the door and was about to head to the kitchen for a snack when he noticed something unusual—a faint, sweet fragrance in the air.

Curious, Matt followed the scent to the living room, where a soft glow from a lamp illuminated a small table in the center of the room. There, in the middle of the table, was a beautiful bouquet of flowers. They were a mix of vibrant colors, with roses, lilies, and daisies creating a stunning display.

Matt’s eyes widened as he took in the sight. He had never received flowers before, and the gesture struck him as both surprising and deeply touching. He reached out and gently touched the petals, admiring the delicate arrangement.

Just then, you walked in from the bedroom, your face lighting up when you saw Matt’s reaction. You had been planning this surprise for days, hoping to do something special for him and show how much you appreciated him.

“Surprise!” you said with a warm smile, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Matt turned to you, his expression a mixture of astonishment and delight. “Baby, these are… Wow. They’re beautiful. But I don’t understand—what’s the occasion?”

You walked over and stood beside him, your gaze soft and affectionate. “No special occasion, just a little something to brighten your day. I know how hard you’ve been working lately, and I wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to me.”

Matt’s heart melted at your words. He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “You didn’t have to do this. But I’m so glad you did. It means more to me than you know.”

You beamed and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I wanted to. You deserve to feel appreciated and loved, even on the tough days.”

Matt carefully picked up the bouquet, bringing it close to his face to inhale the sweet fragrance. “I’ve never gotten flowers before. I didn’t realize how special it would feel. Thank you.”

You smiled, your heart full of happiness. “I’m glad you like them. I thought they might add a bit of color and joy to your day.”

Matt set the bouquet down on the table and then pulled you into a warm embrace. “They definitely do. And this—” he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes “—this means more to me than any flowers ever could.”

Your eyes softened, and you leaned in for another kiss, your love for each other evident in the gentle connection.

You spent the evening together, enjoying each other’s company in the warmth of your home. The flowers, now a symbol of your love and thoughtfulness, stood proudly on the table, a vibrant reminder of the special bond you shared

As you both relaxed on the couch, Matt’s arm draped around you, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and contentment. The surprise of receiving flowers for the first time was more than just a gesture—it was a reflection of the love and care that defined your relationship.

And in that moment, surrounded by the gentle fragrance of the flowers and the comforting presence of you, Matt felt truly, profoundly happy.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry

[chrissturnsfav]

i’ve been summoned ☝️ ok hear me out here, fuckgirl!reader is flirting with him like always and then he gets a boner… up to u if she notices or not !!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt gets a little excited around fuckgirl!reader

you’re sitting in matt’s beat-up old car, legs crossed on the passenger seat, leaning back with a joint dangling between your fingers.

the windows are fogged up, a hazy cocoon of smoke and the faint smell of cigarettes and cologne—matt’s signature scent, clinging to everything he touches. he doesn’t like to smoke weed, never has, but you got him to take a hit tonight. one hit. big deal. baby steps.

he's in the driver’s seat, slouched like he’s got nowhere better to be, one arm draped lazily over the wheel, the other flicking ash out his window.

his lips curl slightly when he catches you staring. not a full smile, but enough to make you grind your teeth. this smug dick knows exactly what he’s doing.

"what?" he asks, voice low, smooth, teasing.

you blow smoke in his direction, grinning. "nothing. just thinking how you keep pretending you don’t wanna fuck me."

his eyes flick over to you, dark and steady, but he doesn’t bite. doesn’t rise to your taunt, never does. that’s the thing about matt—calm, cool, untouchable. a challenge. you love it, even though it's incredibly frustrating.

"cute," he says flatly, like it’s not.

you shift, letting your skirt ride up just enough to get a reaction. he notices—of course he does—but he stays cool, that unreadable expression driving you absolutely crazy.

"come onnn," you coo, leaning closer, voice dripping with fake sweetness as you pout at him, stubbing the blunt into an ashtray in his cup holder. "you can’t keep playing hard to get forever."

"who said i’m playing?" he shoots back, eyes flickering down to his crotch just a second too long.

gotcha.

you lean in further, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you snicker tauntingly. "your dick says different, matt."

his jaw tenses. you see a crack in that infuriatingly calm exterior.

he shifts slightly, like he’s trying to hide something, but you’re not stupid. you know exactly what’s happening, and it lights a fire inside you.

"oh," you whisper, biting your lip through a cocky smirk. "looks like i’m finally getting to you."

he exhales slowly, a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite name. but he doesn’t pull away. doesn’t stop you.

"careful," he warns softly, voice rougher than usual. "you sure you wanna play this game?"

you grin wickedly, loving every second of this rare victory. "oh, baby, i'm already winning this game. don't get it twisted. started winning when you kissed me a few weeks ago."

his eyes narrow, and for a second you wonder if you’ve finally pushed him too far. not that you'd regret it. matt’s the type who thrives on control, always one step ahead. but tonight that grip is slipping, and you can feel it. it's the same exact tension you felt a few weeks ago at that party.

he shifts in his seat, leaning back like he's trying to remind himself who’s in charge.

you know that move. seen it before. but it’s different now. there’s heat bubbling beneath his cool exterior, something that wasn’t there before.

"yeah?" he asks, voice low, smooth.

you nod, biting your lip. "mhmm."

he hums like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s remembering that party a couple of weeks ago when he kissed you and shattered his whole untouchable vibe.

of course that motherfucker blamed that night on the alcohol. but you're not backing down so easily, and you knew that was all a lie.

besides, you love a good challenge.

you see the flicker of that night in his eyes now, the way he looks at your plush lips like he’s weighing his options.

"you're thinking about it, aren’t you?" you taunt, snickering cheekily, leaning closer until your knee brushes his thigh. "how good my lips tasted."

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a dry laugh. "cocky."

"mm-mm, confident," you correct, grinning. "there’s a difference, baby."

his tongue darts over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, and you swear it takes every ounce of self-control inside you not to climb into his lap right then, wanting nothing but to feel his hard tip pressing against your clit through your clothes.

"aw, what’s wrong?" you taunt softly, voice dripping with mock sweetness. "scared you're gonna give in again?"

his jaw tightens, and he huffs out a low laugh through his nose, like he knows what game you’re playing but refuses to let you win outright.

"damn, you're really pushin’ it tonight," he mutters, voice rough, like gravel rolling through his chest.

"am i?" you purr, inching closer until you're practically in his space. your knee brushes his thigh, deliberate this time, and the flicker of tension in his eyes nearly makes you dizzy.

his breath hitches—subtle but not subtle enough to miss.

"yeah," he says low, almost a warning. "you are."

but he doesn't move away. doesn't stop you. and that's when you know you've got him once again.

you tilt your head, biting back a grin. "hmm...what’re you gonna do about it, matt?"

his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second—one fleeting, dangerous second—before snapping back up to meet your eyes.

"thought you liked keeping me on my toes," you tease, voice soft but challenging. "what happened to that whole stupid unbothered vibe?"

"still here," he says, though it sounds more like a lie the longer he holds your gaze.

your grin widens. "doesn't look like it."

you see the exact moment he stops fighting himself—that sharp flicker of decision in his eyes before he moves. suddenly his hand is on your thigh, firm but not rough, heat radiating through your skin like wildfire.

you've got him right where you want him now.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: do not worry, i REPEAT there will be a part two of this where they will be getting freaky, i just want to edge everyone a lil bit hehe

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13

@chrissturnsfav ™

[morganaawriterr]

Two;

SYNOPSIS ➺ In a marriage born out of convenience and plagued by bitterness, You and Sunghoon find yourselves trapped in a cycle of cold indifference and unspoken resentment. Your quiet strength and tender care begin to reach the heart Sunghoon has so carefully guarded. Slowly, walls built from years of hurt and mistrust start to crumble, revealing a shared loneliness neither had acknowledged. With every tentative step toward connection, your hearts yearn for a closeness you’ve long denied yourself selves, leaving both to wonder if you can build something real from the ashes of your forced bond.

NAVIGATION ➺ Intro - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05

PAIRING ➺ fem!reader X husband!Park Sunghoon

GENRE ➺ Arranged Marriage trope; Slow Burn; Angst; Fluff; Smut (kinda)

WARNINGS ➺cursing, mention of pills (some are drugs); abuse; mentions of blood; sexual content; injuries; heavy themes; juicy tension ;)

MUSIC ➺ Listen to 'nevertheless ost' and 'the trunk ost'!!

DISCLAIMER ➺ This story is fiction, and it does not reflect real life in any way. This story is heavily inspired by the kdrama 'The Trunk' on Netflix but with a special twist!

WORDS ➺ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➺ Chapter 02 is here and i'm so excited AHHH. I love this chapter very, very much... the tension between them is growing stronger as time goes by and it's so fun to write! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!! Thank you for all the love and support. It means everything to me <3

You found it strange at first, but now, it’s a little easier to get used to his company. After having a meal with you the other day, Sunghoon comes down every morning for breakfast. He usually doesn’t say much, his grogginess still holding him hostage. Still, he seems more comfortable with you now, and it makes you feel good.

Today is different, though. Instead of cooking breakfast, you woke up early, went to his favorite bakery, and bought some fresh pastries. Sunghoon wakes up and finds it strange how quiet the house is, knowing you’re always loud when cooking. As he slowly approaches the kitchen, you try to hide a smile, excited to see his reaction.

“Woah, when did you buy these?��� Sunghoon’s deep voice sounds surprised and excited as he steps inside. The delicious smell of freshly baked goods and brewed coffee fills the room.

You smile at him. “I went to get them half an hour ago!” you explain, handing him his warm mug of coffee. Sunghoon closes his eyes, inhaling the steam rising from the mug, then shifts his attention to you.

“Thank you, for all of this,” he confesses softly, his voice carrying a hint of embarrassment.

Your attentive eyes meet his, and you respond with a gentle smile. As your brown eyes lock with his, the mood suddenly shifts. The quiet within the house becomes almost deafening, and Sunghoon finds himself mesmerized by your face.

Your long lashes frame your eyes perfectly, and your skin looks soft, inviting his touch. The fullness of your cheeks gives you an adorable, youthful glow. But what captivates him most is your mouth—your pink, plump lips. Sunghoon can’t tear his eyes away from them, entranced, not even registering the words you’re saying.

“Did you even hear me?” you tease, tilting your head with a soft laugh.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, warmth creeping up his cheeks.

“I said… do you want to have dinner with me today?” you repeat, watching his expression closely. Sunghoon looks at you with a gaze you can’t quite decipher.

The truth is, he’s rarely home for lunch or dinner. You don’t know if it’s because he eats at work or simply forgets to feed himself, but when he returns, it’s always past 10 p.m., and you’re already waiting for him in the living room.

“Yeah,” he replies simply, though his mind is racing with countless thoughts.

“Great!” you say, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you take a sip of your coffee.

The silence that follows is familiar and comforting. The two of you eat quietly, occasionally glancing at the TV for the daily news. Today feels lighter—the sun is streaming through the blinds, spreading warmth throughout the house and making it seem cozier despite the usual distance between you two.

After a few minutes, Sunghoon rises from the table and prepares to leave for work, murmuring a quiet “see you later” as the door shuts behind him. You linger at the table, reflecting on the past few weeks and all the small moments you’ve shared with him.

You still stand by your words: you aren’t trying to seduce him. All the patience and care you’ve shown him stem from a deep understanding of his scars. Despite his cold demeanor, you know he’s a good man.

When you first started living together, you and Sunghoon barely interacted. You avoided each other, sneaking around the house to minimize contact. But the effort was draining. Eventually, you decided it would be better to try and get on his good side—to make your shared life less painful.

It felt easier to have him as a friend rather than an enemy, so you began doing for him what you once wanted to do for your old lover. You woke up early to prepare his meals, offering him quiet companionship and care. Though it was difficult at first, you persisted, and over time, it worked.

As you get up to clean the breakfast mess, your thoughts drift to Sunghoon in a way you never expected. His deep, dark-brown eyes carry so much pain, and their intensity quickens your pulse. His smile, with those pointy fangs that peek out, is disarmingly seductive. The first time you saw him smile, it felt as though he had cast a spell on you, his lips so red and inviting…

You chuckle softly, shaking your head at yourself. It’s a hollow laugh, tinged with self-deprecation because you feel pathetic for thinking about him this way. You know he’s still attached to his ex-fiancée—it’s written all over his face whenever he looks at you, as if he’s searching for her in you.

The cold water from the sink jolts you back to reality as you wash the dishes. You remember the promise you made to yourself: you can’t let yourself get lost in his beautiful eyes or unexpectedly warm smile—not when you still love someone else. The thought of that man makes tears well up in your eyes, the ache of missing him cutting deep.

Shaking your head gently, you focus on the task at hand, unwilling to unpack those emotions now. You continue your chores, your empty mind guiding you through each task. It’s not healthy to suppress your feelings, but it’s the only way you can cope.

Upstairs, just as you finish making your bed, you hear the front door close. Plastering on a smile, you walk to the corridor.

“Get over here, silly!” Sunghoon’s mom calls out playfully, her tired eyes lighting up as she looks at you from the main floor.

You let out a genuine laugh and hurry downstairs, your steps echoing on the stone staircase.

“I forgot you were coming!” you pout, opening your arms for the warm hug she eagerly gives you.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s sit down,” she says, patting the empty space on the sofa.

Before joining her, you head to the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea. Knowing her preferences, you take your time, listening as she talks about her plans for a new coffee shop. Her ability to turn mundane topics into captivating stories never ceases to amaze you. Once the tea is ready, you return to the sofa, fully engrossed in her words.

“But enough about me,” she says, her voice softening. “How’s Sunghoon?”

You sip your tea, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks. “I think he doesn’t hate me anymore,” you joke, though the fact that was true before, stings.

“Really? What about the pills? Is he still taking them?” she asks, her tone tinged with concern.

“I think he’s stopped,” you reply thoughtfully. “At least, he’s been sleeping well. Sometimes, he falls asleep in the living room when we hang out before bed. No pills.”

“That’s wonderful news!” she says with a tender smile, relief evident in her expression. “Is he still ignoring you?”

You hesitate, feeling a need to maintain some boundaries despite your fondness for her.

“Not anymore,” you answer after a pause. “We’ve been having breakfast together.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, though a knowing smile spreads across her face. She had always believed this moment would come, which is why she chose you for her son in the first place.

