#I'm so happy I finally get to share the full piece!!

[britishmuffin]

Y'shtola (for the @ffladieszine)

★ patreon || website || twitter ★

[thebibliosphere]

So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)

The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."

They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?

Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.

Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)

It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:

ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."

Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.

This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:

"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."

This is what the AI changed it to:

"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."

Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"

Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?

Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the anniversary. l Joel Miller

Summary:  he forgot about a very important date for you

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex (don't do that), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, breeding kink or just talking about kids

 A/N:  somehow it came out the same way. I hope you like it. Thank you for every feedback, it means a lot to me.

The car quietly pulled into the driveway and after a moment the engine and the lights were turned off. He didn't get out right away, he just reached for the phone lying on the passenger seat and glanced at the last message Tommy had sent him.

He cursed quietly under his breath. This renovation had been causing them problems from the start and they wanted to finish it as soon as possible, but Joel's blood pressure rose every time he saw or heard that something would extend their work again. This time it was the same.

"Fuck." he hissed under his breath, resigned.

His gaze rolled over the quiet area immersed in sleep. It was already around midnight. Once again he had spent way too much time at work.

The car door slammed shut and his steps headed towards the door. The lights inside were dimmed, you had left them on just enough so he could safely move around the interior.

His gaze wandered to the couch in the living room, he was probably secretly hoping to see you there, but it was so late that he knew it was a foolish hope. You worked too, and you looked after the house and were there for Sarah while he was at work, which was... for too long lately.

His legs took him to the kitchen and the fridge, but when he opened the door he froze for a moment. There were several containers full of food on the shelves, and he definitely hadn't seen them there this morning. The cardboard box from your favourite cake shop looked completely untouched. And that bottle of champagne.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. Joel swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten and a heavy stone sinking into his stomach.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

More pieces of the puzzle started fitting together in his head. Fresh flowers in the living room, candles standing on the kitchen counter.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

When his eyes stopped at the calendar hanging on the wall he knew he had fucked everything up.

His hand went to his hair and he ruffled it wondering how angry you could be at him. Joel would probably rather you were angry because the disappointment in your eyes would kill him.

He couldn't hide in the kitchen forever though so he headed upstairs. He glanced through the ajar door to Sarah's room. Her bed was empty. That's right, for a few days you both told him that she would be staying at a friend's.

Another stone fell into his stomach.

The bedroom you shared was dark, but a small lamp was on by the bed, your silhouette was outlined under the sheets. This view was one of his favorites. You were sleeping quietly breathing.

Joel took off his shoes and shirt, throwing it towards the laundry basket. He climbed onto the bed and gently kissed your shoulder, then once again until you purred quietly.

"J-Joel?" your voice was quiet and sleepy "Is something wrong? What time is it?"

"Late. Midnight or something." he replied, resting his arms on either side of you "Baby, I'm so fucking sorry..."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands so he wouldn't see your embarrassment. You hoped that this conversation wouldn't happen, that you'd forget and go back to normal. But Joel didn't like unfinished business.

"I felt really stupid." you finally spoke up "For a moment I even wondered if I hadn't mixed up the dates. So I found the marriage certificate…"

"I messed everything up. I remembered that, at least at the beginning of the week."

"Yeah, I know. You worked a lot." your hand stroked his scratchy cheek "At least we have so much food that we don't have to cook tomorrow. And Sarah will be really happy about the cake I bought."

"That's not fair. You worked too, and then you came home, did all these things, and remembered our anniversary."

"Multitasking."

"I told you, you're better than Wonder Woman." you giggled, and that brought him relief "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am. I fucked it all up."

"You fucked up." You nodded, but your smile softened it "But we can still do something about it."

"Yeah?"

A sly smile appeared on his lips as your body settled beneath him. Your hands slid gently over his chest to his soft belly where your nails scratched it pleasantly.

He leaned down and his lips brushed yours, nibbling gently before his warm tongue slipped inside, caressing you pleasantly. A quiet groan escaped your throat.

You couldn't remember the last time Joel kissed you like that. The last few weeks had been quite hard, his late homecomings didn't make anything easier. In the evenings, you both fell into bed and before anything could happen, you fell asleep deeply.

Now, you had time and the house just for yourselves.

"Joel?" you murmured quietly as his lips moved to your neck. "Maybe you're tired, huh? I don't want you to be unconscious at work tomorrow."

A single movement of his hips and the large bulge hidden in his jeans rubbing against your thigh was a clear answer. He kissed your lips again and then sat up, removing the sheets from you.

"Oh, baby..." he sighed seeing that you were only wearing his shirt and panties "Even if I was on my deathbed I would ask for the opportunity to eat you out."

"God! Miller!" you laughed "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't understand." his large hands slid down your thighs squeezing them lightly "It's such a man thing."

His fingers reached for the hem of your panties and he slid them down without much trouble. He spread your thighs apart and you felt the heat flooding your neck. You were totally exposed to him, but Joel always made you feel totally sexy and desired even in a situation like this.

He settled himself between your thighs giving them a few kisses and squeezes. It was like a final countdown to what was about to happen. One, slow lick and the air left your lungs.

"So pretty." Joel mumbled and you bit your lip "I'm a lucky bastard."

You didn't have a chance to respond as his mouth closed over your heat. His tongue teased your button.

"Jesus!"

That was all that could escape your lips as you tried to catch your breath and control your body. Joel made sounds like he planned to eat you out completely and leave you barely alive. Unconsciously, your hips jerked trying to break free from the pleasure his mouth was giving you, but his hands held you tighter to the mattress.

"Stay." he mumbled "You're not going anywhere."

One of your hands tightened on the headboard of the bed and the other tangled in Joel's hair. You felt him slide his tongue into your heated pussy, in and out, his thumb making small circles on your clit. You felt his scratchy stubble on your thighs, his hands pressing you down to the mattress.

"I'm so close...so close..."

"I can feel it, baby. C'mon, let go."

His two thick fingers slid into you without a problem, finding the right spot. You clenched your thighs tighter, but that didn't stop him, his fingers moved faster and faster and after a moment, indescribable pleasure spread through your body.

"Oh my God!" you moaned "Fuck!"

Joel didn’t wait, freed himself from between your legs and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock. He gave it a few pumps, his hands were slick with your juices. But it was his eyes that were the most hypnotizing. Those beautiful, brown eyes turned almost black. You knew he wanted you so much.

Not a word was said. His cock touched your pussy and after a moment he easily slid into you, stretching your walls pleasantly. Joel lay on you, pinning you harder to the mattress with the weight of his body. His fingers slid into your hair and his lips crushed yours. You only had time to wrap your legs around his waist before he thrust in for the first time.

His cock pushed in harder and deeper. You wanted to catch your breath, but Joel's mouth was swallowing you and it wasn't until he buried his face in your hair, moaning loudly, that you managed to do it.

You loved it when he made such dirty sounds, but living with a teenager, he had to hold back. Now Joel gave you a real concert.

"You're so tight, baby. So fucking good for me." he moaned in your ear. "I missed that pussy so much. I want to fuck you all night long."

You couldn't answer. No grammatically correct sentence was able to form in your brain. Your pussy took over and the only thing that slipped out from between your lips was:

"Harder, Joel… Fuck me harder."

Joel got up and knelt on the mattress. He threw your legs over his shoulders and held them tight, then began to pound into you harder and harder. Every movement was precise and hit exactly where you needed him. His cock moved hard inside you and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge really fast.

"I'm close, baby!" he panted "Cum for me, I want to feel you."

"Joel..."

"C'mon, baby." His thumb found your clit again and rubbed it hard "Fuck, c'mon!"

Your body arched. You could feel your walls squeeze his cock, the muscles in your legs quivering, but Joel didn't slow down. A few more hard thrusts and he filled you to the brim, a groan of pleasure escaping his throat as he tilted his head back.

"Sweet Jesus..." he mumbled, lowering his arms and letting your legs fall onto the bed, "Fuck, I've missed this so much..."

His cock slid out of you, and some of his seed flowed out of you after it. He watched it for a moment, then his fingers lazily pushed it back in.

"You know..." he began as his eyes moved to your face, "We should start talking about this eventually."

"About what?" you asked.

Joel laid down next to you, sliding down his jeans and laying completely naked, still breathing deeply.

"About kids." he replied calmly, turning his head to face you, "I'm not getting any younger, and I'd really like to have a kid or two with you."

"A kid or two?" you laughed.

"Yeah, why not?" his eyes shone so beautifully when he spoke about it "I would like to see your belly grow full of our baby. You will be even more beautiful. Besides, you are a wonderful mother to Sarah, she adores you. Would you like that? Because if you are not ready, baby, we can wait with it. We still have time."

You stroked his cheek, smiling fondly at him.

"I think I am ready, sweetie. It would be a wonderful journey together, don't you think?"

"Definitely."

You moved closer to him and snuggled into his arms. You were happy and you didn’t want to give up this moment for anything in the world.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[luveline]

Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling

thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k

Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 

Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 

You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 

Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 

"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 

"Then leave me alone," he says. 

Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 

"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 

He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 

You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 

The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 

You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 

You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 

From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 

"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 

You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 

You struggle to see him in the dark. 

"I should never have spoken to you like that." 

Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 

"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 

"I'm too tired," you mumble. 

Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 

You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 

"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 

"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 

You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 

"I love you," you say. 

"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 

"So don't be sorry." 

"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 

"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 

"I know," he utters. 

You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 

"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 

You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 

His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 

"I love you," he says into it. 

You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 

"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.

You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 

"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 

You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 

[cosmicpearlz]

lover boy

summary: with a break after doing tons of press, jude only wants to spend his time with one person.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

the very last shoot jude needed to do before his vacation was his new adidas ad, to promote the collection he did with the brand. being that the euros were finally completed, the boy couldn't be more happy for the upcoming vacation.

"jude, you need to get up," you whispered to him, reaching over him to turn off the alarm.

"i don't want to."

"well you kinda have to. i don't think adidas will be very happy with you," he groaned, flipping his body to lay on his side. jude opens his eyes and held his gaze on you.

"good morning darling."

"good morning m'love. seriously get up before you're late."

"i just wanna be with you. is that so bad?"

"no but in this case yes. you have a ad campaign you need to shoot," you bring your fingers to trace shapes on his arm. he closes his eyes in contentment, quickly soaking in the feeling of your touch.

"you made a commitment baby."

"fine fine, i'm getting up now," he poke's his head up to kiss your cheeks, before finally getting out of bed. "you look so cute snuggled up like that. that's a sight to make a man forget his responsibilities."

"you're such a flirt. go get ready," you couldn't help but to laugh at his dramatics.

"at least take a shower with me."

"can you handle and keep your hands to yourself?"

"i'm not sure yet," jude proceeds to bite his bottom lip, causing you to give him a blank stare.

"wrong answer. go shower, you're wasting time babe," you turn over in bed, hearing jude groan again before he left to finally get ready.

-

"okay, i'm leaving but i'll be back before you even realize i'm gone."

"be safe baby," you lean on your elbow to prop yourself up, puckering your lips for him to leave a kiss. jude gladly does so, leaving a couple pecks.

"i love you sweetheart."

"i love you the most."

"impossible, i love you wayyy more," jude whisper fell on your lips, right as he lays more kisses on your lips.

'you have to go jude."

"just one more kiss," he kisses your lips once more, then pulled away to place one on your forehead as well. you waved at jude with a smile, as he finally left the house.

-

jude wasn't late to the shoot in the end. the man was getting very irritated the more it went on. having to reshoot the scenes. he kept messing up the dialogue. maybe, its because he knew that this was his last commitment before vacation. all he knew was he wanted to be at home, with you in his arms.

"and cut! that's a wrap everyone," with the director clapping, everyone joined in. jude claps with the rest of the team, saying thank you. once he got all his thank you's out, he left immediately. itching to be home already.

-

pulling up to the house, was like a breath of fresh air. he was a free man for the next couple of weeks. jude planned a boys trip to california and miami. he was a bit bummed that you had to stay in spain for work. so he wanted spend as much time as he could with you. just as he was about to walk through the door, his phone starts ringing.

"hello?"

"hey man, the rest of the team is going out tonight before we all go on vacation. you coming?" his teammate and friend, vini jr says. jude pauses, he could either go out or stay inside with you.

"nah, i'm chilling at home today."

"okay, talk to you later."

"alright, bye," he's quick to hang up the phone and walk in your shared home. jude is greeted with the smell of food, specifically pizza.

"baby?" he calls out for you, wondering around looking for you.

"in the kitchen!"

turning the corner, he lays his eyes on you. jude watches you sitting on the counter with a piece of pizza in one hand and your phone in the other. you were wearing his shirt, it stopping on your mid thigh. a sight he quickly grew to love coming home to. you looked up from your phone, meeting his eyes.

"i got hungry but didn't want to cook."

jude chuckles at the way you talk with your mouth slightly full. one of your quirks he's always loved. he closes the short distance between the two of you, inviting himself to stand in your legs. you welcomed him by wrapping your legs loosely around his waist.

"hi."

"hi honey," jude brings a hand to your cheek, swiping his thumb on the apple of your cheek. you place the rest of the pizza in the box, giving him all of your attention.

"how'd it go?"

"don't wanna talk about that right now. just wanna be with you," jude presses his forehead against yours. the stress of the morning finally melting off.

"well, we have a couple days together, before you leave for your trip."

"which means i get you all to myself. thank the heavens."

"you're being dramatic again jude."

"don't care, all i want is you," leaning down to spread kisses in the column of your neck. you giggled and try to move away from his pillowy like kisses. "can't run from me baby, there's not an inch of you that's not gonna be kissed!"

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 167 }

peaches.

husband!jinwoo sung x wife!fem.reader

{ i get the feeling, so i'm sure | hand in my hand because i'm yours | i can't, i can't pretend, i can't ignore you're right for me | don't think you wanna know just where i’ve been, oh… }

when you first married your husband all those years ago, you didn’t think that your life would turn into something extraordinary-

almost too extraordinary.

of course, jinwoo sung had always been the sweetest, most kindest man alive. upon meeting you in college, he had stolen your heart with that mysterious smile and strange, glowing eyes of his. the way his soft ebony locks of hair fell across his features along with the way his full lips was turned up in a sheepish grin was enough to steal your heart instantly.

when the man began courting you was when you realized that your lover could do things that many normal people couldn’t do.

for starters, he had a strange, dark aura that constantly surrounded him. those wispy shadows would catch your attention, and before your gaze could follow them for too long, jinwoo would grab your chin and distract you with a kiss-

(which unfortunately for you, worked every time.)

the more you spent your time with him, the more you began to realize that those same wisps that exuded from his form would ultimately surround you as well. you recall the first night you had seen them after working a late shift at the diner that was your job during that time. once you had clocked out and stepped into the cold, night air, you swore you saw something shift within your shadow. curious as to what it was, you step closer to one of the streetlights, hoping that it would further accentuate your shadow-

only to nearly scream when you saw what looked like five pairs of glowing, purple eyes looking back at you. after the realization, you gasped and took a step back, suddenly finding yourself in someone’s arms, jinwoo’s happy voice whispering within your ear.

“hello, my beloved treasure. are you ready to go home?”

your head was spinning, looking at him, then back at your shadow to see it return back to its slender shape, glowing eyes all gone as your head began to spin. swallowing thickly, you turn around to hide your face within his chest.

“hm, what’s wrong, sarang?”

“it’s nothing.”

maybe you were just tired, that’s all. you didn’t want to worry jinwoo and tell him how you saw glowing, purple eyes staring back at you.

perhaps you should take his advice and stop working such late shifts after all?

instead, you ignored those feelings of suspicion, simply cuddling closer to jinwoo as he walked back with you to your shared apartment (completely missing his sigh of relief when you didn’t bring up his soldiers seen in your shadow.)

you didn’t know why you ignored all the strangeness surrounding your beloved boyfriend, but perhaps it was due to the fact that he was such a walking green flag that you truly didn’t care nor mind.

ultimately, he was the best thing that ever happened to you, and who were you to give him up so easily?

after years spent dating, jinwoo finally proposes to you at the ripe age of 27, with you accepting his proposal within seconds. you recall basking in his sweet kisses before proceeding to make love with him the night of his proposal, further cementing your promises of forever with him.

after your marriage, you didn’t think of such weirdness ever again… choosing to simply ignore the shadowy wisps as you correctly guessed that they were meant to protect you-

however, it all reached a boiling point when your son, suho, reached his first birthday and began floating across the dining room table. your eyes go wide, seeing him glowing as the shadowy wisps surrounded your baby boy. he had gotten upset when you didn’t let him eat his birthday cake. one moment you were telling suho to wait for his papa, and the next he was floating above you with pieces of his cake clutched tightly within his tiny grasps.

jinwoo told you he had some work to do at the station, but you were too panicked to wait for him to come home tonight. in your anxious state, you called him right away, feeling grateful that he answers on the second ring.

“hello love-“

“jinwoo…! suho is… he’s floating and the shadows are trying to help him down… but he’s not coming down!”

you follow your child in hopes of catching him if he ever decided to come down, hearing jinwoo shift around a bit on the other line.

“don’t worry, sarang… i told you that i know how to fly, too, right?” amusement was heard in his voice, and you felt a sense of pure annoyance flooding your veins.

“you most certainly have not told me such things! and i expect a full explanation when you come home!”

“wait, my love-“

“and i mean everything, jinwoo sung!”

you hang up the call quickly, watching as suho took a nose dive back into your arms. filled with a sense of relief, you felt your son smear his cake all over your blouse and take a step back-

only to detect the faint scent of your husband’s cologne as his powerful arms were felt wrapped around you.

“how do you manage to do that?” you hiss at him, eyes weakly glaring at him when he holds you even tighter to his chest. again, he had appeared when you needed him the most.

“later, my love… i’ll tell you later… first, let’s celebrate our suho’s precious birthday.”

“bah!!!” suho’s eager cries for his father makes your heart melt, easing your anger just the tiniest bit. you pout while transferring suho into jinwoo’s arms, snickering when your son manages to smear even more bits of frosting and cake against his turtleneck sweater.

the next few hours were spent with you finishing up dinner and celebrating suho’s first birthday with his lopsided cake. never wishing to remain too far away from you or suho, jinwoo settles your form on his lap while you held on to suho, cleaning the crumbs of his cake off of his mouth as your husband cuddled close to you and your son.

when nightfall came and jinwoo helped put suho to bed in his crib, you stayed close by with your arms crossed over your chest. when he shuts suho’s door, his solemn, grey eyes meet with your gaze. you gesture at him to follow you out into the balcony, and he does so while wrapping a hand around your waist.

you slide open the glass door and close it, speaking in hushed tones so as to not disturb your neighbors. “i turned a blind eye to many things when it comes to you jinwoo… solely because i love you so damn much.”

he hums, holding you tightly in his embrace while momentarily looking at the skies.

“from shadows that seem to surround me to your strange glowing eyes-“

“we have a history together, my love.” jinwoo interrupts you, not looking away from the sky.

his words make you look up at him. “obviously, we do. we’ve been together since the start of college.”

“no… before that. way before that.”

taking advantage of his strength, he turns you around so that you were now facing him. his eyes glow that same, startling hue as his hands gripped at your shoulders tightly. “if you wish to know the truth, the whole truth, then say the word. i’m no longer the coward i once was… i’m certain i can keep you by my side regardless of what happens.”

you let out a shaky breath before giving him a nod as your final answer.

he brings you closer to him now, surrounding you within his powerful embrace as he kisses you fully on the lips. the shadows dance around you once more, as you saw a faint glow surrounding your form from beneath your closed eyelids-

and that single action alone was enough to pull the curtain away from your very memories.

there were gates and hunters… monarchs and monsters that threatened to destroy all of humanity…

and there was you and jinwoo…

a hunter with his healer…

all at once, you felt your vivid memories returning back to you, the onslaught of visions being too much to bear that you had a hard time discerning all of them. you end up falling against jinwoo, his arms being wrapped around you in a comforting manner as he prevented you from slumping against the ground.

your head was pounding, yet despite the pain, you manage to look up at him, seeing jinwoo with his eyes clenched shut as tears streamed down his face.

“i’ve been so alone- i’ve kept this burden of mine a secret for so long, and this may be selfish of me, but- i’m truly so happy that you know.”

you shake your head and push through the pain, leaning up to kiss him deeply as he delves his fingers into your hair. as the full moon shone brightly against your entangled forms, you knew that jinwoo had always been your soulmate from the start.

as you spend the following years in marital bliss, you gave suho a little sister named sera, a precious little girl who held both yours and jinwoo’s features while having your eyes. even at such a young age, suho swore to protect his little sister while allowing jinwoo’s shadow soldiers to surround both of them.

yet there was a growing concern between you and jinwoo when it came to your children. after all, jinwoo wanted both suho and sera to live a relatively normal and peaceful life, forcing him to lock away their memories pertaining to the powerful nature of their father (a power that they were sure to inherit someday.)

after jinwoo had erased your children’s memories, you spent the night in your children’s room comforting them, with beru crying while clutching on tightly to suho’s drawing depicting beru holding hands with both him and sera. as the former ant king leaves the room, you whisper to jinwoo.

“will you leave them in the dark forever?”

he shakes his head, bringing you into his embrace while pressing a kiss against your hair. “no, not forever. they’re both still too young… and i’d like to give the fruits of our love some happiness… after all, being children of the shadow monarch is no easy burden to bear…”

you hum in agreement, moving your head so that you could meet his lips in a searing kiss. regardless of what the future would bring, you swore to always remain by jinwoo’s side, all while protecting and raising your children…

“mom, if you keep cutting the cucumbers too much, it’ll be like baby food.”

you snap out of your reveries just then, looking down to see a 10-year old sera looking up at you with an innocent expression. you giggle and pick up the slender girl, allowing her to sit on the counter as you placed the cut cucumbers into a bowl for tonight’s kimchi.

“thank you for helping your mama.” you smile and brush your lips against your daughter’s forehead, earning a giggle from her.

“mama, where’s oppa…? it’s getting late.”

you purse your lips, looking up at the clock to see that it was 6:45pm… sera was right. usually suho would come home from school at around 3pm with your husband joining later around 8 to 9pm.

“my queen, do not fret, for your husband and young monarch are here…” tusk whispers in your ear, making your eyes widen in response.

as if on cue, the door was heard opening, with jinwoo carrying an unconscious suho in his arms.

“oppa!” sera calls out to her brother, jumping off the counter to meet with her father, “papa, is he okay? is oppa hurt?!”

jinwoo chuckles, ruffling his daughter’s hair with a fondness. “your oppa is fine, he just has a little headache. how about you keep him company until he feels better?”

sera gives him a determined nod, following jinwoo into suho’s room when you decide to put all of the ingredients for tonight’s dinner back into the fridge.

after all, jinwoo had a lot of explaining to do.

while waiting for jinwoo’s return, you poured him an ice cold glass of lemonade, filling it to the brim and offering it to him when you felt his arms suddenly encircle around your waist a couple of minutes later.

“thanks, honey…”

you face him, watching him drain the entire glass within seconds.

“where’s sera?”

“staying by her brother’s side until he wakes up. i told her to keep a close watch on him, he should feel better when dinner’s ready.”

you nod and lean against the kitchen sink. “and… just what did you do?”

you take a moment to admire him, feeling a sense of womanly pride filling you at the fact that he was your husband. despite how it was clear that jinwoo had aged, with slight wrinkles against the corner of his eyes and corner of his lips, he still looked as handsome as the day you first met him-

perhaps even handsomer than before.

settling the empty glass to the side, he wraps his arms around your back. “i was testing him, to see if he was ready to fully inherit my abilities. i even made a system for him to help level up as well.”

you hum and sway back and forth in his arms. “and…?”

jinwoo scoffs, “he is far from ready… filled with overconfidence and a cockiness that’s seen in all teenagers his age. suho has been too spoiled, never once facing the dangers or the fear of death… and such inexperience could lead to his downfall.”

your husband’s words manage to earn a laugh from you. “weren’t you just as cocky back then, too?”

jinwoo rolls his eyes, playfully taking your hand before gently biting down against your fingertip. “there’s a difference between fighting to protect what matters and when to stop when victory cannot be achieved. suho has yet to learn that."

he sighs when he sees the concerned look in your eyes, bringing you closer to him as he presses a lingering kiss against your forehead. “i just want him to be able to protect himself and sera if anything were to happen to us… and at the moment, he’s not ready to receive the full gift of my powers just yet.”

you let out a hum and rest your head against his chest. “our babies are growing up so fast… it’s crazy how far our family has come. i trust you and your judgement, jinwoo. because regardless… i’m so happy that i was able to be the mother of your children.”

“and you have no idea how happy i am to be the father of your children.”

after spending a few extra moments sharing kisses, jinwoo smiles down at you while framing at your face with his two hands.

“how about we order some fried chicken with all of our children’s favorite side dishes… as a treat and an apology for scaring our son?”

you giggle and roll your eyes at your husband and his playful smile, feeling your heart become alight with pure love for him-

praying that such bliss with him and your precious kids will last for forever and a day…

{ done being distracted | the one i need is right in my arms | your kisses taste the sweetest with mine | and i’ll be right here with you 'til end of time. }

a.n. - i was so desperate to write for hubby!jinwoo, and i’m so happy at how this turned out 🥹 i apologize for any errors, since i wish to get this posted asap!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[nerdallwritey]

Worth the Peril

Summary: In another life, Astarion would have made a decent barbarian. Despite Karlach’s cheerful demeanor, for the most part, barbarians were known to be violent, brutal, and cruel. All things that Astarion could easily tap into if the situation called for it. And right now, he was entering a rage. OR Upon arriving in the Underdark, you go down in a battle, leaving Astarion to pick up the pieces.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ (no smut) Word count: 15.1k CW: reader gets hurt - violence, severe injury, blood, descriptions of wound, depictions of pain, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, protective Astarion, blind with rage Astarion, soft Astarion, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), everyone else sees what Astarion can't Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 5 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SHE'S HERE!! I am SO excited to be finally be posting the newest chapter of Beauty and the Bard! Thank you so much for your patience as I was sorting this one out. I've always been a huge fan of the hurt/comfort trope and the "Person A gets hurt and Person B loses it" trope, so this is my take on both of those tropes in one! Did I fudge the numbers of the Duergar fight in the Underdark from Act One? Yes. Did I fudge the numbers in terms of injury severity and what's actually possible through magical healing? Also yes! But in a world where a skeleton will bring you back from the dead for $200, OR, simply sleeping a full eight hours will heal you completely, I think I was able to make it make sense. Hopefully. Apologies to anyone working in the medical field who knows I'm a sham. But this is a series about smooching a vampire, so we gotta suspend our disbelief somewhere! There's no smut in this chapter, and for that, I apologize, but it'll make sense why it doesn't. If it helps, my beta says that this is her favorite chapter to date! Woo! Please enjoy. (Thank you to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading! - Also! She just got married! And a tiktok from it went viral! We love her, she's the best.) As a reminder, last time, you and Astarion had a little romp in the river while watching the sunrise.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

Barring a few dirty looks from Shadowheart and Lae��zel, your return to camp with Astarion - both of you now vaguely damp - was largely ignored in favor of packing up camp in preparation for venturing into the Underdark. So long as you were both there to help with the pack up efforts, it didn’t really matter where the two of you had spent your morning. 

Astarion squeezed your hand fondly before sauntering over to his tent to loiter and drag his feet until the camp was mostly all packed away. You knew his game; look busy without actually lifting a finger until it was absolutely necessary. You rolled your eyes before bending to gather and organize the loot in your tent. He was so annoying.

Gods, you hated him.

And you loved him.

Why, of all people, did you have to fall in love with the emotionally stunted, incredibly dramatic, freak weirdo vampire? Wyll was perfectly nice! Shadowheart had a good head on her shoulders! And yet…

Your eyes flicked over to his tent momentarily. 

He wasn’t even trying. He was fully looking at his nails. He looked up briefly and met your eye. He smirked before moving his hand to wave at you delicately with his fingertips. 

“Pack,” you called to him from across camp.

“What?” He cupped a hand to his ear as if he couldn’t hear you from the relatively short distance away. “You’ll have to speak up, darling! Or, better yet-”

He left his tent and made his way over to yours.

“Oooh, no,” you scolded and pointed towards his tent. “Get back over there and pack, you jackass.”

“Ouch, love,” Astarion squatted beside you. He looked around your tent at the trinkets you’d accumulated and picked one up, rotating it in his hands. A tiny statue of a mermaid, her face sculpted in midsong. “Heavy little bugger,” he said, testing its weight in his hands.

“It’s made of iron, I think,” you said. 

“And you’re going to make us lug it into the Underdark? Rather selfish of you, don’t you think?”

You snatched the figure out of his hands. “Can I help you with something, Astarion?”

He spread out his legs and leaned back against a chest you kept close-by. “Not particularly.” He rested his arms behind his head, very clearly trying to flex his arms to keep your attention on him.

You laughed and pushed him, making him fall sideways. “Stop trying to distract me and go pack your own stuff up. I will not help you when you’re inevitably scrambling later.”

“Yes, you will,” he said, using your shoulder to help himself stand up. He squeezed it once before heading back in the direction of his tent. 

“No, I won’t!” you called after him, but he turned and cupped his hand to his ear again, pretending he couldn’t hear you. You groaned loudly and continued packing. 

“Hate to say it, Soldier,” said Karlach, whose tent was set up between yours and Astarion’s, “but you probably will help him.”

You sighed heavily. “I know.”

~~~~~

It hadn’t been as bad as you thought.

You’d had the foresight to keep your belongings relatively close together, making use of the traveler’s chest you all shared. Once you’d gathered all your possessions and dismantled your tent, you placed everything you couldn’t carry on your person into the chest. Karlach had helped Halsin lift the trunk, full to the brim with everyone’s overflow, into an ox wagon that you all planned on taking with you to the ruined goblin camp and down into the Underdark below. Even Astarion had managed to gather most of his things before inevitably earning your help with a bat of his eyes.

It had taken maybe two hours total, but looking around the area that you had called home for the last few weeks, it was as if your party had never been there to begin with. It was a little sad to be leaving, but you were pleased with the progress you all had made and were ready to keep moving forward in order to get these damn worms out of your skulls.

The trek into the Underdark, meanwhile, was long and frustrating; Gale had to cast Feather Fall on half of your team, the ox cart, and Scratch and the Owlbear cub, while the other half of you used the deceptively long ladder down into the abandoned Selunite outpost below - much to Shadowheart’s dismay. 

Much to Astarion’s dismay, you’d actually stumbled upon a colony of Miconids after bumbling through a battle with a pair of minotaurs and looking for a place to rest. It was there that you spoke with the head of their colony, Sovereign Spaw, about eliminating a clan of Duergar dwarves threatening their population.

Which was how you now found yourself smugly walking beside Astarion as Gale and Shadowheart led the way towards the supposed Duergar hideout. The rest of your party had (begrudgingly, in the case of Lae’zel) agreed to help Halsin set up camp close to the Miconids and their beautiful glowing mushrooms, and had stayed behind.

“You must wipe that stupid expression off your face, darling,” Astarion rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Otherwise you might get stuck like that.”

“I told you they were real.” You waggled your eyebrows in victory.

“And their music was far less irritating than yours,” he teased. “So I suppose that was nice.”

“Bastard,” you muttered. “I’d love to play something with them when we get back.”

“You would.”

“Ass hat.”

“Loud mouth.”

“Would you two shut it?” Gale turned and quietly shouted. “We’re swiftly approaching the Duergar clan, according to Sovereign Spaw’s directions.”

“I still think we should have rested for the evening,” Astarion complained. “A specimen such as myself requires copious amounts of beauty sleep.”

You withheld a yawn, willing the vampire not to see it. You were still tired from your lack of sleep this morning, and your romp in the river. Not to mention the hike to get down here, and the minotaurs you’d already faced. You were able to get a short rest in at the colony, but you were definitely feeling it, and you didn’t want to worry your teammates. Plus you knew Astarion would never let you hear the end of it, given his protests about it earlier today.

“Enough, Astarion,” Shadowheart groaned. “You heard Spaw; the Duergar are a looming threat to their colony. We couldn’t risk a possible ambush in the night. Especially with all the refugees seeking shelter there.”

Astarion sighed. “And, I suppose I must admit, I like the sovereign’s approach. A little genocidal, but effective.”

“Yes, great, you’ll get your fill of blood, now would you hush!” Gale halted, causing the rest of you to stop, too. “Something’s wrong.”

You surveyed your surroundings. Wooden structures stood decaying all around, from bridges, to long forgotten buildings, and nets once used for ladders. It had probably been home to a village of people at one time.

“Looks abandoned,” you supplied.

Off in the distance you could make out a lake through some fog. Boats rocked gently against a worn looking dock, illuminated by purple crystals that populated the area. That must be the lake that Spaw had described. But wait… were those-? Lit torches?

You were about to take a step forward to investigate further, but Astarion held out an arm to block you. 

“I smell a trap,” he warned.

Suddenly an arrow shot past your ear and landed in a wooden post behind you.

“That’s quite a sense of smell you have,” Gale quipped, prepping a spell in his hands. “Think you could sniff out where that arrow came from?”

Your eyes frantically searched the area but couldn’t make anything out. 

“Duck!” Shadowheart shouted, as a flaming arrow seemed to appear out of thin air and hurdle towards your party. 

You hit the deck, lifting your head ever so slightly in the direction where the arrow came flying from. A figure appeared out of nowhere as you watched, taking a step to the side to hide behind a wall. That explained it.

“Our attackers are using an Invisibility spell,” you said quietly. “If we can get them to attack us, we can break the spell and see them clearly before they have the chance to cast it again.”

“Sounds fairly dangerous,” Gale muttered, holding a hand to his chin in thought.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Shadowheart whispered, pulling her shield and morning star off of her back. 

“Not really,” Gale said after thinking for a moment. 

Astarion, meanwhile, had already unsheathed his daggers. “Let’s spill some blood.” A wicked grin graced his features. 

“Let’s think about this for a second,” you said, holding out an arm to block him from getting up and feeling him deflate. You peered around the large rock that you and your companions had ducked behind. Platforms were littered throughout the decrepit village, perfect for you all to spread out. Quietly, you removed your lute and your backpack. 

“Now’s not really the time to serenade us with a sappy love song, dearest,” Astarion said, his eyes on your loose lute that he’d recently gifted you. 

“Shut up, and take this,” you said, handing him a scroll of Misty Step that you pulled out of your bag. You handed one to Shadowheart as well. “Gale, how are you doing on magic?”

Gale flexed his hands, the purple of the Weave sparking at his fingertips. “Good enough to take out a few dwarves, I’d say. But I have my crossbow if necessary.”

You nodded and turned to Shadowheart. “You?”

She nodded back at you. “I should have enough for some healing if anyone needs it, but I’ll stick to cantrips if I can.”

You nodded again, thinking deeply. “Okay, our magic is running kind of low, so we have to be smart about this.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my magic, darling?”

Shadowheart laughed humorlessly. “Oh, please. As if you won’t rely entirely on those knives of yours.”

He scoffed. “I’ll have you know, I’m also very skilled with a bow.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t rest more before we had to do this.”

“The life of a hero is not an easy one,” Gale pointed out. “One cannot always put their feet up by the hearth when lives are at stake.”

“Speak for yourself,” Astarion rolled his eyes. 

“What’s the plan?” Shadowheart asked you. “We might want to hurry, given they know our location and we don’t know theirs.”

“I was thinking we all cast Misty Step,” you turned back around to look over the boulder and pointed to the various empty structures, “and land on those platforms.”

“Ah, the high ground! Very logical,” Gale nodded in approval.

“But do we want to be out in the open? They’ll shoot at us and we won’t have any cover.” Shadowheart raised a good point.

“I’ll cause a distraction,” you said, “no worries.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I hate the sound of that.”

“What do you mean?! I’m great at distractions!”

Rather than responding, Astarion hummed skeptically. Then he leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. “I’m going to go kill some dwarves now.” With that, he unfurled the scroll, recited “inveniam viam,” and you watched as he disappeared and reappeared on a platform hidden in darkness. You lost sight of him as he vanished into the shadows and turned back to face Gale and Shadowheart.

“Be smart with your magic, and be safe.” Both of them nodded wordlessly at you and prepared to cast Misty Step. You picked up your lute and stood up straight. “See you on the other side,” you winked and started descending down a hill towards your hidden enemies. 

Strumming a quiet tune, you created a Minor Illusion around yourself to look like a traveling musician, rather than an armored spellcaster. You slung your lute back around onto your back. 

“Sorry!” you called, holding your hands up above your head as if in surrender. You spotted an armored dwarf on a wooden walkway up ahead, currently visible, and walked towards him. “So sorry!”

“What?” The dwarf looked surprised by your unarmed approach. “Gehk! Got someone sneaking up on us!”

“No!” you assured. “My band mates and I,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the area where you’d been spotted with your companions, “we got a little turned around. See, we thought there might be a secluded place down here to practice for our upcoming gig, and well, we didn’t know you were already here, and-”

“Too loud, sun-scum,” came a voice from above you. You looked up to see another Duergar on a platform overhead. He wore an amulet of the Absolute and had a large battle axe strapped to his back. “Could hear you and your mates stumbling. Can hear you blinking.” 

“That seems unlikely,” you muttered. Your eyes wandered around, pretending to look for more dwarves in the area, but really checking to make sure your companions were in position. 

“Noise gets you eaten down here,” the dwarf with the amulet went on. “Reckon I’ll hush you before something hungry comes along.” 

“You’d hurt an unarmed musician?” You held your hands up higher.

The dwarf above you barked out a laugh. “Nice try, bard.” He spat the word. “Saw you lot from a mile away. Your little disguise is pitiful.”

Something seemed off. You felt a chill run down your spine as something brushed against you. The illusion of your plain clothes fell away, revealing your armor. You had a feeling your invisible foes had you surrounded. 

“Now,” said the dwarf, “where are your little friends hiding?”

You laughed. “I was just going to ask! Why would you all surround me when my little friends are over there?” You nodded your head towards one of the platforms.

The dwarf’s eyes widened as he spotted Shadowheart, whose hands were poised with a Firebolt spell. “They’re up there!” Before the dwarf could point, an arrow pierced through his shoulder from behind, knocking him forward off the platform. You sidestepped his falling body and made eye contact with Astarion who smirked down at you. 

“Attack!” The first dwarf you spoke to shouted, and all hell broke loose. 

Light surrounded you as Shadowheart cast Bless, and you were able to out-maneuver the dwarf who’d yelled as the light momentarily blinded him. Arrows flew towards Astarion, who’d been the first to shoot, and with those arrows, multiple dwarves’ Invisibility spells broke. Astarion was able to easily dodge and avoid the onslaught of attacks, thanks to the advantage of being on higher ground. You grabbed your lute and cast Shatter, causing the dwarves around you to fly backwards in a wave of thunder. Gale launched fiery arrows at your foes, and Shadowheart summoned a Spiritual Weapon to fight for you all on the ground below.

“You’re here because of those rotflowers, aren’t you?” The dwarf with the Absolute pendant got to his feet and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. “You reek of justice and good deeds.”

“Funny,” you said, using the pommel of your rapier to push a now visible dwarf off the platform you were on, “and I just took a bath this morning.”

“Would you classify that as a bath?” Astarion called down to you, mischief in his eyes.

You smiled, but could already feel yourself starting to lose steam, even though the battle had just started. Still, you pressed on and cast another Shatter, scattering your enemies further and buying you some time to catch your breath. “And what would you classify it as?”

“I can think of many things, but we’re in such polite company, I shan’t say.” He shot a flaming arrow down onto the beach and hit multiple dwarves at once in the explosion. 

“I don’t like whatever’s happening here,” the dwarf with the Absolute amulet said. “But I’ll make you pay for siding with those mushroom abominations.” The dwarf raised his hands and uttered a spell you didn't recognize, but a cacophony of noise from below caught your attention. The lapse in focus cost you, as one of the dwarves you’d been fending off pushed you off the platform.

You heard your companions yell your name as you landed hard in the sand below. It took you a second to regain your bearings before you realized what the sound had been. Fallen Duergar were now rising, life not returning to their eyes, but risen all the same.

Animate Dead. 

You’d heard of this spell; had seen it in action with Mayrina’s husband, Connor. But you had yet to see it used in battle. 

Now you were surrounded by undead dwarves, hell bent on tearing you apart. 

“Hi,” was all you could manage through the spinning of your head. You blinked a few times before blocking the heavy strike of an axe with your slim rapier. When it was clear that the axe was going to prevail, you rolled out of the way and the axe connected with the sand that had been beneath your head. 

“Are you alright?” Shadowheart called after hitting you with a Healing Word. 

You squared your shoulders and entered into a fighting stance. “Better now, thanks!” While it was true, you were still exhausted and could feel your magic actively getting weaker. You’d have to remind yourself to get a sturdier sword after this battle. You heard a clang as Shadowheart’s Spiritual Weapon was destroyed by a few zombies that now turned their attention on you.

“Hardly the place, darling,” Astarion called, downing one of the zombies in front of you with an arrow of ice. “Dying down here? Embarrassing.”

“Stop talking and help her kill the bloody things!” Gale yelled, still slinging spells and arrows at the dwarves from up on the platforms. 

The undead kept rushing at you, and you were able to keep them at bay with brandishes of your rapier and weaker casts of Thunderwave, but it was getting harder and harder to fight back. Meanwhile, living dwarves had made it to the other platforms and started climbing up to your companions. Astarion’s help began to dwindle as his attention was split between you and the dwarves he had to face head on with his daggers. You could hear less and less of Gale’s magic as he opted fully for his crossbow, especially now with dwarves attempting to climb up to him. Shadowheart was facing the same obstacles, instead swinging her morningstar and shoving her shield to throw dwarves from the platform. 

“Guys,” you said, not as loudly as you would have hoped. There was too much going on. Even if you did manage to raise your voice, it would be hard to hear you over the sounds of fire arrows and spells. 

“Guys,” you tried again but to no avail. You cast a small Cure Wounds on yourself, but instantly regretted it. You could have saved that spell for an offensive attack, and now you felt yourself completely depleted of magic, despite trying your best to use it sparingly. Which was difficult when you were surrounded by enemies and your companions were occupied with their own battles. You were just one person. This was too much.

The undead dwarves still standing were backing you up against a cluster of boulders in the center of the beach. 

This was okay. You were fine! You’d been in tough spots before and you and your team had always come out on top. You could do this. Undead dwarves? Pah! What kind of lethal damage could someone with dead muscle inflict, right? Sure, Astarion was undead and he was a vicious killer, but that was Astarion, and these dwarves had just been resurrected. They were just getting their sea legs! Life…. legs? It didn’t matter. They probably couldn’t even think for themselves. You could handle this.

With a boost of confidence from your mental pep talk, you surged forward, away from the center of the beach, and stabbed a zombie through the chest. The visceral sound of metal entering flesh was loud and oddly satisfying.

“Ah ha!” you shouted as the zombie slumped to the ground. 

But the stab had been louder than your slim blade should have been able to muster. You pulled the blade out of the slumped zombie to inspect, but upon looking down, you saw silver glinting with red through your midsection. 

Another zombie had come up behind you and cleaved you with his axe. The head of it peaked out through your stomach.

You heard your name roared from somewhere up above.

The metallic taste of your own blood rushed into your mouth as your vision started to blur. You fell to your knees.

“Guys,” you said one more time.

Then everything went black.

~~~~~

In another life, Astarion would have made a decent barbarian. 

Despite Karlach’s cheerful demeanor, for the most part, barbarians were known to be violent, brutal, and cruel. All things that Astarion could easily tap into if the situation called for it.

And right now, he was entering a rage.

Red. 

That was all he saw. 

Red, and the corpses of the dwarves who dared cross his path on his way down to you.

He hadn’t witnessed it.