Sunghoon’s mom has known you since you were a child. Your mother was her friend, so you grew up around her. She knows your struggles—the good and the bad—and has always been a source of comfort and understanding.

As Sunghoon’s mom quietly admires your beautiful face she gets flashbacks of your red, puffy face as you cried all the water you had in your body in her arms. That night had been particularly hard for you.

Your own mother was cold and distant, especially after your father left. But unlike her, Sunghoon’s mom had always been there for you. Her words were soothing, her embrace secure, and you trusted her implicitly.

When she proposed the idea of marrying Sunghoon, promising you a life free from financial struggle, you accepted. She believed you had the patience and warmth her son needed, while he could be the love you longed for.

“I hope you two grow even closer,” she says warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You deserve all the love in the world, hun.”

Tears prick your eyes as you try to believe her words, though your past makes it hard.

“Sunghoon is a good man,” she continues. “I told you, he just needed patience and care.”

You fidget nervously, your free hand twisting in your lap. “It hurts when he talks about his past,” you admit quietly.

She notices the way your eyes soften when you speak of him. There’s a brightness there that fills her with hope.

“He’s been through a lot,” she agrees, guilt flashing across her face. “I hope, one day, he shares everything with you. I hope you won’t be scared or pity him—I hope you’ll understand and help him heal.”

Her serious tone leaves your mind racing. Has Sunghoon endured more than just a lack of his father’s love? Has he suffered in ways you can’t yet imagine?

Sensing your thoughts, she quickly adds, “It’s all in the past now, I hope.”

Your hesitant eyes meet hers again, and a warm feeling surges in your chest. You know Sunghoon resents his mother, but you don’t understand why—not when she’s always been so kind and supportive to you.

As she sets down her empty mug and kisses your forehead goodbye, you find yourself wondering why Sunghoon refuses to speak to her. Was she neglectful too? Or complicit in his father’s abuse?

You wanted this dinner to be perfect. It had to be, so you could maintain the good atmosphere between you and Sunghoon. But you should have known better, because just as the day had turned dark and moody, so too would your precious dinner.

You wore something elegant yet simple, not wanting to scare him off: black dress pants and a beautiful cropped red shirt with the first two buttons undone, exposing your collarbones. Your hair, usually free and wild, was carefully tied in a low bun.

On your hands, you wore your expensive wedding ring alongside another silver ring you'd bought years ago. A thin necklace hung around your chest, paired with your favorite perfume.

The potatoes and fish were already cooking in the oven when Sunghoon arrived, their delicious aroma drawing him to the kitchen and making his stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten all afternoon, eagerly waiting for this meal with you. One of the things he loves most about you is your cooking—you’ve won his heart through his stomach.

Peeking inside, Sunghoon watched as you paced around the kitchen, finishing up the meal. His curious eyes traveled over your figure, taking in the way your small frame looked incredibly beautiful in the semi-formal clothes. Your legs fit the straight-leg pants perfectly, accentuating your waist and the bold red of your shirt caught his attention immediately.

His curious gaze shifted from the buttons to your collarbones, deliciously exposed for him to admire. You have such an alluring neck... it looks like his head would fit there perfectly.

Images of him planting slow, wet kisses along your neck clouded his mind. He imagined the way you’d close your eyes, the soft moan you’d let out, and the way you’d probably call his name with a breathy voice.

Sunghoon shook his head, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts. Was this magnetic pull because you were a beautiful woman and he was just a man? Or was it something deeper? He rolled his eyes at himself, dismissing the thought.

“Don’t just stand there! Come in, sit down!” Your voice broke through his daydreaming, catching him off guard.

Sunghoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stepped into the kitchen and sat down, watching as you moved to the corner and reached for the top drawer. He observed your futile attempt to grab the handle, standing on tiptoes and stretching as far as you could without success.

Feeling his intense gaze, you turned around and shot him a quick look. You wished he’d just get up and help, but instead, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for you to ask.

Frustrated, you bit your lip. “Can you… help me?” you said softly, hating that he made you ask.

“Sure, I can,” Sunghoon replied with a smirk as he finally stood and walked toward you. Your eyes followed his every move, and as he stood close, you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

“I want the bread,” you muttered, turning away shyly.

Sunghoon easily reached for the cupboard, grabbed the bread, and placed it on the counter. Then, his deep brown eyes locked with yours.

For a moment, the world seemed to quiet down. You became hyper-aware of your quick breaths and his intoxicating cologne. Sunghoon couldn’t explain it, but the way your brown eyes stared into his made him shiver.

A sudden clap of thunder startled you, making you jump.

The spell was broken as your eyes darted around the room nervously. Sunghoon took the chance to sit back down, trying to ease the heavy feeling in his chest.

“I’m just going to cut the bread, and then dinner will be ready!” you said quickly, your voice making your nervousness easy to spot.

Sunghoon nods and reaches for his phone, forgotten in his pocket. As soon as he unlocks it, he finds a series of unread texts. Most of them were from his ex-fiancée, asking how his day had been and whether he liked the pills she had given him. He sighed deeply, his thumb hovering over the reply box—until you called his name.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He immediately stood and rushed over. Your glossy eyes met his as one of your hands shook, clutching the other.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed. He’d never seen you cry before. But then his gaze dropped to the floor, where a thick drop of blood splattered onto the tiles. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice heavy with concern.

He gently pried your hands apart and froze, horrified at the sight. Blood dripped from your right palm in thick droplets, painting the floor red. Tears spilled from your eyes as you stood there, frozen and scared.

Sunghoon panicked. He grabbed paper towels, pressing them against your hand, but they were quickly soaked through.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured, his voice firm as he cupped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. His fingers brushed against your cheek, though he resisted the urge to wipe away your tears.

You nodded silently, doing as he instructed. Sunghoon quickly wrapped a kitchen towel around your hand and guided you to the door. Your mind was hazy and unfocused, his warm touch still lingering on your skin.

Kneeling, he helped you slip on a pair of his trainers—the closest shoes he could reach, not caring if they were too big. Then, grabbing his coat, he guided you outside toward his car.

The drive to the hospital was short but tense. Raindrops streaked the windows, blurring the city lights as you stared outside, tears silently slipping down your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you’d frozen or why you couldn’t stop crying. The pain wasn’t severe. Perhaps it was the frustration of ruining what was meant to be a perfect dinner. Or maybe it was the way Sunghoon had immediately dropped everything to help you, his eyes full of worry and his hands trembling.

At the hospital, they quickly took you in, leading you to a small room where they began treating your wound. But the image of Sunghoon standing helplessly in the hallway, his hands stained with your blood, remained vivid in your mind. You barely registered the doctor stitching your palm as you replayed the scene over and over.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt? Did they treat you well? If not, just say the word, and I’ll make them pay for it. I’m rich enough to make it happen,” Sunghoon said as he leaned toward you, his voice full of genuine concern.

His worry was so evident that it made you want to cry all over again. Your heart ached as you watched him speak, his lips moving gently as his words flowed. You were too tired to respond, your vision blurring from exhaustion.

Noticing the pale color of your face and the dark circles under your eyes, Sunghoon softened. “Sit here. I’ll talk to the receptionist, and then we’ll go get something to eat,” he said with a gentle smile.

“This is actually better than I expected,” Sunghoon mumbles, taking a sip from his Coca-Cola bottle. He sneaks a glance at you, satisfied to see some color finally returning to your face.

“I love these so much,” you confess in a low voice, slurping the spicy ramen noodles.

Sunghoon giggles at the sight of you, noticing how the sauce has left a stain on your lips. He picks up a napkin and leans forward, reaching for you. You shyly lean closer, assuming he’s about to wipe your mouth for you—and he does. Awkwardly.

“I thought you wanted to…” you mumble, a red blush spreading across your cheeks as it dawns on you that he probably meant to hand you the napkin, not clean your mouth himself.

Sunghoon bursts out laughing again, finding your innocence endearing. Your wide, confused eyes meet his as he sets the dirty napkin down.

“It’s okay. I forgive you this time—only because you’re injured,” Sunghoon teases, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The two of you continue eating in silence, your gaze drifting to the window. You lazily watch the people walking through the city streets. The rain has stopped, allowing everyone to wander freely without umbrellas, though large puddles still dot the roads.

The drive home is quiet once more, except for the soft hum of a slow, romantic song playing on the radio. You rest your head against the window, your eyes heavy with fatigue. Sunghoon glances at you out of the corner of his eye, ensuring you’re comfortable.

When you get home, you immediately head to the kitchen to check on the food still sitting inside the stove. You tried opening it, but your right hand was neatly tied around your neck, and your left hand suddenly forgot how to work.

Sunghoon rushes to your side and gently nudges you away. “Don’t worry, I will take care of it.” he insists, noticing the way your face twists in annoyance. “I know you want to do this, but you can’t. You need to rest.”

“Sunghoon…” you start to argue, but he cuts you off.

“Go to bed. I’ll make you some tea and bring it to your room,” he orders, his arched brow and stern expression leaving no room for debate. You pout but reluctantly shuffle away, irritated.

While waiting for the water to boil, Sunghoon carefully placed the food into containers, mentally promising himself to stop by during lunch tomorrow to try the meal you worked so hard on. Soon, the water starts to boil, and he pours some inside your favorite mug.

By the time he reaches your bedroom, his hands are burning from holding the mug. He suddenly realizes the water might be too hot, but his train of thought is interrupted when your door opens. You stand there shyly, waiting for him to hand you the tea.

The scent of chamomile is quickly overtaken by your familiar perfume, and Sunghoon feels his determination falter. His eyes roam over your figure. Your black hair is loose, cascading down your back. And you are wearing an oversized T-shirt, its open collar exposing your delicate skin. Then his gaze travels downward—only to find your bare legs.

Sunghoon quietly wishes he’d met you under different circumstances.

“Here,” he stutters, holding out the mug.

When you reach out to get the warm cup, your shirt lifts just enough to show Sunghoon that you are not wearing any shorts underneath. Your naked thighs are briefly exposed before him. His eyes immediately find yours, and his skin starts to tingle with impure thoughts of you.

You give him a innocent smile and reach out to gently pat his chest. “Thank you for taking care of me, Sunghoon. Good night,” you say softly, your voice dipping just enough to make him feel the weight of each word.

As you close the door, Sunghoon remains rooted in place, standing stupidly in the hallway. His breathing is uneven as he struggles to process what just happened. A shiver runs down his spine as he shuts his eyes, the image of your bare legs and loose shirt etched into his mind. He curses under his breath and runs a hand through his hair, heat spreading through his body.

Heading back to the kitchen to finish tidying up, Sunghoon notices his phone screen lighting up. Rushing to the table, he picks it up and realizes he left it there hours ago. The screen shows six missed calls and a string of unread text messages—all from his ex-fiancée.

Sunghoon takes a long, anxious breath as he glances around the expensive restaurant. The walls are painted terracotta orange, with gold details adorning the ceiling. Sunlight streams through the windows, reflecting off the polished surfaces and hitting his eyes, irritating him further. He looks away, his hands trembling in his lap as his leg bounces nervously.

From across the room, he watches her approach, the sharp click of her expensive high heels echoing loudly with each step. Their eyes meet almost immediately, and the calm feeling he’s so used to dissolves into unease.

As she closes the table, her perfume seems to be everywhere, invading his personal space and making him sick to his stomach. The truth is, ever since he had experienced your compassion and patience, his ex’s harsh demeanor had lost its appeal entirely.

“Finally, I get to see you!” Jiwon exclaims, her voice laced with a teasing edge.

“I wanted to meet you weeks ago, and you turned me down,” Sunghoon replies honestly, his voice firm but restrained.

She doesn’t respond to his comment. Instead, she sets her designer bag on the table with deliberate precision before scanning his face, trying to decipher the distance that’s grown between them.

“Do you not love me anymore?” she asks suddenly, forcing her eyes to glisten with tears as if to make him feel guilty.

“Jiwon…” he says softly, his heart racing with discomfort. He glances around the restaurant, avoiding her gaze. She had always been good at making him feel guilty.

“Is that bitch better than me?” Jiwon spits, her jealousy obvious as her piercing eyes stare into his.

“Don’t call Y/N that,” he warns, his tone clipped, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “No, she’s not better than you. And yes, I still love you.” His voice drops lower, unable to meet her eyes.

Jiwon smirks at his words, her chest swelling with pride. She knows Sunghoon is still under her spell, and she loves it. After all, she’s just as obsessed with him—so much so that she’s willing to do anything to make him hers again.

“I got these new pills,” Jiwon says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out a photograph with a small bag of pills taped to it. “I thought you’d like this,” she adds confidently, tapping the old photo of them.

Sunghoon doesn’t reply. Slowly, he reaches for the picture, his fingers hesitant and cold. Just as he’s about to take it, his phone vibrates with a message. Quickly, he pulls it from his pocket, already knowing it’s from you.

< Are you not coming? > Today, From: Y/N

< You could have told me. I made too much food. :/ > Today, From: Y/N

A wave of guilt washes over him as he reads your texts, cursing himself for forgetting to let you know he was busy. Jiwon leans forward, trying to peek at his screen, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

“Was that Y/N?” she asks, her voice sharp as she snatches the phone from his hands before he can stop her.

“Jiwon…” he says sternly, his jaw tightening with frustration.

She reads the messages, her lips curving into a mocking pout before she bursts into laughter, echoing through the restaurant.

“Poor thing,” Jiwon sneers, her tone dripping with mockery. “She’s so desperate for your attention—it’s pathetic.” She pouts again, this time fake and exaggerated, her eyes glued to Sunghoon’s face.

Sunghoon grabs the phone back from her hands. “Is this all you wanted to talk about?” he asks, his patience wearing thin as the nausea in his stomach intensifies.

“Yes, hubby,” she responds with a devilish grin, sliding the photo across the table. “Don’t forget these—they’ll help you sleep way better than the other ones in just a few seconds” Jiwon assures him.

Sunghoon exhales deeply, his nerves stretched tight. He picks up the photo, shoving it into his pocket without a word. Rising from his seat, he turns and walks away, leaving a smug and victorious ex-fiancée behind.

You were back at home, eating in silence. Well, at least trying to eat. An uneasy feeling weighed on you, and all you could do was push the food around your plate with your fork.