Had been too caught up in his own hacking and slashing to see the moment when the axe had made its way through your torso. But he had smelled it. Instantly, he had recognized the sweet notes of your blood entering the air. That’s when he’d looked down and saw the state of you. He’d screamed your name, far louder than any of the magic and explosions that were still triggering in the fight. 

Shadowheart and Gale’s heads snapped down to look at you, terror in their eyes. And yet they still had to fight. The zombies surrounding your unconscious form began to move away from you and up towards them instead. 

Astarion downed dwarves left and right, going overboard in his violence on the warpath to get you into his arms. 

“Shadowheart!” he yelled, as if she wasn’t already aware of the situation.

“I know!” she shouted back. “I can try a Healing Word but my magic’s nearly spent!”

“Do it! NOW!” Astarion bellowed as he sliced through the abdomen of a dwarf preparing to fire a spell. He heard a chant of “te curo,” followed by the aqua magic that usually came with a healing spell, but you remained motionless in the sand. 

“The wound is too deep and my magic isn’t strong enough!” Shadowheart slung her morning star into the head of a Duergar that had successfully climbed up to her platform. 

Gale looked over to Shadowheart and the two shared a brief, silent conversation before Gale nodded and Misty Stepped down to you.

“Don’t you touch her, wizard!” Astarion yelled as he fought his way through what once must have been a house of some kind. “Unless you can bring her back up!” His daggers stabbed through the Duergar with the Absolute amulet; the one who’d raised those dead in the first place. Astarion made sure his death was extra painful with each twist of his knives.

“Be reasonable, Astarion!” Gale yelled back and shot an arrow at one of the zombies still slinking across the beach. He bent and attempted to get you to swallow some healing potion. You’d already lost a lot of blood.

“She’s DYING!” Astarion bellowed before jumping down, out of the house, and down onto the beach. He made a sound of pain as he landed, but stumbled as quickly as he could over to you on his hands and knees. 

Before he reached you, however, he spotted an unarmed zombie halfway up a ladder. That must have been the vile creature whose blade was still lodged in you. He made a beeline for the abomination and pulled it down with enough force to rip the rope that made up the ladder it was climbing. His blades were entering the zombie repeatedly before he even realized he’d pinned it to the ground. It stopped moving fairly soon after its first stab wound, but Astarion wouldn’t let up.

“It’s dead, Astarion!” Gale said, trying to bring him back to reality. “Truly dead!”

Astarion finally stopped and breathed heavily. He abandoned the corpse and made his way over to you, sinking to his knees.

“You’re okay,” he cooed. “Help is here.” He gently pulled you into his lap, careful not to touch the axe head. “I’ve got you.”

“She’s still alive,” Gale confirmed. “I gave her some healing potion and checked her pulse.”

Astarion wasn’t listening. He rocked back and forth, wiping matted hair out of your face. “Darling,” he said quietly, “you’re too pretty to die. And look at all the precious blood you’ve wasted.” You shifted a little and he paused. 

Your eyes opened briefly. When you realized it was Astarion looking down at you, you smiled. 

“Hi,” you said weakly.

Astarion laughed, but it was a choked, mangled thing. “Hello, my love.”

“That hurt,” you said, smiling blearily until your eyes closed again. He brought his forehead lightly to yours.

Gale touched his shoulder. “Take her to Halsin. He’ll be able to help more than any of us at the moment.”

Astarion wanted to argue, but knew that Gale was probably right. Annoying bastard. 

“Help me, would you?” He made to stand up and Gale moved to help guide you gently into Astrion’s arms as he stood. The axe rested uncomfortably between the two of you, but Astarion knew better than to try and pull it out without the proper healing implements nearby to stop the bleeding. 

“We’ll be fine here,” Gale said, shooting another arrow at a dwarf on his way to Shadowheart. “You cleared most of the sorry mongrels just now, anyway.”

“I don’t recall asking,” Astarion snapped, readjusting how he was holding you. 

“Only trying to help,” Gale said sharply. “None of us want to see her suffer.”

Astarion sighed. “I know,” he admitted.

Gale placed a hand on his shoulder again. “Proprae,” he said, and warm magic surrounded Astarion. “Longstrider,” Gale explained. “It’ll get you to Halsin faster. Now go.”

Astarion nodded and took off back towards the Myconid colony.

“You just had to play hero, didn’t you?” He didn’t look down at you as he sidestepped purple crystals and wayward wooden planks. “Couldn’t stay back for once and let someone else handle it.”

You coughed a little and peered up at him. “I do it for the glory,” you wheezed with a joking smile.

Astarion’s eyes flicked to you for a second. “There are better ways to get attention, darling.” He smiled despite himself. “Now stop talking, please. Save that strength.”

Rather than argue further, you closed your eyes again and nuzzled your face into his neck. You were so tired. And cold. Numbness had overtaken your body except for a dull ache in your midsection. You didn’t even realize when you slipped away again.

Astarion felt you go slightly more limp and swore, dodging exploding mushrooms and trying to remember the way back to the Myconids. 

“Don’t you dare leave me,” he growled. “Not now. Not you.” He refused to shed a tear. You’d be okay, and then he’d have words with you about your pesky bleeding heart. 

Speaking of bleeding, he didn’t like how easily he could smell your blood. Usually he’d be thrilled to be surrounded by such an intoxicating aroma, but right now it was making him sick to his stomach. 

“Do you know how selfish you are?” he asked, knowing you wouldn’t respond. “Wasting all this blood. Some of us need a proper meal.”

He hated your silence. Hated that you weren’t strong enough to tell him he could feed from you if he wanted because of course you would. Or maybe you’d come up with some sort of jab about him being selfish for thinking about food at a time like this. He missed your voice.

“How dare you scare me like this, you stubborn clod.” 

In the distance, he saw the glowing mushrooms of the colony. He ducked his head and willed himself to run even faster. 

“Where are they?!” Astarion shouted to a mushroom sentry at the entrance. The Myconid remained stoic, but flashed a somber song through Astarion’s mind. “Not helpful!” he shouted as he ran up the steps.

There! That halfling woman who’d asked you all to find her bumbling husband.

“You!” he yelled, his eyes wild. “The group I was traveling with! Where did they go?!”

The halfling woman fumbled for words, shocked at the bloody sight of you before her.

“Tell me!” he exclaimed.

“I believe they found a clearing not far off. The druid came by earlier to swap herbs.”

Astarion didn’t respond before booking it again, the Myconids singing a mournful ballad to him as he passed them. 

“HALSIN!” he screamed when he left through the other entrance of the colony. “WYLL! KARLACH! LAE’ZEL! YOU BLASTED WHELPS, WHERE ARE YOU?!” He kept running, following along a path of glowing mushrooms.

“Astarion?” It was Wyll.

“WHERE ARE YOU?!” Astarion repeated, recalibrating to run towards the sound of his voice.

“OVER HERE!” Karlach shouted, and Astarion saw Scratch appear from around a corner a short distance away, followed closely by Karlach. Wyll and Lae’zel caught up behind them.

“Dear gods,” Wyll murmured before running into camp and creating a space for you. 

“I’ll get Halsin!” Karlach turned and ran.

“Kaincha,” Lae’zel breathed as Astarion passed her.

“Lay her here,” Wyll said, having prepped a bedroll next to the fire.

“Like hells is she going on the bloody ground,” Astarion hissed, looking around for something more comfortable. “Grab my pillows,” he nodded from Wyll to the ox cart. 

Wyll nodded and ran to the cart before coming back and beginning to fashion a makeshift mattress. 

Lae’zel looked around for Gale and Shadowheart. “Where are the others?”

“Damned Duergars. They’re in a rotting village by the lake southwest of here.”

“I shall avenge our fallen,” she nodded before running to her tent, grabbing her greatsword and taking off in the direction Astarion had come in from. 

“She’s not dead yet,” Astarion muttered as Halsin and Karlach entered the space frantically. “There you are!” He addressed Halsin icily. He had yet to put you down. 

Halsin ignored Astarion in favor of approaching you and assessing the damage. He held multiple bowls and jars of unknown substances, and his face gave nothing away. “Bring her this way,” he said, motioning for Astarion to follow him. Halsin led him to a giant mushroom cap. “Lay her down here.” He set down the materials he was holding nearby.

“On a damn mushroom? You must be joking.” Astarion held you tighter.

“Astarion,” Halsin said gently, “I’m going to help her. You have to trust me.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes and reassessed the mushroom. It did look soft, and big enough for your whole body to spread out on. He looked at Halsin again who remained calm and collected. Astarion nodded.

Halsin nodded back and helped him untangle you from his arms. “We’re going to lay her on her side,” he instructed, and Astarion did his best to roll you gently onto the mushroom cap. 

“How can we help?” Wyll asked, making Astarion jump. He’d forgotten about anyone outside of his current line of sight. 

“Fetch my pack, if you would, Wyll,” Halsin said. 

Wyll nodded and ran towards Halsin’s tent on the other side of camp. 

“And me?” Karlach asked. 

“Can you heat up some water?”

“You got it,” she said before rushing to grab a bucket.

Halsin held out his hand, golden magic emitting from his palm. He closed his eyes and hovered his hand up and down your body.

“Well?” Astarion asked impatiently. 

Halsin opened his eyes and Astarion caught a flash of panic in them.

No.

“We need to get this axe out as soon as possible,” Halsin explained. “She’s going to lose more blood, but you were right to leave it in on the battlefield.”

It was then that Wyll came back, lugging Halsin’s backpack, along with other supplies he deemed might be useful.

“So get it out and heal her!” Astarion exclaimed.

“I’ll do my best, Astarion, but you’ll have to be patient.” 

“Where’s Withers?” Astarion looked around but caught no glimpse of the skeleton.

“He said he’d find us once we’re settled,” Wyll reminded him kindly. 

“If we lose her and he can’t bring her back, I’m ending him.” Astarion knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to kill someone who brought people back from the dead for a living (why Withers needed a living in the first place was still a mystery), but he needed someone to threaten. He was terrified. 

“Astarion,” Halsin said, “I’ll need you to help me remove her clothes. Wyll, can you prepare some bandages?”

Wyll nodded and began to gather materials from Halsin’s bag. 

Astarion hesitated before unsheathing his daggers to help cut the leather armor off of your body. Halsin helped maneuver your limbs out of it until you were left in what once was a white shirt, now a deep red around your midsection.

“Her shirt as well,” Halsin said. “Your skill with a knife is far more refined than mine.”

Astarion frowned, knowing you’d probably hate being shirtless in front of everyone, but shook off the thought in favor of helping Halsin heal you. He quickly and carefully cut your shirt away from your body, depositing it on another mushroom nearby, and leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. The gash in your back was brutal, and rather than stare at it, Astarion took your hand. It was growing cold, but he could sense your blood still pumping beneath your skin. 

“She’s so weak,” he murmured. 

“She’s a fighter,” Halsin put a hand on Astarion’s shoulder before moving to mix some sort of elixir he had in one of the bowls he’d brought over. “My magic isn’t strong enough to heal her all by itself, not completely, but Oak Father willing, she’ll make it through this.”

“She better,” Astarion growled, still holding your hand, squeezing it harder than he knew he should. 

Halsin smiled faintly, then moved around to your head. He tipped your head back and made you swallow the contents of the bowl he’d just been mixing.

“And what-”

“That should keep her from waking up right away.” Halsin came back to stand behind you and examined the state of the axe.

“So, she won’t feel any pain?” Astarion asked.

“She shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” was all Astarion could manage to say, hoping that was enough to convey his gratitude to the druid.

Halsin nodded and motioned for Astarion to hold you in place. “Wyll, can you help with this?”

“Of course,” Wyll moved around the mushroom to hold you from the other side. 

“I’m going to remove the axe,” Halsin said. “She’s going to bleed more, but I should be able to stop it with what I’ve brought with me.”

“Enough talking,” Astarion held you tight. “Get to the healing part already!”

Halsin frowned, but nodded. “Steady now,” he said, placing his hands on the wooden handle of the axe. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Astarion snapped.

Halsin let out a calming breath before pulling on the axe. Everyone held their breath to make sure you didn’t cry out in pain. When you didn’t, Halsin continued, taking the blade out in one smooth motion. 

As he’d said, you began bleeding more profusely and Astarion let out a pathetic whining sound. Halsin immediately held out his hands, aqua healing magic surrounding you from both sides. Astarion couldn’t look away as your skin knit itself back together, a clear scar forming in its wake.

The aqua magic faded and Halsin instantly dipped his hand in some sort of salve and began rubbing it along your back. 

“Wyll,” Halsin said, handing him a bowl with an identical salve. “Please cover the wound on her stomach with this.”

“I’ll do it,” Astarion said, moving around the mushroom to your front. Wyll handed him the salve and he went to work spreading a generous amount along your stomach. 

“Sorry,” said Karlach, running up with a steaming bucket of water. “I was looking for where we packed all our towels.” She held up a few. “I found them.” 

“Thank you, Karlach,” Halsin said. “We can start cleaning the area around her wounds.”

Karlach bounced on her feet. “Um… I’ll incinerate her if I try to help with that.”

“I know what you can do,” Astarion said flatly, focusing deeply on globbing enough salve onto your stomach. He lifted his head and nodded towards the axe on the ground behind Halsin. “You can destroy that wretched blade.”

Karlach smiled and cracked her knuckles. “I’ll make it wish it was never fucking born.”

“Blades aren’t born, Karlach,” Wyll said, wiping blood away from your skin with the warm water she provided.

“And yet, this one will die a fiery death,” she smirked, flaring her flames menacingly. She took off, presumably to be as hot as she pleased without endangering others.

“Can one of you help me sit her upright?” Halsin addressed the two men still tending to you.

“Sure,” Astarion said, noticeably calmer now that you weren’t actively bleeding. “How are her, um… her innards?”

Halsin smiled. “If you’re referring to internal bleeding, the potion I gave her and the spell I cast should be enough to have stopped it. But she’s still very fragile. I’d imagine it will take her some time to fully recover.” He once again held out his hand and cast a golden spell from his palm like he had earlier. “Yes, the internal bleeding has stopped. Though I’d suggest not giving into any carnal desires until she’s completely healed.”

“Carnal- I don’t want to have sex with her like this!” Astarion looked offended. “Who do you take me for?”

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t think you would, but it still needed to be said.”

“Of all the-” Astarion narrowed his eyes but didn’t finish the thought. “You needed help getting her upright?” 

“Yes, she’ll need to be bandaged up. It’s possible she’ll bleed again depending on her movements in her sleep and various other factors, but she’ll also need to keep reapplying fresh salves to prevent infection and minimize scarring.”

Astarion nodded as Wyll finished washing away most of the blood on your back. 

“Let’s lie her on her back first,” Halsin said. 

Astarion and Wyll helped to gently roll you onto your back, and Halsin helped sit you up straight. Astarion came up quickly to place a gentle hand on your chest and another on your back to keep you upright as Halsin began to wrap bandages around your torso. 

Though your head was tipped forward in your unconscious state, Astarion whispered encouragements in your ear that Halsin and Wyll politely pretended not to hear.

“You’re going to be okay, my love. Soon I’ll get to look into your pretty eyes again and hear your lovely voice. Everything is going to be okay.”

~~~~~

Everything is going to be okay.

How could that be true when you were drowning?

Surrounded by inky blackness. Floating through nothingness.

Your limbs were heavy. And more than anything, you were tired. So, so tired. 

You’d messed up. You’d allowed yourself to fight, even though you knew you weren’t at your best, just because you didn’t want your friends to be upset. Right? They had been people you cared about? And now the last thing you remembered was being curled into someone’s side as they ran, presumably, to find help. 

Idiot.

You were an idiot. 

The person had looked so scared. 

This was all your fault. You hated being the one to cause a problem. You had to be good. You had to do everything right so no one would have to worry about you.

The person who’d held you so close and protectively shouldn’t have to worry about you. 

Whoever they were. 

You vaguely remembered saying something to them, but you couldn’t recall what it was or why you’d said it. You faintly remember making them snicker, at least.

You’re doing so well, darling. Hang in there.

It didn’t feel like you were doing so well. And yet the words filled you with comfort. Somewhere, a thousand miles away, you felt someone squeezing your hand. 

We’re going to move you now, but we’ll be gentle.

That was very kind of them. You were having trouble moving through this darkness. 

Easy, now. 

Was it possible to swim towards the voice? It sounded like it might be within reach, even though mere moments ago it had seemed incredibly distant and far-off.

You’ll be much more comfortable here, my love.

Though your head was filled with fog, something in your gut told you to go to the voice. You knew it was familiar, but you couldn’t make the connection. With all the strength you could muster, you kicked your legs as hard as you could and pulled yourself along with your arms. 

Don’t worry, my sweet, I’m not going anywhere.

Thank you, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t quite grasp the words.

Try as you might to swim towards the voice, it remained just out of reach, a wall of pain shooting through your abdomen whenever you got too close. 

I’m here, you tried to tell the voice. I can’t reach you.

Sleep now.

It hurts.

I’ll be here when you’re ready. 

Please.

~~~~~

Your sleep was fitful. It had taken about an hour before you’d started thrashing unconsciously and moaning in pain.

“Something’s wrong,” Astarion called, emerging from your tent. 

He and the others had moved you onto the makeshift mattress Wyll had created, and built your tent around you, next to Astarion’s. Or what would be Astarion’s; he had yet to set up his space, having spent all his time at camp so far by your side. 

Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae’zel had arrived at camp about half an hour after Astarion had rushed in with your unconscious form, all three covered in generous amounts of blood and gore. They had immediately asked after the state of you and were pleased to see you bandaged and sleeping soundly.

Now, however, that wasn’t the case.

Halsin and Shadowheart were quick to check on you. 

Shadowheart felt your forehead and frowned. “She’s burning up.”

“Likely fighting a possible infection,” Halsin hypothesized.

“Well, can anything be done?!” Astarion asked, taking his place next to you again and holding your hand in both of his. 

Halsin watched him carefully. “Actually, your cooling touch may bring her some comfort, Astarion.” He looked to Shadowheart, who nodded slowly.

“She needs to cool down. I’ll fetch some cold water, but Halsin is correct. You may be exactly what she needs. But don’t let that go to your head.”

“Of course I’m exactly what she needs,” Astarion puffed his chest, “but it’s nice to hear that that’s true in more ways than one.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes before leaving and muttering, “Why do I even bother?”

Astarion looked to Halsin. “She’ll be okay?”

Halsin smiled softly. “She’ll need water and nutrients to help fight the fever, but with you by her side, I presume she’ll be better in no time.”

“Right then, get out of here,” Astarion said, waving him away and looking slightly embarrassed. 

Halsin chuckled. “I’ll prepare some food for her.”

“Yes, go bother someone else with your sappiness.”

Halsin paused in the entrance of your tent. “Being vulnerable is not a weakness, Astarion. It’s quite clear how much you love her, and that’s incredibly-.”

“You need to leave,” Astarion snapped and dropped your hand, physically shooing a laughing Halsin out of your tent. “Be useful, why don’t you?” he called after him coolly as Halsin made his way over to where Gale was preparing tonight’s meal. The vampire closed the flaps of your tent firmly.

Love?

He shook his head. He was worried about you, yes, but that was because he… cared about you. More than he cared about anyone else at this freakish camp. And that was… fine. It was fine that he cared about you because you cared about him, too. And that was important because caring meant safety and protection.

Which is why he’d been so panicked about finding help for you! Obviously! If you weren’t around to protect him, who would? Not Gale, that’s for sure. No, Astarion was looking out for you for purely selfish reasons.

Right?

You made a tiny sound of discomfort and he was by your side instantly, holding his hand to your forehead, and then pressing both of his palms to your cheeks. He felt your body sag and watched the features of your face relax a little.

“There, now,” he cooed. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

He paused and narrowed his eyes in thought. 

That was troubling.

He refused to think any deeper on the subject. Instead, he undid all the straps and clasps of his armor, trying to be as quiet as possible as he removed it all, then placed it outside so it wouldn’t take up any of your space. Next, he rearranged some extra pillows that Wyll had brought by your tent to make a space where he could lie next to you. Once he’d done that, he removed his undershirt and laid next to you properly.

“Come here, my darling,” he said quietly, snuggling himself into your side. His body jolted reflexively at how hot your torso was, but quickly moved back into position and wrapped his arms around you as gently as he could. Your face scrunched in discomfort for a moment before settling into something akin to peace.

Astarion watched your chest rise and fall quietly, and let out a silent sigh of relief. One of his hands absently fiddled with the ends of your hair. You’d need a bath at some point. So would he, for that matter. You were both still covered in gore and filth, and some strands of your hair were bound together by enemy blood. Astarion didn’t much feel like licking it off of you or tasting their blood in any capacity, unless he could watch the life drain from their eyes as he drank them dry. But he’d hate every minute of it. He found your taste to be his favorite.

His favorite.

So, you were his favorite. Who cared! He knew it! Everyone at camp knew it! It didn’t need to be any deeper than that.

He exhaled through his nose. Being vulnerable was a weakness. Any of his siblings would tell you that. Show one shred of fragility towards anything and it would be torn away from you and exploited in any number of violent and cruel ways. He couldn’t let that happen to you.

“Can I come in?” Shadowheart’s voice was quiet, but loud enough to shake Astarion from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he answered.

She pulled back the flaps of the tent and paused, taking in the scene before her.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said slowly, entering the tent with a bucket of water and a few clean cloths. 

“Not at all, I’m simply taking advantage of this furnace,” Astarion gestured up and down your body. “The Underdark gets so chilly at night. Who knew?”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart nodded and felt your forehead before dipping a cloth into the water, wringing it out and placing it there. “You know,” she began, “and I hate saying this-”

“Do go on, then.”

“Ugh. I really hate saying this, but… she’s lucky to have you.”

“Shadowheart!” Astarion sounded quietly flabbergasted. “Do you mean it? Truly?” He was being overly dramatic and held a hand to his chest. 

Shadowheart avoided his gaze and dipped another cloth in the water. “I just mean…” She sighed. “I just mean, you make her happy, in your own annoying way. Even before you both started-”

“Holding hands?” Astarion batted his eyelashes.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes, but continued. “I don’t need to tell you how lucky you are to have her because I think you know that, but… You make her laugh. You encourage her to fight better, you steal lutes for her… And… you get her to be selfish. Which, while I don’t agree with all of your selfish suggestions, does cause her to think of herself every once in a while. Something that’s quite hard for her, as she so competently displayed for us today when she didn’t tell us how tired she truly was.” 

“She was a lost cause before I showed up.”

“Be serious for a moment, would you?” Shadowheart placed another cloth along your neck. “That’s something you both need to work on; being serious.” She held his gaze. “We almost lost her out there today. And I don’t think you’ve thought about what that would mean for you.”

“Of course I have,” Astarion snapped. 

Shadowheart raised her eyebrows. “Our Lady of Loss teaches that-”

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Astarion said sharply. “She’s fine now. Or she will be, assuming you and the druid are correct in your assessment of her condition.”

“Pain is a part of life, Astarion.”

“Don’t say that to me,” he snapped. “You know nothing of my pain.”

Shadowheart dabbed another cold cloth across your arm that wasn’t currently cradled into Astarion’s torso. “I know that. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” He was aware that he was mildly flashing his fangs in warning.

She dabbed some cold water over your shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. That's all I mean.”

“And what the hells is that supposed to mean?” Astarion narrowed his eyes. “Afraid of what?”

“You care for her.” 

“So what?” 

“You’re aware of that?”

Astarion trilled his lips in disbelief. “Of course I’m aware of that.”

“Okay,” she turned her attention to wringing a cloth of excess water.

If his arms weren’t currently wrapped around you, Astarion would have pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shadowheart, if you’re trying to tell me something, just tell me.”

“You’re allowed to love her.”

Astarion felt himself recoil away from Shadowheart, but he still held onto you. 

Shadowheart nodded calmly, searching his eyes. “We all see it. You haven’t known each other for long, but she’s changing you.”

Astarion gave her a sour expression but didn’t say anything to argue.

“She’s not what you expected, is she?”

“She-” he hesitated. “She’s not.” He looked at your slumbering face fondly. 

“I don’t think she’s what any of us expected.”

Astarion nodded, quiet for a few moments. He was too tired to pretend he was uninterested. “It’s a wonder we all found her,” he brushed a stray hair from your face. “Or, rather, clung to her. And in some cases, attacked her. Or threatened to.”

“It is,” she laughed softly. 

“Poor girl.”

Shadowheart smiled. “She saved me, up on the Nautiloid. She and Lae’zel broke me out of my pod. Though it was mostly her. Actually, it was all her.”

“That’s typical.”

Shadowheart laughed. “Very typical.” She shifted to face Astarion more directly. “We don’t know each other very well.”

“No.”

“And probably never will.”

“Fingers crossed.”

“But I know that you’re not the same person who held a knife to her throat a few weeks ago.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, I would.” Shadowheart gave him a piercing look. “A few weeks ago, you would have been fine letting her bleed out on that battlefield. You possibly would have laughed at the brutality of it. Or, you would have written it off as a fine dining experience. But the Astarion I’m looking at right now was ready to burn the entire world before he saw her suffer today.” 

Astarion’s grip on you tightened minutely.

Shadowheart sighed. “I don’t like letting others get too close to me either. Partly because that is the way of Lady Shar, and partly because I’m afraid of forgetting. Or remembering. I’m not sure which is worse, truthfully.”

“What does that-”

“It doesn’t matter. My point is, our leader here makes me want to remember. Remember our times together, her kindness… And how she makes me feel.” 

“Careful…” Astarion said slowly, narrowing his eyes but smiling slightly.

“She might be the only person I’ve ever considered to be a true friend. I think. But I know she’d do anything for any of us. And I want to remember that.”

“Okay, so commit it to memory?” Astarion was confused about all the talk of remembering. Surely Shadowheart’s memory wasn’t that bad.