You glanced outside for a few moments, admiring the beautiful day. Suddenly, your phone buzzed, and you reached for it at lightning speed, hoping it was a message from Sunghoon. But it wasn’t him—just your weather app informing you of the temperature outside.

Frustrated, you pushed your phone away with a sigh, hating how worried you were about him. Deciding you were done with the meal, you got up and tidied the kitchen. That’s when an idea crossed your mind.

The soft breeze against your skin felt freeing and comforting as you strolled outside. You smiled softly at the children running past you in the park. Soon, you spotted him sitting on a wooden bench beneath the shade of a tree.

“Oh my gosh, Sunoo, I missed you so much!” you exclaimed excitedly, wrapping your arms around him in a warm hug.

“Girl, where have you been?” he asked sarcastically, dramatically tucking his blonde hair behind his ear.

“You know, I’m a married woman now. And his house is ridiculously big—there’s always something to do,” you complained, rolling your eyes playfully.

The two of you caught up, chatting about your dramatic marriage and his skyrocketing career as a fashion designer. He looked genuinely happy as he spoke, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

But your mind drifted, thinking about him—the person who had introduced Sunoo to you: Ni-ki. The thought of him made your chest tighten. Sunoo noticed the change in your expression, and his hand reached out to give your knee a gentle squeeze.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s Sunghoon…” you lied, shaking your head slightly. “There’s a reason I contacted you today. I need your detective skills,” you teased, a mischievous smile curling on your lips.

“Go on, tell me.”

“I think his ex-fiancée is behind all the pills he has,” you said in a low voice, the mood suddenly turning serious. “His mom told me he never had issues sleeping or anything like that. It was only after they started living together that he became addicted.” You paused briefly, choosing your words carefully. “And I know she’s still in contact with him. She keeps spamming his phone.”

Sunoo’s mouth fell open as he stared at you, clearly taken back.

“Wait, that actually makes sense,” he said, his brows furrowing as he nodded. “I can get someone to follow her—no problem,” Sunoo said seriously, his gaze steady as it met yours.

Then, after curiously looking at the big band-aid in your palm, he added, “Wait, what happened to your hand?”

“I cut myself cooking, it's nothing really,” you insisted, breaking eye contact. You knew that if he pushed just a little more, you’d crack.

Thankfully, he let it slide this time. A comfortable silence fell between you as your eyes scanned the bustling park, though your heart remained heavy with thoughts of Sunghoon.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi @lovingvoidgoatee @mitmit01 @miuwonis @aureliaaaa555 @han-to-my-minho @heeweenie @vixensss @ro-diares @hoonvinx @immelissaaa @jiryunn @quilevyt @vrusha01 @kkamismom12 @skzenhalove @theothernads @moonpri @nicoleparadas @fightqueen @heesunghooney @starl0ver4 If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[matchaelette]

gif by @yoongi-bts

when jungkook is a vessel of love, and love is as beautiful as the poets said it was

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, the first time 'I love you' was spoken out aloud. the more earlier stages of their relationship. yearning, tenderness, fluff, it's all sickeningly full of love.

genre: fluff

warnings: none.

word count: 3.4k

notes: life updates. one: i'm back. obviously. two: jung hoseok is back and ksj 1 is coming (!!!) three: I am officially a uni student and majoring in civil engineering. classes start from the first week of december. four: I have decided to officially name this drabble series *drumrolls* the hopeless romantic series. so, without further ado, welcome back, our hopeless romantic couple!

you’re in love with jungkook.

no, you’re not allowed to say that.

fuck what you’re allowed and not allowed.

you’re desperately, helplessly, hopelessly in love with jeon jungkook. your gorgeous, gorgeous boy.

yours.

then why are you not allowed to be in love with him?

because you’ve been dating him for three months. three months.

only three months, since you decided to stop pining after him, decided it was enough, after god knows how long. three months since that decision led you to be extremely nonchalant around him, calm and collected to a point where it almost looked fake (you’re a terrible actor), and the next thing you knew, you were heavily making out with him in the chilly air of a fall night. calm and collected, indeed. three months since you learned that jungkook was pining for you in the same manner, if not more, and three freaking months since both of you decided to date, being head over heels for one other ever since.

it's too soon to say ‘I love you’. even if you know deep down that you were in love with him even before dating him– but there’s no way you’re treading that water. the realization of being in love with him right now is enough to freak you out. no, it’s definitely too soon to declare ‘I love you’.

because you don’t know whether jungkook feels the same way. although it’s not like you need or expect him to feel the same way you do. just because you’re in love with him doesn’t mean he has to be. you can happily wait until he’s ready and feels the same way.

you’re just scared that he doesn’t want to feel that way. that you’ll scare him away.

look at him. does he look like he feels the same as you?

jeon jungkook looks like a slow-motion daydream, standing in front of you. tight-fitting jeans, snug around the well-defined muscles of his thighs, and a black checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up, displaying the protruding veins of his arm. his curly hair covers the vein in his forehead, almost reaching down to his lips which were pouting in distress.

yeah, you don’t care how he feels. you’re in love with him.

but you are a graveyard of all the people you ever loved.

you can’t have jungkook join those ghosts of the past.

“this thing–”, the boy of your dream grumbles out loud in real life, breaking your thought train, “–hates me!”

oh, that.

“three hours now. we’ve been trying to fix it for three hours.”, you shake your head, frustrated. you’ve been out all day today and the last thing you wanted to do when you got back home was your laundry. but the lack of fresh clothes compelled you to do it anyway. and everything would’ve been fine had you not entered your laundry room to discover the whole floor flooded with water. panicked and disoriented, your first instinct was to call jungkook, despite it being past midnight. when your boyfriend heard what had happened, he immediately demanded you step aside and that he was already on his way over to your house.

now, it’s four in the morning and you’re both dripping wet, absolutely drained, standing in a puddle of water and soap. all you could do is to stare dejectedly at the washing machine. it was a losing battle.

“oh my god!”, jungkook cries out in indignation, “a minute ago it was sprinkling water in my face, now it’s sprinkling soapy water!”

“jungkook, move away”, you hurriedly pull your boyfriend away from your washing machine. he rebels under your grip, the patience he displayed half an hour ago was now transformed into rage.

how can someone be so cute when they’re mad?

“let me go, ash”, he points a threatening finger at the washing machine, “you wanted a fight, buddy? I’ll give you!”

“jungkook!”, you laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, “it already won! look at us!”

jungkook stares down at your attached bodies, soaked from top to bottom, while the washing machine looks like it is having a field trip.

“okay, I give up”, he sighs and rests his chin on the top of your head, “unless–”

“no unless.”

“hear me out first”, he smooches your hair, “you smell amazing by the way. anyways, unless– wait, what was I going to say? I was supposed to say something amazing.”

“I’m sure it was amazing, babe”, you chuckle with fondness, “but that thing is a lost cause. I’ll call maintenance in the morning. let’s take a shower and go to sleep, okay?”

“mhm. yeah”, he replies in affirmation but only tightens his arms around you.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late. I should’ve just– I don’t know. I mean, it was just a minor inconvenience. not a big deal. I don’t know why I freaked out–”

“princess, ssh”, jungkook coos, “you have a problem, you call me. doesn’t matter how small or big it is.”

“kook, I literally called you at one in the morning.”

“and I am very glad that I am the first person that crossed your mind. even though I couldn’t help you. I swear to god, this washing machine has a personal grudge against us.”

“thank you anyways”, you mumble against his chest.

“hey, this is what boyfriends are for.”

how is it possible not to love him?

you wake up to the humming of a honey-caramel voice in the distance.

you yawn and grab the crisply folded silk robe from the foot of your bed. the clothes haphazardly tossed on the ground last night were nowhere in sight, and neither was the person who did so. yet you could hear his hums, feel his warmth.

you smile.

the clock on the wall reflects a bright 11:10, and it’s safe to say that you’ve just woken up. after staying up with your rogue washing machine till four in the morning, you can’t really blame yourself. you feel very well-rested though, for the first time in a while.

jeon jungkook’s presence has that kind of power.

you make an effort to stay silent in your own house. your bare feet tiptoe against the icy floors, carrying you to the sweet melody you’re fairly certain is your boyfriend in the kitchen. and undoubtedly it is. jeon jungkook has his back turned towards you– white tee clinging to his physique, his hair damp and disheveled, singing softly to himself while doing the dishes.

you hold your breath and hug him from the back, resting your cheek against his spine.

jungkook, momentarily confused, laughs when he realizes it’s you.

“good morning princess.”

“good morning jungkook”, you inhale him in. he smells like peaches and baby soap. and fresh laundry. “you smell heavenly.”

“I just came out of the shower–”

 “–hey!”, you cut him short when he gently peels you off him, unexpectedly devoid of warmth, but jungkook hugs you back in an instant; your ear against his ribcage, his chin on the top of yours.

“mmm, that’s better”, you mumble, “did you do the laundry? you smell like detergent.”

 you can almost reach out and touch the outlines of his smile. “you couldn’t do it last night so I thought I’d take some work off your shoulders. I folded your clothes as well!”

“aww, you didn’t have to do– wait, the washing machine is fixed?”

“yeah, I called the repairmen in the morning and they said they were coming over. I was pretty surprised at how quickly they arrived.”

“what happened?”

“one of the pipes got leaked somehow. I think I also did some damage when I tried to fix it. but don’t worry, it’s as good as new.”

“not worrying”, you let go of jungkook and let muscle memory guide you to the coffee machine, “why did you wake up so early?”

 “it’s one p.m. in the afternoon. what’re you talking about?”, jungkook laughs.

“it’s one p.m.?!”, you choke on your coffee, “the clock– but it was eleven–”

“it’s out of battery. I got new ones though”, jungkook points at the bags sitting on your counter.

“you went grocery shopping? you spent an entire lifetime while I slept!”, jungkook chuckles at your awe, “tell me from the beginning. what did you do?”

“well, I called the repairmen as soon as I woke up and then I went to take a shower. they were here by the time I was done. I made us breakfast while they fixed your machine, went grocery shopping afterward, came back and did laundry, here I am now”, jungkook kisses your forehead, “all while someone slept like a baby.”

“oh my god. thank you so much.”

I love you.

“you’re welcome, babe”, he smiles, “I gotta leave now. but listen, I got you ice cream, popcorn and those salty chips you seem to love so much. call me if you need anything else.”

“huh? why though?”, you peer in confusion. you’re usually not very big on snacking. and jungkook knows that. unless it’s your–

“your period is supposed to start tomorrow, genius”, he rolls his eyes, “you don’t remember, do you?”

you clearly didn’t.

apparently, he did.

you tiptoe forward to hug jungkook, too stunned to form any coherent word. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the tears filling your eyes but when he lifts your face to gently kiss your eyelids, you realize that he knew you were gonna cry.

yeah, I definitely love you.

“hello, jungkookie’s girlfriend!”

kim taehyungs’s visibly enthusiastic face beams at you through the screen of your phone. your initial reaction is to wave brightly at him, despite the slight confusion of whether you accidentally called him when you picked up the phone to facetime your boyfriend.

“hi, tae!”, you say heartily, “gosh, it’s been a while since I saw you.”

“and whose fault is that, huh?”, taehyung’s voice is a warm breeze on a spring evening, “jungkookie tells me you’ve been like… hella busy”

“I was. I mean, I am. it feels like I am always busy these days”, you sigh, “but never busy enough for you guys! how are you?”

“good. busy as well, but good.”

“kook told me last night. you guys work way too hard.”

“wait”, taehyung exploded into laughter, “jungkookie was at your place last night?”

“...yeah?”

“our manager was looking for him and jungkookie was going on and on about how he was in his room all night and manager hyung didn’t knock loudly enough!”

“oh my god, he wasn’t supposed to be at mine yesterday?”

“no, I mean, he was done working but he didn’t tell anyone before leaving the dorm!”

“that might be my fault”, guilt fills your eyes, “I was doing laundry last night and my washing machine started leaking water everywhere. I panicked and called kook. I’m sorry”

“hey, it’s okay, no harm was done”, taehyung looks amused, “so you were doing laundry at midnight? no wonder jungkookie is obsessed with you.”

“obsessed with me, huh?”, you smile playfully, concealing the tiny somersault your heart does.

“he literally never stops talking about you”, taehyung grins widely, “bro is whipped”

“hmm, I did call bro’s phone, right? or did I accidentally call you?”

“how do accidentally call taehyung instead of jungkook? one starts with t and one starts with j”, taehyung suddenly looks disgusted, “unless you saved him as something weird, in that case, I don’t wanna know–”

“kim taehyung.”

“or you can just tell me that you missed me, you know”, taehyung flips his phone camera and you spot a dancing jeon jungkook in the middle of a huge practice room, “but since the only person you care about is jungkookie–”

“kim taehyung–”

“–you called him, okay?”, you hear taehyung’s laughter, “I was playing games on his phone. he’s practicing extra today.

“practicing extra?”

“he said you guys made plans to hang out tomorrow.”

“we– we did”, you’re puzzled. jungkook continues to dance furiously, his quick and precise movements almost defying gravity, completely unaware of his surroundings, “wait, we planned to meet tomorrow because both of us had a clear schedule. why is he practicing extra today?”

“hobi hyung was asking him the same thing”, taehyung nods his head in mock disappointment, “we don’t really have a free schedule tomorrow. but he said that if you couldn’t meet tomorrow it’d be a while before you did. right?”

“y-yeah”, you blink.

“soooo, yeah. as I said, bro’s so whipped.”

oh god. be still my wild heart.

“this boy”, you finally exhale after a pause; feeling bad that he’s overworking himself to meet your needs, feeling grateful that it’s worth it to him.

“this boy, indeed. no, actually, we’re kinda proud of how amazingly we raised him.”

“you really, really did. ya’ll should give out parenting lessons.”

taehyung chuckles, “okay, I’ll give the phone to him.”

“tae, don’t”, you smile, quickly stopping him from calling jungkook, “just tell him to call me whenever he’s free, okay? I’ll be up.”

“okay, then. take rest, okay? don’t overwork yourself.”

“look who’s preaching”, you shoot him a stern look, “the kings of overworking themselves. take care, okay?”

taehyung laughs, “yeah. come over to the dorm whenever you’re free. we all miss you.”

“I will. bye!”

“kook– stop it–”, you say in between a few puffs of breath, “you’re– god– tickling me!”