“I’ll try,” she chuckled. Then, after a moment of quiet, she inhaled deeply. “All of this to say, Astarion,” she looked him in the eye again, “heartbreak is also a part of life. And while we’re lucky she’s still with us, you shouldn’t be afraid to love her. I think you want to live.”

~~~~~

Darkness.

All consuming and quiet.

But at least the pain had stopped. 

It was rather lonely here. Nothing to do and no one to talk to. Whenever you tried to move, the blackness that surrounded you gave little away as to whether you were actually moving or not. There’d been waves of extreme heat, bitter cold, and heavy nausea, and while none of that was particularly thrilling, it was nice to know that you could still feel something in this liminal space of sensory deprivation.

The voice would occasionally interrupt the profound silence to address you.

Come on, my sweet, eat just a little more. I know you can.

What are you dreaming about in there?

Are you going to wake up anytime soon, darling?

You didn’t know. No matter what you tried, it didn’t seem likely that you were close to leaving this place. And just when it felt like you were finally getting somewhere, the pain would overtake you again and stop you in your tracks. 

It was exhausting.

You felt someone squeeze your hand distantly.

Brought a book. 

Your head instinctively turned towards the voice.

Thought I might read to you. Since you’re doing an abhorrent job of entertaining me.

Something about the tone made you want to argue. You try… whatever this is! you wanted to say.

Thought this one might be fun. “The Curse of the Vampyre.” Maybe we’ll learn something.

Vampire… why did that word send your heart racing?

“Harken close and beware the Vampyr.” Off to a good start. “Beware its cold beauty.” True. “Beware its charm.” True. “Beware its curse.” ………True.  

Again, you had the overwhelming sensation that you knew this voice. The sense of comfort that washed over you felt all too familiar.

“How doth one protect from the beast?” When was this written? A pause, as if the voice were investigating. I’ve decided I don’t care. The voice cleared its throat. “Walk not in the blackest night, for the Vampyr loves these nights more than any other.” I was rather enjoying my time in the sun, actually. “If you must walk, do so by the light of our moon and take care.” What kind of advice is that? The moon? The moon and I get on just fine. That wouldn’t protect you, darling. “Carry the blessings and marks of your God at all times.” The voice snorted. Yes, because the Gods have cared so much about stopping my acts of debauchery in the past.

Something in the voice’s airy tone lifted an aching weight from your chest. Yes, you knew this person. You were sure of that. You could listen to them all day. Mindlessly, you drifted closer to where the voice was strongest.

“But remember, your home is your fortress, if protected well.” Hmm. “If you hear a knock in the night, be wary. Let no stranger into your home.” As if we make house calls these days. “If it be a friend, look upon them. Do you find them pallid and wan?” Rude. “See you any mark upon their neck?” Collars, darling. Though, I’ve found that most people don’t pay close enough attention anyway. Especially when you’re distracting them with- Well, you know. The voice exhaled loudly. “See you any dirt upon their clothes?” Yuck. “Unless their need is great, turn all away but the most trusted.” You trust me, don’t you, my dear?

Yes, you tried to say. Of course I trust you. 

The voice was growing louder. More clear.

Of course you do, the voice said, though you were sure it hadn’t heard you. Stupid. “And if the Beast finds a way into your home, flee.” I’d say that’s good advice, but unfortunately for you, you can’t really flee right now. And I don’t plan on leaving.

Good. You exhaled, frustrated that you couldn’t speak. 

The hand holding yours tightened mildly. 

I’m here, darling.

I know. Thank you.

It took a moment before the voice started speaking again.

“Lease love and family behind.” 

You felt an indescribable tension as the voice paused once more. Had this passage just said something important? You replayed the phrase in your head.

Family?

Love?

Love…

Oh.

The voice was quieter when it spoke again. 

“You will not save them if you fight. You will not see them again. But they will see you, pale and smiling, calling them into the night.”

Astarion. 

Of course it was Astarion. How could it be anyone else?

He was here. 

With you. 

Just out of reach.

Well, that’s a rather ominous passage, isn’t it?

Astarion! you tried to say. I’m here!

Shh shh shh, he tutted. Don’t strain yourself.

Something you had said or done had gotten through to him.

Astarion! you tried again.

Nothing. You were met with silence. 

Fuck it. Fuck the pain, fuck this freakish darkness. You pulled yourself towards his voice. 

Shall I continue reading, darling?

Yes, keep talking. You winced as a flash of pain pulsed through your middle.

I’m going to skip ahead. I hope you don’t mind.

As long as I can still hear your voice. The pain was becoming more consistent and noticeable.

Ah, this sounds rather interesting: “Vampiric Duality.” Ahem. “Now look, the thing is: your basic vampire has two instincts, right? Feed and make little vampires.” Immediately, a vastly different tone. Is this even the same book? The voice paused again, presumably to check the cover. I admit, I do love to feed, but I’m not sure how much this person knows about vampiric biology. Not that Cazador ever allowed us much research into the subject…

You felt yourself physically recoil at the mention of Cazador’s name and heard Astarion chuckle.

No, you’re right, darling, I won’t mention him again. He hummed and mumbled under his breath. Blah blah blah… “The personality of a vampire has as many facets as a schizophrenic diamond?” What? I appreciate the comparison to a diamond, obviously, but a schizophrenic one? What does that even mean?

You would have laughed if you weren’t actively fighting to get to him. The pain in your torso was almost unbearable, the closer you got to his voice. Tears pricked your eyes, and every part of you hurt like nothing you’d ever experienced before. When the torment started to become white hot and all consuming, you hit what felt like a physical wall.

Ah! Listen to this part, beautiful: “Yet who doesn't adore the darkly romantic complexity of the vampire-”

You did. You adored this vampire. Though you were hurting severely, you reached out and punched against the wall that was blocking you.

Astarion! you all but wailed.

“-the gusto of their love-”

Again, you pounded with all your might, screaming out in agony and rage as the pain physically held you back from reaching out and touching him. You still couldn’t see him, but you felt his presence. So, so close.

“-the wildness of their passion!” You heard him let out a delighted laugh. 

I’m here! you shouted, using both fists to bang against this wall of pure suffering. 

Oh, my dear, if you were awake, I’d shower you with the absolute wildness of my passion. You could practically hear his smirk. I’d demonstrate the gusto of my… well. My-

Gathering all the strength you had left, you wound back and threw your entire body against the wall. You squeezed your eyes tight as an overwhelmingly bright light spilled in and your ears began to ring.

You gasped for air, sitting up quickly, and immediately regretted it.

You heard your name said softly in disbelief and a book slamming shut.

“Ow…” you whined, clutching at your abdomen and feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

Before you could register what was happening, you felt cool palms on your cheeks and soft lips kissing all over your face. You blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. 

“I’m so mad at you,” Astarion said, still kissing your face, his voice filled with nothing but relief.

“What… happened?” you asked between hiccups of tears.

“Lie back down, precious,” he said, gently helping you back onto what seemed to be a pile of pillows and pulling a blanket over you. “You scared us, is what you did.” He wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks, but they kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. 

“Did I… die?” You turned your head to look around. It looked like you were in your tent, your things strewn about somewhat neatly and similar to how it had been at your camp by the lake. A few candles were lit. 

“Nearly,” Astarion confirmed quietly. He looked exhausted. “An undead Duergar got you with his battle axe.”

“Ah,” you said, at a loss for words. “That’s not good.”

Astarion stared at you. “‘That’s not good?’ That’s all you have to say?” He held a hand to your forehead briefly. “Your fever is gone, but it’s possible you’ve got brain damage.”

You chuckled, knowing he was kidding, but the action caused a searing pain in your stomach. You let out a pathetic whine, reaching for the hurt area, but Astarion caught your wrist. 

“Careful, darling. You’ve got a pretty severe wound there.” He released you and pulled back the blanket that was draped over you. Upon looking down, you saw that nearly your entire midsection was covered in bandages. A spot of red spread slowly, disrupting the otherwise pristine white of the cotton.

“It h-urts,” you sniffled, your voice breaking. 

Astarion’s eyes were full of sympathy. “Looks like sitting up quickly may have opened the wound again.”

“Should I go get Shadowheart?” you asked without really thinking about it.

Astarion snorted. “If you think you’re strong enough to fetch the cleric, you’re delusional.”

“Oh,” was all you could say in agreement. “Should you go get Shadowheart? Or Halsin, maybe?”

He shook his head, turning away from you to rifle through some supplies that were out of your line of sight. “Everyone’s asleep, my dear.” He sat back up straight and set out a few items next to you: fresh bandages, healing potions, a salve of some sort, and a small bowl of water. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you myself.”

You almost laughed. “How long was I out? What happened to you?”

He rolled his eyes. “You were out for nearly twelve hours, I’d say. It’s a little before dawn, I think. Though there’s no sun to go off of.”

You nodded, not sure how to feel about this information. Twelve hours was a long time. And yet it felt even longer. Like you’d been out for a lifetime. 

“As for what happened to me, well, someone I… care about… nearly died.” He cleared his throat. “Is it so bizarre that I want her to get better?”

You smiled. “I guess not.”

Astarion returned your smile before hooking his arms under yours and helping you sit up. Someone had stacked two chests on top of each other behind the makeshift mattress to act as a headboard, and he helped you scoot back to sit against it. 

“Careful, my sweet, the axe entered through your back. Let’s try not to lean and put pressure on it, hmm?”

You nodded, wincing when you moved incorrectly. “When did you become such a medical professional?”

He was busy prepping the new bandages. “Shadowheart showed me how to change the bandages once or twice while you were out, and Halsin provided the salves and potions.” Astarion got up onto his knees and crawled over to you, helping you scoot forward, away from the headboard. “And my sister, Dal. She was a doctor, before Cazador. She’d help the rest of us every once in a while. Especially when things got particularly brutal.”

“That’s much cooler than being a magistrate,” you teased, flinching a little in pain.

“I don’t know, magistrates can sentence people to death.” He squeezed your arm.

“No they can’t,” you laughed. Then paused. “Can they?”

Astarion shrugged. “Can’t remember, honestly.” He leaned forward to reach for where the bandage was tucked into itself on your front. “I’m going to undo this now, okay? Let me know if I hurt you at all.”

You nodded, holding his gaze.

“Oh,” he said before turning to grab a healing potion. He handed it to you. “This should help.”

You took it and downed it as Astarion began to carefully unwrap the bandages. You could feel the unpleasant sting of something having dried beneath the cloth that was now being tugged at as the bandage was unraveling. 

Astarion was nothing but complete focus as he reached his arms around you and back towards himself, carefully unwrapping you. You watched him the entire time. 

“I heard you, you know.”

He looked at you, the corner of his lips quirking up. “Heard me what?”

“When you were talking to me while I was sleeping.”

He went a little stiff at your words. “What exactly did you hear?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I heard you reading just now.”

His shoulders dropped in relief. “Horrid creatures, vampires.”

“The worst,” you agreed. 

Astarion pulled away the last of the bandage and you looked down, your eyes widening at the huge gash along the right side of your stomach. 

“And we’re sure I didn’t die?” you asked, cautiously poking the area around the wound. The healing potion had stopped the bleeding.

Astarion slapped your hand. “Stop that.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re still here with us. I would have killed Withers if that weren’t the case.”

“You can’t-”

“I know. But he would have gotten an earful at least.” Astarion crawled on his knees back over to the supply area that you previously couldn’t see. Now you could see that there were a few buckets of water with towels and cloths of various sizes. He dunked his hands into one of the buckets and lathered his hands with soap. 

“Thorough,” you commented.

“You already fought off one infection,” he explained. “Don’t want to risk another.” He finished washing and drying his hands, then made his way back over to you on his knees, careful not to touch anything on his way.

“I had an infection?” you asked, watching as he dipped a cloth in the small bowl of water next to you. 

“Yes,” he said, “or were fighting one off. Like I said earlier, you had a fever, but it’s gone now.” He brought the cloth up to your stomach. “I’m going to clean the wound now. It might hurt.”

You nodded and he began dabbing your skin lightly. He was right, it stung and pierced whenever he hit a particularly raw area and your body jerked despite attempting to stay still. Tears welled up in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion said, reaching up to wipe a tear away. 

“I’m the one who got cleaved,” you deflected. “It’s my own fault.”

“Which reminds me,” his face morphed from apologetic to irritated, “why didn’t you tell us you were so exhausted? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-” you squeaked at a particularly sharp pain. “I didn’t want you all to worry.”

Astarion’s hand paused and he narrowed his eyes at you. “Fine load of good that did, dear.”

“I’m sorry,” you looked away from him. “I didn’t know how involved the fight was going to be.”

“It doesn’t matter how involved the fight was or wasn’t going to be; if you weren’t feeling your best, you should have stayed behind and let one of the others take your place.” He sniffed pompously and added, “Would have given me an excuse to relax, too.” There was a sharpness to his words, but his actions remained careful and kind. You gave him a curious look and he rolled his eyes. “Oh, like I would go out and fight when I could laze about at camp for once.” He was suddenly very focused on not looking you in the eye.

You smiled. “You liiiiike me.”

“I’d have spent the entire time on the other side of camp.”

“Liar.” 

“The point is, darling, you have to listen to yourself and what you need. I do it all the time. For myself, I mean.”

“I know you do,” you chuckled. 

Astarion set down the wet cloth he was using and got a fresh one, before moving behind you to clean the wound on your back.“Why do you even care what we think?”

“Because you’re my friends, and I value your opinions?”

“No, I mean, why aren’t we allowed to be worried about you?”

“Oh,” you winced and flinched a bit at the cloth pressing against a tender spot on your back. “I don’t know. You all have your own problems to worry about. I shouldn’t be one of them.”

Astarion tsked. “I might be new to this whole ‘caring about someone else’ thing, but even I know how absurd that is.”

You tried to stay quiet, focusing on not moving to minimize the pricklings of pain shooting through your back. Yet despite your best effort, you still let out a few weak whimpers of discomfort.

Astarion sighed and moved away from you, back to the caché of supplies at the end of your bed. He came up with a steaming bowl of stew and reached across the bed to hand it to you.

“Careful,” he warned.

“How?” you asked.

“Halsin made soup. Gale knew a spell to keep it warm. This is the result.” He handed you a spoon. “We were able to get you to eat some while you were unconscious, but Shadowheart said you should eat properly whenever you woke up. I forgot until just now.”

“Thank you,” you said gratefully, shoveling some of the stew into your mouth. It was rich and heavy; full of meat and vegetables. Delicious.

Astarion took his place behind you again and went back to cleaning, but not before sighing dramatically. “Playing nursemaid is so far beneath me. I can’t believe you’re making me do this, you wretch.”

You swallowed some broth then said, “I offered to get Shadowheart.”

“Not a chance,” he growled in your ear, leaning around to kiss your cheek. “But if I ever have to do this again-”

“You’ll kill me?”

“Without a second thought, my sweet.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed through more food. “I think you’re enjoying this, honestly.”

“Seriously? When I could be out killing something? Or drinking from that gorgeous neck of yours? Or thoroughly ruining you? Nice try.”

“Are you hungry?” you asked, suddenly feeling very guilty for not thinking of him.

“This is what I mean, darling.” He sounded annoyed.

“What?”

“You are very weak at the moment. You lost quite a bit of blood from this wound, and you’re still offering to feed me.” 

“Because I want to help you! I have something you need and I lo-like you so much.” You caught yourself, but not very smoothly. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Flattered as I am, I know that drinking from you right now could be fatal. And I think you know that, too.”

You shoveled some more stew into your mouth shamefully.

“That’s all I mean, pet.” Astarion set down the cloth he’d been using to clean your back and moved around so he could look you in the eye again. “You’re incredible. You always want to help others, which, while I don’t personally understand it, is seen as very admirable to some people. But it gets you into trouble, and I don’t think you care that it does.” He took your chin in his hand to make you look at him. “But I care now. And I don’t want this to happen again.”

“I can’t help it,” you said quietly. 

Astarion pouted mildly with genuine sympathy and kissed you chastely. “Try.” He pressed his forehead to yours.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. “Besides,” his flamboyant cadence returned to make you laugh, “I already drained some poor beastie dry earlier while Shadowheart was changing your bandages.”

“Poor beastie.”

He kissed you again, more deeply this time. “It meant nothing to me,” he teased and you laughed. “It was purely for sustenance.” He nosed along your neck to his favorite feeding spot and kissed you there.

“I may never find forgiveness in my heart for this,” you teased back.

Astarion’s eyes went noticeably soft and a small smile tugged at his lips. His hands came up to your cheeks and he kissed you once more, tugging at your bottom lip with his front teeth. You matched his rhythm, moaning softly, and unconsciously rolling your hips, which made you cry out in pain.

“Bad idea,” you groaned, tilting your head away from Astarion’s eager kisses. 

He chuckled and rested his forehead on your temple. “You know, Halsin actually warned me not to ‘give in to any carnal desires’ until you were fully healed. I told him I wouldn’t.”

“And yet you did anyway?” you raised an eyebrow with a smile. “You selfish prick.”

Astarion tsked. “I’m not the needy one rolling my hips, now am I?”

“You bit my lip!”

“Call it… a vampiric sign of affection. Nothing more than that.”

You blew out an annoyed huff, causing a strand of hair in your face to fly upwards.

“I didn’t even draw blood,” Astarion said. “You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, thank you,” you rolled your eyes.

“But of course.”

“I so badly want to strangle you right now.”

Astarion growled from the back of his throat. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he said, kissing you again, despite your laughing protests.

“Would you please finish with this?” you asked, pushing him back and gesturing the undressed wound on your stomach. 

He groaned loudly. “If I must.”

“I can handle the front,” you said, nodding towards a bowl of salve, but not attempting to lean forward and grab it for fear of accidentally hurting yourself further.

Astarion hesitated in giving you the bowl, but quickly gave in. “Fine.”

“I’ll be careful,” you said.

He nodded once and took his own bowl of salve to spread on your back. 

The balm was cool and caused you to jump a little when it first made contact with your skin. Astarion paused his work to make sure you were alright. 

“I’m okay,” you assured. “Just cold.”

“You get used to it,” he smirked, globbing more cold substance onto your back.

Delicately, you took your own salve and began to apply a generous amount to your stomach. 

The two of you remained silent, locked in concentration as you administered the medicine to your wounds. It stung mildly, but the cooling effect it had became comforting soon enough. 

“So…” you broke the silence after you were satisfied with your work, “what did you do while I was… out?” 

Astarion exhaled through his nose and didn’t answer right away. “Oh, nothing special. A little of this, a little of that. My world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

“Sad,” you pouted, “because while I was unconscious, all I could hear was your voice.”

“Could you, now?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “I was all you could hear?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “Which means you must have spent a lot of time by my side.” You risked a glance over your shoulder and saw Astarion’s hand hovering just above your back, frozen in place. 

He cleared his throat and continued to apply the salve. “And so what if I did?”

“Well, it’s just that there’s so much else you could have been doing,” you chuckled. “Like killing, or maiming, or drinking, or stabbing-”

You stopped talking when you felt his forehead press against your bare shoulder. He mumbled something against your skin, but you couldn’t make it out.

“What was that, my love?”

He sighed heavily and pulled back. “I was scared.”

“You… were scared? You?”

“Of course I was scared!” he exclaimed, looking irritated and confused. “I may already be dead, but it’s not your time yet. I would never wish that on you.”

You weren’t sure how to process that. 

Astarion.

Scared, on your behalf.

You knew he cared about you, that was obvious by now, he’d told you as much, but that was a fairly recent development. In the past, he’d only cared enough to save his own skin. He’d always watched your back, sure, but there were days where you knew he’d only helped you or another companion because it had been convenient for him in some way. Although, you had to admit, since you two had become… whatever you were, he’d seemed to take extra precaution when looking out for you. Both in battle and out.

“Astarion,” you said slowly when he returned from behind you to grab the fresh bandages, “what happened when the zombies got me?”

He remained quiet, fiddling with the bandages in his hands. 

“I carried you here.”

“Where is ‘here,’ exactly?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Not too far from those horrid singing mushrooms. They were no help.”

Your eyes went wide, knowing how far the journey from the Myconid colony to the decrepit village was, and how he must have traveled further than that to get here. You shook your head, banishing the thought. “How did you get to me from your platform?”

Astarion came close and unwound the bandages in his hands again, making sure he had the right amount. “I may or may not have… gone into a blind rage, killed some dwarves, yelled at Gale… It was no big deal.”

“And then you… carried me.”

“Yes.”

“All the way here.”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“And then I helped Halsin with healing you. Why does it matter?”

“You…” You trailed off and allowed Astarion to start wrapping the bandages around your middle. Your eyes were unfocused on something in the distance and your mind was blank; too overwhelmed with thoughts to think anything at all. You shook your head to bring yourself back into the moment with him.

His voice was quiet. “I’ve been powerless far too often in my life. Seeing you go down, and not being able to stop it, it… broke something in me.”

You watched him carefully.

“If I was powerless in that situation, and you… If I’d lost you, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t lose me then,” you said, attempting to lift the mood while focusing on his hands.

He shook his head and paused with the wrapping. “Shadowheart said I was ready to burn the world. I think she was right.”

“I’m touched,” you joked again.

“I’m serious, darling.” He picked up where he left off with the bandages.

“You were that worried about me? Even though you were also surrounded by enemies?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not pleased about this turn of events. Normally, in a setting like that, I’d be mostly worried about myself. But lately I seem to somehow be worried about you more.” He hummed as if he were surprised to hear himself say that aloud. 

You brought a hand up to gently wrap around his forearm as he continued wrapping you up. He met your eye fondly.

“You give me something to care for. And that’s worth the peril.” He smiled at you for a moment, then pulled on the bandages to make sure they were tight enough. “Is this alright?”

Try as you might to not let him see, your eyes welled up with tears. “Fine, yes.”

“Oh gods, don’t lie, you’re crying!” He immediately began to loosen the bandages and you started laughing.

“No, no, dummy,” you wiped a tear and stopped his hands with your own. “I care about you, too.” 

“We’ve established that, darling,” but his eyes went soft. “Let me finish this, you sap,” he gestured to your bandages, still not properly secured, and you released his hands. He once again returned to wrapping the wound and pulled the bandages tighter, but not as tight as before. They were firm enough that they wouldn’t fall, and you could still breath easily, despite the mild ache that lingered in your stomach. He tucked the end into the top of the wrapping beneath your chest. “There now, my sweet. All patched up.” He brushed both hands through your hair before resting them gently on your shoulders.

You smiled at him, but something occurred to you upon hearing the affectionate nickname. “Is there a reason you haven’t called me ‘my love’ since I woke up?”

Astarion looked taken aback. “Erm…”

You were quick to explain: “It’s my favorite. That’s why I call you that, too.”

“Your favorite…” Astarion stared at you blankly for a second and his hands squeezed your shoulders absently.

You could practically see the cogs in his head turning. You brought a hand to cup his cheek. “If I did something-”

Astarion shook his head. “No, darling, you did nothing wrong. Other than almost getting yourself killed, I mean. It’s just that… I’m in the process of coming to terms with how I feel - about you.”

Oh.

Oh.

He’d thrown “love” and “my love” around so casually, practically the entire time you’d known him. Abruptly stopping their use was incredibly unlikely unless it was deliberate.

Did this mean he was starting to rethink those words? And what it meant to say them to you?

Did that mean he… loved you?

Your heart started pounding as a million jumbled thoughts entered your mind. It seemed like Astarion noticed the change in your pulse.

“If that scares you-”

“No!” You were grinning widely and tried to hide it behind your free hand. “Take all the time you need, my love.” You hoped calling him by your preferred pet name might convey how you felt, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You knew better than anyone how new this was to both of you.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hand and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Now lie down, would you? You need more sleep.”

You handed him your now empty bowl of stew. “But… I’m not tired.”

Astarion gave you a look as if to say really?

“I’m not! I’ve been sleeping all day!”

“And for good reason, might I add.”

The two of you stared at each other, willing the other to give in. Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, annoyed. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

“Carnal desires,” you reminded him in a scolding manner.

“I don’t plan on ravishing you right now, dearest,” he said, a bit of bite in his words. “If you’re not going to sleep, at least lie down with me.”

He moved the medical supplies off of the makeshift bed and blew out a few candles as he awaited your answer.

You nodded, a smile overtaking your features. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he said as he got onto the pile of pillows and placed his knees on either side of your hips. He took your arms and wrapped them around his neck.

“I know,” you said, using him as an anchor to lower yourself onto your back and further into the pillows.

When he was satisfied with your position, Astarion carefully lifted himself from hovering above you and transitioned himself to curl into your side. You stayed on your back so as to not jostle your wound, but turned your head to look at him. He watched you intently, his hands palm-to-palm and resting under his cheek. You ran your hand through his hair. 

“I couldn’t reach you,” you said.

“When?” Astarion lifted his head slightly.

“When I was sleeping. I could hear you, but I couldn’t see you. And it hurt to try and get to you.”

“Oh, my darling,” he said, running a hand along your cheek. “I’m here now.”

“I know,” you repeated, warmth overtaking your chest.

“Nervous it’ll happen again if you sleep?” he asked. When you nodded, he nodded back in understanding. “Nightmares are dreadful.”

“Any tips?”

“Hmm… not really.”

“Thanks.”

Astarion laughed softly and reached for your hand. “I’ll stay awake with you for as long as you need.”

“You need your rest, too.”

He clicked his tongue. “If you think I’m going out with the others tomorrow, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

You exhaled an amused breath and turned your head back up towards the top of your tent to sort through some of your many tangled thoughts.

While it was true that you and Astarion hadn’t known each other for very long, it floored you how much of a change you saw in him now versus when you’d first met. Back then, he was cruel, and violent, and prone to laughing at the misfortune of others. Now, he was still all of those things, but there was also this soft side of him that he continued to surprise you with. He’d actively chosen to stay by your side all day, even though he could have let the others handle your care. He probably would have opted for that option just a few weeks ago. He was also making the choice to stay at camp with you tomorrow, rather than venture out with the rest of your party to be rewarded by the Myconids for your efforts, and possibly spill more blood throughout the Underdark. Knowing how much he loved to spill blood, that was a big deal. 

He’d also shown you the most tender affection the first night you’d slept together and every heated encounter since; he was showing he cared in the ways he knew how. He was trying his best (for the most part), and that’s what mattered to you. Astarion could take all the time he needed to sort out his feelings.

But you knew how you felt.

“So other than the peril, are you enjoying the Underdark?”

Astarion groaned. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He let out a long exhale, the cool air of his breath tickling your neck. “You know, for all the time I spent lurking in the shadows, I’ve never ventured into the Underdark before.”

“So you’ve told me,” you squeezed his hand.

“Hardly a… luxurious setting, but it definitely has its upsides for a vampire.” 

You nodded, still looking up at the top of your tent. 

“Or its… undersides? Because it’s - you know what I mean.”

You snorted at his feeble attempt at a pun. “Boooo,” you teased and looked over at him.

“I’ve been awake for nearly 24 hours, need I remind you.”

“Then trance, idiot.” You poked his nose.

“I said I would stay awake with you.”

“I’ll be alright,” you insisted, “though I appreciate the offer, my love.”

Astarion blinked slowly, his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. It was as if he were finally allowing himself to relax, now that he was able to hear your voice again. He wore a lopsided grin as his eyes drifted closed. 

“I really did miss you,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“I missed you, too.” You brought your clasped hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you for saving me.”

He didn’t properly respond, and instead hummed out a sleepy acknowledgement. 

“You’re so heroic.”

“Mmm.”

“And handsome.”

“Mhm.” He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Thank you for staying by my side.”

This time he didn’t respond. He looked entirely peaceful and his lips were parted slightly.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” you laughed quietly, brushing a loose hair out of his face. “You should sleep though,” you said more to yourself than to him. “I can’t imagine how tired you must be.”

You watched his chest rise and fall with the unnecessary breaths he still took after all these years. You couldn’t believe that mere moments ago, he’d admitted that he was beginning to care more for your safety than for his own. Much less that he might even love you.

Astarion made a small sound, like a tiny grunt from the back of his throat that you’d come to learn meant that he was likely out cold. He rarely fell asleep before you did, given how little rest elves needed, which only further showed how exhausted he truly was.

“I love that noise,” you smiled. 

You turned your head back up to the top of your tent and sighed. “I love how funny you are. And I love how even though you’re incredibly intelligent, you’re the dumbest man I’ve ever met.” You looked back at him. His slumbering expression remained unchanged. “I love your eyes, and your ears, and the annoying way you put your hand on your hip when you think you’ve gained the upper hand in something.” You squeezed his hand ever so slightly and watched to make sure his features stayed even. “I love how kind you pretend you aren’t and how fiercely you deny it when I bring it up. I love your laugh, and how gently you hold me when you feed, and how you think about me when you could so easily think of yourself instead.” 

Again, you brought his hand up to your mouth and kissed his fingers.

“I love you, Astarion.”

You couldn’t be sure, but you swore you could see the slightest smile on his face as you felt your eyes flutter closed and you drifted into your own contented sleep.

[secrets-of-ty]

Danny Phantom Fanfic Masterlist

I've been meaning to do this for a bit! Since I've been in the Phandom for 10+ years I've picked up a lot of good fanfics over the years and I think it'd be great to share them again in case people have forgotten/haven't encountered them!

I mostly used Fanfiction.net in my older days so a lot of them will be linked there. I'm also pretty picky when it comes to fics being completed, so expect the ones listed to be bingeable with an ending! And finally, I'm not huge on romance/smut so most of them probably won't involve those genres, I'll point out ones that do. (These are in no particular order).

👻 Happy Reading! 👻

👻 = Regular Fic

🟢 = Alternate Universe Fic

⚔️ = Crossover Fic

💙 = Would Recommend!

💙💙 = One of my Favorites!

💙⚔️💙 Mirrored by Lynse

"As a general rule, diving into unknown swirly vortexes in the Ghost Zone is a bad idea, but this was a time when Danny had no other real choice. Meanwhile, Jake thought he was through dealing with ghosts, but Rotwood, well, he's just getting started."

I posted about this one a few years ago and the author, @ladylynse , said it's also available on AO3. This is by far one of my f a v o r i t e fanfics that I read annually or so! If you're a sucker for American Dragon too, definitely check this one out <3 The characterization of both Jake and Danny, plus watching their friendship grow, always gets me in the feels.

💙👻 Phantom's Sketchbook by AkoyaMizuno

"Mr. Lancer finds himself in an unparalleled situation, he has access to something which can give him incredible insight into the personal workings of Amity Park's local ghost teen hero, Danny Phantom."

It's been a while since I've read this one, but I remember it having a lovely characterization of Lancer plus his mentor relationship with Danny. (I loved this one a great amount back in the day that I, uh, made fanart and turned it in for a school assignment. Which is lost to the ages now 😅)

👻 Darkness by Cordria

"Maddie and Phantom are trapped in the dark. Can they come to an agreement to work together before they both die at the full moon? Part 1 of Illuminations Saga."

I don't quite remember this one but I DO remember Cordria had some absolute bangers. You'll probably see their name a few more times on this list.

💙👻💙 Masks by Cordria

"Sometimes, people hide who they truly are behind masks. This is a short story about the day that Lancer decides enough is enough when it comes to Daniel Fenton. Sequel is 'Plunge'"

When I said Cordria had bangers, THIS is one of them! Another fic that I read annually, this one involves Lancer getting closer and closer to Danny's secret while he's stuck in detention for the weekend. I love love LOVE the characterization of Danny and Lancer in this, another at the top of the favorite list!

👻 Plunge by Cordria (sequel to Masks ^)

"Sequel to 'Masks'. Now that Lancer has learned the truth and has let Danny out of his office, Danny needs to face the next hurdle: his parents."

For some reason, I always forgot to put this on my favorite list so I often missed out on reading it with my annual read of Masks. I remember it being a decent sequel where the Fentons pick up the pieces of Danny's reveal.

👻 Pits by Cordria

"Danny has been captured and thrown into the Pits by Walker to fight for his life. Listen in as he tells his dark, twisted tale of surviving despite the odds. Warning: dark and depressing. Sequel is 'Final Exam'."

Another one I don't fully remember, but it had to be a solid read since it's on my favorites haha! I have a vague sense that it was a little angst/gore-y(?) as the description warns, so just heads up!

👻 Lab Rat by AnneriaWings

"The look on my parents' faces – eager, curious, somewhat hateful – wasn't exactly hard to give away their intentions. I knew what they were going to do to me even before Mom snapped on a pair of rubbery, white latex gloves."

*** This one is definitely a vivisection fanfic with graphic descriptions, so beware that content. Again, haven't read it in a long time but it had satisfied my angst itch back in the day.

👻 Wondering by Phantomrose96

"A continuation to Cordria's starshot #69 "Wondering". Danny's been captured and tortured by his parents, but he refuses to say a word until his psychiatrist starts connecting the dots. Can he risk keeping it a secret any longer?"

*** Another angst, lab experiment-esque fic. There are definite graphic scenes (as warned in the first chapter). I do remember this fic being huge in the 2010s (definitely a staple of the Phandom). The relationships and Danny recovering from his torture were great highlights.

👻 Connections by Lynse

"Maddie knows that the Booo-merang has keyed into Danny, for whatever reason, so what's she to think when she sees it collide with Phantom?"

Don't quite remember this one, but Lynse is amazing at writing, so it's bound to be a good read.

👻 Confessions by Lynse (Sequel to Connections ^)

"Follows Connections. Danny's secret's not as safe as he thinks, what with Maddie unable to ignore her wild suspicions any longer and piecing things together and Jack asking questions all on his own."

Same as above!

💙👻 Earthquake by Turkeyhead987

"Danny leaves with his bathroom excuse and leaves Dash curious. He follows Danny and ends up the the gym room with him. While they're in there, an earthquake occurs and leaves them trapped inside. Will any secrets be revealed? No DashxDanny! They're just the main characters!"

This one is another one that I've read multiple times over the years! From what I remember, it was a fun read involving Dash and Danny being trapped in the gym after an earthquake, and explores how Danny handles his secret around Dash while they wait for rescue.

💙👻 A Jock and a Hard Place by AnneriaWings

"Danny and Dash were silent, trying to wrap their mind around that stupid, simple fact – the door was locked. They were trapped. In a janitor's closet. Together. (Collab with Haiju)"

No romance in this one! Another story where Danny and Dash get trapped together. I've read this one several times, and remember enjoying the tension of Danny's secret being revealed. I also think they explored Danny and Dash's relationship in a fun way!

👻 An Unlikely Alliance by Represent

"Maddie wants her family back. In an attempt to understand her Danny's change in behavior, she unwittingly enlists the GIW to exorcize Phantom from her son."

Gonna be real with ya'll, I don't remember this one at all. But uhhh I'm gonna throw it on here just because I can. :)

👻 Flip Turn by dreamsweetmydear

"Danny's life the last couple of years has been chaotic and pretty scary, to say the least. However, one detention with Mr. Lancer opens a window of opportunity that promises to turn his life around in more ways than one. Revelation fic. Post-"Kindred Spirits.""

Yet again, I don't remember this fic. Sorry! But it's under 8000 words, so it's a little bit of a shorter read than some of the ones on this list!

👻 Journey of Secrets by WolfKael

"First Danny Phantom fic! DXS, TXV, but not super-heavy. Lancer's class is on a trip to the Ghost Zone, courtesy of the Fentons! (Takes a couple chapters to gain momentum, and I promise it isn't your average 'field trip' fic!) T because I'm paranoid, but it could probably be K ."

Also not a fic I remember. It's got about 50,000 words so thought I'd throw it in for anyone that likes a longer fic!

👻 Vulnerable by HaiJu

"A desperate moment leads to a difficult choice, and Danny must deal with the consequences. A collaboration between Anneriawings and Haiju."

Don't remember it, but HaiJu had/has some great fics! Seems to involve Danny and Maddie after skimming the first chapter.

👻 Little Fires by Represent

"My family's supposed to be geniuses, yet they've never figured it out. Now I know why. Because they already know I'm Phantom. They must know. The better questions are: Have they known this whole time? What's in that vial? What happened to Skulker? And what's in the locked drawer?"

You know what, if I remember it, I'll say something 😂

👻 Judge, Jury, Executioner by Cordria

"The Observants and the Ghost Council are sick of the Fentons creating half-ghost creatures that disobey the rules of the universe. It's time for them to step in before more are made. Can Danny save his parents and keep his secret intact? A three-part fic."

💙👻 A Phantom Marooned by LordPugsy

"No one but Danny was suspicious when his English class was awarded an all-expenses paid cruise trip by an anonymous benefactor. Everyone but Danny thought it was bad luck when they became ship-wrecked on an island in the middle of nowhere. No one but Danny fully understood the dangers lurking in the trees. No one but Danny knew how much danger they were all in so far from home."

This one involves Danny and his class getting out of Amity Park, so it's a little more oc-filled and explores a nontraditional setting for the trio. There might be a little SamxDanny in this one if I remember correctly, but overall I do remember having fun reading through this!

🟢 Candlelight by HappyLeif

"Sam's only friend is the ever-loyal Tucker, ever since Danny began slowly distancing himself from them after some accident freshman year. She wanted a friend, but she never thought she'd find the one she was looking for in the highly debated ghostly hero of Amity Park.

AU = Danny alone during the portal accident. Looks like there's some SamxDanny in this one! Don't remember it but heck I might have to reread it since the synopsis has me interested.

👻 Crashing and Burning by GriffinRose

"For two years, Maddie has put up with Danny's ridiculous lies and excuses. She's tried everything to get through to him, but the pattern just goes on. She's so tired of fighting him on this all the time. And so, after two years, she's done. She doesn't care what her son does anymore, because Danny doesn't seem to care that he's her son."

👻 I'll Be Here by HaiJu

"Some days you can't pick yourself up. Having family means you don't have to. Danny-centric, three oneshots. Completely shameless hurt/comfort. Bring tissues… and antiseptic."

👻 What Little Girls Are Made Of by HaiJu

"Phantom and his younger double save Amity Park from a monstrous ghost, nearly destroying themselves in the process. The Fentons have always hunted ghosts; now it's time to save one."

💙👻💙 You Should Be Dead by SaphireDragon11

"Dash and Kwan are horrified to discover they've accidentally killed their classmate, but perhaps even more so when he shows up at school the next day. With his secret on the line, Danny soon discovers Dash and Kwan are the least of his worries."

THIS story is definitely a favorite and fun read! The ending battle chapters always gets me excited to reread! ***Danny does get straight up shot by Dash at the beginning so be warned for that content. But I remember a post going around a year or so ago where someone had drabbled about Danny getting up after being shot by Dash. This story explores that concept with a longer plot!

💙👻💙 Roughing It by HaiJu

"Lost deep in the woods with an undead pack on their heels, Maddie and Phantom find themselves entangled in an awkward alliance. Can they cooperate long enough to get out of this mess?"

Another favorite! This one explores Maddie and Danny's relationship, kind of similar to how the show did in the Maternal Instincts episode. I adore how HaiJu explores Maddie's thought-process with dealing with Phantom in a situation where she kind of needs him and he won't leave her alone. Great mother-son fic!

👻 Phantom of Truth by Haiju

"Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her subject, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth... except, perhaps, herself."

Haven't read this one in a loooooong time, but I remember being around for HaiJu updating this fic, posting about it on Tumblr, and the Phandom being generally hyped for it. Another staple for the Phandom! It's another torture fic, so heads up regarding that content!

💙👻 Shadow of a Doubt by Haiju (Sequel to Phantom of Truth ^)

"The truth was supposed to save Danny. Fix things. The lab, the experiments, the lies, those were all in the past. Weren't they? Sequel to Phantom of Truth."

And then BAM on top of finishing Phantom of Truth, HaiJu hit us all with a completed sequel! I was super excited whenever this fic got updated, felt like I was waiting for a new episode to air on TV every time! There's some OCs in this since it explores Danny running away from Amity, but I remember genuinely loving the OCs and loved reading about Danny mentally recovering from being experiment on.

👻 Just a Boy by Tay1019411

"Maddie and Jack finally have Phantom right where they always wanted him: in there lab, helpless, but everything is different now. Now, Maddie faces the truth about what Phantom really is."

🟢 Make It Go Away by DarkNymfa

"Not for the first time, Danny cursed himself for never telling anyone about his extra-curricular activities. And now, far more injured than he could fix himself, Danny desperately wished that he had told just one person."

No one knows AU

👻 Flicker by DarkNymfa

"It had taken just one moment, one split-second in which she had seen Phantom instead of Danny. Now she found herself on a path she didn't want to be on. One she couldn't leave, not anymore."

👻 The Scientific Method by ReconstructWriter

""After two years of failures you'd have better luck asking Phantom to be your lab-rat," Jazz said. The Fentons decide to try just that."

👻 Phantom Hitchhiker by ghostanimal

"Phic Phight Oneshot: While students get to leave early after a ghost attack, teachers have to stick around for boring meetings to discuss the attack. The ghost attack was now over, but it didn't mean all the ghosts were gone. Lancer finds himself driving a certain Phantom home while reflecting on how young the poor kid is."

👻 Returning After the Reveal by Illusn

"Phic Phight attack, using a prompt by Love-ly-ish. Danny returns to school after his secret was revealed in a ghost attack, having to deal with people suddenly treating him differently."

👻 Vantage Point by Lynse

"Phantom was young. Painfully young. Somehow, Lancer had never really noticed that before. One-shot, written for the 2019 Phic Phight."

👻 Oddities by Lynse

"Jack can't deny that their ghost hunting equipment malfunctions around Danny-consistently and exclusively around Danny-and decides to get to the bottom of it, once and for all. One-shot, written for the 2019 Phic Phight."

👻 To Be a Hero by cosette141

"Danny has always known the consequences should he be captured by the Guys In White, but now Tucker is going to learn firsthand just what the stakes are for his superhero friend and what it really means to be a hero. (not slash) hurt/comfort"

👻 Family Reunion by Dp-Marvel94

"For Phango. Prompts used- Setting: Family Reunion, Wes Weston, Aunt Alicia, Stuck in the thermos. And Identity Reveal…kinda (does it count if Wes had already worked out that Fenton was Phantom but hadn't seen him actually transform so wasn't completely sure?)"

Wes Fic!

👻 Stuck by SummersSixEcho

"[OneShot] After a prank from two of his ghostly acquaintances, Danny is stuck in ghost mode during one of the most important events of his young half-life. If only he didn't have to give a speech on top of it... [Phic Phight 2020 entry; prompt by Ghostanimal]"

👻 One-Eighty by SummersSixEcho

"[One Shot] After a grueling battle, two teenagers at a diner try to sort out a night of revelations. [DannyMay 2020, Day 28: Diner]"

👻 Threads of Time by ZombieRed

""I just want to know what's going on with you, Danny! I wish I could just, I don't know, spend the day figuring out what you've been hiding from me. Then maybe I could help you. But you being closed off from everyone is only hurting you. Can't you see that?" Or Maddie keeps on waking up to Thursday morning [No PP, pretty much ignores season 3 as a whole]"

👻 Invisible Stitches by Lynse

"Family bonding time might be less dangerous now that his parents know his secret, but that doesn't mean Danny is wild about being kept in the dark when it comes to his dad's plans for the weekend. One-shot."

Loved the concept of Danny having trouble being away from Amity Park!

👻 Whenever You're Ready by SummersSixEcho

"[OneShot] Jack and Maddie try to show their son they are very supportive of Phantom once they find out his secret. They want him to tell them on his terms, but everything ends up in bigger misunderstandings and more revelations they weren't prepared for. [Belated Phic Phight entry for Star G, Arioz, Bird, Dekalkomania, and Wife]"

Written in a Journal-Entry style! Interesting format if I remember correctly.

👻 An Attempt at Camping by Seasilver17

"They should have known that even when they were in the middle of nowhere camping. Something would have to go wrong. Curse his Fenton luck"

👻 Secrets Secrets and Advice (This Teacher's Vice) by AppleScentedLazers

"After a particularly grueling day Mr. Lancer just wants to go home, kick up his feet, and read some Shakespeare. But, when he runs into two of his students looking for their missing best friend, Lancer ends up with more questions than he has answers for. Such as, who is Phantom? And just what is Daniel Fenton hiding?"

👻🟢 Going Ghost by cosette141

"My take on the moment Danny turns on the ghost portal and becomes half-ghost… as well as an alternate way for Sam and Tucker to find out. Friendship Oneshot"

👻 Lair by Lexosaurus

"When something goes wrong with a piece of Vladco tech, Valerie ends up stuck in the Ghost Zone. With Phantom."

💙👻 In Case of Emergency by Unlucky Alis

"Lancer is grading papers when he gets the call. "I'm calling from Amity West. I have an underage patient here who has named you as their emergency contact." Lancer rushes over, of course, fretting all the while about what accident Danny Fenton has gotten himself into now, because it could only be him. Except, when he arrives, it's not the Danny he expected to find."

I remember enjoying the little twist on Lancer being the emergency contact for Phantom yet having no idea. Lancer handles it pretty well all things considered. (I think you guys can tell I just like Lancer fics at this point HA)

👻 Furthest from Myself by WastefulReverie

"An accident during a ghost invasion leaves nearly a hundred citizens with inexplicable ghost powers. Little did they know, this was only the catalyst for a series of revelations."

👻 Ghost Smarts! by Dekalkomania

"When it becomes clear the ghosts are here to stay, the Amity Park school district decides they need to teach proper safety precautions. In dire need of extra credit, Danny takes Mr. Lancer's offer to be the assistant in an assembly titled, "Ghost Smarts!"

Very unprepared for what he signed up for, Danny must deal with the eccentric detective J.J. Bittenbinder, all while not blowing his cover."

[mrsshabana]

𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Your body is at its breaking point, and the full moon isn't even over yet. All you hope is that you can make it through the night. But even if you do, things between you and Gyutaro will never be the same. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, hunter/prey, size difference, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, biting/marking, knotting, pregnancy ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.1k words

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter one ⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist

Panic begins to set in as you realize the situation you're in. If he stays inside of you like this, there's no doubt that you'll get pregnant. That is the whole point of a knot after all.

His body presses down on you but you try your best to wiggle away without hurting him, moving your hips in an attempt to slide him out.

Gyutaro begins to snarl behind you, his claws digging into the ground beside your face.

His growls only intensify the more you move.

"O-Ok Gyu, I'm sorry... I'll stop," you whimper. Feeling afraid that you angered him, so not wanting him to lash out you stop moving completely.

But instead of trying to remove him from your sore cunt, it seems your movements had an adverse effect. As you swear you can feel him expanding even more inside of you. The way you wiggled around beneath him only made him hornier.

He begins bucking his hips, desperately trying to bully his cock deeper inside of you. But it's already stretching you past your limits, unable to go any deeper. Getting frustrated, his thrusts intensify. He wants to fuck you again so bad, but his knot won't allow him to pull back so he can plunge into you again. Only able to nudge against your tight walls, barely catching the friction he desires.

But the way you squeeze around his growing knot makes up for the lack of friction. Feeling the way you tightly clench around him makes him go insane, his cock already twitching in preparation for shooting another heavy load inside of you.

You hold onto his wrists as his body rocks on top of you. Trapped beneath the weight of him, there isn't much you can do. A moaning and quaking mess as he ferociously tries to breed you once again.

Your stomach already feels impossibly full, you know you can't take anymore. "G-Gyu please... ah, I can't! No m-more!" you beg.

But your pleas go unheard as he's already past his breaking point. His hips pushed so hard against your ass that you legitimately think it might bruise.

His body shudders and he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You feel the pressure inside of you increase as he fills you up even more. Satisfied whines escape him, echoing off of the cave walls.

The pressure gets unbearably uncomfortable to the point where you can no longer move. Gyutaro gently nuzzles against you and licks the back of your neck, being sweet and affectionate as if to tell you that you did a good job. That you're such a good girl for him.

He's so busy giving you affection that he doesn't even realize you've already passed out. Eventually, his knot deflates and he can safely slide out of you.

Feeling a deep connection after what the two of you just shared, Gyutaro holds you against his chest and caresses you in his arms. Giving you soft licks and kisses on your face until inevitably falling asleep as well.

༶•┈┈⛧┈┈⛧┈┈•༶

As the full moon sets, the sun begins to rise - waking Gyutaro from the peaceful slumber he was in.

It's hard to explain but he wakes up feeling complete. Like last night he found a piece of himself that he didn't know he was missing. He feels lethargic, but really happy and calm at the same time.

Before he can even look around at his surroundings he picks up on an unusual scent. The scent of mating - he reeks of it.

And that's when he finally notices you lying beside him, and all the memories from last night come flooding back. Now that the full moon has passed, he can think rationally. Deep down he feels so guilty about what happened, but he can't help but feel ecstatic that he finally made you his mate.

Sex is very different for humans than it is for werewolves, it's not as meaningful and symbolic. Werewolves typically don't mate with just anyone, it has to be someone they feel a special connection to. Someone who they are ready to spend the rest of their lives with. And Gyutaro didn't need to know you for very long to know that you were the one for him.

The urge to make you his mate was so hard to hold back, but he did it for you. But when the full moon came he gave in to his primal urges and claimed you as his. He feels a sense of fulfillment and bliss knowing that he can call you his mate.

"Y/N..." he whispers, nudging your shoulder.

You don't budge so he starts licking your face, his tail wagging excitedly behind him. That cute golden retriever energy finally showing through now that the full moon is gone.

"C'mon Y/N! Time to wake up!"

The wet tongue gliding across your face finally wakes you from your slumber. "Ngh... Gyu?" You rub your eyes, making sure that he's actually real.

"Yeah, who else would it be?" he smiles. You can't help but stare at that quirky smile full of sharp teeth, those fluffy black ears, and that happily wagging tail. Everything that makes him different, everything that you love so very much about him.

So happy to see him back to his old self, you hug him tightly, feeling like you could cry.

He possessively wraps his arms around you, "I'm sorry about last night, I wanted our first time to be more tame since you're a human..."

"I-It's ok," you mutter, "I liked it..."

His eyes widen, "You did?"

"I did," you nod, "It was scary at first, but I knew what I was getting into when I chose to be with you."

"Y/N... you know I love you, right?" He grins and hugs you tighter, "We'll have to do it again after the pups are born."

"I love you too Gy- wait... the what?"

"Haha, don't act surprised! Do you really think there's a chance you aren't pregnant after last night?"

You're at a loss for words, the thought of actually getting pregnant by a werewolf feels so foreign to you. But he's right, it shouldn't be unexpected after what happened.

"Don't worry, Y/N," he smirks, "You're gonna look so pretty with my pups inside of you... I can't wait to get you pregnant over and over again."

[03jyh23]

🌊⌇such a lonely heart┆kim hongjoong

married, hongjoong x gn!reader

│synopsis: if you can't find another reason to stay, then i know i'm gonna always have a lonely heart

│genre: hurt no comfort, angst

│trigger warnings: emotional distress, heartbreak, relationship conflict

│words: 4.1 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! it feels like forever since i last posted, and oh god, i’m so happy to be back! my hiatus ended up lasting much longer than i intended, and coming back after such a long time is honestly nerve-wracking. this piece of writing took me a long time to complete, but i’m really proud of it. once again, it’s a hongjoong angst with a personal touch, and i think hongjoong will always have that cathartic role in my stories. i hope you guys can feel the emotions i’ve woven into it. thank you for sticking with me—i can’t wait to hear what you think.

love, mon ♡

It was late Thursday night. You were curled up on your bed, blanket wrapped tightly around you, staring blankly at the wall. It was unbearable. Was your mind numb, or was it so full of thoughts that they all clashed together, making you feel overwhelmed and empty simultaneously? You let yourself break again, letting the flood of thoughts and feelings consume you whole. You were drowning, unable to stop the spiral of despair that clawed at you. 

Eighteen times. 

Hongjoong ignored your calls eighteen times tonight. 

And that was your breaking point.

You felt the weight of each ignored call like a stone in your chest, pressing down, making breathing hard. The silence from his end was deafening, drowning out even the sound of your own heartbeat. You wondered, with a bitter taste in your mouth, if this was what it felt like to be truly alone. It wasn't anything new, you spent your nights alone, most of them sleepless as the lack of warmth in your husband's body made it impossible to get some rest. After tossing and turning, you would eventually catch a few hours of sleep, only to wake up in an empty bed. The routine had become painfully familiar. The cold sheets on his side of the bed were a constant reminder of his absence. You'd reach out, hoping against hope, but your fingers would only meet the cool fabric, untouched and undisturbed. 

Anyone would have thought you'd get used to it by now - Hongjoong leaving early for his office and coming back too late to spend time with you. But he would always text that he was doing extra hours or going out for a beer with friends. Tonight, however, was different. There was only radio silence. And nothing hurt more than the quiet. The absence of his usual messages left an ache in your chest that you couldn't ignore. You found yourself checking your phone obsessively, hoping for any sign of communication. But the screen remained stubbornly blank, a stark reminder of the growing distance between you. 

As the hours ticked by, your mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Was he okay? Had something happened? Or was this simply the new normal - a silence that spoke volumes about the state of your relationship? 

The sound of the door creaking open finally pulled you from your thoughts. Through the narrow gap between the door and its frame, you saw a thin line of light, and then your eyes drifted up to see your husband. Hongjoong stepped into your shared apartment, his ginger hair damp from the rain. He ran his hand through it, pushing the wet strands away from his face, before peeling off his soaked beige coat and slipping off his shoes. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat at the sight of him, tears prickling your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, gripping the blanket tighter as if it could shield you from the wave of emotions crashing inside you. The fabric pulled up to your chin, a flimsy barrier between you and the ache that had settled deep in your chest. 

The light went out as Hongjoong moved further into the apartment, past the door of your bedroom without a word. He didn’t even glance in your direction. What was wrong? Or was he simply trying to avoid waking you, assuming you should be asleep instead of quietly falling apart? One way or another, it was far too late for him to walk back in like nothing had happened. The silence that followed felt colder than before, sinking into your already worn-out body. 

You could hear him in the living room, the soft rustle of the wardrobe doors opening. Was he planning to sleep on the couch again tonight? You untangled yourself from the blanket, standing quietly before slipping out of the bedroom. The weight of exhaustion and frustration clung to you as you made your way to the kitchenette. You didn’t want to fight. Not tonight. You poured yourself a glass of cold water, grabbed the bottle of painkillers from one of the drawers, and swallowed a couple of pills, hoping they’d dull the throbbing in your head. You glanced at Hongjoong as you set the glass down. He had stopped mid-motion, his hands frozen on the pillow he was arranging on the sofa. Your eyes met briefly, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. As you had guessed, he was indeed preparing to sleep on the couch tonight. The realization sent a fresh wave of pain through your chest. You averted your gaze, unable to bear the weight of his silent stare any longer. The distance between you felt insurmountable, even though you were just a few feet apart in the same room. 

You stood in the dim light of the kitchen, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you tried to steady your breathing. Then, the words you’d been holding back for too long slipped out before you could stop them. "Where were you tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unanswered calls and unread messages. 

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before continuing. "I called you eighteen times, Hongjoong. Eighteen. And not once did you pick up or call back. What's going on?" Your eyes met his again, searching for any sign of explanation or remorse. "Are we... are we okay?" The last question came out softer, more vulnerable, betraying the fear that had been gnawing at you all night. The words felt like they had a life of their own, carrying the weight of nights spent alone, of unanswered calls, and of the slow unraveling of something you once thought was unbreakable. You didn’t dare turn around, didn’t want to see the look on his face. Whether it was guilt, anger, or indifference, you couldn’t handle any of it. 

The silence stretched longer, and every second that ticked by only made your heart sink deeper. 

Finally, you heard him shift behind you, his footsteps hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach the fragile moment. The tension in the room felt suffocating, but you stood your ground, gripping the counter tighter, waiting for him to say something—anything—to break the silence. 

But nothing came. 

Tired. You were both tired—of the silence, of the distance, of pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep this up, but at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to do anything more than stand there, waiting for an answer that might never come. 

You didn’t turn around as you felt his presence behind you, the warmth of his body radiating in the small space between you. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something, to explain, to apologize—anything to break the suffocating silence that had enveloped you both. One of your hands traveled to your temple, trying to massage away the pounding headache that wouldn’t relent, as if easing the physical pain might somehow dull the ache in your heart too. 

The silence dragged on, and you could feel him standing there, just out of reach, but still not saying a word. It was suffocating, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts, unresolved arguments, and the growing distance that neither of you seemed able to close. 

"I kept waiting. Waiting for you to call back, to walk through the door, to say something—anything." you continued, voice trembling as you let your hand fall from your temple, now gripping the edge of the counter again.

Hongjoong let out a breath behind you, but it was small, almost inaudible. You could sense his guilt, but guilt alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap. "I didn’t know what to say," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper, and you could hear the weight of his own struggle in it. 

"You didn’t know what to say?" You turned around slowly, finally meeting his eyes. Your own were burning, a mixture of exhaustion, anger, and desperation swirling together. "Do you think that makes it any better? That just... ignoring me was the right thing to do?" 

He looked down, running a hand through his damp hair again. His hesitation was killing you. You needed him to fight for this, to fight for you. 

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Hongjoong's eyes finally met yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. 

"Are you giving up on us?" The words tumbled out of your mouth, raw and vulnerable. Your eyes searched his face, desperate for any sign that he still cared, that there was still something worth fighting for. 

Hongjoong's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a flicker of pain crossing his features. For a moment, he looked as lost and scared as you felt. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken fears and fading hopes. "I..." he started; his voice barely audible. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. "I want a divorce, Y/N," Hongjoong finally said, his voice cracking slightly as he forced the words out. 

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you gasping. Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his face for any sign that this was some cruel joke. But all you saw was a mixture of pain, guilt, and resignation in his eyes. 

"What?" you whispered, barely able to form the word. Your hands gripped the counter behind you, needing something solid to hold onto as your world crumbled around you. 

Hongjoong took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words was physically pulling him down. 

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. All those ignored calls, the nights spent alone, the growing distance - it all suddenly made sense in the worst possible way. The realization hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you struggling to stay afloat in the sea of emotions threatening to drown you. 

"A divorce?" The word felt foreign on your tongue, heavy and bitter. You shook your head, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. "How... how long have you been thinking about this?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of your shattered world. 

Hongjoong's eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and sadness as he answered, his voice low and strained. "For a while now... I've been trying to find the right moment, but there never seemed to be one." He paused, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that once seemed endearing but now felt like a painful reminder of what you were losing. 

The words hit you like a physical blow, and suddenly, all the pain and frustration you'd been holding back came rushing to the surface. Your eyes flashed with anger as you stepped towards him. 

"Empty promises," you spat, your voice quivering with emotion. "Is that what our vows meant to you? Because I meant every single word, I said on our wedding day!" Hongjoong flinched at the intensity of your words, but you couldn't stop. The floodgates had opened. "I said I wanted to spend forever with you, Hongjoong. Forever! And I meant it with every fiber of my being. But for you? Were they just pretty words to say in front of our families and friends?" Your voice cracked, tears streaming down your face. "I promised you my life, my love, my everything. And you're throwing it all away like it meant nothing. Was any of it real for you?" 

The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with the weight of broken promises and shattered dreams. 

Hongjoong's shoulders slumped, his eyes cast downward as if he couldn't bear to meet your gaze. The weight of your words hung in the air between you, a tangible reminder of the promises made and now broken. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of regret and resignation. "It was real," he said, his voice barely audible. "But sometimes... sometimes love isn't enough." He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "We've grown apart, Y/N. We're not the same people we were when we made those vows." 

"Don't bullshit me now, Hongjoong! It was two years ago! Two years!" Your voice rose, trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Why did you even bother to fucking marry me if you were going to give up so easily?" Your words echoed in the small space between you, raw with emotion. Your hands were clenched at your sides, your whole body shaking with the force of your outburst. The tears that had been threatening to fall now streamed freely down your face. You searched Hongjoong's face, desperate for any sign that this was all a mistake, that he didn't really mean what he was saying. But all you saw was a mixture of guilt and resignation in his eyes, and it only fueled your anger and hurt more. 

Hongjoong took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of sadness and determination. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly am. I didn't marry you with the intention of giving up. I thought... I thought we could make it work. But we've changed, grown apart. The passion, the connection we once had... it's not there anymore." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I've tried, we've both tried, but it feels like we're just going through the motions. Don't you feel it too? The distance between us, even when we're in the same room?" His voice softened, a hint of vulnerability seeping through. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I realized that staying in a marriage that's lost its spark would hurt us both more in the long run. You deserve someone who can love you fully, completely. And I... I'm not that person anymore." Hongjoong's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued, "I know it's not fair. Two years isn't a long time, but it's been long enough for me to realize that we're not making each other happy anymore. And isn't that what marriage should be about? Happiness, growth, mutual support?" He took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you needed me to be. I'm sorry I couldn't keep the promises I made. But I think... I think we both deserve a chance at real happiness, even if it means not being together." 