“am I?”, jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, and smothers his face on the exposed skin of your tummy once again, causing you to almost choke with another round of laughter. the sensation of his lips against your tummy has the butterflies inside going frenzy, but a part of you is scared shitless that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with yourself.

you want to laugh; you want to cry. you wanna twirl into a knot and fly up in the sky. jungkook has no idea of the power he has over you– his body molds into yours, one his hands have shaped, a design he has drawn, kissed it into a sculpture.

you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it.

I love you. I love you so much that I can’t deny it any longer, the promise stays silent on your tongue.

you wanna cry.

at least, you think you do.

“your heartbeat is going crazy”, jungkook calms down once he’s done tickling you out of your wits. he moves between your thighs and presses his ear against your heart space while gently laying his head on your chest.

yeah, do you know that is because I love you and not because you tickled the living lights outta me?

“princess?”, he asks quietly.

say it.

“princess?”, jungkook raises his head and looks at you, mildly concerned “are you okay?”

say something.

instead, you stare at him. you stare at his eyes. if eyes are actually a mirror of people’s souls, jungkook’s eyes perfectly represent his– filled to the brim with tenderness, tranquility, and mirth. a few years ago, you had read somewhere that humans were created from the burned-out embers of stars. you never believed it. the same folks who start wars, spill blood, stealing lying deceiving and doing everything evil, cannot be created from something so divine.

however, jungkook, over and over again, contradicts that belief. you have no doubt he’s born out of stardust. and fiery comets, northern lights, solar eclipses, everything magic.

“why are you crying?!”, jungkook’s anxious voice snaps you out of your reverie. without realizing you find yourself getting pulled up to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. “is it me? did I do something?”

“itsh nn-not”, you utter weakly but the words come out as a stifled sob. when jungkook doesn’t understand what you’re saying, he completely loses his composure. he lets go of you and attempts to pry himself away, fairly convinced that he must’ve done something stupid. but you dig your fingers in his arms, trying to communicate with your firm grip that he did nothing wrong. it’s you, you’re the stupid one.

it takes him a few more seconds to realize that you’re crying for something else altogether, and only then does he relax. he wraps his arms around you, letting you break down in his little protective bubble.

what is wrong with me? why does every feeling of mine come out as tears?

“it’s okay, it’s okay”, jungkook coos, “breathe. breathe with me.”

“inhale with me”, he holds eye contact and carefully guides your breath, “good. now exhale. in. and out. it’s okay. I love you. you’re okay, princess.”

and

everything

just

freezes

for a moment.

for a moment?

seems like a lifetime.

you never realize how many types of ‘I love you’s there are until they’re spoken out aloud. most ‘I love you’s are expressed as a confession, while there are some which are born out of panic. I love you. do you love me back? these ‘I love you’s are full of anxiety, and a desperate longing for reassurance, for arms that’ll keep them safe. some are born out of anger and frustration. I’m doing this for you, because I love you, why don’t you understand? then there are those which are born out of pure terror because I love you but I’m afraid that all I’ll ever do is hurt you.

jungkook’s ‘I love you’ sounded like it was nurtured, a flower that bloomed inside a long time ago. like a blanket woven from your favorite human on the entire planet and falling asleep with someone inside your heart no matter how alone you feel outside; a promise.

not that any of you were in the right state of mind to realize that.

you and jungkook realize at the same time. the words that have been spoken out to existence.

he stares at you; you stare at him. devastated, mouth hanging, eyes bulging. none of you breathing.

jungkook closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.

“that was not a mistake”, his voice is deep and low. you hold your breath, afraid to miss a single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I do. I will if you allow me to. not that I can help it– I mean, even if you don’t allow it I can’t help myself. I love you. it’s not like I can just un-love you! wait, why do I need your permission anyway? it’s my feelings we’re talking about! okay, but it does concern you”, jungkook looks mortified, “but still, you don’t have to say it back. it’s great if you do but like, there’s no pressure. just don’t tell me to un-love you because that one is none of your business, oka–”

you kiss him. you kiss the living lights out of him. jungkook doesn’t even register what’s happening, he just accepts everything– the way your lips smashes against his, the way your tongue envelops his, finding you in every corner of his mouth, feeling you in every inch of his skin; a drunkard clinging onto every last drop of alcohol yet never having enough.

jungkook is literally panting when you let go of him.

 “I was crying because I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a while now and I didn’t know how to say so”, you confess. only a few words are enough to make realization flash in his eyes. after all, he knows you. he knows you well enough to know everything, even the things he doesn’t.

“I must’ve been a saint in my past life to deserve this”, jungkook closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.

“I think this is your first life. you’re like the sugar in a cookie.”

“what? I thought I was the cookie!”, jungkook furrows his eyebrows, offended, “also, sugar isn’t good for you. what are you talking about?!”

you giggle in response.

“hey! take it back”, he overpowers you in a swift motion. he reels your bodies backward to hover over you, pinning your hands down on the mattress, smirking. “otherwise you’re gonna regret it.”

“regret? nah, I think I will enjoy it”, your smirk wipes off the one on his face.

“oh boy”, he sighs.

“jungkook?”

“yeah?”

“say it again”, you whisper.

“I love you.”

“again.”

“I love you.”

[aviradasa]

Hello! Hope you’re doing great? I saw you wanted some Sally face request…

Can we have some Sally face characters (Sal, Larry, Ash?) x reader make out headcanons ? 🥹 I think I’ll fall down on my knees for some Sal x reader or Larry x reader make out sessions 😭 thank u

AHH, thank you!! Would love to write this! Sorry if it's a bit short, especially towards the end.I was just really excited to post this. It's not my best work, but that just means there's room for more improvement! I hope you enjoy it anyway

Sal,Larry,ash Makeout Hc.

Sal/Larry/ash x reader (seprately)

{All characters are 18+}

{Warnings: some swearing, some sexual content}

Masterlist

Sal:

So, as an adult sal, I feel it is a bit less awkward and more Idgaf about dumb shit

So I feel like if you're close enough with him to not only be seeing his face and dating him, then he's pretty chill when making out. Unless you catch him off guard 😉

Normally, your guy's makeouts start pretty regular

Like you'll just be sitting together in your guys' room at the house watching a movie or listening to him playing guitar while you fuck around on the gearboy

Going with the latter, you'll be sneaking glances of him while he's just jamming out while trying to learn a song.

He just looks so relaxed and pretty even with his scars as his fingers move across the strings. His prosthetic is off, and sitting on the dresser and his fake eye is out and sitting in its cup, his blue hair is down and covers his face a bit casting shadows

Before you know it, you're not just sneaking glances. you're just full-on staring at him

And he knows. He lowkey finds it funny. Because with him, he doesn't try. He's not gonna try and get you flustered. It just happens and he's aware of it

He looks at you still playing, and he smiles at you. Just for a moment before looking back down at his guitar. And at that point, you're done.

You set down the gear boy without a word creeping towards him silently. He sees you but keeps trying to figure out the riff in the song just right

You creep up to his side, careful not to knock the neck of the guitar as you wrap your arms around his neck lazily.

"It sounds really good, baby. I think you almost got it." You compliment resting your chin on his shoulder

"Thanks, I think I've got it down pretty good. I just gotta get better with the timing. I'm holding the notes too long." He says before leaning forward to set the instrument against the dresser.

In a couple seconds, you find yourself weasling your way into his lap.

He holds you gently but firmly in place with one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head tangled sweetly in your hair.

He's not really grabby. Of course, his hands will roam a bit, but he's more of a hold you in place, so you don't wanna go anywhere, guy.

Anyways

Even with his scarred lips, he's a good kisser. Very attentive. He knows what you're feeling and your intentions just by how you're kissing him, where your hands are,how hard you're gripping at him. He just gets it

Making out with him is full of emotion. Like, have you ever kissed someone, and you're just like I wanna write poetry about the feeling I have right now, but I don't have the words to even describe it

That's how kissing him/making out with him feels. And you can't help but grip onto him.

He can go on like this for ages.its not gonna get boring.

He will just lean back against the wall and prop his legs up so when you pull back, your face is above his.

He says he does that cause he likes pulling away to look into the eyes of the beauty before him.

Ok, he's a bit corny, but we love him

Also, his hands are pretty rough, I think, especially his fingertips. They are really calloused from playing guitar, and he might have some cuts and scrapes from messing around on the 5th floor of the apartments when he's told to go over there cause of Larry.

But anyways lol

Overall, he is amazing. An amazing partner and an amazing Makeout partner.hes just really chill, and it's honestly up to you a lot of the time if it leads to anything.lol

Unless you somehow find a way to make him jealous, and that extremely difficult to pull off 😉

Larry:

Larry is a rougher guy. Don't get me wrong, he's a sweetie, but he's really enthusiastic, and he's got a lot of energy

To be honest, making out is like his favorite pastime when yall are alone.

He just loves the feel of you being all up on him,and he's addicted to the taste of your lips.

Though he's not attentive as Sal, he's still a good kisser. Like I said, he's just rough cause he can't seem to get enough.

You guys will just be chilling in his room after the group leaves, and he'll just becken you over to him with a questioning grin, which you know what that means. If you don't come up to him he's not gonna force you.

Consent king. But honestly that can be said for all of them

There's really nothing emotional about it he's gripping, and he is grabbing. His hands will roam your body. So he likes to make out while laying down.

Couch,bed,floor, as long as he has access to everything. Like not necessarily always in a dirty way, he just likes the feeling of touching you.

Like he just loves it, feeling your body on/next to him is his favorite thing

Also His lips are chapped as hell, but that does not stop you guys.

And he does not just keep his lips on yours. Absolutely not. Making out with him is a dangerous game if you have any of the following

Stric parents (like if you have not moved out yet or if you are going to visit them), a job , a college life.

Cause he be leaving hickies. Like I'm talking big as purple hickeys. And they will be everywhere. It's like, are you dating a god damn vampire? It's not even bites, either it's just hickeys.

From your neck down to your fucking thighs just bruises

Ash once pulled you aside and asked if everything was OK cause she thought that the marks where from him beating on you instead of kissing you.

W ash, by the way, everyone needs a friend like her who will check up on you

But he just is a little rough. You love it, tho. But he will tone it down if you want him to.

Like shit you had a bad day? Come over here, lay down,relax, and he will slow down and pamper you with words and slow kisses.

What a sweetheart, and He's just happy to have you close to him.

Overall, he's more of a physical guy, so of course, the makeouts hold more of a physical value, which is alright! He loves you and that's just his way of showing it

Ash:

Ash is actually amazing at makeouts. She knows you entirely. Better than you know yourself sometimes

With her, you get everything. You want it to be a rougher Makeout.

Bet

Girls got you. She'll be all up on you kissing,grabbing,tugging,loving (always) she'll have you however you want.

She will do it all to satisfy, and you would do the same for her.

You want it soft bet, she's cuddling you while you guys lips move with each other while a movie plays in the background.

Making out with her is so calming to.

You could have had the most stressful days at work, and when you come home, she'll immediately be asking what's up noticing you're off.

It would probably be later she would mostly be ready for the evening in pajamas just chilling,and upon your response, she's giving you a hug and leading you into you guys room to talk.

After unloading your troubles, she'll just fuckin hold you and eventually it just turns into a lazy lil Makeout.

It's not much, but it feels so loving, and all your pain and troubles from the day feel like they are just melting away cause of her lips.

She takes care of herself as well, so her lips are pretty soft.

Along with her skin. Her hands are a bit calloused due to her constantly doing art projects and working on her motorcycle.

But it's kind of a nice contrast.

She does have wondering hands, but unlike Larry, she's not a grabber she's a feeler.

Her hands wonder in a calming yet attractive way, mostly across your arms and back, maybe over your thigh a but.

I guess she's a more sensual Makeout partner. But she's just overall amazing with it.

You always feel safe in her arms, and even better is that she's really good at makeouts without making them sexual.

Like a lot of the time, makeouts seem heavily sexual even when they aren't supposed to be, but with her, it's not sexual unless you both want it to be.

And you're grateful for it cause sometimes you just wanna be able to love on your partner without it being sexual and that's fine. She loves it to

She's just an amazing person and an amazing partner who knows you well and what you want as well as knowing herself and it shows.

[shockercoco]

Rainbow vs. Leather

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - some swearing, flirty! and nervous! Benny

Word count - 2397

a/n - request: Hi!! If interested can you please do a Benny Cross x reader who is an unofficial member of the gang?. . .Benny likes her and try’s to give her hints but she thinks that he is just being nice because she had bad luck with guys who only always saw her has a friend and so, he has to be blunt with her one day. And the rest is up to you. Thank you." - read the full request here. i think 2k words is just gonna be my average at this point lol, i hope you enjoy :)

“Do I have to?” You had asked your parents one night at dinner — they had basically turned it into an intervention.

Your parents weren’t a huge fan of you just lounging around the house all the time with nothing to do, although you had no problem with just kicking back and watching a little television. They thought you needed to get out and socialize and make some friends. 

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but making friends wasn’t an easy thing for you. You came off as shy at first, but once you got comfortable in your environment you became pretty talkative and outgoing. This was also a problem when having conversations with people because sometimes they thought you didn’t want to talk, or even worse, that you didn’t like them for some reason. 

You wanted to come out of your shell, so when your parents told you that they wanted you to get a job, you were hesitant but you agreed. 

At least they weren’t kicking you out of the house.

What they didn’t know is that you would get a job at the local bar where all the Vandals hung out, the town’s motorcycle club. It was easy for you since Johnny, a close family friend —  leader and owner of the club — practically owned the bar, so when you had asked him for a job, he was completely fine with it.

Your parents thought you would get a job at something like the grocery store or the book store down the street, but since they loved Johnny they were okay with you working at the bar. 

So now here you are, your third week as a bartender and you enjoyed it. For the most part, the guys were pretty respectful and you rarely had any problems — mainly because Johnny basically threatened them into treating you right before you even started. 

There was this instance a couple days ago with a drunk guy, though. He kept getting closer and closer to you, and when it became clear he wasn’t going to leave you alone, Johnny interrupted and kicked the guy out of the bar.

You told Johnny that you had it handled, but he had just dismissed you and said, “No lady should have to deal with that.”

It was pretty obvious that this wasn’t your usual crowd. You enjoyed wearing colorful clothes and jewelry, but you did try and tone it down a little so that you didn’t stick out too much. Thankfully, you had made a couple of friends so you didn’t feel too out of place.

“You should come out riding with us later,” Kathy, a new friend, tells you from the other side of the bar counter.

“On a motorcycle? Are you crazy?” You ask as you lean against the counter. A lot of the guys had already gotten their drinks, and they didn’t want to get too drunk for the ride later, so you didn’t have too much to do.

“What else would I be talking about?” she playfully rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe a car ride?”

“When was the last time you had fun?” She asks you as she taps the ashes off the end of her cigarette.

“Yesterday while watching some game show,” you joke, and Kathy just laughs.

“How are you two doing over here?” Benny walks up with a glass in his hand, taking a seat next to Kathy.

Benny was another one of your new friends, and you enjoyed whenever he was around. Mostly because you liked how he made your heart flutter just by looking at you or giving you that smirk of his. You hate to admit it, but you were a goner the first day you had met him.

He wasn’t your usual type, but who cares. The whole point of this job was to get you to become more open. You highly doubted that the feelings were reciprocated on his end, though.

But little did you know they were. Just like you, Benny had fallen for you as soon as he laid eyes on you. He had just entered the bar and joined a game of pool with some of the other Vandals.

As he was lining up his shot, he heard a laugh that he hadn’t heard before. All the laughs he was used to were from the other Vandals or the raspy laughs from the girls that hung around and smoked.

Your laugh was different — light and airy and sometimes started off as just a giggle and got interrupted with a snort. It was also loud enough to be heard over the regular chatter of the bar, making Benny miss his shot.

The guys had joked and asked if he was distracted, but he just brushed it off and tried to regain his focus.

When he looked up furrowed eyebrows to see who was causing the noise powerful enough to throw him off his game, he noticed you standing there behind the bar. You are laughing at something Johnny had said to you as you poured him a drink.

Benny ended up missing his next two shots, and he surprisingly wasn’t upset when he lost the game.

Benny needed to know who you were, and he made that his mission from then on. He tried to send you signals that he was interested in you, but for some reason you weren’t picking them up. He loved the way you giggled at something he said or how your soft hand accidentally brushed his as you handed him his drink. 

He was trying so hard to be patient, including now as he saw you talking with Kathy with a gentle smile.

“I’m trying to get her to join us later tonight for the night ride,” Kathy answers him.

“And?” Benny asks hopefully, his eyebrows raised as he looks at you with humor written across his face.

“Not happening,” you shake your head.

“Why not?” he continues.

“Because she doesn’t like fun,” Kathy butts in before you can answer.

“Hey, I do like to have fun. It’s just that my version of fun and yours is different,” you defend.

“Have you ever been on a motorcycle?” Benny asks you as he rubs his hand over his chin. When you shake your head in response, he asks, “Do you want to?”

“Not really a huge fan of putting my life on the line like that,” you tell him. Benny chuckles, Kathy joining in. 

“It’s not that dangerous, we don’t always drive fast. Tonight’s just a cruise. Come on,” Benny says.

His intense gaze is almost enough to make you say yes…but no. Being on the back of a motorcycle didn’t seem as safe as being inside a closed up car.

“I’m okay, plus my parents might kill me if I stay out too late,” you say.

“Doesn’t Johnny know your parents? I’m sure they wouldn’t be too mad,” says Kathy.

Benny’s face contorts into surprise at Kathy’s statement. He looks back at you for confirmation, and you give him a silent nod.

“What about me?” Johnny questions as he hears his name being mentioned. He gives you a smile as he hands you his glass to refill.

Good, hopefully he can help you get out of this.

“We’re trying to convince her to come out with us, but she’s too afraid,” Kathy explains. You let out a scoff.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Johnny agrees, taking a sip from his glass.

What?

Your eyes widen as your lips slightly parted in disbelief.

Johnny shakes his head in amusement at your expression. “I promise it’s not that bad, you’ll be safe with us. If you get in any trouble with your parents, I’ll talk to them myself.”

You look at the three pairs of eyes staring back at you, waiting for your answer — Kathy with her eyebrows raised, Benny with a daring look behind his eyes, and Johnny with a smirk.

“Fine,” you surrender, throwing your hands in the air as the group in front of you lets out a small cheer. 

As the night at the bar comes to an end, the bikers take that last sip from their glass and throw on their colors, before filing out the door and heading toward their bikes. Hoots and hollers fill the air as everyone begins to hype each other up. 

“You can ride with me,” you hear Benny tell you as he walks past you and toward his own motorcycle. He doesn’t look back at you as he starts up the bike and waits as everyone else does the same.

Get on a bike. With Benny.

You spot Kathy on a bike with Cal. When she sees you looking, she nods her head towards Benny and smiles. You inhale a deep breath to give yourself before heading towards Benny, who offers you his hand as you climb on behind him.

“Well I’ll be damned, is Rainbow finally coming?” Brucie laughs when he sees you. He gave you the nickname when he saw you on your first day dressed in pastel colors and joked about how bright your clothes were. The name has stuck with you ever since, unfortunately.

“Hell yeah,” Cockroach shouts, along with a few others.

You roll your eyes and try to hide the smile forming across your lips. Benny instructs you to wrap your arms around his torso, which you do with uncertainty. You’re not sure how high or low you should have your hands and how tight to hold onto him. 

This feels oddly intimate. 

He smells like cigarettes — which would normally be a huge turn off if it was someone else — along with sweat from the multiple rounds of pool he played throughout the night, and his natural musk. 

Benny must’ve noticed your nervousness because he grabs your hands and places them on his abdomen, allowing you to feel the muscles beneath his shirt. He gives your hands a small pat as if to keep them in place before following the rest of the Vandals as they pull out onto the street.

You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. The way the wind whips around and through, taking your breath away in such an addicting way. The way the motorcycle vibrates your whole body, only intensifying your experience. You’re not sure how fast Benny’s going, but you couldn’t care less.

You hate to admit it, but the ride is over too quickly for your liking. As Benny separates from everyone else and pulls up in front of your house, you realize the smile currently on your face hasn’t left since the ride started.

Benny comes to a slow stop before cutting the engine and helping you off the bike and onto the sidewalk. Your body is still buzzing from the vibration of the bike, but you enjoy the feeling.

There’s a silence between the two of you as he watches you  for a moment, looking you up and down.

“What?” You laugh nervously as you shift under his gaze. You wrap your arms around your body, not just to shield yourself from the window, but from him.

Benny smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing. I take it you enjoyed the ride.”

“I did actually,” you nod.

“So you wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again sometime?” he asks.

“I guess not,” you say.

“With me,” he adds, more as a statement than a question.

You blink. “What?”

“You know what. I’m asking you to come riding with me,” he says casually.

You want to say something, but honestly you're at a loss for words.

“Come on, you know you want to,” he smirks.

“And why would I do that?” you question.

“Because I want you to,” he shrugs his shoulders as he looks out into the distance. Benny takes a breath and hesitates for a second before looking back at you. It’s now or never. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get your attention?”

“My attention?” you ask, but you think you know where he’s headed with this.

“Yes, your attention. I’ve been flirting with you pretty much everyday since you started working at the bar, and you don’t seem to notice. I mean, some of the other guys have picked up on the fact that I like you.”

“I thought you were just being nice,” you tell him, your forehead creasing.

“Nice?” Benny scoffs with a laugh. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that.” 

“I don’t know, I just-I thought you were being nice since I’m always hanging around Kathy!”

“Even Kathy has noticed!” he throws a hand up.

“Lower your voice!” you hush him. It’s after midnight, and you don’t want everyone on the street to start looking out of their windows.

You really don’t know what to say now, though. Like, what the hell have you been doing all this time?

Well, to be fair, people don’t usually flirt with you.

“So….”

“So….” Benny drags out. “Will you put me out of my misery and go on a date with me? It doesn’t have to be anything special, unless you want it to. We can just go for a ride or I could take you out to eat. Anything you want,” Benny looks at you with hope written all over his face. 

A grin slowly made its way across your face as you took in Benny. Is he nervous?

“I mean, I can’t really say no because we see each other all the time at the bar anyways,” you joke, causing Benny to let out a chuckle.

“Is that a yes then?” he asks.

“Yes,” you confirm. Benny nods, satisfied with your answer.

“I guess I should probably go — you’re cold, and I’m pretty sure your mother has been looking out the window this whole time,” Benny smirks.

Your mouth drops as you whip your head around just in time to see someone move away from the window on the second floor. There’s no doubt you’ll be flooded with a ton of questions later.

You turn back around when you hear Benny’s engine start back up.

“I’ll see you soon, Rainbow,” Benny shoots you a win, stealing the nickname Brucie had given you.  

“That’s not my name!” you shout after him, and he just gives you a quick glance back before continuing down the road.

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[revelboo]

Revel, this is very important (Atleast to us-). Me and my friend have both been reading Everything is Alright and we both agree on something, we were hoping that you could make Starscream a Girl dad, and make the first sparkling a girl. Only if you want to though and don't have any plans, we'd be alright if you don't do this too. We both really love and enjoy your writing, and check everyday for new updates from you. <3 Also, considering this is a request, If you don't mind and it isn't too pressuring, could we please have updates on the Brainstorm and Chromedome/Rewind fics?

Sure! I didn’t have a plan yet for Star’s kid so that works. I’ll try to update Chromedome/Rewind, Tailgate/Cyclonus, Sunder, Brainstorm, and Metroplex if I can today

Everything Is Alright Pt 123

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “If I was in charge, we’d have conquered this miserable mudball already and crushed the Autobots,” Starscream says, lip curling and you freeze. “The Constructicons already have a refinery going, mining is in full swing. But we’d be much further ahead if you hadn’t let those disgusting Insecticons just scurry away. I’ve said that those little savages need to outfitted with mode locks and tracking implants they can’t just remove themselves.” You’ve heard Star’s side of the war. That they were fighting for freedom and to overthrow a corrupt senate, but this is the first time he’s mentioned conquering your world and it leaves you cold inside. Because was that his intention all along? Whispering to you at night whole knowing he was going to destroy everything and not even caring?

• “What do you mean about conquering Earth?” You ask and Soundwave tenses as your emotions begin to build. Glares at Starscream to stop, but the Seeker is on a roll, secure in the knowledge that Megatron can’t hurt him too badly now. Not looking at you to realize you’re upset. ‘The only value in this world is the energon Shockwave seeded millennia ago,’ Starscream says. “The only value? This is my world. My home.” And you’re shrugging off Soundwave’s hand to face the Seeker, little hands balled into fists. Furious and he’s never seen you angry like this before. “What do you to do to worlds you’ve conquered?”

• Rant faltering at the edge in your voice, Starscream sees Megatron smirk and realizes he’s just made a mistake. Wings dropping, he turns back to you and forces a smile. “Nothing to worry yourself over, little one. Our home is Cybertron. Yours now, too.” And your eyes narrow, looking from him to the other two and back as your face reddens and your chin lifts. Why are you so upset? You’ll love Cybertron. You’ll be with him and your sparkling.

• “I asked what you do to the worlds you conquer,” you repeat. “What’s left after you’re done? Is anything left?” Hates that the upset edge in your voice bothers him and knows it’s the bond pulling him to you, urging him to soothe you, but Megatron has no intention of interfering. Enjoying watching the SIC struggling for words, wings flicking as he finally catches on that he’s screwed up. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, tossing your hands up and striding away, though there’s nowhere you can really go trapped on the berth. Watches Soundwave drift after you, touching your arm and getting his hand slapped. And Starscream is glaring at him like this is all his fault.

• “Typically,” Megatron growls and you turn to glare at him, unsettled by his lazy smile. “Worlds our war spills onto don’t survive.” Breath catching, you wish he was mass displaced so you could slap him. Actually right now, you want to slap all three of them. There has to be a way to keep your idiots from razing your home to ash with their stupid war. They’re bigger and stronger than you, but they need you don’t they? You’d gotten the impression from Star that fully bonding takes ‘til death do us part to the most literal extent. Which means you’ve got leverage to get your way, even if it’s absolutely awful to even consider holding your life over their heads by threatening yourself just to try and get them to behave.. “Though, I might be convinced to spare this world. With the proper motivation.”

• And he can feel the shift in your emotions, the cold calculation. Doesn’t like it one bit, either. Scheming and manipulation isn’t your strength. Curling his arms around you and tugging you back into him when you try to shrug him off, Soundwave tries to pin down exactly what you’re thinking, but as always your mind is too chaotic for him. But he can’t help but be worried. He’d played kingmaker for Megatron, started playing the same game for you, positioning you so you’re safest, but if you’re also playing? It complicates things. Needs to fully bond you as soon as possible so he can better protect you, be able to get a better grasp on your thoughts. Except. There’s the problem of your lifespan. If it was only his life, he’d take it, claim you, but his cassettes need him. Depend on him. And so do you. For the first time he can remember, his path forward isn’t clear to him. What he wants and needs at odds with reason.

Previous

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[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 25

this time, jack was not going to let you escape.

he was not going to fall asleep before you, and he was not going to wake up the next morning, pained to find your spot in the bed empty yet again.

jack's acting skills were put to the test, because he had a plan. pretend to be tired all evening, blame it all on the unusually rigorous training schedule, pretend to fall asleep just minutes after settling in bed.

when you noticed his steady breathing and the way his arms grew limp around your form, it was your sign to retreat. sneakily as ever, you slipped out of his grasp, careful not to make a single sound. but right when you reached down to pick up your bra from the floor, jack's eyelids fluttered open. as if you were a deer caught in headlights, your body froze and your eyes widened, but he spoke up before you had the chance to explain yourself.

"the spell doesn't break at midnight, cinderella," he joked, a sleepy grin slapped onto his face. you hastily pulled on the bra, stepping into your panties. "you're more than welcome to spend the night, you know."

you let out a little chuckle, draping your white linen shirt across your shoulders and beginning to button it up. "thank you, but i can't."

"is there any day you can?" he sat up slightly, leaning onto one elbow as he watched you put on your skirt.

"i'm not sure…" you shot a glance towards the full-body mirror on the wall to make sure your skirt was straight, trying to sound distracted as an excuse for your poor answer.

once you turned back to him, he held his hand out towards you, and you stepped forward to take it in yours. "check your calendar for me, will you?"

you nodded, before leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips. "text me."

when you stepped out of the apartment, your heart ached in a way it usually didn't when you left him like this; your mind was clouded with conflicted feelings. on one hand, you weren't sure if you could allow yourself to go wherever this was headed. on the other hand, jack was special. he remembered every single detail about you, from how you liked your coffee to what rings you wore each time he met you; he loved holding your hand on the dinner table and therefore loved taking you out to asian restaurants so you'd only use one hand for your chopsticks; he texted you at any and all hours of the day, not at all worried that you'd find him obsessive. he gave you new experiences, he made you feel again.

bit by bit, he was healing you.

[cherry-pop-elf]

What Kissing The Weasley Siblings Feels Like

Warnings: Fluff, Sensual, a little risky, no smut, graphic descriptions of lips and smoochies. 16+? Think that works

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

Given half his face is missing he doesn’t really like giving kisses. It’s awkward, and strange. To only have half your mouth. How his lips are never able to be soft, or how there is so much teeth. Despite it, you would always kiss the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be kissed, and that is simply that. You find a way, and doing so warms his soul. One day, he finally gets brave enough to return a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s strange, but his intent is all that matters. He was horribly anxious, but followed through. Besides. A little tongue makes it more fun anyway. Whenever the full moon gets closer, you expect getting nothing but tongue and teeth anyway. What’s some more?

Charlie

Warm. They are always so warm, and chapped from the heat. He works with dragons all day, and you can always taste the ash on his breath. He’s a passionate man. He is so intense. Every kiss is like being swallowed whole by the embers of the very dragons he has tamed. He’s so passionate. A man that would lift you off your feet, and have you arched in his strong hands. As if he is trying to consume you, and lick your skin like an angry fire. He is a man that knows what he wants. What he wants is to make sure you know he loves you. He wants you so very bad

Percy

He’s always been quite the prim and proper type. His kisses tend to be quick, short, and almost sharp. Like a peck to the cheek. He has just always had trouble showing affection, but you knew that when you signed up with him. So it wasn’t like he manipulated you into thinking one thing over the other. Regardless, he does try. When his lips do find yours, they are nice. His lips are honestly softer than you expect. He always did take good care of himself after all. They never last to long, but you enjoy them while you can. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone, and you are proud of him for doing such. That’s what matters, after all. You’ll get more. You know you will.

Fred

He’s an intense fella. He likes to plaster you in little kisses, before becoming a living cartoon and dipping you into a passionate embrace. He loves to use kisses to fluster your soul, and be playful in soaking you in little ones. You swear every time you meet he makes sure to leave a kiss on you somewhere. His lips are warm, and a bit chapped. He works with fire works all day, kinda a given. Always the taste of ash on his tongue, but you are fine with it. You just adore how he’s always excited to give you kisses. Each other so alive. He’s just in love. What can he say?

George

Similar to his twin, but still his own person entirely. He’s a bit more emotional. He likes to let kiss be a bit gentler, and lets them last longer. He would trail soft kisses from your cheek, ghost your lips, and go to the next cheek. Then slap a long passionate one, right on your lips. He likes showing his emotions through his lips. Short kisses of excitement, long kisses of need, ghosting to tease. He loves to make use of his mouth, what can he say? He does more than talk your ear off about his latest invention. Mans knows how to work those lips to his advantage. In all the right places.

Ron

He’s an awkward guy. His kisses are either shy, or way too much mouth. You kinda have to teach him. As if either of you complain. He’s just a little dork. YOUR dork. Once he gets his footing, he’s enjoying himself. He still uses more mouth than lips, but you’ve grown to rather love it. How he’s just starving to have you. Even if you were gone just a few minutes. How he utterly craves your touch. It’s addictive. You’ve grown to adore those sloppy kisses he has to offer. They are HIS kisses after all. It makes him all the more special. He’s your dorky guy. All yours, and all his kisses belong to you. So hungry, and devouring.

Ginny

She’s a professional Quidditch player. Do not expect her lips not to be cracked, bloody, dry, what have you. Doesn’t mean her kisses are any less adored. She’s one for quick pecks, as she’s always running off somewhere to do something. You are in love with a Jock. A Weasley Jock no less. Regardless, she knows how to kiss. She knows that sometimes you deserve longer smooches. She does, however, enjoy cheek kisses. She loves giving cheek kisses. Platonic, romantic, she’s a cheek kisser. She will hug you tight, and plant multiple cheek kisses all over you, when she’s really excited. She’s the child of six older brothers. She’s a bit aggressive, but that’s what made you fall in love with her. Ain’t that right?

[sweets3rial]

bubbles and cuddles

inspired by this request

id!leon x fem!reader

summary: you haven't seen your boyfriend in a while though luckily, after a long mission and an even longer day, you arrive home just in time. you spend the rest of the night loving on each other gently before falling asleep in each others arms.

tags: tooth-rotting fluff, domestic fluff, so smut, smutty innuendos, canon universe, lots of kissing, bubble bath, bathing each other, little to no dialogue, reader works at bsaa and leon works at dso, undressing each other, mentions of violence and injuries, infinite darkness or death island leon in mind

word count: 3.8k

your radio was blasting the loudest music to keep you in high spirits and also to keep your eyes from shutting. you exited the freeway and tears were pricking at your eyes from holding them open for so long. you just needed to get home. you needed to.

your whole body was sore. you could barely lift your arm without wincing in pain. the bruise on your shoulder was only getting worse.

it’s funny how the body works. on the field, you couldn’t feel any pain. a sting here and there but most of the time you were able to fight through it. but the minute you stepped off the field, it was like every bone in your body had been reduced to dust.

the adrenaline was no longer running and your brain could finally rest, leaving your body in shambles.

the nurses said there was nothing wrong. A dislocated shoulder that they popped right back in was all they needed to do, now your shoulder is swollen, your blood busy on healing that certain area which left you light-headed and extremely exhausted.

it was rare that you and your boyfriend were put on the field at the same time. though, he works in a different division under the government. his job was similar to yours, keep the bioterrorists from spreading, investigate the area, eliminate anything infected, and report back to the higher-ups what you found in extreme detail.

you haven’t had time to sit down and spend a full night with your boyfriend in over a month. it was like the minute one of you got home the other had to leave, whether it was for a meeting, a mission, or just to be in the office as backup.

it was a constant cycle. you went home to sleep and awoke to go to work. it was on the clockwork. the minute you got a call, there was no ‘five more minutes’ or ‘i’ll just call out’. you had to get up and go or else lives would be lost.

it’s a cruel world you lived in, one that many many people weren’t aware of.

you smelt of blood, shit, and piss. your hair was oily and frizzy, it hurt to breathe, you could still taste the ash in your mouth, and gunpowder had made its way underneath your nails.

you couldn’t wait to get home; to your bed, to food, to safety, to peace. you couldn’t wait to get home to your boyfriend, the love of your life.

you couldn’t wait to cuddle into his warm arms and press your skin against his. he was your home, your escape from all the piss and shit in the world. he was your comfort, his embrace was like a barrier to you and the only person who protected you when you weren’t protecting yourself.

you could let your guard down around him. you could sink into him and cry, you could cry and sob in his arms and all he did was comfort you.

Leon was everything you wanted in a man, not only is he the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on, but he was also such a great partner. he is caring and sweet, he’s structured, intuitive, and organized, he’s dedicated to his work and getting the job done and well he has humor.

he’s a bit sarcastic and cocky at times but all it does is make you laugh.

he’s intelligent, coordinated, and a great observer.

you truly believe you fell in love with him because of how he is on the field. the one time you two coincidentally ended up on the same terrain at the same time and when you truly got to see him at his full potential is when you knew you were falling for your coworker, basically.

he was quick. his eyes constantly moving, taking hints and notes of every movement around him. he was able to observe and analyze, which is why you couldn’t hide anything from him.

he knew what was wrong with you from one glance. he could read you like a book. he could see the pain, the sadness, the hurt. it got even worse as your relationship grew.

he took note of your behaviors and your words, what you did and said when you were upset. even the tone of your voice. you couldn’t lie to him, you were forced to communicate with him because he wouldn’t leave you alone until you told him what was wrong.

that’s why you love him. there were so many other reasons. you could go on a tangent as to how and why you fell in love with the D.S.O’s golden boy.

you turned the radio down as you pulled into your neighborhood, your fingertips itching to reach home.

it was late and quiet. the sky was clear and deep indigo color, letting the stars gleam to their full potential. the moon was full and you could see every crater from where you sat in the driver's seat.

the streets were lit up with the moonlight, a blue hue casting down onto the sidewalk and the roofs of the houses.

no one was awake, not even the stray cats, it was still and silent.

as soon as you pulled into your driveway, you could care less about how you parked and whether the car alarm was on or not. you stumbled out of your car heels in hand and made your way towards your door.

to your luck, just a few steps, the sound of a puttering motor was heard down the street. you knew that sound anywhere. who else would be zooming down the street loudly this late at night?

you couldn’t help the smile that arose on your cheeks as you turned to see your boyfriend just turning onto your block.

of course, he had no helmet on. even after telling him multiple times to wear one. he always shrugged it off and said he was fine. though you were always worried, there’s been many many times that he’s crashed and destroyed his previous bikes.

you were scared that one day it’ll be his head next.

his deep brown hair was whipping in the wind, his eyebrows furrowed to keep himself from falling asleep and he was gripping the handlebars with pure impatience. he needed to get home.

once he caught eye of your car and then your figure standing in the dark cold night, he couldn’t help but go faster. the sight of you eased every muscle in his body.

he needed to get to you and make sure you were okay. he was glad to see you standing on your two feet, home, and safe.

though you were wearing a thin white button-up, the sleeves rolled up and some buttons undone. in this shirt, you could move easily in and even though he loved the way it clung to your figure, he also wished you wore something warmer.

he’s told you many times to wear something thicker that way you didn’t come home sick. but you insisted on wearing something that gave you easy mobility.

guess you’re both stubborn.

there you were, standing with a hazy smile on your lips, holding your shoulder and slowly dragging yourself towards the end of the driveway to meet him.

he carefully pulled into the driveway and next to you. his heart filled with warmth as he got a faint whiff of your perfume. he put his kickstand down as he put a stop to the engine.

he couldn’t wait to hold you and kiss you. he could tell from the look on your face and the way you were carrying yourself, you were exhausted.

your body practically slumped into his and a heavy sigh left your lips. he ran his hand up and down your back and lifted you onto his lap, being weary of your legs making sure they wouldn’t burn on the pipes.

you wrapped your arms around him and went weak in his embrace. god, you needed this. you missed being held by him.

he guided your legs around his waist, rubbing his gloved palm up and down the skin of your thigh soothingly. no words needed to be exchanged as he lifted both of you up and off the motorcycle and over towards the front door.

you were glued to him, holding him tightly as he carried you up the porch steps. you nuzzled yourself further into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath of his cologne. it was such a comforting smell.

warm cedarwood, fresh pine, and hints of sweet vanilla. his shampoo smelt fresh like mint along with the scent of his gel and sweat.

one arm held you close to him while the other worked on getting the door open once he stepped inside, you hauled yourself onto him and the tip of your toes. you kept your hands on his shoulders, roughly massaging his tense muscles, ignoring your pain, and looking into his eyes.

bloodshot and glossy with heavy bags. he melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut and a sigh leaving his lips. both of you had a long long day.

there were no words that needed to be exchanged, you walked backward as he walked towards you. your hands went from his shoulders to his zipper. slowly undoing his leather jacket until you could see his plain navy blue t-shirt underneath.

he shrugged his jacket off letting it fall at his feet. as you took a step backward onto the stairs, he wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him.

he nuzzled his face into your chest, placing soft kisses on your skin. his hands traveled up and down your back, feeling at your figure. your shoulder blades, your spinal groove, the curve of your ass. he just wanted to feel you.

he caught the way you winced as he squeezed you closer to him and he loosened his hold on you.

no one knows how much he missed you, how much he missed holding you, and the feel of your skin against his. he was glad he got home when did, if not, you would probably already be asleep.

he looked up at you, his chin buried in your cleavage. you brought your nose to his, nuzzling them together and sucking in a deep breath from your nose. god, you missed him.

you brought your lips to his in a deep and passionate kiss, spilling all the words in your heart to him, all the lonely late night and all the bad days, all the words you never got to say while he was gone, and all the words you wished to say.

his hands traveled from your back, around to your stomach, and up toward the buttons of your shirt. he slowly began unbuttoning each one, he wasn’t in any rush and he wasn’t undressing you out of lust, he just wanted to feel you.

he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, begging you to pry your mouth open so he could taste you. your legs went weak at the feeling of his warm tongue against yours and his hands slowly peeling your shirt off of your skin.

he threw it somewhere onto the steps, keeping his mouth on yours as he took a step forwards which further urged you to continue up the stairs.

you two slowly undressed each other as you made your way to the bathroom, neither of you daring to pull away from your kiss.

by the time you two got to the bathroom, he was left in his boxers and you were left in your underwear. your arms were wrapped around him, your body pressing closer and closer to his. he was all yours tonight, there were no missions or meetings or phone calls.

it was just you and him.

you turned around briefly, leaving his lips with a wet smack, bending over into the bathtub, and then turning the faucet on. the sound of water pouring into the bath drowned out the sound of heavy pants.

you shut the drain and reached for the jasmine bubble mixture sitting on the side of the tub. meanwhile, he was busy walking up behind you and rubbing up and down your sides. you stood up straight, leaning into his touch as you poured bubbles into the warm water.

he brought his head down onto your shoulder, kissing your bruised skin before slowly making his way up your neck and to your ear. his arms wrapped around you once again, pulling your back closer to his chest.

“missed you,” he whispered into your ear, playing with the hem of your panties.

“i missed you more,” you sighed out blissfully as you turned around to face him.

in a split second, your lips were on his again, teeth clashing and tongues morphing together. he worked you out of your panties as you worked him out of his boxers. his hands found their way under the purchase of your ass, giving your cheek a nice slap — prompting you to jump.

so you did, wrapping your legs around his torso and locking your ankles together. he stepped into the tub, the bubbles tickling his skin and the warm water soothing his sore muscles.

he slowly sat down in the water, more focused on keeping up with your pace. he could tell how much you missed him, you were kissing him without pulling away for a breath and you were clinging onto him like a koala would do with its mother.

your bodies were slowly succumbed by the soapy water, the smell of jasmine in the air, and the sound of smacking lips echoing off the walls. his hands traveled up your back, one hand working on splashing your back with water, rubbing the soap into your skin, and massaging your spine. the other hand worked on holding the back of your neck, keeping your lips pressed to his.

your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp which earned you a satisfied moan. he pulled away briefly, throwing his head back and against the back of the tub.

you lifted yourself off of his lap and turned around to shut off the water. the water shut off with a squeak, a few stray drops escaping into the heap of bubbles and then there was silence. you leaned back against his chest, the water and bubbles covering your chest and ticking your chin.

he let his heavy arms come over your unwounded shoulder, his hands searching for yours in the water and eventually he found them. slowly gathering each of your fingers and intertwining them with yours.

you leaned your head back against his chest, shutting your eyes and letting out a sigh. you could hear the water sploosh and splash as he reached over for the washcloth at his side. he dipped it into the water, soaking it with the soapy water before lifting your arm.

he brought the warm cloth to your arm, continuing to place kisses on your shoulder and he washed your skin. he gently lathered the soap into your skin, even if he was exhausted he was never tired to help you.

he continued to lather your body, wiping away at the sweat and grime, kissing at the cuts, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. his breath was hot and heavy, his words were like lullabies and his voice was like a drug.

you sank further into him, close to passing out until you remembered you needed to wash him too. you reached for a spare cloth, copying his actions and dipping it into the water. you turned to face him, straddling his lap and sitting on his thighs.

you placed a lazy kiss onto his lips bringing the cloth to his neck. you lathered at his shoulders while he lathered your back. your bodies stayed pressed together, not a single inch of space between you two.

he pressed kisses to your collarbone, not wanting to leave your embrace for a second, his body chased yours when you leaned away, his lips stayed on your skin and his eyes glued to yours.

it was moments like this you treasured the most. skin to skin and nothing but love. slow tender touches and silence. you two could be comfortable with each other without saying a word, every touch and every kiss spoke for itself.

the water had slowly become less warm, now murky from the dirt and grime that had stuck to your skin. he reached for the drain, unplugging it and letting the murky water drain.

both of you stood up at the same time, supporting each other as you stood to your feet. Leon turned on the faucet and switched the water to the shower head. you loved baths but everyone knew marinating in your bath water wasn’t ideally hygienic.

so, for the next twenty minutes you and Leon sat under the running water and at this point, the weariness was getting to you both. your eyelids felt heavy and your body was ready to shut down. a yawn left your lips and you leaned your head against Leon's chest.

“sleepy?”

you replied with a nod and he hummed, nuzzling his nose into your wet scalp and placing a kiss at your hairline. he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other reached to the faucet. he turned it off with a loud squeak.

silence filled the room, and only the stray droplets of water were heard. steam gathered at the roof, heavy with the scent of jasmine and citrus. you stepped out of the shower, your boyfriend not too far behind. he reached for your towel, fluffing it out in his hands before turning to you.

your arms were crossed over your chest, your teeth clattering and your shoulders bouncing up and down. he chuckled a bit, he found it cute.

he pressed the towel to your cheeks, squishing them together and intently puckering your lips for him to bend down and place a warm kiss on your lips. he continued drying you off, pressing the warm towel into your body until your skin was completely dry.

he scrunched at the ends of your hair, catching any stray droplets that fell onto your skin. meanwhile, he was pressing kisses to your face.

on your eyelids and brows, to the cold tip of your nose, to your soft cheeks, your chin, and the tips of your ears. he treasured every inch of you and his lips on your skin only lulled you deeper into a daze. you wanted to sleep so bad.

but you couldn’t leave him wet and cold. you reached for another spare towel, doing the same, squishing his cheeks and bringing your lips to his. he couldn’t help but smile against your lips, wrapping the towel around your neck and tugging you closer.

his lips moved against yours in perfect sync, he knew what you liked - a slow and passionate pace. he sucked at your tongue, moaning at your minty taste. he had you backed up into the wall, hands at your hips pressing you closer against his half-hard cock.

his lips left your tongue and then his teeth went to pull at your bottom lip. he knew exactly how to get you riled up. if you weren’t so tired, you would’ve fucked him so so long ago.

“let’s get you to bed, hun.” he hummed, you nodded in agreement, wrapping the towel over his wet hair like a hoodie and tugging at each side to pull him back towards your lips. you left a quick kiss on his lips before turning to leave the bathroom.

your bed was the same way as you left it. undone with blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. you didn’t care to get dressed, you needed to sleep naked, damp and all.

you slid into bed, your limbs completely giving out on trying to carry your weight. Leon watched you slump into bed, he wasn’t so far behind. he crawled in after you, chasing the warmth of your body.

you both got situated under the covers, rubbing each other's legs against one another - his hairy ones and your smooth ones. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the feeling. your bed was warm and soft and his arm draped over your side was heavy and secure.

you were at home. this is what you missed the most. him. even if you were sleeping on the cold streets as long as you had Leon, it was home.

home for you was wherever he was.

you nuzzled yourself into his chest, moaning comfortably as you entangled your legs further with his. your left thigh onto top of his and then your right on top of his other. he held the back of your head securely against his chest, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers.

you shivered, it was that feeling when you were so comfortable and so soothed to the point you just quivered. a small laugh erupted from his chest and then his lips found your forehead.

“get some rest, hun,” he whispered to you deeply. his command for you to fall asleep was like a switch. your body felt heavier as if it was sinking into the mattress, you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. your body was slowly succumbing into a deep sleep.

Leon waited for your heavy breaths to begin, he continued massaging your scalp and peppering kisses onto your skin. he wanted to wait to fall asleep, he finally has you in his arms after a very very long week. he isn’t going to waste a second.

he took a moment to admire your sleeping state, cheek squished against his bicep, damp hair splayed out onto the pillow above you, and lips agape. you sucked in deep heavy breaths, your chest pressing against his with every inhale, then falling with a light snore.

he tucked some of your hair behind your ear, away from sticking to your cheek. he ran his thumb over your eyebrow then over your lashes, careful not to bother your sleep. though, he was sure if the house collapsed you wouldn’t even budge.

your eyelids fluttered at his touch, your lashes tickling your cheek as you did so. he placed one last final kiss on your nose before turning away to yawn.

he rested his head back down against the pillow, further nuzzling himself against your naked body.

his limbs were becoming heavy. his eyes fluttering shut and the last thing he saw before he fell asleep was you.

the beautiful face that he would later wake up to. though for now, he’ll dream of you and what the future holds for you two. he’ll dream of a happy life with you away from the city, a dog or cat, children, and the weight of a ring on both of your fingers.

he’ll dream of your warm smile and your voice, your touch and your love. he’ll dream and dream until he has to wake up to reality. but at least that reality was with you by his side.

(divder cred to @saradika,, pics from pinterest)

[the-artist-grimm]

Brainworm won't leave me, about angst of your Narilamb but on the other side of the coin.

So Imma just write about it even if I should be sleeping right now. Do what you wish.

Fate is irreversible. The Lamb would die a sacrifice, even the God of Death couldn't prevent it. Sure they had delayed it; allowed the Lamb to show the Bishop of Old that their fate was already written. But with it done, there's nothing stopping fate to strike once more.

The Lamb could feel it in the air, in the bones. Perhaps the crown had allowed them to feel the presence of an end. And theirs was soon to arrive.

Perhaps Narinder still had hope, that their weapon could return after their sacrifice. That the Lamb could be kept by his side and that of his kits. Yet the Lamb knew better than to rely on only hope.

The Lamb's heart was full, of love for who is now considered family to them. For Narinder, Aym and Baal. And for them, The Lamb would do it. Sacrificing their life for their freedom. For the kits to finally see the world the Lamb has told them so much about. For Narinder to feel the rain against their fur once more.

With a resolve of steel, the Lamb is ready, in an outfit they've carefully curated for their last moment. Perhaps it is full of old memories; inspired by any remaining traditions of the sheepfolk who will soon vanish with the Lamb. Maybe something akin to marriage; as they have accepted that they would never see the day of their own and that the freedom of their loves should be the happiest day of their life.

With a sad smile, the Lamb dedicate their death to the three person who fills their heart with love. Ripping it from their chest and crushing it; letting the large amount of devotion they had for their God, and the Red Crown, float back to its rightful owner. The Lamb swore they heard the screams of Aym and Baal, calling for the first time their Baba. They could feel a pang tug and their heart, even if no longer in their chest; never knowing before how much they longed for the both of them to see the Lamb like a parent.

Their weapon discarded, both kits rushed to the Lamb's side, begging, pleading for them to not leave; grasping at the Lamb's ever colder body.

Maybe in a moment of clarity, The One Who Waits sheds their gargantuan form for that of a more reasonable one. They are silent, whirlwind of thoughts and emotions flying through their head yet they chose to ignore most; going straight for the Lamb. Tears already flowing unbeknownst to him. Maybe they were the Crown's.

It's kinda funny, the Lamb never thought they would had been able to hold Narinder in their arms fully; yet even in this form he is as beautiful as the day they first met him. The Lamb smile softly at him, barely hearing him talk about promises to bring them back, cursing himself for his greed and his stubbornness, that he shouldn't had ignored his feelings when really the only thing he now desired was fading infront of him.

Maybe, just maybe, the Lamb can reach for a goodbye kiss. Not the one they had dreamed of, but it was their last chance before vanishing into the same ashes that covers the entirety of Narinder's realm; leaving now three black cat free, yet so cold and alone.

THIS IS AMAZING WHAT THE HECK. ALSO HOW ARE YOU IN MY HEAD (adding the angst art first in case people don't wanna read my lore dump lol)

Like Anthea WOULD have died had Narinder not let slip just how much he cared about them. He didn’t confess his love-he wasn't ready to do so just yet, but upon seeing the lamb break down in the ruins of their home village shortly before they'd started on Silk Cradle, seeing them finally let all the years of grief and anger and guilt take over and swear that no matter what they’d get him and the kits out-that while they couldn’t save their family they would save his even if that meant their death, in the ‘good’ ending sort of speak (which yeah has the betrayal but it leads both to grow and eventually be happy again), he tells them no-that freedom isn’t worth it without the lamb leaving the gateway alongside the twins and himself. He would not accept any outcome that didn't have them by his side.

Having spent their whole life giving up things for others, Narinder essentially saying he’d give up his freedom, the thing he wanted most, for them was what made the lamb want to try and have a future. Because here was someone who wanted Anthea by his side because he cared for them, and they realized they wanted that too. It's why in the good end Anthea starts weaving a courtship sash for Narinder, because while they didn't bet on his feelings being romantic, that admission was what made them realize they'd long fallen in love, and it was the one thing they could do to show just how much those words meant to them. A promise in return to be by his side as well in whatever way he'd have them. A promise to live.

Had Narinder held his tongue and not given into the impulse to say ‘no’, or had he instead told the lamb that their fate was to die, then Anthea would have laid their life down one last time. They might've realized they'd fallen in love sometime before that, but the desire to see their beloved and their children free would've outweigh the desire to be 'selfish' and want to be free with them.

5 chains bound the god they’d grown to love, and though 4 were linked to his siblings the 5th metaphysical one could only be unlocked by the sacrifice of a devout heart. It had been Shamura’s final failsafe. They knew that Narinder may be able to kill the bishops in his rage, but had counted on him never finding someone willing to sacrifice themselves like that.

But the main theme of Crimson Angel is expressing your feelings, and in the bad end, neither Anthea or Narinder learn to do so. Narinder keeps his love close to his chest, while Anthea loves the one way they know how-through sacrifice.

So yeah thank you for the fic and I shall now add it to the little metaphorical trinket box of ‘fanart/gifts to look at in awe'

[nanamiskentos]

best friend!gojo who... 💬 ☁️ fluff, angst, unresolved

FULL FIC HERE <3

— best friend!gojo who you've known ever since you were children. from the promises that little kids make to each other when circumstances force them to be friends. after all, you were both children of two noteworthy clans, and these meetings tended to be so dull

— best friend!gojo who let you trail behind him when you were children. he was always more brash, bold, and eager to explore the world. you'd prefer to stay quiet, observant; with a shy expression on your face as you watched him push his way around.

— best friend!gojo who defended you against other mean children. the venom that fell from their voices could cut deeply sometimes, but they found it hard to keep pushing you when the loud gojo kid with the bright blue eyes was glaring at them and threatening to knock their teeth out.

— best friend!gojo who couldn't wait to move to the big city, away from his stifling family home, and he knew you felt the same. the one who had been so eager to leave that he had already packed his suitcase, and had urged you to do the same, leaping onto your bed with his legs crossed as he watched you agonise over what jackets you would need in tokyo

— best friend!gojo who didn't say anything, but only watched glumly as your eyes lit up when you first saw suguru geto for the first time, another first year who would study and train alongside you two. he liked suguru too, but did you really have to blush and twirl your hair whenever the tall boy was near?

— best friend!gojo who decided to buy an olympus camera (all the rage in 2006) and drag you, and the whole group of friends, around tokyo, snapping photos of everyone near the famous landmarks. there's a photo of you standing in shibuya, looking so happy as you look at your best friend laughing behind the camera. he kept that photo in his wallet. and how could you not have smiled when a beautiful boy with white hair grinned at you, without a care in the world?

— best friend!gojo who's smile faded for a short while after he came back from a mission one day. suguru had told you about what had happened with the sorcerer-killer, how gojo had truly died but you could only stare at how over the next few weeks, he seemed to rise from the ashes stronger than ever. if only you had noticed what your raven-haired friend was going through as well

— best friend!gojo who's struck to his core when geto leaves, and he wonders how he will ever see the light again. but your hand is on his shoulder and he has you, at the least. he doesn't know what he would do if he ever lost you.

— best friend!gojo who you continue to grow up with, becoming teachers and mentors at your alma mater. gojo, who always runs back to you after a mission or a fight, desserts already swinging in a paper bag that he's balancing in his arms.

— best friend!gojo who looks up from his phone, one halloween evening, and tells you that he's been called to shibuya apparently. you've been called too, but you're positioned on the other side of the curtain. he tells you to stay safe and he'll see you soon.

— best friend!gojo who's been sealed by geto?! (no, not suguru, it could never be) and you think your hair will turn as white as his, just from the stress. gojo who never leaves your mind during the culling games, as you fight for your very life, and for the students that you've grown to care about and love.

— best friend!gojo who tackles you in a hug when he's been unsealed, and makes some smarmy joke about how he's going to kick sukana's ass so far back, right into the heian era. but when he turns back to the wall, his eyes are dull, while his smile is bright, and you wonder what has permanently burned his brain.

— best friend!gojo who swaps his suits and uniform, for the loose pants and top to train in, as he laughs off any serious questions about his plan. he tells you not to fret, and this won't be so bad. after all, didn't he once tell yuji that even if sukuna was at his full power, gojo would still win? exactly, remember that.

— best friend!gojo who laughs, and winks at you before leaving for the showdown. everyone has wished him luck, told him to grind sukuna down to the very dust of the earth, but you just can't let go out of the tight grasp that your arms have around his neck, and his arms are equally as tight as they clasp around your torso. there's something quieter, more worried and fractured in his eyes, but you press your lips to his cheek quickly, and tell him to come back. he tells you that of course he will, doesn't he always?

— best friend!gojo who's body now lays in four pieces on shoko's table. his skin has gone cold, his blue eyes have faded and rusted away, and dried blood flecks over his dry lips. sukuna cut him at the waist, didn't give him a chance to blink or breathe. didn't he say that he would always come back? why didn't you tell him that you loved him before?

[drabblesandimagines]

I absolutely love how you write Halsin, can I request a fic with a fem Tav having a nightmare sometime after Orin's kidnapping. The possession scene still haunts me to this day and keep imagining Tav seeing that over n over on top of struggling to rescue him. It ends with him waking and comforting her. Keep up the great work!

Thank you, lovely anon! I hope you enjoy - please let me know! xxx

Nightmares

Your limbs feel heavy, vision somewhat blurred around the edges as you walk past strangely empty tents in the camp on the outskirts of Rivington.

There’s an overpowering smell of rust in the air as you approach the barn, the dirt soon growing damp under your boots and it isn’t long before a squelch accompanies every step.

A sinking feeling in your stomach as a large figure emerged from the shadows.

Halsin – your sweet, caring druid - looms over the lifeless bodies of Gale, Astarion and Shadowheart. They’re splayed out almost atop of one another, arms and legs at unnatural angles, gruesome tears in their flesh, the straw sodden with red that matches the splatters across Halsin’s bare chest.

“What…?”

“Go,” Halsin growls between gritted teeth. There’s a look in his eye you haven’t seen before, his muscles shuddering with exertion as he tries to catch his breath. “Go - now - before I do the same to you.”

“No.” You shake your head, furiously, as if it might change the scene. “This isn’t real. it can’t be. You wouldn’t, Halsin-”

“It’s this city,” he grunts, thumping his chest with his fist as he glares at you. “The corruption, I cannot hold it back any longer. Why did you bring me here? I said-“

His eyes flash gold for a split second before the light engulfs his entire body – fur swiftly taking its place as he transforms and emits a mighty roar.

You take a step back in retreat and immediately trip over something – an arm or a leg – falling and knocking the back of your head upon stone. Above is no longer the ceiling of the drafty barn but what appears to an endless chasm. You sit up, scrambling back on your hands, heart pounding as you recognize your surroundings.

The Temple of Bhaal.

Halsin lies on the altar, his knuckles grazing the floor as his arm hangs off the side. You stumble up to your feet without further thought, not even checking for any Bhaal cultists or Orin herself, only focused on reaching him.

His eyes, once so full of warmth and love, stare blankly skyward - lifeless and bloodshot.

You’re too late.

There’s a scroll clenched in the fist resting upon his still chest. You tug it out with gentle fingers and unfurl it, only for to burn into ash immediately, only allowing you a glimpse of what was written at the top.

Speak with the dead.

Halsin’s body is illuminated in an eerie green glow. Not the greens of nature that he so adored, but something entirely unwordly. His neck cracks as he turns his head to face you, a hollow, foreign voice emitting from his mouth.

“You did not come for me.”

“No, I did. We did. We were just-” Cold fingers encircle your wrist, keeping you in place by the altar.

“No.” He cuts across, emotionless. “You left me here to die – alone.”

“No, Halsin. No, I swear. I don’t know what happened. We were just in camp and-“

“I called out for you.” His fingers squeeze your wrist so hard you swear the bones are about to break. “I called your name over and over and over, until my voice grew hoarse.” He places his other hand at the base of your throat, fingers splayed out over your collarbones. “I called for you, the one who lay with me, claimed to love me… yet still you did not come.”

“Halsin, please, listen-”

“You killed me.” He trails his fingers up your neck, pausing to cup your chin. “And, now, with the Oak Father as my witness, I will reset the balance of nature.”

With one powerful squeeze around your throat, your breath is cut off.

--

Whilst most elves favour four or so hours of trance, Halsin has proved to be quite the heavy sleeper in comparison – most likely due to the time he has spent in his ursine form – though a whimper from your lips is enough to wake him immediately, concerned.

He releases you from his spooned embrace, laid upon the pile of furs upon the ground, in fear that he’d somehow caused you pain, perhaps squeezed a little too tight in his dreams as he sought your warmth.

The furrowed brow, twitching limbs and mumbled, somewhat frantic protests, however, suggest you are in the throes of a nightmare. The druid swears his heart breaks, knowing it is best that you wake under your own steam rather than him call or shake you.

Mercifully, he does not have to wait long. You sit bolt upright with a desperate, gasping breath, drenched in a cold sweat, eyes flitting furiously side to side as you try and work out where you are now.

Your heart is pounding dangerously loud in your ears, so much so you can’t hear how hard you’re trying to gulp down mouthfuls of air, but it’s as if it stagnates at the top of your lungs, never truly getting deep enough.

Tears burn at your eyes at the effort and Halsin cannot hold himself back any longer. He places a large hand against the small of your back, hoping his gentle touch would help ground you.

You flinch at the contact, eyes widening as you finally see him in the dim light of the tent. There is a momentary flicker of fear across your face that Halsin prays to Silvanus that he will never see again.

It’s a short, gasp of a breath in and out and the colour now drained entirely from your cheeks that drives him to act. He pulls you onto his lap in a smooth motion, pressing your back snug up against his chest, ignoring another flinch as he places a palm between your collarbones.

“Forgive me, my heart,” he bends his head to speak directly into your ear, too aware of how hard your heart is beating and wanting to be sure you’ll hear – he can feel the dull thud against his own chest. “I need you to breathe with me.”

His body feels warm. You twitch, trying to turn to face him, check his face over for injuries, feel his heart beat beneath your fingertips, but he has you nestled perfectly between his thighs, keeping you still.

“I have you, petal. I promise you are safe.” His breath dances across your neck. “Close your eyes, focus on my touch and breathe as deep as you can. Please.”

Dark spots are dancing around your vision now, so it’s easy to close your eyes. Halsin is breathing deliberately slowly - exaggerating his inhales and exhales so your body shifts with each of his breaths in the hopes that you’ll mimic the movement.

It is trial and error - more than a few resulting in short, sharp gasps and spluttering breaths – but, slowly and surely, your heart beat slows and your breaths grow more productive.

The scent of moss, wood smoke, various herbs and flowers permeate through the panic and you finally recognize where you are in – in your dwelling in the commune.

It has been four months since the fall of the Nether Brain.

You twist in his lap again, desperate to see his face, to check if his eyes are still lifeless. Halsin permits it this time and it is with a sigh of relief that you see your druid whole and alive.

“My love?” His tone is so cautious that you break into a sob.

Halsin pulls you back against his bare chest in an instant, maneuvering you into a more comfortable position with ease as you cry. He does not make to hush you, or ask you what is wrong, only rocks you back and forth in his arms, pressing periodic kisses to your crown as he does.

Even when your sobs eventually cease into teary, pathetic hiccups, he does not press for details, remaining in silence until you build up the courage to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, unsure if he has even heard.

Halsin presses a final kiss to your crown. “There is nothing to apologise for, petal.”

You look up at him, shaking your head. “No, there is. I was too late. T-the Bhaal Temple. I was too late. You-”

“You were having a nightmare. Please”, he lifts a hand to your cheek, stroking away a stray tear with his thumb, “do not torment yourself with recollection of such dark dreams. All is well – we are both safe.”

His other hand leaves your side for a moment, grabbing something you can’t see. You make to protest – it’s not safe, it’ll never be safe, Bhaal still exists, what if it was a message, or a threat? – but it dies on your tongue as he holds up a small bouquet of dried flowers under your nose, the scent calming you almost instantly.

“Humour me a moment, do you recognize the scents?”

“Mm-hm.” You take them from his hand, twirling them between your thumb and forefinger. “Lavender, roses, daisies…”

“Very good. I feared I had been somewhat distracting during our lessons.”

Lessons – that coaxes a soft, breathy laugh from you. Long, leisurely walks around the lands surrounding the commune, all with the intention of Halsin imparting his knowledge of the natural world had often turned into anything but.

Of course, he had always started off with pure intentions, he’d even keep his hands behind his back in an attempt to give focus, but all that seemed to break it was you bending down to inspect a sapling, or take in the perfume of a flower he’d pointed towards and then somehow you’d find yourself pinned against a nearby trunk or tackled oh so gently down into a flower bed, hot open-mouthed kisses pressed across your throat and collarbone…

“Mm, a little. But not enough that I don’t recall what you’ve taught me,” you look down at the dried bouquet. “For I do know that these are all known for their calming properties.”

“Indeed.” He chuckles. “I find placed under the pillow works wonders for troubled sleep, as well as keeping bad dreams at bay.”

You look up at him then, brow furrowed. “You have trouble sleeping?”

“I did – not for a while now. I find that having you nestled in my arms, my heart, is more soothing than any of the Oak Father’s creations.”

You feel the warmth prickle across your cheeks – Halsin’s compliments never fail to leave you a little flustered. He chuckles again as you drop your eyes back into your lap, a tell he has come to know well during your time together. He tilts your chin back up and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep again, petal? Dawn is still a way off.”

Tomorrow will be another long day. Though the commune continues to fall into place more and more each day, there is always so much to be done.

“I can try.” You concede.

“Here,” he plucks the dried bouquet from your hand and slips it inside your pillow, giving it a firm pat to make sure it remained comfortable. “With the hopes that it makes your dreams as sweet as you are.”

Halsin coaxes you to lie down wordlessly, spooning you against his chest and draping an arm around your waist with a light squeeze.

“Comfortable?”

You inhale deeply, the bouquet of dried flowers seeping out from the pillow, the warmth of Halsin behind you, the way his hand begins to rub gently up and down your side.

“Mm.” You mumble, closing your eyes. “I love you, Halsin.”

Halsin smiles as he feels the tension leave your body fully at last – he hated seeing you in any sort of distress, whether it be minor or major.

“I love you too, my heart.” He bends his head down and starts to kiss your neck slowly and softly -  a favourite spot of both his and yours for a few moments before he retreats.

“Now, sleep, petal. Regain your energy so that I can show you precisely how much I love you in the morning, hm?”

He is unsure you have heard for sleep seems to have claimed you once more...

..but that doesn't mean he won't keep his word when dawn breaks.

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[vendetta-if]

Hi! Sorry if you've already answered this but what does each RO feel and think about MC path of either Justice or Revenge? (Heir path)

(Love to see what everyone else thinks as well)

I'm just curious to know what Rin truly thinks about MC going for revenge, because I feel like he's a bit reluctant? But also, an heir to a crime family going for justice? (Giving him over to the police after getting enough evidence to convict him) I can't really see him approve that, either.

I'm also curious of what their "preferred" heir MC is, Ruthless or Merciful, admired or feared etc.

Am definitely curious to know how that affects Ash as well. I love my little psycho MC (Definitely some Jinx vibes going on there) but then I get concerned and worried when I see Ash being like "Whoa, so cool! Never seen a body rain blood before, awesome! Whoo, murder! 🥳"

Then i'm like "Wait... No, this is bad Ash, BAD! Blood rain isn't awesome! It's horrifying! It's literally what happens in the APOCALYPSE! That's it, we're going to have a long talk when we get home about Wrong and Right!"

...then later when she gets her birthday present she'll giddily ask Luka if she can try torturing him too 😭

I feel so conflicted when Ash asks MC about what she will do with the killer... Then says what he wants, which is exactly the same, so I can't really tell him not to do the same... But it makes me so concerned every time, and guilty.

I don't want to bring my sweet, beloved firecracker down and even darker path than the one we're already on 😭

Ash and Rin prefer revenge to justice (letting the justice system do what it was supposed to do a long time ago). Probably because of the families and environment that they’re both raised and live in, they believe retaliation against such personal slight should be taken into their own hands.

However, whereas Ash’s revenge might be explosive and impulsive as they chase the quickest way to personally get their hands on the one who wronged them, Rin’s revenge is cold and calculating.

It’s full of reckoning, scheming, and pulling of strings behind the scenes and they’re content to let others to do the dirty work. They don’t really care about seeing the one who wronged them face-to-face and kill them with their own hands like Ash does.

That doesn’t make their revenge less personal though, and dare I say, sometimes, their revenge ends up being more drawn-out and torturous for the poor schmuck. The true definition of “revenge is a dish best served cold”.

And Rin does prefer Ruthless MC in the sense that they both have a more similar mindset. Of course, they’ll still love Merciful MC the same, but being with such kind MC makes them highly protective of them since they don’t want to see them get hurt or taken advantage of.

They’ll do whatever it takes to keep MC safe behind MC’s back, doing the necessary things that Merciful MC might not have the heart to do themself. Same thing with Ash as well, which is why in the Ash/MC/Rin poly, Ash and Rin will actually become really close and trusted confidantes of each other because they—almost all of the time—have the same mindset and overarching goal.

Santana and Skylar, of course, prefer justice and letting the right people dispense due punishment. Although, a more cynical Santana might not be too opposed to MC having revenge as well since they’ve seen firsthand how corrupt and sometimes incompetent the system is; they can’t really blame MC and the Morozovs to want to take matters into their own hands.

And as for your last sentence about Ash… 🥺 They’ll gladly walk with MC down a darker path. They actually feel they are already walking down that path a long time ago, especially since they accepted working as the Family’s enforcer… 😥