You were at a loss for words, the reality of the situation sinking in. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with emotion. "No, I don't feel it too. What I feel is the desperate longing for you when you're not here. I love you, it never changed." You realized, with a crushing finality, that you would never hear him say he loves you again.

Swallowing hard, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, you spoke again, your voice hollow. "I'm going to pack my bags." 

As you turned to leave, you felt a hand grasp your arm gently. Hongjoong's touch, once so familiar and comforting, now sent a jolt of pain through your heart. "Y/N, please..." His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of desperation and regret. You froze, your back still to him. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of his hand, to remember all the times that touch had brought you comfort. But the pain of his words, the finality of his decision, was too fresh. 

With a sharp intake of breath, you pulled your arm away, stepping out of his reach. You couldn't bear to look at him, afraid that if you did, you might crumble completely. "Don't," you managed to say, your voice trembling. "Just... don't." Without turning back, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with cold finality, "You can tell your lawyer to bring the papers to my parents." 

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your shattered dreams and the future that would never be. You didn't wait for a response, couldn't bear to hear whatever Hongjoong might say. Instead, you walked away, each step feeling like it was taking you further from the life you had once imagined, towards an uncertain and lonely future. 

You packed your bags in a hurry, the silence broken only by the rustling of clothes and the soft thud of items being hastily tossed into your suitcase. Your hands trembled as you gathered the necessities, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. 

As you made your way to the door, you paused, your hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob. Despite the pain coursing through you, you couldn't help but turn for one last look at the man you loved—still love. Hongjoong sat on the sofa, his head buried in his hands, eyes fixed on the floor. The sight of him, so defeated and lost, sent a fresh wave of anguish through your heart. For a moment, you stood there, memorizing every detail of this final scene, knowing it would be etched in your memory forever. 

With a deep breath, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your keys. The metal felt cold against your skin, a stark reminder of the life you were leaving behind. You walked over to the drawer near the entrance, your steps echoing in the heavy silence. As you placed the keys on the drawer, they made a sharp, metallic cling that seemed to reverberate through the apartment. The sound was jarring in the stillness, causing Hongjoong to snap his head up, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, intense moment. 

That single sound seemed to encapsulate everything - the end of your shared life, the finality of his decision, the irreversible nature of what was happening. It was as if that small noise had shattered the last remnants of the world, you once shared. 

Hongjoong's voice broke through the silence, barely above a whisper, but filled with a mixture of regret and desperation. "Y/N, wait..."He stood up, his eyes pleading. "I... I never meant for it to end like this. Please, don't leave this way—you don't have to go." His words were mumbled out quickly, a desperate need in them that you couldn't quite understand. The sudden shift in his tone caught you off guard, making you pause at the door. You turned slightly, not fully facing him, but enough to show you were listening. 

You felt a mix of emotions wash over you - anger, hurt, confusion. Part of you wanted to turn and run, to escape this painful situation. But another part of you needed answers, needed to understand how things had fallen apart so quickly. With a deep breath, you steadied yourself and turned to face Hongjoong fully. "What do you mean, don't leave this way?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You just told me you want a divorce. What other way is there to leave?" 

Hongjoong got up from the sofa and took a few quick steps in your direction. His expression faltered, a mix of guilt and uncertainty crossing his features. He took a hesitant step towards you, his hand reaching out but stopping short of touching you. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I just... I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door, even though I know I'm the one who caused this." His words hung in the air, heavy with contradiction. You felt a surge of anger mixed with confusion, your emotions threatening to spill over. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, your grip tightening on your suitcase handle. 

"Hongjoong," you began, your voice low and controlled, "you can't have it both ways. You can't ask for a divorce and then expect me to stay." You felt your resolve waver slightly at the vulnerability in his voice, but you steeled yourself, knowing you had to stay strong. 

"It's just hard to see you walk away in silence like we're strangers," Hongjoong said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of regret and longing. 

His words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You took a deep, shaky breath before responding. "And it's hard for me to stay and pretend everything's okay when you've just shattered my world," you replied, your voice quivering. "We're not strangers, Hongjoong. We're two people who once vowed forever to each other, and now we're crumbling that promise." The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and painful realizations. You both stood there, caught in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting, the weight of your shared history and uncertain future hanging between you. 

Hongjoong's eyes met yours, a mixture of pain and regret swirling in their depths. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between what he thought he wanted and the reality of losing you.

Suddenly, without warning, Hongjoong closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your face, and before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with a mixture of passion, regret, and longing. It caught you off guard, your body tensing at first before instinctively melting into the familiar warmth of his embrace. For a moment, the world around you faded away. There was only Hongjoong, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin. It was as if all the love, all the memories, all the pain of your relationship was poured into this one, final kiss. 

But as quickly as it began, reality came crashing back. You pulled away, breathless and confused, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Hongjoong, seeing the same turmoil reflected in his gaze. 

"Why?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling with emotion. "Why now, when you've already decided to let me go?" 

Hongjoong's expression crumbled, he took a shaky breath, his hands falling to his sides as he struggled to find the words. "I... I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything." 

You choked on a sob, the finality of it all settled, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. With trembling hands, you reached for the door handle, your vision blurring with unshed tears. "Goodbye, Hongjoong," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible and thick with emotion. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything you had shared and everything you were now losing. 

Without looking back, you stepped through the doorway, the soft click of the door closing behind you echoing in your ears like a death knell. As you made your way down the hallway, each step felt like it was taking you further from the life you had known, from the love you had cherished, and into an uncertain, lonely future. 

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[lostbookmark]

MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Summary: After four years, your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive? 

Pairing:  Sisters Ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader. 

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance. 

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Over use of the name baby. Squirting. 

A/N: I just wanted to say  thank you to everyone. I was so SCARED to post on here, not really knowing what I was doing. When I hit the post button, I wanted to delete it right away. I didn't expect anyone to read it, and when the first person liked it, I was so ecstatic. I want to thank all the readers, rebloggers, and the ones who messaged me. 

SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT!  

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“Yoongs, can you zip my dress,” you yell from the bathroom. You wait, wait, and wait. You can't hear him anywhere in the apartment. “Yoongs?”

“I'm here, sorry,” he says, turning the corner and entering the bathroom and finally helping you do up the zipper. “Look at you. That dress is quite….clingy.” 

“You don't like it,” you smirk and look over your shoulder at him. 

“Oh, I do,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “Why don't we just stay home tonight. I'll show you just how much I like it.” 

“Mr. Min,” you gasp. “You can't miss this event. What will Joon think if his partner isn't there?” 

Yoongi did it. He finally gave into Namjoon and has officially become a partner in Persona. His role at the company didn't really change that much. He still wrote, produced, and had his quiet little sanctuary. He just had to wear a suit every now and then for meetings. You couldn't believe it when he said that he was going to buy in and be a co-owner. You asked why he had changed his mind. His answers were always vague. You wondered if he had something up his sleeve. 

You, you loved your summer art program and learned so much. It was a lot of work, but it helped you grow as an artist.   You were nervous about the art exhibition at the end of your program. Yoongi showed up happily supporting you. Your friends showed up, and your dad showed up with his new girlfriend. She was nice, and you enjoyed getting to know her, and much to your surprise, your mom showed up. You found out your dad had given her an invite. Yoongi didn’t want to leave your side when she showed up and made sure to cling right to you. You told him softly that you needed to be able to talk to her alone.  He left reluctantly with Lisa and Jimin, giving you the space that you needed.  

You noticed your mom looked brighter and was actually civil to everyone. She had complimented your pieces and asked how your program went. She then apologized to you and said that she was proud of you. She went on to say how she started therapy and needs to learn how to love herself again so she can love you properly like she always should have. She told you how she always had a dream to travel and take pictures when she was young but never had a chance since she married young and then soon after had you and your sister. She's now taking your lead and is going to go for it. You hear your sister is upset about this, now your mom won't be at her beck and call anymore. You unblocked her that night. 

Yoongi had asked you if you would now finally apply to go to school full time. You surprised him by saying no. He wanted to argue, but you wouldn't let him. You loved your experience, but you loved him more. WIth his new role and your whole workload, you didn't have much time with him. You loved your job, and you loved your office with the parking lot view that you now shared with Seungkwan. You were happy to just do your drawings for you. You think you might open an Etsy shop or some form of online store and try to sell them one day…but not now.  You were happy, and he finally conceded.   

“Fine,”Yoongi sighs and kisses you. “Go get a necklace, and I’ll help you put it on.” 

You roll your eyes at him and enter your bedroom. You stop dead in your tracks and look at the bed. There was a plate with rolls on it sitting on the end of the bed. You stare at it in confusion.

“What's this?” You ask him.

“Early birthday present,” he calls out from the bathroom. 

You take the top roll off the pile and plan on shoving as much of it in your mouth that you can. However, you don't….you can't.  Upon taking it, you revealed a black velvet box. One much like your ring currently on your finger came in. You can't move. You feel frozen looking at it.  Arms come and wrap around your middle. Yoongi plucks the box from the plate and turns you in his arms, lovingly staring at you. He smirks and strokes the smooth skin of your cheek. Slowly, he drops down onto one knee. It's real, you realize. This is really happening.  He pops open the box, and you almost faint as you see what's inside. A huge square cut diamond ring placed beautifully on its cushion. It's huge…huge, you think it's bigger than the one your sister had worn all those months ago. Is this why he finally decided to partner with Namjoon? 

 “It's been almost a year since I found you again. I never believed in fate but that night when I saw you again. That night changed everything, ” he said softly. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hand shook just a bit. “I don't ever want to lose you again. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you say quietly. He slips the ring on your finger, and it's a perfect fit. Throwing your arms around him, the two of you fall to the floor. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he murmurs against your lips. Pulling back, he gives you a questioning stare. “You really didn't know about this?” You shake your head no. “Hmm, Lisa and Jisoo came with me to pick it out. I guess I owe her one for keeping a secret.” You laugh and kiss him again. 

Jisoo, Lisa, and Seungkwan all coo over how gorgeous your ring looks on your finger. The diamond sparkles and shines under the lights of the hotel lobby where the four of you gather. 

“I can't believe you guys kept this a secret!” You exclaim, looking at them. 

“I didn't know,” Seungkwan tells you.

“That's because you have a bigger mouth than me,” Lisa snarks. “I'm going to find Jimin.” Blowing you a kiss, she struts off and leaves Seungkwan pouting. 

“I’m going to go find Yoongi. I'm sure he's loving all the conversations forced on him right now,” you tell your other two friends, hugging them goodbye. 

Yoongi hates these events. Industry insiders all kiss each other's ass to get something they want. It might be a charity event, but social climbing will come first. It's the worst. Fake smiles, fake laughs. You've had to fake awe and excitement over some big names before, and Yoongi loves you for it. Supposedly…..you're charming. You spot him engaged in a conversation with two unknown men. They were good-looking, of course, and you silently cursed your boyfriend…fiancée for being in this damn industry. When you reach them, you slide your hand up his chest, smiling at his guests. 

“Sweetheart,” he says and widens his eyes a bit. You get it….game on. “This is Choi Seungcheol and Yoon Jeonghan. They own Darling Media, and they're looking to partner together for future projects.” 

“Oh wow,” you gasp and giggle. “It's so nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” Jeonghan says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. You giggle again, and it seems to do the trick. 

“Yes,” Seungcheol says, clearing his throat. His eyes definitely did a once over, and Yoongi definitely glared a bit. “We found a new, talented artist who we think would be an asset to Persona.” 

“Who,” Yooongi asks the handsome man. 

“His name is Kai. I believe that he is friends with Jimin. I’m surprised you haven't scooped him up already.” Seungcheol explains.  You try not to laugh, and you feel Yoongi stiffen.  Out of everyone trying to make it in music, they found Kai. This is the funniest thing you think you may have ever heard.

“The famous model and commercial actor?” You asked with an excited smile on your face. 

“Yes, that's the one,” Jeonghan answers. “ We have some great ideas for him, but we would like him attached to the record company first. Then, we can talk…maybe about long-term contracts?” 

“Oh, Yoongi, they have such a good eye for talent. Kai is so handsome and talented,” you gush.  You feel Yoongi pinch your butt kind of hard. Ow!

“Yes, my love, they indeed do. Why don't you give me a call on Monday?” He ends the conversation by handing them a business card. As they walk away, you wave coyly at them. “You think that's funny?” Yoongi hisses in your ear. 

“It's hilarious,” you laugh, and Yoongi takes your hand. He gently pushes you to move forward, and the two of you walk toward the exit of the room. He pulls you down the hallway and into a shallow alcove just tucked on the other side of a statue.  Your back hits the wall, and he leans over you. Trapping you in the small space as he places his hands on either side of your head. 

“I'm not writing for him. Your boyfriend will have to find another company,” he snarls at you.  

“Yes you will,” you say, sliding your hands around the back of his neck. “You will write him a hit song and make him very famous.”

“I’ll write him the worst song I can think of,” he says, bending down and capturing your lips with his. “I'll tank his career.”

His hands are everywhere, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Your head leans back against the upholstered wall. You can feel your hair go staticky Yoongi though, he has no care in the world that you are in public and some important people could catch the two of you. His hands start to creep under your dress, hitching your leg over his hip when someone clears their throat. Whipping around Yoongi hides you behind him. You pull your dress down and pat your hair, trying to smooth the static. You look over his shoulder, and your eyes widen. It's Mingyu…with your sister. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, blushing. “Umm, I…we were hoping that you would be here Y/N. Your friend Lisa said she saw you come this way.” At least he has the decency to look embarrassed. 

“Yeah,...I…i'm…here,” your voice is small, and you think you sound stupid. 

“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi says, holding out his hand professionally. Mingyu smiles politely and shakes it.  You see Yoongi clench his jaw  a little as his eyes fly between Mingyu and your sister. 

“Kim Mingyu, it's nice to meet you again,” he says as he introduces himself. Mingyu looks at your sister, and so do you. She looks around at the room, staring at the different paintings on the walls. Basically, she's just trying to keep her eyes off of you and Yoongi. Your eyes sneak a peek at her finger. She still has her engagement ring on. 

“What can we do for you?” Yoongi asks stiffly, pulling you into his side. Unconsciously, you let your left hand rest on his chest, and you realize just how tense he was. You see Mingyu nudge your sister, and she sighs.

“The wedding invite we sent you came back,” she said, barely giving you a glance.

“Oh,” you say softly. “Oh, umm, I don't live at my apartment anymore.”

“That's good,” Mingyu says. “It was an honest mistake. We pushed it back to next fall after we had a little…chat.” He gives her another nudge, and she opens her clutch and blindly hands you a wedding invitation. 

“We would love it if you could attend,” her voice was robotic, like she practiced that over and over again. 

You look at the pretty invite in your hands and then look at Yoongi. He gives you a slight shrug. You know that he will go along with whatever you want to do. Mingyu smiles gently at you. You think that he has good intentions, and honestly, you don't want to ruin this relationship for her.  Looking back at her, she's staring hard. Her stare is burning a hole right through the ring on your finger.  Mingyu seems to notice as well.

“Oh, what a lovely surprise. When's the special day?” He asks.

“Umm, it just happened today. We really haven't had time to talk about it yet,” you explain. “Thank you for the invitation. It really does mean a lot but…I don't think it's a good idea if I come.” You look at your sister and say her name softly. she looks at you warily. “I'm sorry I couldn't be the sister you wanted but you're my sister and I still love you. Mingyu seems great, and I'm happy for you. I wish you all the best.” 

“Thanks,” she whispers. Her eyes look shiny, but she quickly blinks them away, and you wonder if you imagined it. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you again,” Yoongi tells Mingyu, shaking his hand again. “We have rounds to make and then home to celebrate.” Yoongi brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it. 

“Goodbye,” you tell them and once again walk away with Yoongi's hand wrapped around your own. 

The door to the apartment crashes open as you two stumble in lips attached. You almost fall, tripping over your feet. Yoongi is quick to catch you. He pulls his mouth from your own and drops kisses onto your neck. 

“Are you sure you want to do this right now?” He asks, worried you might be upset about seeing your sister. 

“Please, Yoongi. I want you…more than anything,” you whisper into the dark room. 

Reminiscent of that fateful night almost a year ago, Yoongi picks you up, and you wrap yourself around him. Holding on for dear life, as he quickly gets you to the bedroom…your bedroom…the one you share. 

Dropping you on the bed, he dives for your neck  again as you lie completely back on the bed. You welcome all his kisses and touches that he gives you happily. Wet, open mouth kisses start at your ear and slowly make their way to your chest. Yoongi nips at the exposed skin of your cleavage.  His hands take the fabric covering your breasts and tug it down just below your breasts, exposing you to the cool air of the room. You run your fingers through his dark, soft hair and gently pull, earning a groan from his lips.  You look at him, and he smirks up at you with a heated gaze.  Yoongi sticks his tongue out, and as you watch, he starts to rapidly flick your nipple. You close your eyes and arch your back a little up to him. You are hoping that he will give you more than that. 

“Look at me,” he demands softly.

You open your eyes and watch as he takes your peaked nipple between his teeth, giving it a slight tug. You feel that familiar jolt shoot down your body. You try your best to rub your lower half against him to find some sort of friction for relief, but he won't let you  have it. He chuckles and moves away just enough that you can't find what you need.

You huff and push him backward. He has to catch himself from falling off the bed, earning a giggle from you. You guide him down to your previous position and straddle his hips. Your hands fly to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them as quickly as you could. Upon finally getting it off, you brace yourself on his chest and press your mouth to his. His hand goes into your hair, holding  you to him. Your tongues dance together, breathing each other in. Souls connecting.

Your hips start to move on your own, barely touching the hardness still caged in his pants.  Unfortunately,  the dress stops you from opening your legs as far as you need to feel him fully, and you let out a frustrated groan. Yoongi's hands fly to your dress and lift it up over your hips, bunching it at your waist.  He grabs your waist and presses you down so you can rub against him the way you need. 

“You need me that much, huh?” he asked, letting out a breathless chuckle. You nod your head and press kisses to his neck. “I always need you too, baby.”

You sit up on him, trailing your fingers over his exposed chest. Yoongi hands gently rub your legs as he gazes up at you as you smile down at him.  You stretch your arm behind you as far as you can to pull the zipper of your dress down. Yoongi reaches up and pulls the front of your dress down completely. Exposing you further to his gaze. Sitting up immediately, he sucks your nipple into his mouth, and his hand massages your other. Your head tilts back as you hold him to your chest. His hands wander around you and travel up and down your naked back before attempting to pull your dress the rest of the way off down your hips.  Due to your position, he is unsuccessful in his mission.

“Lie down for me, baby,” he tells you when he pulls away from you. 

You bite your bottom lip and do as he asks. You watch Yoongi undo his belt and fling it across the room. You hear it hit something and fall to the floor. His hands make quick work on the rest of his clothes before they tug your dress the rest of the way off. Kissing your calf, he drags his tongue across your leg and up your inner thigh. Lightly, he bites at the sensitive skin, licking the red marks that he leaves behind. Settling down between your open thighs, his fingers toy with the inner hem of your underwear. His dark eyes flicker up to you.

“Tell me what you need, Y/N. I'll give you anything you want,”  He slowly moves your underwear to the side, and your eyes never leave his. “The wedding of your dreams.” A slow lick up your dripping pussy. “A home to call our own,” A kiss to your clit. “I'll give you the world if you let me.” His tongue starts drawing lazy circles around you. Your breathing starts to grow heavy and your eyes threaten to close but you don't let them leave him. “What do you want, baby? What do you need?” 

“Just you,” you whimper. 

Yoongi smiles at you and pulls your panties off. Diving back in between your thighs, his mouth is relentless on you. Tongue flicking back and forth on your clit as his fingers seek entrance into you. Your back arches as he is successful and pumps two fingers in and out of you. Yoongi sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning around you. Your hands fly into his dark hair and hold him to you. You hold the back of his head desperately, trying your damnedest to get him as close as you could. Pulling off you, his fingers still work their magic working your wetness out of you. His mouth attaches to your nipple for a quick second before giving your other breast the same treatment.  Grabbing his face you pull him down to your mouth. Lips meeting in a chaotic clash of tongues. A kiss full of want and desire. A kiss of craving.  A kiss of pure unadulterated neediness. 

“I need you now, Yoongi,” you say quietly against his lips. 

He stares at you for a moment while biting his bottom lip. Fingers massaging your innermost spot. Bending down, he kisses your lips once, twice, three more times. Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you, and he reaches down and takes a hold of himself. Tapping the head of his cock against your clit makes your neediness worse. Your hips start squirming trying to get him into you and it only makes him laugh quietly at you.

“You need this, huh?” He asks, sounding just as breathless as you. You nod your head eagerly.  

Running the tip along your entrance, coating himself in your wetness, Yoongi starts to slowly roll his hips. Entering you slowly until he is fully inside of you. “I've always thought about you. I had always wondered what happened to you.” His hips start to move at a calm pace. “If you ever found someone who loved you,” you shook your head at him and pulled him down closer to you. He allows you to, and he brings his weight on his forearms. “You didn't ever love anybody else?”

“No, I've loved you since I was seventeen. I've always loved you, ” you tell him honestly. 

Yoongi presses a hard kiss against your lips. His hips pick up in pace, fucking you into the matress. You pull away with a gasp, pressing your head back into the pillows. Your hands grab his sides, fingernails slightly digging into his skin. He moans at the feeling and buries his face into your neck.  The sound of his hips slapping against our own echo throughout the room, his panting breath in your ear. It feels so overwhelming, loving someone like this, making love like this. Something you could only feel with him. 

Yoongi adjusts both of you. He moves to sit on his knees and brings your own  to your chest, holding them there.  You hear him gasp as he slides in deeper, hitting all the spots that make you see stars. This may not be your favorite position, but the noises he makes are worth it. You'll start stretching every day for those noises. You bring your own arms around the back of your knees, taking over for him. Pulling them back just a little further and closer together.

“Fucking, shit. Do you feel how deep I am?” he moans, leaning back slightly, his thrusts never stopping. The change in angle makes his cock hit your sweet spot over and over again. “Do you need more?” he asks, he sounds like he's struggling himself.

“Yes,” you cry out. Your cries become louder as his fingers rub your clit quickly. The tightening in your stomach winding so tight your body is wanting to get away from it. You feel that familiar heat that starts to take over, your skin getting flushed, heart pounding in your ears.  Your core starts to tighten around him. 

“There you go,” he hisses. “Let go, baby, let go for me.”

You do. You let go, You finally let go of all the self-consciousness, all the self-doubt. You let go of every insecurity that you have ever felt. There's a high-pitched ringing in your ears. Your body tenses up.  You've never felt this pleasure before so deep. So, deep inside of you that you think you might pass out. You feel like you're floating, and you're not coming back down. You think you can hear him reach his end as he swears, but it sounds so far away and muffled. You feel so…high.

“Breathe,” you can hear a voice. “Y/N, baby, breathe,” it's Yoongi. You snap back to reality,  spotty vision clears, and your eyes land on him. His dark hair is sweaty and sticking up in all different directions.  He looks just as dazed as you feel with his mouth agape. He's breathing hard. He can't look away from you. 

“You….came really hard���uh,” he tells you and looks down. You look down as well, and your eyes widen. He is definitely wet as is the bed, and…you don't think it's from him. While it doesn't look like it does in the few adult videos you've seen, you know exactly what happened. Your hand flies to your mouth in shock.

“I'm sorry, that's gross,” you say, turning red. “Eww…I…” Yoongi dives on you, crushing you with a kiss. 

“ I can't wait to make you my wife, damn,” he says, going in for more kisses. Pulling you up out of the bed as he flings you over his shoulder. Yoongi gives you a quick slap to your ass laughing. “You better believe that's going to happen more often. Let's shower.” 

“Yooonnnngiiiiiii,” you screech happily.  Yeah, you finally let go.  You're going to give him everything. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦         ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: So, now that we have reached the end, I have an announcement.  Thanks to the wonderful Anon who asked about drabbles, I had come up with a few ideas about the future of the characters.  As of right now…….I'm about 4 loosely written chapters into a SEQUEL!!! However, I'm not super happy with the way it's going so….I think I will take my time and try to rewrite them. 

Secondly, I was writing another story before I started the sequel. I have 6 chapters done on that one. I'm thinking I might drop a teaser to the Whispered sequel next week if I can get on a clear path of how I want it to go. So, everyone….stay tuned.

Tagged Reader:

@marimarvelfan, @unicornbabylover,@minghaosimp, @seoullove96, @iheartsvt, @babyitscoldoutside

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

I'll admit I'm an emotionally sensitive bean that cries too easily.

I guess I'll ask for alpha!blade, alpha!jing yuan, and alpha!wriothesley.

Say omega is having a hard time making a nest and it's just been a really stressful day for them so they burst into tears, full on wailing so pretty much anyone in the area can hear them crying. I'm a loud crier unfortunately.... So it can sound like a 2 year old throwing a tantrum which is awful...

Poor omega ;o;

cw: omegaverse

Blade

He's in the kitchen when he hears them crying and immediately rushes to the room to figure out and potentially fight whatever made his mate cry. When he sees that his omega is surrounded by a half made nest and building materials he pieces together what made them burst into tears.

Doesn't say anything just envelopes his omega in a hug hoping that'll calm them down enough to explain things to him. When they do finally calm down and talk about their frustrations he's all ears.

He's not great at building nests himself but he at least tries to help them by holding this or that for them while they try to continue building the nest. If they get frustrated again and look like they're going to cry again he just holds them close inside the half made nest instead to show them he's happy with what they've made and to soothe their worries.

Jing Yuan

When he hears them crying from the garden with Yanqing he's immediately on his way to their shared room to see what's up as they were fine minutes ago. Seeing how distressed they are he doesn't do much but take the building supplies from their hands and holds their hands in his own to ask what's wrong. After hearing about their stressful day he offers to build them a nest instead to cheer them up.

He's rather good at building nests and has Yanqing gather more blankets and pillows to help out. He builds his omega a large and rather comfortable looking nest and asks them if they'd like Yanqing to stay to which they answer with a nod.

Surrounded by his and Yanqing's warmth and the very well made nest might make them cry again but in happiness.

Wriothesley

Probably hears them while on his way to visit them at home and is quick to get his key to their home to open the door and make his way to their room. When he sees them so upset he drops anything he's holding and holds them in his arms asking what's wrong. He nods in understanding when they talk about the stress that's piled up and how this was their limit.

Offers to help them build their nest or get them some water or anything at all if they think it'll help. His omega settles for cuddles in the half made nest until they calm down enough to stop crying.

Building their nest isn't so hard as it was partially completed but with his help it definitely went smoother than before resulting in a happy omega.

[kathaynesart]

Replica Holiday Special Winners!

Happy Holidays everyone! It's that time of year and you know what that means! Time to announce the winners for the DTIYS Replica Holiday Special Cover!

I received so many wonderful submissions. Far more than I had anticipated! They were all so unique and creative and it was an absolute joy to look at each and every one of them! I really underestimated however how difficult it would be to choose with them all being so unique from each other. In the end, I decided to gauge the top picks on how well their cover captured the "essence" of what this Special is going to be like! Without further ado, here are the winners.

HONORABLE MENTION - @matchstique

Buddy! I love this piece so dang much! It has so much character and perfectly displays the wacky hijinks we can expect as well as the huge amount of stress our poor boys are under during these trying, pregnancy times. The movement and colors work so well and make me excited for what comes next! Seldom do I see pregnant females shown as the badasses they are, but you have gone and turned Cassandra into an absolute icon with this piece! Bless you!

3RD PLACE - @thegunnsara

Sara, the shear amount of craft you put into your art is STAGGERING. Every scuff on Raph's shell and wisp of smoke screams of a quality I can only hope to attain someday. I literally want to be you when I grow up! That said, the concept of this piece is also fantastic. One of the things I'm must excited about for this Special is getting to see Raph and Casey as they were and witnessing the strong bond they share. I love them dearly and this cover captures their strength and tenacity so perfectly. Gods among men.

2ND PLACE - @cupcakeslushie

Slushie, this cover is so damn fun and dynamic that I can't stop looking at it! Your attention to detail and composition are masterful and the fact that you could fit such a bombastic battle into such a limited space speaks to how crazy talented you are! You also do a wonderful job of retaining both the intensity of the apocalypse but also that playful edge that Rise always manages to retain! It's definitely the cover that would catch my eye on a shelf and make me want to turn the page to see what happens next!

1ST PLACE - @abbeyofcyn

Cyn, the moment I saw this cover, I gasped! It's funny because this is both a piece I could have totally seen myself doing had I done the cover, yet crafted in a unique way I could have never come up with on my own! On top of that, this slick composition scratches my little designer brain juuust right. The use of the hands motif is such a great element because to me, it encapsulates the conflicting themes of family/parenthood with the drama of what it means to be human. On top of that, having each character as one of the digits both connected to and encircling Casey is such a wonderful touch that really drives the symbolism home. Somehow, you managed to peer into the future and perfectly capture how the finale of this special is going to feel. Thank you so much Cyn for such a wonderful piece!

~~~~~~~~~

Now that I think about it, looking back on these winners as a set, all four them actually do an amazing job as individual covers for each of the four "acts" that will make up this special. That was not at all my intention, but it kind of worked out perfectly for that. Gets me all emotional!

I also definitely want to put a spotlight on the other amazing submissions, many of which made it SO close to the top slots! I was going to post these pieces individually but I was worried people wouldn't then go to their blogs to view the covers, so instead have a compilation and links to the full versions! Please check out everyones amazing covers and give them some love. They all worked really hard and it means so much to me. Thank you everyone!

@dreamundraws - LINK @honeylief - LINK @gemini-forest - LINK @memorydarkness - LINK @skullythefriendlyskullface - LINK @v-albion - LINK @its-wabby-stuff - LINK @yris-latteyi - LINK @reagi-df - LINK @chaoscontrol50 - LINK / LINK @murasakibonnet - LINK @hitwiththetmnt - LINK @xandriagreat - LINK @karonkar - LINK @sunydays - LINK (sorry my dear, yours did not appear on my hashtag reference at first! D: But still love it!) @quailaz - LINK @delicatechildwitch - LINK

Thank you again all of you! You all did such an amazing job!

[luveline]

If we're still doing dad thoughts- I'm always thinking about kbd!Steve and how wonderful he is. The whole family sitting cosy in the living room and Steve just giving his family heart eyes because he loves them all so much 🥹🥹

thank you for requesting <3 kisses before dinner au, mom!reader

Steve lets out a sigh of content. He feels like a kitten falling asleep over a bowl of cream, or a little boy the night after Christmas. He feels content, in every sense of the word. He had no idea he could feel this happy doing nothing. 

You’re on your stomach. Finally home from work and with no chores left to do, you’ve stretched out the big green puzzle rug and unboxed Avery’s newest one thousand piece jigsaw. The edges are coming together slowly, the constant plink of pieces as you sort through them colour by colour lulling rather than grating. Avery lies opposite you in the same position. She might be Steve’s physical replicant, but she’s your copy now. She’s even perched her hand in her chin the same way you have, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips in concentration. 

Wren is awake yet perfectly happy in Steve’s lap. She’s had enough cooing for this evening, babbling as the cartoon mermaids on the TV begin to sing a big musical number. Dove sings along, nestled under Steve’s arm. Many of the words are foreign to her. She swaps them out for nonsense sounds. 

Bethie sits on one of Steve’s socked feet eating pretzels and clapping when the cartoon sea creatures clap, her hair tickling Steve’s knees whenever she moves. It’s the calmest night you’ve had for a while. What’s better is that, besides you and Avery, everybody’s had a bath, and so all that’s left to do tonight is have dinner and go to bed.

You’ll wait until the morning to shower, decked out in your pyjamas, Avery’s hair swept into a protective style to prevent any tangles or knots. 

He can’t really put his finger on why he feels so happy. Perhaps it’s because, at the end of the day, this is everything he’s ever wanted. He doesn’t need the finer things or even the moderately good things, but he has them. He has a nice, clean home (though it’s fit to bursting now with the newest arrival). He has a wife who he loves, and who loves him. He has his four daughters, their pet fish, and a best friend four streets away who he can see whenever. It’s more than he ever thought he’d get, once. 

“Dad,” Bethie whispers. 

“Yeah?” he whispers back, voice filled with a mischievousness that makes Bethie smile. 

“Why are you smiling?” 

You turn to look at him. “You are smiling. What’s funny?” 

“Nothing,” he insists. 

Dove turns under his arm. Her toddler face is pretty much identical to her baby face, the only difference being her mouth full of baby teeth that she hasn’t quite mastered talking around yet. “You are smiling,” she says, like this is a problem to be solved. 

“What’s so bad about that?” he asks. “It’s a good thing, smiling. You guys should try it sometimes.”

Predictably, every girl looking at him is immediately glaring at him. Well, for a moment, but then Bethie cracks and smiles shyly. “I smile all the time,” she argues. 

“You do. Not my cranky pants,” he says, giving Dove a gentle shake. “We don’t like smiling, do we?” 

Dove, despite herself, grins at her dad’s affection. Maybe she’s forgotten you’re home, but she wraps her arm around Steve, careful of Wren’s face, and smiles into his shirt. “No,” she says. “We don’t.”

He kisses her head, sharing a private look with you from over it. 

Avery doesn’t glance away from her puzzle. “I love smiling.” 

“You’re so good at it, that’s why,” you say. Steve hums his agreement. 

“Yeah, you’re beautiful!” Bethie says. 

Avery pulls her head up, then. “Thank you,” she says, sounding surprised and delighted at once. “You’re beautiful too, Beth!” 

“I’m pretty like mom.” 

“And I’m like dad,” Avery says, nodding. She smiles exactly like Steve would as she says it, driving her point home efficiently. Her lips curve up and her almond eyes thin, sparkling with love as she looks between Bethie and Steve. 

“We’re handsome,” Steve says. 

“Handsomely beautiful,” you say. “Ave, did you know handsome used to be a word only said about girls?” 

Avery shakes her head as you delve into an explanation. Bethie crawls to the jigsaw circle to listen. 

“You’re handsome,” Steve says into Dove’s forehead. 

“I am beautiful.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re all so pretty, ‘cos you get your good looks from me.” He laughs. “And a little bit from your mommy, too. Mostly from me.” 

Dove hears the laughter and it catches like a yawn, her giggles peeling as she falls backwards away from him and into her nest of pillows and blankets. “You’re happy,” she says with a big smile. 

“I’m so happy I could cry,” he says. He grabs one of feet to squeeze her toes. “But I’m getting sick of the mermaids, honey. Can we watch something else after this? Maybe something with real people?” 

“Maybe.” With Dove, maybe tends to mean no. 

He shrugs, adjusting the arm that secures Wren to his stomach carefully. She’s peering up at him curiously. “I can’t win them all, can I?” he asks her softly. 

She smiles and gurgles something unintelligible.

“No, you’re right. It’s just mermaids. We’ll live.”

[babyjakes]

a diamond's gotta shine.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | toys

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader

warnings | ddlg (daddy!lloyd, little!reader.) super soft!daddy!lloyd, just how we like him! butt plug (and me not knowing shit about luxury brands lol.) reader has an oral fixation; sucking and licking. anal prep/fingering/stretching. clit rubbing <3. mostly praise and encouragement. an orgasm as reward, yay!! implied aftercare. err hints at exhibitionism later? idk just to be safe.

word count | 1,425

an | this wasn't really the plan for this prompt originally, but i woke up today and decided i wanted a fic of lloyd gifting reader a luxury butt plug so we're just rolling with it lol. this one's dedicated to my sweet sweet angel sabby @hansensgirl hope you're well bby, and happy holidays to you!! <33

"C'mon, princess. Up on my desk."

Lloyd was gently nudging you toward the large surface, which he had suspiciously cleared off from its usual state of mild disarray. You lifted a curious brow at the broad man, earning a pearly grin as he gently stepped in to sweep you up in his arms. Lifting you effortlessly onto the desktop, he set you down with care, as if you were the most delicate and precious thing in the world. He trailed a playful hand up your thigh, fingertips teasing at your skin through the silky fabric of your nylons. "Daddy," you hummed eagerly, letting out a soft squeak as he gently pinched at your tender flesh.

"Panties off, baby. Lay back for me," Lloyd instructed steadily. And he sure as hell didn't have to ask twice.

As you moved quickly to remove and discard your hose and panties, you couldn't help but try to sneak a peek at what your daddy was up to as he made his way to the other side of the desk, opening up a drawer and pulling something out discreetly. He then strode over to one of the couches in the middle of his office, grabbing a few throw pillows before returning to you. "Here you go, angel. Let's get you nice and comfy," he murmured, propping you up with the pillows supporting your back.

"Daddy," you whined again, a hint of neediness now present in your voice. Lloyd smiled as he brought up the gift to finally show you; the contents of his hands made you gasp. A beautiful plug, shiny gold, with a stunning ring of crystals embedded along the base. "Oh Daddy," you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the glittering piece.

"Genuine Winstons," Lloyd told you proudly, taking a small bottle of lube from his pocket and placing it on the desk beside you. "Only the best for my princess, of course."

"So pretty, Daddy," you remained in awe, earning a loving chuckle from the man as he watched you be entranced by the gift.

"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and open up for Daddy, need you to get this nice and wet for me while I'm prepping you." He teased the tip of the plug against your glossy lips, guiding one of your hands up to hold the base. You sucked and licked happily at the metal's impressive curve as Lloyd got to work between your legs.

He parted your feet, bending your knees up to lie at either side of you as your dress slipped up easily in cooperation with his efforts. Pausing, he took a moment to revel in the sight of you. His gaze fell to your perfect folds as they sat before him on display. With a low hum of approval, he brought a gentle hand up to smear your wetness around teasingly. "Look at you, already getting wet for Daddy. That's my good girl," he smiled as he brought a finger down to begin gently prodding at your tighter little hole.

Still working the toy you'd been given between your pouty lips, you let out a whimper at your daddy's tentative nudges. You gasped softly at the feeling of a cold glob of lube being dripped onto you. Heat rose up through your cheeks in slight humiliation as the slippery mess was worked thoroughly over your puckered rosebud. "Okay baby," Lloyd hummed encouragingly, "time to open up this pretty little hole. Are you gonna be good for Daddy and take it?" You offered the sweetest nod you could manage, earning a beaming grin from the mustached man. "Of course you are. My sweet little girl," he crooned lovingly, giving no further warning before starting to push his first digit past your difficult outer ring.

You squirmed gently, big pleading eyes looking up at Lloyd as you let out a weak whine. "Hmmph... Daddy..." your voice wobbled.

The tall man brought his unused arm up to stroke back your hair in a calming manner. Furrowing his brow in gentle concern, he did his best to soothe you. "Shhh, my love," he cooed as his large finger worked up to the first knuckle, then the second, gradually stretching out your sensitive walls. "That's it, see? Nice and gentle. Look so pretty like this, taking Daddy's fingers up your sweet little bottom. My pretty girl," he kissed your forehead, holding you steady as he began introducing a second finger.

It was a slow, steady process; Lloyd knew that it had to be. He rarely played with you like this, mostly due to how much you struggled to take anything up your poor little ass. But he hoped that getting you a toy like this might help you adjust to the unfamiliar sensations; you had discussed prior that you'd like to do some proper anal training and play. Needless to say, you both felt this was the perfect first step in that endeavor.

Once you were comfortably and confidently taking two fingers, Lloyd finally felt ready to transition you over to your shiny new toy. "That's it, sweetheart. Fuck, so perfect for me," he was chuckling as your hips bucked up to meet his hand, his digits driving steadily into you. Much of the initial discomfort was gone, replaced with the most deliciously sinful burn blooming in the base of your tummy. Your eyes were shining with pride as you looked up hopefully at your daddy. Kissing your forehead again, Lloyd nodded as he slowed his fingers to a stop, retrieving the now-soaking plug from your drooling lips.

"Okay princess. Here we go-" You hummed eagerly as the tip of the gold bulb was rubbed up against your slippery opening. Lloyd surprised you a bit by bringing his free hand up to gently dip into your leaking pussy; much to your daddy's delight, you had made quite the mess during his generous preparation period. He dragged his fingertips up further, liberally smearing your glistening arousal over your clit to coax the tiny pearl out from under its protective hood with his expert touch. Your knees were trembling as he began working the nub in steady circles, while finally beginning to ease the large plug up into your awaiting walls.

"O-oh my- Daddy," you mewled as the warm, slick piece of metal stretched you out across its broad curvature. At its widest circumference, the object's insertion was bordering on painful. Lloyd's eyes never left you as he did his best to rub your clit faster, hoping the added stimulation would help ease the burn.

"Almost there baby, almost there," he promised, letting out a breath of relief in tandem with your own as you finally made it past the peak, the rest of the toy slipping perfectly into its place with little effort. As the glittering base nestled itself between your smooth cheeks, Lloyd looked on in pleasure and pride. "There," he hummed lowly, gently giving the center a few taps, earning the sweetest little whimpers from you. "What do you think, angel? Has someone earned an orgasm?"

His pace was quickening over your clit before you could even process his words. Hands flying down to grip the edges of the desk below you, you nodded desperately. "Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy!"

Your daddy smiled as he continued his steady rubbing, finding your sweet spot with ease. It wasn't long before you were reaching up to cling to his sturdy arm, your breaths stuttering as you chased your release. "That's it, baby. Go ahead and come for me. Been such a brave girl for Daddy," the man allowed, nodding as your high ripped through you.

"Daddy, o-oh Daddy! Aahhh-" you cried, the plug lurching within you as your poor little cunt clenched down on nothing. You were carried lovingly through your high, Lloyd's fingers only slowing as your spasms and contractions finally began to cease.

"That's my girl," he murmured gently, reaching up to brush your hair back out of your face as he gave your pussy and puffy button a few playful pats. "Now what d'you say we get you cleaned up, huh princess?" You were too weak to respond, only managing a lazy nod as you slumped against the pillows behind you, struggling to catch your breath.

He moved from your side momentarily to grab a cloth from one of the desk drawers. "Oh, but sweetheart- the toy stays in," he informed you with a wink. "We're having guests over later; Daddy wants his pretty girl to shine."

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 is here if you haven't read it

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part.  Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love.  Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.

But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.

And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.

Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's my good girl."

Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.

This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.

You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.

The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.

Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.

Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.

In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway.  Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8. 

Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.

On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.

Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him.  But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin.  He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.

Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.

Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.

"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.

"I forgot something—"

"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.

"Yes, from the supermarket—"

"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

"A different store."

"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."

"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.

"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.

"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.

"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.

"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.

"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.

"Just let her go, man—"

"Fuck off," Rafe spat.

Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.

“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"

"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.

An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”

After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.

"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”

"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.

“You walked here?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."

"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"

"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.

Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.

Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.

Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.

"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.

"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.

Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.

"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."

“I manage,” you replied.

Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”

“I miss her too. How is she?”

“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."

"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.

"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.

Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.

"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."

“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."

“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”

"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"

"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”

His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.

"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"

Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.

"Don't they offer scholarships?"

"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"

"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."

Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.

"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.

"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.

"I don't want your money."

Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.

Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.

Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.

"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.

"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.

Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"

"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.

"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.

"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.

Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.

"Nah, that doesn't count."

"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.

"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."

Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.

"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."

"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.

Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.

With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.

You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."

Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.

The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.

The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.

"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."

You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"

She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."

"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.

"Wild, right?”

Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."

She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."

The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.

“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.

"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.

"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”

She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.

Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's the outer banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"

She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”

“No, there isn't—"

“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“

“No!”

“Then are you dating him?”

“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.

"Then what's it like?"

"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”

Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”

"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.

You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.

“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.

“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.

“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."

"I know," you murmured in agreement.

She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."

During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.

Until the Library.

Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.

Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-

Rafe was waiting.

For you.

Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.

Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.

A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.

Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.

"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.

"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.

"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.

Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."

"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.

The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.

"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”

"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"

“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”

“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”

"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."

"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."

"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.

"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”

"Don't," you managed to whisper.

"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.

"Just leave me alone, Rafe."

"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.

"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.

"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.

You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"

"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”

“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"

"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.

"Get in the fucking truck!!"

"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.

With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.

"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.

Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.

His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.

There was only him.

The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.

"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."

Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.

"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.

In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.

Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.

"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.

Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.

Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"

"Make yourself at home" you said.

With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.

Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.

Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.

“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.

"But it still has its charm, right?"

“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.

Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.

“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.

“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.

“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.

“You mean Betsy?”

Rafe smiled “It has a name?”

“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.

"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.

The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."

Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."

Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.

With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.

Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.

With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.

"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.

His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.

Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.

“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.

Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.

Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned, his eyes rolling back at the memory “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.

Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.

Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.

"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.

His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.

"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.

Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.

"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.

Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.

With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.

As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.

"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"

You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."

A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"

A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.

"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.

"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."

You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.

As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.

"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.

"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.

His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.

If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.

Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.

UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST