#Not to mention that he knows exactly - EXACTLY - what to say to comfort me or make me blush!! He knows me all too well by now... 😅💖

[dante-mightdie]

long awaited poly!141 angst (poly!141 au but this part is mainly price)

c/w: mentions of neglect, angst, comfort

there was a tense feeling in the house for the next few weeks, a painful guilt hanging in the air every you came into contact with one of the boys. you’re not sure exactly what made them snap out of this neglectful phase they’ve recently entered, all you know is they’re desperately trying to make it up to you

the mornings are filled with borderline breakfast feasts, it’s almost becoming exhausting. sometimes you just want a coffee and a bowl of cereal. it’s almost pathetic the way they grovel for some form of attention from you, desperate just to see you smile at them again. perhaps, if they’re lucky you’ll even return their affections

to say it’s been overbearing would be an understatement. you know they mean well, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy with kyle waking you up at the crack ass of dawn, asking if you’d like to go on his morning run with him. you certainly don’t enjoy the way johnny crowds your space, forgetting that he needs to earn that trust back from you. simon nearly always puts him back in his place though

it could be worse, you think. you could still be on the outskirts of your relationship, begging and pleading for just a scrap of attention from them. now you have them wrapped around your finger but you didn’t want that, to feel trapped in the vines of their guilt. you’d much rather be intwined with them, warm and safe in their loving embrace

it was a neverending stream of gifts and surprise outings, movie nights which end with them pleading with you to come and sleep in their bed, your bed. slumped shoulders and defeated frowns on their face when you mumble some excuse and run off to what you consider to be your room

they are trying, you can’t deny that. and you wanted nothing more than to let yourself melt into their strong arms and sweet words. the only thing stopping you was that nagging feeling in the back of your head, attempting to convince you that this treatment won’t last. they loved you once and then they abandoned you, they will do it again

~

“what’re you doin’ awake, lovely?” john’s deep voice rumbled through the cozy walls of his office. his tired eyes softened even further when he saw you, nervously standing in the doorway. he pushed his chair out from under the desk, spreading his thighs open and patting one as a signal for you to come closer

“couldn’t sleep.” you mumble once you’ve shuffled over to stand between his open legs. his hands come up to rub over the skin on your thigh, exposed by your pajama shorts

“can I do anything to help?” he says, reaching for your hands instead when he sees them fidgeting in front of you. he places a kiss to your knuckles, giving you that warm smile he gives you whenever he wants you to smile back at him. “somethin’s on your mind, princess. talk to me.”

you let out a soft sigh, looking briefly into his eyes before looking down at the floor, “why did you all stop talking to me?”

john frowns and joins you in looking down at the floor before he pulls you a little closer, “there’s no excuse I could give you that would ever justify how we treated you, princess. when you put your life on the line like that, the possibility of losing you became far too real and I guess we just… distanced ourselves because we wouldn’t know how to deal with that pain.”

a frown tugs at your lips at his words, you feel unable to meet his gaze. the room is silent for a few moment as you process what john just said to you, he doesn’t rush you. instead he just brushes his thumbs over your knuckles, a silent show of support

“but you expected me to deal with the pain of losing you all? you may not have died but it was like you just disappeared from my world, john. I understand losing me would be unbearable for you, but would it be easier to lose me knowing I would have died thinking you hated me? died knowing that I questioned every thought, every action, every word in a desperate attempt to know what I did wrong!”

the words spill from your lips before you can even think, tears begin slipping down your cheeks and john looks away, ashamed. he knows your right, him and the boys are ashamed of the way they acted towards you

“we’re so sorry, love… nothing can undo what we did but please let us try. you trusted us once, think you can again?” he asks, hopeful. it felt cruel to snuff that out, even though you were well within your rights to. and after a few seconds of silence, you respond

“maybe.”

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | five.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 9k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, implied sexual content, lots of overthinking, crying, mentions of death and death anniversary, friends & family being like ?? 😭, flashbacks, mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex — sorry if i missed anything & if it’s all over the place! i tried to edit as much as i can while im away!! but enjoy & ty for being patient with me 🫶🏼 if you need something different, here is part one of yeosang’s fic!

Seonghwa doesn't remember when exactly he fell in love with you.

It might've been when you watched all of his football games growing up.

It might've been when you beat up that one kid because he wouldn't stop bothering Hwa for the answers to the homework and called him out of his name unnecessarily.

It might've been when you'd come to his house and sneak through the back door just so you could lie down on his bedroom floor and listen to new music together until you fell asleep.

It might've been when you first got your license and drove him to the hospital and stayed by his side when his fever didn't go down.

It might've been the trip to Hanoi with his family.

Or, it might've been when you sat with him during his first day in 3rd grade at your school, even though he was a child and didn't really know what love meant. He was surrounded by it, and so he was familiar with it. You gave him the same vibes. It must've been, right?

Of course, he had been in relationships. Those relationships did make him feel like maybe, those feelings for you were a fleeting moment; something that would pass, especially since things hadn't changed between you two. He wasn't gonna force it. He might've believed at some point that it was probably all a lie, that he wasn't meant to be with you in the end.

An idea that was way too good to be true.

But, then those relationships would end and he'd be back to square one. And he'd sit there and reflect on everything, revisiting the idea if he was saved for someone else [you]. Truth be told, he did love his exes. They'll always have a special place in his heart. But along their journey, he always felt like this wasn't his end goal— that this instead was the fleeting moment, that particular something that would pass.

In the end, it was always gonna be you.

"So, what happened with Makayla?" Wooyoung asks as he cleans his table and starts unpacking some new supplies that had just been delivered.

"Nothing." Seonghwa shrugs. "Y/N came that morning, ran off, then Makayla kinda knew. I feel so fucked up about it cause she's so nice and understanding."

♡ FLASHBACK

Seonghwa smiles when Makayla steps into his car, her sweet perfume immediately filling the air. Earlier in the week, he had asked Makayla if she wanted to go to a casual dinner and she instantly replied saying she'd love to. It put a smile on Seonghwa's face, which felt nice after the gloomy and upsetting days he'd been having.

He takes her to a casual ramen restaurant in town; it's small, cozy and intimate. They sit at the bar next to each other, taking the time to get to know each other over some hot, comforting bowls of ramen. He finds that Makayla enjoys a lot of similar things; she's outgoing, likes to go on adventures and explore new places, try new foods, would always be down to try something thrilling like skydiving or zip-lining in a tropical place.

Shit like that.

Seonghwa isn't as adventurous but he'd be down, and he likes that about her. On top of that, she's really sweet and laid back. Seonghwa doesn't feel like he has to try and paint this certain image to impress her. He doesn't; he can be himself for the most part, despite the fact that he's still having to try and keep it cool since it's the first time they're hanging out. Even when they finish their ramen, they sit there for another 30 minutes or so just chatting it up— learning more about likes and dislikes, past relationships, you, even.

"Yeah, so there's me, San, Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Y/N. I met San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong in college, and Y/N—" He pauses a bit as he twirls the straw in his cup. "She's been my bestfriend since the third grade."

"That's sweet. So, you guys are all close and everything? Y/N probably knows you the best, hm?" Makayla chuckles.

"Yeah, she does. I guess. We've been through a lot together." Seonghwa looks at her and nods. Makayla isn't one to press more, but she can tell there's a little more to you and what you mean to Seonghwa. Of course, he's not gonna divulge now. Makayla doesn't expect him to. But there's a pause, a silence that falls between them that says there's more to it than he's letting up.

She'll let it be, though. She can tell you are special to Seonghwa.

"That's nice, though. To have someone by your side after all these years. You two are still going strong. I feel like a lot of friendships crumble, or people just get distant because we grow and become different people over time."

"Mmyeah. I think we are. We're just.." Seonghwa shakes her head. "Yeah, nevermind. We're just in our fighting phase but it's not anything we haven't experienced before." He lies to skip out on details. He's torn between telling Makayla the messy ass truth or keeping it on the low— cause honestly, this was a harmless dinner. Seonghwa didn't expect anything out of this.

Maybe he should've just been honest from the beginning but his head is fucking everywhere right now, and he doesn't wanna think about it.

"I see. I hope things get better."

"Yeah, same." Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle before sipping the last bit of his water and standing. "Anyway, ready to get out of here?"

"Sure. Thanks for dinner." He smiles and takes her hand to lead her out of the restaurant.

"Course. Thanks for joining me." It's a bit of a chilly night tonight, Seonghwa and Makayla can see their breath in the air as they walk back to the car together. Seonghwa truthfully is having a good time with her and he doesn't necessarily wanna part ways so soon. He might take this as a distraction, he might use this as a way to get even closer and have something to build off of— he couldn't really tell you what exactly goes through his head at this next moment. He can't lie that it is a good distraction from the bullshit he's been dealing with, and although he doesn't mean to compare Makayla to you, he can't help but say she's been making him feel way better about himself than you lately.

He hates that it even has to come down to this because at the end of the day, life clearly still revolves around you.

Seonghwa tugs the passenger door open and lets her get settled before he hops into the driver's seat. He tugs on his jacket a bit before starting the car and turning up the heat, pulling out his phone to quickly see if there's any notifications he needs to tend to from the boys [you].

"Any plans for the rest of the night?" She shakes her head.

"Nope, none at all. What about you?"

"None. Should we find something else to do then?"

"I'm down!"

"Anything specific come to mind or.. we can hang out at my spot, if you want? No pressure. I can take you home, too. It's whatever you wanna do." Seonghwa looks at her from the driver's seat.

"No, we can go to your place. I'm fine with that."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." She smiles, giving Seonghwa the green light to start up the car and drive back to his apartment.

When they get back to his place, he grabs a bottle of wine and little snacks before popping on a thriller movie she suggests. He plans to keep it chill for the evening. He doesn't plan for anything specific to happen, he doesn't plan for the night to go a certain way. He lets it be; even when Makayla scoots next to him and cuddles up under his arm. Even when his fingers seem to be tracing circles on her arm, even when he suddenly feels the urge to kiss her.

To feel something.

And so one kiss eventually turns into another, and another deep kiss. Then, it eventually turns into Seonghwa tearing off her clothes and vice versa as they rush to his room and get in his sheets. He quickly rolls on a condom and gets her laid out underneath him. He enjoys this, yes— he's not gonna lie. He's a man and he's got needs, that's why he's indulging in every second of this. He fucks her good, deep into the mattress. Makayla's moaning his name and digging her nails deep into his shoulders, whining right into his ear and begging for more of him.

It's an ego boost, and it's making him feel ten times better about himself.

He makes her cum twice that night, from missionary and from behind. He hopes his neighbors don't complain about the noise— headboard lowkey banging into the wall with his name being called out like a mantra.

He has a good fucking time, though. He doesn't kick her out. He lets her stay the night, handing her a shirt to sleep in to feel more comfortable. He holds her and falls asleep quickly, the morning coming not too long after they had fallen asleep together.

Seonghwa planned to sleep in a 'lil bit that morning since he wasn't needed at work until 10am. In his head, he had planned to wake up at his own liking, prep a small breakfast for him and Makayla before offering to take her home on the way to work.

But, his plan is completely ruined when he hears a loud knock on the front door that also startles Makayla awake.

"Are you expecting someone?" Seonghwa's brow turns up as he ponders for a bit. He isn't expecting any packages and he doesn't remember putting in any maintenance requests. So.. no?

"No." He gets up, but Makayla does too and he feels a bit bad her sleep was ruined. "You don't have to get up, you can stay in bed if you'd like."

"No, it's okay. I should probably get up and get ready." He gives her a small smile before walking out, throwing on a white tank top to cover his indecency and tidying up a bit for whoever the hell is on the other side of the door. Who he expected, he wasn't sure. But he sure as hell wasn't expecting it to be you on the other side this early in the morning.

He swings the door open and he's not sure what to say or do, and it doesn't help that Makayla is brushing past behind him in his shirt to gather some of her things.

"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.

"Y/N—"

"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later."

♡ END

"I mean, it's not like you were expecting Y/N to come on that morning. Plus, you didn't necessarily lie or do anything behind anyone's back. You tried." Wooyoung feels a little silly knowing he knew about your plan, but he definitely didn't know Makayla spent the night until now. He took a 'harmless dinner' for what it really was; not Seonghwa taking her back home for good times and good vibes in the sheets. Or else, he probably would've prevented you from going on that morning and lied about Hwa's shift time to keep everything as smooth as possible. But, it doesn't make any sense when Wooyoung really thinks about it. Because even if he did tell you Hwa had an early shift and that it'd be better to see him later, would that help fix anything? Which exactly is the lesser evil?

For Wooyoung, he thinks it just had to unfold the way it did, unfortunately.

"Mm. Yeah." Is all Seonghwa says before finishing up wrapping some KT tape on his client. "Makayla was cool, though."

"Took her out and took her home, ey." His client chimes in, making Seonghwa shake his head.

"Thought I'd move on." Seonghwa shrugs.

"Clearly not." Wooyoung snorts, tossing in some fun to brighten the mood. "No, but, honestly. I think it had to happen this way? Instead of it getting too deep with Makayla and Y/N comes back around? Less mess."

"Less mess is always nice." His client chimes in again. "So, what are you gonna do? Does Tyson know about the whole thing with his cousin?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. He hasn't mentioned anything. If he asked, I'd be honest about it." Seonghwa shrugs. He wasn't entirely hiding anything and he likes to think he tried to go about this as normally as possible. It wasn't like he was out to intentionally hurt Makayla. He could never. He just didn't expect things to play out the way that it did, and he could never lie either.

"Well. What're you gonna do now?"

"Somehow talk to Y/N."

"You haven't heard from her since then, huh? Well, I guess since the club." Wooyoung corrects himself.

"Nope. I have not." Seonghwa's bottom lip pokes out into a pout before patting his client on the shoulder to signal that he was finished with the KT tape.

"Damn, Hwa." Is all his client says before walking out of the room, making both Seonghwa and Wooyoung chuckle.

"I really wanted her to take the lead on this one."

"Technically, she did. It just happened to be at the wrong time." Wooyoung shrugs. "Give her a little bit of time before you reach out again. She probably feels really defeated after that. And don't get me wrong, I love you both and the situation is unfair for both ends. But I think right now you two just need the space."

"Yeah. I'm not gonna force anything right now. I just hope she's able to talk to me before jumping to more conclusions."

"Mhm."

"Have you been able to talk to her recently?" Seonghwa fully turns to Wooyoung.

"Yeah, but she's not really saying anything about it. I think Sannie—"

"Sannie.. what?"

"She called Sannie after the whole thing and cried to him about it."

"Oh." His heart breaks hearing that you've cried over him yet again. Maybe Wooyoung was right— maybe you both needed this space after all.

♡ FLASHBACK

"San? Sannie?" You repeatedly call his name over the phone and San is confused. He has just woken up, but he's immediately alert when he hears you crying, your voice trembling on the other line.

"Hey Y/N?" He says in a questioning tone as he sits up in bed and rubs at his eyes. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I'm so fucking stupid." You quickly start your car and reverse out of the spot to drive off.

"Don't say that, what's going on? Talk to me."

"I just tried to talk to Seonghwa about everything. I was gonna tell him everything, I was gonna be honest. Sannie, I was gonna be honest—"

"Slow down, where are you?"

"I'm going home." You cry and San starts to get up and get ready.

"I'll meet you there and we can talk more, okay? Just please get home safely and I'll be there." You nod even though San can't see you, trying as best as possible to race home in a safe manner. All you wanna do is crawl into bed and cry everything out so you can put on a brave face for work later.

When you get home, you immediately toss your pajamas back on and curl up on the couch. You put on a random movie for background noise, picking up your phone to see the missed calls and texts from Seonghwa.

[seonghwa]: y/n where are you?

[seonghwa]: can we talk, please?

[seonghwa]: just text me back or call me.

[seonghwa]: y/n please talk to me.

You let out a sigh and set the phone aside, not knowing how to respond to him right now. Your thoughts are all over the place, and you're regretting everything that's happened between you and Seonghwa recently. You were too late and this was the price of your actions, reactions, everything.

This is exactly what you were afraid of— losing Seonghwa, even as your bestfriend, for good. Because now, things seem irreparable. Your relationship won't feel the same and it's truly awful.

"It's me, San." You suddenly hear at the door before he lightly jiggles the doorknob. "I'm coming in, okay?" You don't say anything and he proceeds, eyes instantly landing on your form on the couch. "What happened?" San positions himself on the middle of the couch, looking down at you with sympathy. He really does hate seeing you cry— he's hated it since he's known you and grown close to you.

"It's too late. I'm too late. I'm so stupid." You cry, explaining to San about how you finally gained the courage to talk to Seonghwa. You tell San you woke up early and tried to put yourself in a good mindset in order to work through things properly. You tell him about how you got yourself there, ran up the steps and knocked on his door without turning back. You explain the look on Hwa's face, you explain how surprised he was to see you.

You explain how you ran off when you saw her in his shirt.

You explain how your heart dropped, you explain how awful the feeling was hearing him call after you, seeing his texts and missed calls.

"But, he was calling after you. He wants to talk to you Y/N."

"No. I ruined it. He's probably just gonna explain how he needed to move on and tell me shit that's gonna hurt like hell."

"Why don't you hear him out, hm? It could be entirely different, and he might wanna work this out with you."

"We kissed at the club. So after all of this— the kiss, the argument after the fight with Mingi, today—I don't think Seonghwa and I will ever be the same again. I fucked it up." You ramble on and San's slightly having a hard time keeping up cause he's stuck on the fact that you just told him you and Hwa kissed. It's not like he's entirely surprised, it just makes sense as to why things feel too fucking complicated.

He sees why now. But truthfully, as both your friend and Seonghwa's, it's not his place to say anything. The best advice he has is to just let it play out how it should. You'll get your time to talk to Seonghwa. Whatever unfolds from there is what will unfold.

"Hey, don't say that. Please don't." San says softly. "I know everything feels messed up and all over the place right now, but I know Seonghwa wants to fix things just as badly as you do. You're his bestfriend before anything, he'll never let that happen."

"I don't know what to do."

"Why don't you give yourself more time and space? Talk to Seonghwa when you've had a chance to clear your head and gather your thoughts properly." He gently rubs at your back. "This is the best thing you can do for yourself right now. For you and him, maybe." You dig your head into the pillow and release a sigh, almost finding the need to scream at how frustrating everything is.

But, he's right.

Time.

♡ END

"Heard you two kissed at the club." Wooyoung teases Seonghwa, causing him to toss a roll of gauze at his head.

"Shut up."

"Ow, what? It's cute!" Seonghwa glares at him before letting out a sigh.

"It just seems like everything's against us right now." Seonghwa laughs a bit, but deep down, he isn't sure how he feels. He's sad. He's heartbroken. He's not sure if he wanted the kiss to happen purely because of what you two are now. Because even though he knows it's not the only problem, it is probably the biggest.

"Give it time, yeah? You two will talk it out when things settle and it'll get better no matter what that looks like. I know you mean a lot to Y/N, and she wouldn't just drop 16 years of friendship over a silly little squabble."

"Mm." Seonghwa hums.

"Have you talked to Makayla since then?"

"Yeah, and she still wants to be friends. There weren't any expectations so.." Seonghwa shrugs. "At least she doesn't fucking hate me even though I deserve it"

"Dude, again. You weren't intentionally trying to hurt her. It's just a complicated situation."

"Yeah. Anyway. You're coming to my dad's thing right?"

"Of course, the fuck?" Wooyoung laughs. "This weekend, right?"

"Yup."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"I wonder if Y/N is still coming."

"She will." Wooyoung gives him a small smile. "I know she will."

The weekend comes quick and Seonghwa is hauling ass from the wee early morning hours to get ready for his dad's retirement party. He's helping fix up the house and the backyard before running to the store to grab more things his mom needs. Though he's not trippin' about being tasked with errands alone, he'd usually have you tag along for company and extra hands. He feels it a lot today, and it's killing him how he can't even do this with you.

He doesn't even know if you're coming, or if you remembered, even if Wooyoung reassured him.

"You're done?" Seonghwa's mom asks, peering over his shoulders as he hauls in grocery bags and a cake.

"Yeup. Why? Don't tell me you need more, ma. I told you—" She playfully pinches him on the arm and furrows his brows while he lets out a low 'ow.'

"Told me what, hm? That's all! I'm not adding to the list! Where's Y/N?"

"What do you even mean?" She crosses her arms.

"You normally do these things with her. Where is she? Is she okay?" He shrugs.

"Sorry, she's busy." She eyes him, taking note of the way he shrinks and avoids eye contact. "Where do you want me to put the groceries and cake? Fridge for now?"

"Mhm. Thank you."

"Where's dad?"

"Showering and getting ready for his special day."

"I probably should do that, too.”

"Y/N is coming, right?"

"Mom, yes." He says in a slightly exasperated tone because he doesn't know the real truth. He honestly just wants to stop talking about you for a second. Just one second. "I'm gonna get ready." He walks off to get ready, sorting through his duffle bag of clothes that he brought over.

His mom likes to tease him, even though deep down, she gets sad when you two fight. It's not even just the fact that you welcomed him so warmly when he was the new kid in town, it was the fact that she has never seen Seonghwa connect with someone so well. You've always pulled the best out of him, and you were always there to make him laugh, to make him happy. Despite all the troubles you've endured, you've always treated them with respect and you've always shown love even if your own life felt like it was lacking of such. This didn't feel like any other fight she's witnessed between you two— call it mother's instinct, but she knew there was way more to it than Seonghwa wants to let on. She just hopes that whatever it is, you two can pull through. She knows you both are stronger than that.

When Seonghwa gets showered and throws on some better clothes fit for the occasion, he helps his mom and dad get the house clean and tidy for the party. His dad had officially retired, and Seonghwa was happy he could finally rest. Enjoy the things he loved doing. Spend more time with his mom. He helps put up the decorations around the house, fixing up the backyard and getting the grill ready for the food. Wooyoung, Hongjoong and San are one of the first to arrive, along with his relatives. They immediately start drinking and enjoying themselves, playing music and grilling meat to start kicking things off as more people trickle in.

Wooyoung briefly offers to take over the grill while Seonghwa heads into the kitchen to pull out more of the fruits and non-alcoholic drinks for his cousins and relatives that don't drink. He's busy setting things aside when his mom's loud scream startles him, his eyes immediately diverting to the source near the front door.

"Y/N's here with Yaya, Soyeon and Charli!" Seonghwa's mom lets out an excited yell when she sees her favorites walk through the door, throwing her arms around you for a big hug. Seonghwa turns from the kitchen, watching as you greet his family members that immediately swarm you at the entry. You happily greet his dad near the living room, giving him a big hug and congratulations for his retirement. It's the first time he'd be speaking to you after everything, let alone seeing you. He tenses up a bit, but he doesn't ignore the excitement he feels seeing your face, your smile. You're in a white denim maxi skirt and a black off-the-shoulder top, and Seonghwa can't help but stare.

"Hey!" Soyeon playfully punches him on the bicep and pulls him out of his thoughts, with Chacha screaming at the top of her lungs right next to her mom. "Chacha, jeez." Yaya laughs when she hugs him first.

"She sure loves her Uncle Hwa."

"Uncle Hwa!" She continues to scream, making Seonghwa laugh and swoop her into his arms. He gives Soyeon a one-armed hug before placing a kiss on Charli's temple.

"Chacha!" He matches her excitement. "Missed you, pea." He turns to Soyeon. "Junseo's at the restaurant?" She nods.

"Yep! Holding it down like always." She laughs. "He wanted to be here, though." She turns to Charli. "Baby, let's go eat first? You can play with Uncle Hwa after." Charli whines but doesn't fight it, making Hwa promise time after time that he'll play with her after she finishes her food. He does, anyway. He'll do anything to keep that smile on her face.

At this time, you finally make your way to the kitchen and Seonghwa isn't sure how to act. You give him a tiny, toothless smile before throwing one arm around him, clearly avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

"Hey." Seonghwa says, hugging you back. "You drove with Soyeon and Yaya?"

"Mhm."

"Should've told me so I could've picked you guys up."

"It's okay, Hwa." You give him another reassuring smile before grabbing a cup to fill up with some of the fruit juice his mom made. "Is everyone else here?"

"Yeah. Outside in the backyard. Food is out there, too."

"Thanks." You say, sipping your cup before walking out to the backyard. Seonghwa lowly groans to himself when he realizes he's being dumb, maybe slightly afraid, to talk about everything that's been happening.

Maybe it isn't the right time, either. But, he hates being this way with you. It feels terrible, and he wants nothing more than to just be okay with you.

"Are you and Y/N okay?"

"Ma, we're fine. I promise."

"Park Seonghwa if I find out that you've done something to her—"

"I didn't do anything!" He almost squeaks when he responds. "What about me, mom? How about 'are you okay, Seonghwa?'"

"I ask you all the time and you always give me the same answer!" She responds in a higher tone, but Seonghwa knows she's teasing just to push his buttons. "You never want me in your business anyway!"

"Whatever." He sighs and shakes his head, walking out to the backyard to hang out with everyone. Everyone old enough to drink [and isn't driving] raises their cups high for a big toast before knocking some soju back. Seonghwa catches up by taking the shot Wooyoung hands him to the neck, making a face at the bitter brand of soju they've decided on.

You've parked yourself in between Hongjoong and San, with Yaya, Soyeon and Charli sitting nearby as they eat their food. You have a plate in hand while you laugh along with San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung poking fun and making faces at Charli nearby. Seonghwa plops onto the empty bench space next to San, sipping on his drink while watching his cousins play in front of everyone. San sees you shift in your position a bit, now paying more attention to Charli, Wooyoung and Hongjoong, while Seonghwa continues to quietly sip on his drink. San isn't gonna lie— he feels a bit awkward since the tension is coming from both ways. But, he brushes it off anyway; trying to keep everything as normal as possible to keep the party running on a smooth note.

"Uncle Hwa." Charli comes in front of him with a huge smile on her face.

"Yes?" He gives her the same smirk, setting his cup down onto the table. "Finished eating?"

"Ya. But, mommy says I can't play yet."

"30 minutes!" Soyeon yells from her seat.

"She's right. You need to let your food settle." He pokes at her tummy and pulls her onto his lap. "Here." He hands her his phone to play on.

"Uncle Hwa." She calls for him again as she watches him pull up her favorite game.

"Mhm?" She puts up her tiny hands near his ear to whisper something so incredibly confidential:

"Are you and Titi Y/N fighting?" He chuckles.

"A bit, but we'll be okay."

"Why?" She pouts at him.

"Just grown up things, Chacha. We'll be okay." He repeats.

"You promise?" She's still whispering and Seonghwa's heart melts when she puts up her pinky for a pinky-promise. "Titi Y/N loves you. Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad." He wraps his pinky around hers. "Promise, okay? Here." He passes her his phone once the game loads.

"Uncle Hwa, I wanna play with your legos." She plays Mario Kart Tour furiously on his phone.

"Which one do you wanna play with?"

"Any." Seonghwa laughs and nods, carrying her as he stands to grab his legos from his stash in his old room.

"Let's go find one, hm?" You watch as Seonghwa carries Charli with ease into the house, remembering the night you two spent with Charli a few weeks ago. Feels pretty distant, and it hits you how sad your situation with Seonghwa is right now. You quickly shake off your thoughts and stand from your seat to throw your trash away and grab another drink, grabbing more trash from the group when they see you making your way inside. You toss the paper plates away, engaging in small talk with Seonghwa's cousins as they pass in and out of the house. You pour yourself another cup, getting slightly startled by Charli zooming out of the house screaming in pure happiness while holding one of Hwa's small lego sets.

"That girl talks in screams." You mutter to yourself. "Oh shit." You look at the small spill to the side of your cup, letting out a sigh when you reach over for a napkin—

"Here." Seonghwa cocks a brow up when he hands you a napkin. "Can always count on you to make a mess, I guess." You roll your eyes at his sarcasm and snatch the napkin out of his hand to wipe up the spill.

"Thanks." Seonghwa continues to stand there, awkwardly watching you clean up the spill. You turn to him once more, furrowing your brows in confusion. "What?"

"We're just not gonna talk about it?"

"We're not doing this right now." You look at him. "Not at your dad's retirement party."

"Then when, Y/N? You're just gonna leave everything like this?"

"I don't know, Seonghwa! I guess so, cause I'm definitely not doing this now." He lets out a hefty sigh before slowly nodding his head.

"Wow, so you're fine with—"

"Stop." Seonghwa licks his lips and purses them together before breaking eye contact first. It's the easiest comeback he has, and he's not sure why he feels so angry, so triggered, right now. It's probably because he wishes you had just talked to him before the party. It's probably because it's been too long and he's not even sure where this leaves you two anymore. It's probably because he misses you and wishes he could just hug you. Call you. Text you. Do everything that he used to. Regardless of the kiss.

"Alright." Seonghwa says, surrendering and waving the white flag. You catch the way his jaw slightly clenches when he tears his eyes away from you and breaks eye contact. It does break your heart, and you hate that this is what you two have become. But, you weren't gonna do this on his dad's special day. Not at his dad's party.

"Excuse me." You grab your cup and Seonghwa steps aside to let you walk out first. He follows suit, shutting the sliding door behind him. Your friends and Soyeon don't fail to catch how bothered you two look even though you try to keep it under wraps, continuing to keep distance even as the afternoon goes on.

While Charli continues to play with the lego set in between playing with Seonghwa's baby cousins, you, your friends, and Seonghwa's relatives engage in more drinking and karaoke. Seonghwa and his mom take a moment to say little speeches over the cake, congratulating his dad for his retirement and for reaching a milestone in his life. You go about the party as normal as possible, keeping the energy and the good vibes alive even though it truly feels the worst not being able to genuinely be happy around the people you love the most.

You knew it was time to talk to Seonghwa soon, and that he was waiting for you to do it. He had been waiting for you, and god knows how disappointed he must have been in you.

Everything just feels so fucked up, and you feel so torn about everything. You wish you could just run away and hide from it all, even though you equally wanted to fix this and figure out where you two lie in all of this.

What about Makayla?

Was he still seeing her like that?

That's probably the one thing you were most afraid of. Seonghwa was your bestfriend. Despite all of this, you should be happy with whatever he chooses. He deserves it. He didn't deserve what you gave him at the club or how you failed to be honest about your feelings. This was all because of you.

As the evening arrives, you and Soyeon plan to leave in the next half hour due to Charli getting restless. As you pack some food to go for the both of you, Seonghwa's mom rushes over to you and puts her hand on your back. She looks at you lovingly like she always has, a soft smile on her face.

"Come here really quickly.” Her hand laces with yours as she shows you to their room. "I was cleaning up the garage the other day and found these photos and videos." She hands you some old photos of you, your dad, and Seonghwa and his dad while out. You flip through them, feeling the tears welling up in your bottom lids.

You missed your dad so, so much.

There were even photos of you and Seonghwa on the playground, photos of you and Seonghwa laughing while on a family trip, photos of you and Seonghwa hanging out in each other's backyards. Photos of you, your dad, Seonghwa and Seonghwa's dad together.

"This, too." His mom slips an old VHS tape into the VCR and you giggle a bit at how long it's been since you've watched something on tape. A huge wave of nostalgia immediately rushes over you as you gently place the photos down and watch the video of you and your dad during the fourth grade trip to the local zoo.

"He truly adored you more than anything. You will always be his little girl." She says and you start crying. Seonghwa's mom leans her head on your shoulder, and you lean onto her; silently enjoying the footage together. All of this was perfect timing, and you knew Seonghwa's mom did it for a reason. Your dad's death anniversary would be coming later in the week and it was everything you needed to find some comfort.

"I miss him."

"I know he misses you, too."

"Thank you." You look at her and give her a toothless smile. "Can I take these pictures?"

"Of course! Want the tapes, too?"

"Is it okay if I keep it here? I don't have a VCR." She laughs a bit and nods.

"Yes, absolutely." She rubs your arm before pulling you into another hug. "I'm glad you came out today."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You and Seonghwa seem to be fighting." She makes a face that makes you laugh. "What happened? What did he do?"

"Nothing. It was me. We just got.. into a disagreement, I guess. It's my fault though, and I just haven't been able to talk to him to apologize."

"You two will be fine."

"I know." You give her another tiny, toothless smile. "I hope." The two of you sit together for a little longer, taking in the rest of the photos before you wrap it up and head back out to the party.

At this point, your friends are taking their leave, with Charli laying on Soyeon as her mom holds her. She hands you the bags of all the food you packed for yourself, Yaya and Soyeon, saying your goodbyes to everyone still around. You save Seonghwa for last, giving him a tiny smile as he pulls you into a full-armed hug. You embrace the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest before he pulls away and looks at you.

"Wait." He says, holding you by the shoulders. "Have you been crying?" He looks deeply into your eyes and takes note of your wet eyelashes. You brush it off and look away, shaking your head as a response.

"No, I haven't." You brush past him to finish saying bye to his parents before rushing out the door to your own family. Seonghwa furrows his brows and looks at his mom, realizing she also has wet lashes and just looked like she finished crying.

"Were you and Y/N crying together?"

"I showed her some photos and videos with her dad that I found in the garage." She shows him the date on her phone and it’s enough for Seonghwa to understand what it means.

"Oh. I see." Is all he says. "Was she okay?"

"I think so. She can always say she's okay even though deep down, she's not." She puts her hand on Seonghwa's arm. "I don't know if it'll ever get easier for her."

"Goodmorning Hwa! Have you heard from Y/N yet? I wanted to ask her something but she hadn't texted me back and her phone is off. I think I might know why, though." Seonghwa lets out a breath and licks his lips before responding.

"I see. I'll check." He says. "I got you."

"Thanks. If you do see her, tell her to call me later when she's up for it."

"I will." And with that, Seonghwa cuts the call. He looks at his watch before devouring the rest of his breakfast, grabbing his bag and heading out the door much earlier than expected. It's a crisp, cold day. Somewhat of a drastic change compared to the days they've been having. Seonghwa can see his breath in the air, and he's regretting the light windbreaker jacket he grabbed as he rushed out the door— hoping it'd get warmer.

But, it doesn't.

He has to be at work in a bit, and he's probably even gonna be late. He's just concerned about you, and even though things still feel weird, awkward— he knows he needs to be here for you. Especially during this time.

And Seonghwa's timing couldn't be any more perfect. Because although today isn't the exact day of your dad's death anniversary, it's in two days and you never know how to prepare. Lately, you've found yourself avoiding the exact day, visiting your dad’s grave a few days earlier to say some words, say your peace. Cry and reminisce. When the day comes, you try to keep yourself busy. You work and you work, and you spend time with Yaya, or Soyeon, or even Seonghwa's family because it's the love you need to surround yourself with. As much as you love them all dearly, they aren't your dad and it never gets easier. It's an unbearable pain you can't even describe. It doesn't go away. It just sits there, leaning onto your already-broken heart and weighing heavily on the surface.

You've been quietly sitting at your dad'd grave, fingers tracing over his picture. You smile whenever you see his bright smile, his eyes holding all the irreplaceable love in the world. You're not even sure how long it's been since you got here, maybe an hour or two. It's cold, but you don't want to leave. You want to spend as much time as you can being here even though it is hard.

You continue to cry and slowly fix the flowers around his grave and other offerings. You set one of the framed pictures of you, Seonghwa, and your dads onto his grave before crying, and crying some more. Suddenly, you feel someone drape a jacket over your shoulders, and with the circumstances, you would've been spooked if it were any other day. But, you feel at ease. You feel comforted. You feel completely fine because everything feels familiar. Your feelings are confirmed when Seonghwa wraps his arm around you and pulls you close.

"It's cold, how long have you been out here for?"

"Awhile."

"You should've called me." Is all he says before there's a brief silence that falls between you two.

"I always think it'll get easier." You mumble as you wipe away at your tears. "When a new year comes, I always feel like it'll be the year I'll finally be able to process this and say my peace to it." You start breaking down again and Seonghwa sits still, silently listening to you cry. "But, it never turns out that way. It just gets harder."

"It's an unbearable pain that doesn't go away. I'm sorry it had to be you, and I wish it didn't turn out this way. I wish it wasn't like this for you." Seonghwa says lowly as he continues to hug you and keep you close. "Your dad is always here, watching over you. And I know he'd be so proud of you for being so strong and overcoming all the adversity that came your way."

"I just miss him, Hwa. I really wish I could hug him again. I'll never forgive myself for taking advantage of all those chances and for being too comfortable."

"Y/N, this is the sort of tragedy that you can't control. It's awful, but you would have never known. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. You did your best as his daughter, and I know he appreciated every moment until the end. I know he felt your love through everything." You cry onto his shoulder, letting everything that you still have left in you out. Seonghwa continues to hold you close, hand rubbing up and down your arm as his cheek rests on the top of your head.

"You really didn't have to come, pichu."

"And let you do this alone? I don't think so." You shift in your position to look at him. He gently takes a thumb underneath your eyes, wiping away at your tears.

"Can we talk? At my place?"

"Yeah. I'll come as soon as I'm done with work, okay?" You nod and Seonghwa gives you a tiny smile. The two of you sit in silence for a little longer before you're saying your goodbyes and heading your separate ways.

"By the way, Soyeon wanted to ask you something." He dips his head. "Call her when you get home." You nod again. "Drive safely for me." He taps your door frame before shutting it close and heading to his own car. You watch in your mirror, waiting for Seonghwa to step into his car before you drive off and head home.

Getting home, you immediately wash up, get into comfier clothes and call Soyeon to check in with her when you see her texts. You agree to picking up a few extra shifts throughout the week to cover for Jini finally taking some time off for personal reasons. You hang out on the couch, putting on a reality TV show you had already finished— you figured it'd be good for background noise. Filling up the emptiness of your space. You end up taking a long nap, waking up close to dinner by Yaya calling you into the house to share some food with her. It felt nice catching up on sleep, since you weren’t able to get much the night before. You spend most of your early evening with Yaya, helping her clean up around the kitchen before you retreat back to your place and pick up your phone when a text goes off.

[seonghwa]: need anything for dinner?

[you]: no i ate already, ty. just get yourself something!

[seonghwa]: okay. i'll be over in a few mins

You tidy up even more as if it's the first time Seonghwa is coming over. But, you feel nervous all over again. You feel like every inch of your apartment has to be clean in order to prep; overall, it feels like nothing can really prep you for whatever will go down tonight between you and Seonghwa and this is only helping distract you from that thought. You just hope it ends on a good note.

"Sorry it took me a little longer, had hella shit to do for the trainees today." You shrug as you look at him from the couch, wrapped up in your blanket.

"It's okay."

"What'd you do when you got home?"

"Hm, clean. Nap. Eat dinner with Yaya. How was work?" He shrugs.

"Tiring." He plops next to you on the couch. You notice he's drinking a protein shake, with nothing else in hand.

"You didn't get anything to eat?" He shakes his head.

"I'm not really hungry."

"Hm, okay." You hum. "Thanks for still coming over even though you had a long day." He looks at you and gives you a toothless smile.

"Course." You scoot a little closer and he continues to watch you. He watches the cute little frown on your face build— staring at him all doe-eyed and it makes his heart flutter.

"I'm sorry for everything, pichu. I didn't mean to get mad at you that night the fight broke out. I just didn't wanna see you hurt and I'm stupid for not pushing Mingi away. For finding excuses. You shouldn't have to save me every single time and I'm sorry it has been that way over the years." You tilt your head. "I really am sorry, and I didn't mean to make things more complicated especially with the kiss. I probably ruined things with Makayla—"

"We're just friends." He chimes in. "We're just friends and you didn't ruin anything."

"She was at your place? In your clothes?" He nods and chuckles a bit.

"Yeah, cause things escalated for one night. I'm not gonna lie. But, that's really it. She knew.." Seonghwa looks at you and shakes his head. "Nevermind."

"No, tell me. She knew, what?" You place your hand on his and gentle shake it.

"She knew the way I felt about you, especially after that morning."

"Oh."

"I guess she could just tell."

"I'm sorry, Hwa." He clicks his teeth and caresses your cheek.

"Stop saying sorry. Nothing was ruined. Everything's good between us and we're still friends."

"Where does that leave us?"

"You know what I want. What do you want?" You look at him for a moment, really look at him, and he's patiently waiting for your response. His big, brown eyes are holding hope, holding love, holding every bit of affection he has for you— even though he's trying his best to keep it at bay. At this moment, you couldn't even question how Seonghwa felt for you because it's overflowing from his look alone. He really wanted you. He really wanted to give you the world, if you'd let him.

"I'm just scared, Hwa." You say, close to a whisper— bottom lip trembling. He lifts your chin as he scoots closer, keeping you close and warm while his big, brown eyes peer into yours with pure adoration. There's a mix of worry, concern, but he knows better than this. He knows you two are better than this.

"I am too, I have been for a long time. But, please trust me when I tell you that I'm here and that I'll never leave your side no matter what. I'm here, Y/N. I want this, I want you. I have always wanted this."

"Don't lie."

"You know I hate liars." He chuckles a bit.

"I feel the same, Hwa. I do.”

"Yeah? You're with me? Genuinely?" You nod. "I need you to be sure of us, Y/N."

"I'm sure. I'm sorry I ever doubted you or questioned it, but I'm sure." You shed a few more tears while Seonghwa chuckles a bit. "Hey." You whine. "I'm serious!"

"I am, too." He smiles. "Stop crying, you look ugly when you cry." He teases and you smack his arm. "Just come here." He says, pulling you closer and lifting your chin up. "I got you, okay? I got us.”

"Okay."

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" Seonghwa asks, close to a whisper. You quietly nod, watching as he dips forward and closes in for a kiss. It's soft, it's sweet, it's light. It makes your lips tingle, it makes you feel all sorts of butterflies. Before Seonghwa can pull back, you immediately chase after his lips— asking for another, just deeper, more intense. It quickly builds without having to do or say much; Seonghwa's large hand cupping your cheeks right before you straddle his lap, careful not to break the kiss. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, background noise now also being filled with the sound of wet kisses. Small whines and whimpers. Seonghwa's hands fall to your ass, giving it a good squeeze when he feels you slowly rock against his already-hard cock.

"Fuck." He hisses just as you suck onto his bottom lip and tug back on it. "Hold onto me." He demands as he swiftly carries you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He drops you onto the bed and continues to kiss you, making his way down to your jaw. Neck.

"Gonna ask again.” He places a kiss on your jaw. “Sure about this? Us? If you want me to stop, I'll stop." You shake your head as Seonghwa continues to plant kisses wherever he can, thumb fiddling with the hem of your shorts.

"Keep going." You reassure him through a quick cheek caress when he stops and stares. "Please. I’m sure."

"Okay." He whispers before dipping in for a final kiss on the lips. The both of you continue to shed off your clothes, tossing them at different points in your studio. "You're still on birth control, right? I'm clean."

"Mhm." You barely respond before you let out a small gasp when Seonghwa's thumb run down your folds, feeling for how wet you are already. He presses at your sensitive nub, biting onto his bottom lip when he sees how you easily respond.

"So wet already." Your mouth waters when Seonghwa finally sheds off his boxers and pumps himself a few times. When Seonghwa tugs the covers up and slightly hovers over your body, he teases you for a few minutes by running his tip up and down your folds. He lets out a small moan before slowly breaching your entrance, sliding in with ease because of how wet you are.

This whole thing feels so raw, feels so new, feels so.. meant to be.

So perfect.

Like fitting in the last piece of a 1000-piece puzzle.

Seonghwa slowly works himself into you to adjust to the feeling, his mouth slacked open against yours at how good, how perfect, you feel. He finds a steady rhythm, your legs cocked open for him as he dives deeper, and deeper— hitting you in all the right spots. Seonghwa thinks the feeling is indescribable. It's the fact that the person he genuinely loves is underneath him, the person he genuinely loves has admitted in feeling the same about him, about this. It's the fact that everything feels so, so right.

It makes everything about this exciting, more pleasurable.

"God, you feel so good—" He groans. "Baby, fuck." The pet name sends shivers down your spine, eliciting a loud moan to slip from your lips. He picks up the pace, fucking into you rougher, faster.

"Seonghwa—" You whine. He sits up, hands splayed out on your thighs to keep them spread open while thrusting into you. He watches as you shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure, teeth biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning too loud. "Mm'close." You mewl as Seonghwa's hips become a little sloppier, his movements rough and hard. You start to move your hips to match his movements, tipping closer and closer over the edge with every move, every moan, every kiss. Suddenly, you still as you let out a loud moan of Seonghwa's name— a huge wave of pleasure, ecstasy, washing over your body. Seonghwa takes the opportunity to chase his high, hips stuttering just as he releases his seed into you shortly afterwards. A strangled, deep moan leaves his lips as he presses wet kisses against your neck, jaw, lips.

"Y/N." He looks at you, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @laurenwidjaja @taz-97 @asjkdk @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[mountainficss]

hi! who in svt would be more likely to be a camboy as a side gig/job? i feel like maybe seungkwan cause we all know he feels comfortable in front of the camera and is great at knowing what the public wants, or mingyu cause he loves showing himself off🤭 i initially thought about wonwoo cause he does gaming streams but he’s wayyyy to shy i feel like he would rather keep his intimate time private.

what do YOU think tho?

!! mentions of: exhibitionism, masturbation, nipple play, edging

hi there, my love! thank you so much for sending an ask :) that’s a great question! i honestly thought of wonwoo too (he’d be the most delicious camboy i swear), but i totally agree he’s way too shy.

i can absolutely envision seungkwan though! seungkwan is a literal charmer. that boy knows exactly what to say to bend people to his will and i love that about him. he seems to really enjoy being in front of people and showing off on camera too. just an exhibitionist overall. precious baby :) he’d love to set up his favorite camera when he’s home alone, adjusting it to the perfect angle so his viewers can see every inch of him. i think his favorite part of the entire camboy experience would be interacting with his viewers. he absolutely adores all the attention he gets from them, and reading through all the comments would make his cock throb even harder. would probably ask them questions just to read their reactions. “do you want me to go faster? would you like it if i edged myself? should i cum for you?” any time he speaks would send his viewers into a frenzy, and he’d eat up the attention in a heartbeat.

mingyu is also someone i can envision as a camboy! gosh have you seen that man? he’s literally the nation’s pretty boy. god body with a gorgeous face and beautiful smile. he’s just too perfect. and he knows he’s handsome too! he’s such a little show off. that’s why i think he’d be the perfect camboy <3 i can see him getting off on knowing people are admiring his body and face. he’d tease his viewers, stripping ever so slowly and showing off little inches of skin at a time. he’d like to keep his viewers on edge and wanting him. i think he’d adore that feeling of knowing he’s wanted, knowing that there are people drooling over him as they watch him from behind their screens. he’d be the absolute best at keeping people on their toes. wouldn’t have too fancy of a setup, would just prop his phone up somewhere and let the people flood in. during the entire session he’d have a little smirk on his face, head lolling and eyes rolling back in pleasure.

i feel like i have to add jeonghan to this list as well. you know how jeonghan is ugh. he’s such a little brat </3 always has that smug look on his face. i feel like jeonghan would be the type to be turned on if he knows he’s being watched. i think he’d like the excitement that comes from letting everyone see him in such a vulnerable state. he’d feel so exposed, but oh he’d love it. knowing that anyone and everyone that watches his videos can see him all horny and desperate would make him cum every time. just the thought of turning on his camera would give him a raging boner. and because people are watching him, that pretty boy would put on a show. moaning a little louder, dragging his fingers over his nipples to make his body jerk more often, edging himself close to tears. would also really like to roll his hips up into his fist with slow languid thrusts, showing his viewers how good he makes himself feel. would chuckle lightly at the needy comments, but never responds just to be a little meanie <3

and finally, i think jun would be a great camboy too! i’m not so sure what it is about jun, but i genuinely think he’d love being a camboy. he’s not as outgoing as other members, and he’s a bit quiet at times, but that wouldn’t stop him from putting on a show <3 i think he’d be a bit shy when he first starts out, maybe showing only up to his neck or mouth when he films. but once he gets into it? oh that boy is a menace. i think he’d really like to either film himself with his phone while he’s in bed, or turn on his webcam when his sits at his desk. some mornings he’d wake up throbbing and hard, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use that opportunity to reach for his phone and start recording. he’d love the lazy morning masturbation sessions, letting out gentle moans and whimpers as he stares at the screen with hooded eyes. looking through all of his dirty comments and good morning messages would bring him to his climax so quick, and that would be his favorite way to start his day.

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Love Bites

Love Bites, Chapter 6 // Love Bites {Masterlist}

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader

Summary: Astarion remembers you, but it's already too late. He's bedded you and remembered the love and life you had together, two hundred years ago, and now he has to make a choice. Does he sacrifice himself, or does he sacrifice you?

Word Count: 9,455

Warnings: 18+, last night alive vibes, Astarion's memory gaps, being gentle with each other, Astarion anticipates being used but is not, vampire bite, mentions of Astarion's sexual abuse (non-con oral), therapeutic talking, reader is protective of Astarion, Astarion's bad at vocalizing his emotions, love confessions, anxiety, putting each other in danger

18+ Warnings: consensual sex, explicit smut, touching, easing into intimacy, oral (m & f receiving), masturbation (m), vaginal sex, consent & check-ins, loving sex, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

Note: Astarion does talk at length about the sexual abuse he's been through (not a lot of it is detailed), so please take care of yourselves as usual and don't read if you're not comfortable!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Astarion clung to your arm the entire walk back to your house. You leaned into him, at first surprised by the lack of body heat but seeming to enjoy his grip on you nonetheless. Instinctively, you put your arm through his and rested your head against his shoulder. He hesitantly placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and you hummed happily. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered to him. 

Astarion hesitated, wanting to return the sentiment but unsure if he should; he had spent the past two hundred years—or most of them, at least—not remembering you. But when you looked up at him with a soft smile, the words tumbled out, an absolute necessity to say, “I missed you, too. Even if I didn’t know it, I…I did.”

You smiled at him, soft and gentle, like you knew exactly what he was referring to, like you knew he had felt a hollow absence for all these years he hadn’t realized was there until you filled it again. 

There was a glint in your eye that Astarion was pleased to recognize. He bent just enough to let you kiss his cheek. The two of you both smiled the minute your lips touched his skin. 

You gave directions as the two of you walked, telling him when to turn and which way, until you came to a stop at a door. It was illuminated by a golden lamp, spilling over its lovely emerald green paint. The color was like a burst of life against Astarion’s eyes, vibrant against the blacks and greys of his Darkvision. 

The door did not hold the same familiarity as you did. He glanced at you as you unlooped your arms and slid a key into the lock. “Is this…where we lived?”

“No,” you said, glancing back at him. “Your parents still live in that house. Our bedroom’s untouched, though. The bed still unmade, curtains still closed… It’s as it was when you left for work that morning.”

Pain split through his heart. “My parents are still alive?” You stopped, almost shocked, and turned to him with your mouth slightly open. Before you could speak, he barreled on, “They still live in the same house?”

You glanced up at the sky, likely trying to gauge how much time you had left. You pushed the door open and gently guided him inside as you answered, “Yes. They found it too painful to leave. Your… Your mother said leaving it would feel like selling all that was left of you to a stranger.” You were quiet for a moment. You began lighting the wicks of candles, revealing a kitchen. “I still go back sometimes. To sit in our room. Every so often I sit on the roof like we used to. And, uh…your parents don’t know this, but I’ve been slowly sneaking away pieces of your clothes. It’s…comforting to have them near me, even if I’m terrified that by wearing them too long I’ll lose your scent.”

Astarion felt like he’d been struck by lightning. His family was alive. His family was alive, had been these past two hundred years, and they still loved him. “My mother…” he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.

You paused in your lighting. “Asty? Are you alright?”

His lower lip trembled. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t know they were still… Do they miss me?”

You came over to him and wrapped your arms around him. “They miss you very much, darling. There hasn’t been a day when your mother has not spoken of you, or a day that your father has not stared at your painting.” You looked up at him. “There has not been a day where any of us do not wish to change what happened that day. To prevent you from going to work. To get you home faster. To convince you to take a different route home. Anything to keep you alive and with us.”

I’m still loved. They love me.

He bit his lower lip. “I wish I could see them again.”

“Perhaps one day you will,” you said. “Perhaps we’ll find a way out.”

Astarion smiled bitterly. “Cazador will take that optimism from you.”

You studied him for a moment, clearly wanting to argue. But instead you just gave him your hand and whispered to him, “Come with me, love.”

A nervousness filled his chest. “I don’t want to do this to you… I don’t want to lose you.”

You cupped his cheeks and pressed your forehead together. Your thumbs smoothing over his cheeks comforted him in a way he never remembered feeling before—but surely you must have done this a thousand times, with the practiced way you touched him. “You aren’t losing me. And you aren’t the one hurting me, darling. It’s your master who has done this to us both.”

Astarion shuddered. “Don’t speak of him. Not here. Not when we’re about to…” He bit his lip. “Not when I can have you again.”

You nodded and kissed his forehead. He leaned into it, some of the tension in his shoulders draining away. “I won’t.” You began walking him out of the kitchen, leading him up a set of stairs. “This way, love.”

Nervous in a way he didn’t ever remember being, Astarion followed you up the stairs. He glanced around the humble dwelling you had made your home—covered in paintings and tapestries and knickknacks that made it homey and welcoming—safe. It felt lived in, contrary to many of the homes of nobility he had found himself in time and time again. It wasn’t something he would have ever designed himself, at least not as he was now, but he liked it anyway. 

The door to your bedroom was open. It was a cozy, open room that felt familiar enough for him to pause at the threshold.

You noticed. “I may have designed it to be similar to our old bedroom. It was comforting.”

Astarion’s eyes scanned the room: a large bed in the middle, covered in soft blankets and piled with pillows, a circular rug underneath it, a mirror on the wall next to your wardrobe. Your desk was covered with paints and powders and pieces of jewelry similar to what you wore now. 

“I like it,” he said quietly. “I… We lived in a place like this?”

You nodded, sitting in the chair at your desk. He watched you take off your jewelry and take your hair down. “Our bedroom had a different color scheme and it was a little bit bigger. We had a washroom connected to it and two wardrobes—yours was bigger than mine. And we had a balcony we used to sit on late at night. But we shared a desk and I wore your clothes more often than I wore mine.” You smiled at him. “You used to tease me that if you couldn’t find one of your shirts, it was either in my wardrobe or on my body.”

You stood and closed the curtains of the two windows that let moonlight stream into the room. Darkness fell for a moment and Astarion watched your dim figure move to one side of the bed. You struck a match and an oil lamp flared to life. 

“Simpler than magic,” you explained. Then the two of you stared at each other. 

Astarion didn’t know where to start. He knew how to manipulate his victims into bed with him nearly every night. He knew what to say, how to move, when to smile, when to make the approach. But with you in front of him, suddenly all his best tricks seemed useless. 

You cocked your head to the side, noticing his hesitation. “Astarion?”

“I don’t know where to start,” he whispered. 

“Then let me?” you suggested. He nodded. 

You removed your apron and draped it over the back of the chair. You reached around behind you and loosened the strings of your corset, slipping it off after a moment. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but the movement still made Astarion’s throat tighten. Somehow, your movements—unpracticed for two hundred years—were more alluring than the nobles Cazador made him bed or the unfortunate virgins tripping over themselves to have him. 

It’s because it’s you, he knew. You weren’t just alluring—you were comforting. His body was strangely present, strangely here, as you undressed for him. 

You pulled off your skirt and left yourself in a poet shirt similar to the one Astarion himself had worn until it fell apart and then sewn back together time and time again. You glanced up at him for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. Astarion nodded eagerly, taking a step closer to you. So you pulled the shirt up over your head and stood before him.

Your undergarments were made of delicate lace. Automatically, Astarion reached out to touch them—touch you—then hesitated, looking into your eyes, suddenly afraid his instinct had been wrong.

But you only stepped forward and guided his hand to the fabric covering your chest. His touch seemed to arrest you for a moment before you stuttered out, “You gave them to me. The set was an anniversary gift. Somehow I knew when I dressed this morning I wanted this piece of you close to me.”

Warmth bloomed in the pit of his stomach—arousal, actual arousal, not the response he had forced himself to have when his victims got naked. He felt himself stir in his leathers.

Astarion let his fingers trail over the edge of the lace. Your eyes fluttered closed, your breaths coming in heaves. “Well, I…had good taste.”

You touched his chest, fingers trailing over the gold embroidery of his doublet. “You still do, darling.” You let out a heavy, pleased sigh. “Oh, gods, Astarion, please. Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he breathed desperately, leaning into you. “Yes.”

You stood on your tiptoes; he bent down. As your lips touched, his arms looped around your waist and settled there, holding you against him. Your lips were soft, gentle, welcoming. You let him take the next step instead of forcing it. It was a kindness he wasn’t sure you knew was a kindness. 

He sucked your lower lip between his. You whined softly and then tried to pull away, clearly embarrassed by your need for him, but it brought a smile to his face. He chased your lips and brought one hand to rest between your shoulder blades, guiding you back to him. He kissed you again, softly at first, then licked your lip, asking for more. You obliged him with a slight smile of your own. 

Your tongues slid together, both of you careful of his fangs. After all these years, Astarion had gotten good at hiding them, even during a kiss—but he didn’t feel the need to hide them from you, only keep your tongue away from them.

One of your hands slid into his hair. He tensed momentarily, bracing for an unrelenting tug, but you only scratched his scalp with your nails. He relaxed against you, falling deeper into the kiss. 

When you parted, it was slow, both of you reluctant to part from each other. Your chest was heaving, your breasts straining pleasantly against the delicate lace. Astarion’s eyes dropped to the sight, mesmerized for several moments. Then he looked back up at you with a smile on your face. 

“I missed you,” you breathed. “I’ve missed that.” You toyed with his collar absentmindedly. But your eyes were fixed on his, clear and resolute, some concern clouding your blown pupils. “Are you alright?”

He nodded. “More than alright. You… You’re so gentle with me.”

“Is that what you want?” 

Quickly, he nodded again, almost desperate this time. He didn’t really want to explain the sudden tears that rushed to his eyes, but judging from the heartbreak he saw in yours, you had guessed his reasoning. 

“Then gentle we will be,” you promised. “Soft. Sweet. Slow. Like our old mornings.” Your fingers found the clasps of his doublet. “May I…?”

“You may,” he said, unbearably happy that you had asked. The feeling grew stronger as you carefully undid each clasp, rather than ripping them apart so fast and so hard that he had to fix them when the night was over. He reached up to help you undress him. 

You took the time to ask him before you removed any clothes. You took the time to admire him as skin was revealed. You took the time to kiss him when he hesitantly asked for it. You took the time to wait when you saw his uncertainty, holding him and stroking his hair. 

Is this what it feels like to be loved? 

When Astarion was left standing in only his boxers, you gently led him to the bed. You hooked your fingers into his waistband and met his eyes. Before you could even ask, he whispered, “Pull them off.”

You smiled at him and did so, your touch still light. You spared his half-hard cock only a glance as you stood back up and met his gaze. Astarion could still see the want in your eyes. But instead of doing what you wanted with him, you turned and said over your shoulder, “Would you like to take mine off?”

“Yes,” he whispered, lifting his hands to undo the clasps of your bra. He slipped the straps off your shoulders after you turned back around to him. He let himself admire your breasts as they were exposed before he dropped his hands to your hips and removed your panties in one graceful move that seemed to surprise you. 

“You were always good, but you’re better at this than I remembered,” you said by way of explanation, your cheeks turning pink. “You were always so shy when you undressed me, no matter how many times you had been inside me.”

For some reason, he felt guilty. “I’m sorry I changed.”

You shook your head, cupping his cheek. “Don’t apologize. Not for that. We’ve all changed. We would have changed whether you had died or not.” Your gaze drifted back down his body appreciatively, then to his cock. 

Skin crawling with self-consciousness, familiar from times having to improvise to explain away the struggle to get hard (especially without being able to explain how little blood he actually had in his body), but stronger now that it was you looking at the weakness that took away from the one thing he was good for, Astarion explained, truthfully for the first time, “I can’t get hard right away, not without blood and…and he starves us. Once we actually start, I can do more, but—”

You put your finger to his lips and lay on the bed. “Will it hurt?”

Astarion blinked at you. “What?”

“Your bite. Will it hurt?”

For a moment, it didn’t process what you meant. Then— “You want me to feed from you?”

You nodded. “I’m more than willing to work you up myself if you’d prefer, but…I’ll admit I’m curious. Besides…you finally have someone who knows what you are and loves you anyway. Bite me. Feed the only time you can.”

Astarion stepped closer to the bed, his hunger rearing its head. “Are you sure you want me to?”

You nodded and gestured him closer to you and, after a single moment’s deliberation that ended with the sole thought of, Fuck it!, Astarion crawled over you. You smiled up at him with a fond amazement. He grinned. “You’ve seen this view before, haven’t you?”

“Often,” you said. “I dreamt of this nearly every night. It’s almost hard to believe you’re right here… I half-suspect I’ll wake up in the morning and none of this will have happened.”

Astarion bent and began peppering your neck with soft kisses. Your blood smelled sweet, pumping through your veins with strength. “Believe me, darling, this is very, very real…”

You craned your neck, exposing the column of your throat to him. Astarion pressed his nose to your pulse point and breathed in deeply. He moaned, his whole body shuddering. You put your hand back in his hair, scratching softly. “Please…” you whispered, and all of Astarion’s restraint snapped.

He drew back enough to bare his fangs and sink them into your throat. You gasped sharply. He would have asked if you were alright if your blood did not suddenly fill his mouth, sweet and tangy and heavy all at once. He swallowed and instantly felt the difference. Bugs and rats were enough to keep him functional, surviving—this was enough to let him live. 

The next few pulls of blood had you whimpering pleasantly and warmth filling his body. Strength returned to his muscles with every mouthful and his chest began to move with the illusion of breathing. He became aware of the throbbing need in his cock and began grinding on your thigh. Your responding gasp quickly became a moan and your arms tightened around him.

Somehow, Astarion knew the exact moment that you had become equals again; he had taken half your blood and any more would kill you. In fact, any more and he would be too drunk on it to stop himself from killing you. 

Drain her. Drink her dry and go back to Cazador with enough strength to escape him.

The thought terrified him. He pulled away from you quickly, your blood dripping down his chin and onto your chest. He licked the open wounds of your neck clean of blood before he sat back and stared down at you.

You were paler than you had been when he started, but your eyes fluttered open and you reached up weakly to wipe the thin trail of blood away from the corner of his mouth. You offered him your thumb and he sucked it into his mouth without thinking, licking the blood from your skin. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing a hand through your hair.

You nodded. “A little woozy, but I’ll live.”

Astarion decided not to tell you how close you had come to not living. “What did it feel like?”

You paused, thinking. Eventually, you said, “Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It was…intimate. Magical. It was ecstasy in a form I’ve never felt before. Pain that turned into pleasure. I felt…connected with you more wholly than ever before. We always said we were one when we had sex, but that…that was being one.” You met his gaze again and breathed out one word: “Wonderful.”

Astarion couldn’t help it; he kissed you needily, pressing his entire body to yours. You responded willingly, even when the kiss turned into a tight hug that allowed him to hide his face in your shoulder so you wouldn’t see his tears. 

Eventually, you tapped his shoulder. “Sit on the edge of the bed, darling.”

A tingle of anticipation raced up Astarion’s spine—clearly his body remembered what you were going to do, even if he did not. You slid to your knees and spread his legs apart far enough to get between them. He tried to hide his shock; you wanted to pleasure him? Time and time he had been forced onto his knees and made to take a cock in his mouth, but he couldn’t remember the last time someone had done it for him… In fact, you were probably the last person to have done it, years and years ago.

“Darling, you don’t have to—”

You looked up at him. “Do you want me to?”

His chest tightened. “Yes,” he whispered.

You smiled slightly. “Then let me pleasure you, Asty.”

“Okay,” he breathed, his chest heaving with phantom breaths as he watched you lean in. You kissed the base of his cock and a quiet whine escaped him. You dragged your tongue up his length and kissed his tip before you took him into your mouth. He threw his head back, groaning. His eyes fluttered as you sucked gently, licking the underside of his cock every so often. Occasionally you popped off of him to kiss up and down his length and the sensitive area around it.

“Look at me,” you breathed. He did as you asked and you went back down on him, holding eye contact with him. He whimpered and bit his lower lip, muffling the sound. You made a face. “Let me hear you, Astarion.”

His answer was a whine as you licked a stripe along the underside of him. He brought his hand to your head and held you as you licked and kissed him. It didn’t take long for him to give into the pleasure; he began to mumble in Elvish to you until the words couldn’t roll off his tongue anymore and began coming out as moans, both low- and high-pitched. Some part of Astarion was deeply embarrassed by his sounds—but he knew now if he tried to hide them, you’d stop, and, gods above, that was the last thing he wanted. But you didn’t let up again and before he could stop himself or even warn you, he was cumming down your throat. 

And you let him. You pulled off of him only when you were sure he was spent. He flopped onto his back, panting heavily. A thrill went up his spine as he watched you swallow his spend, crawling up on his body to join him on the bed.

“That was… Hells, that was good,” he groaned as you laid next to him, getting perfectly cozy against his blood-warmed body. “How did you…?”

“You taught me,” you reminded him with a laugh. “How else did you think I knew exactly what you liked?”

“You could just have really good instincts,” he said, rolling onto his side to kiss you. He cradled you in his arms, holding you as tightly against his body as he could. You melted into his hug readily.

You pulled away for a moment and just stared at him, your eyes peering into his like you could see his soul. A little nervous, Astarion just watched you, taking in the way your eyes roamed over his face and how your lips easily came up into a happy, satisfied smile.

“What?” he whispered when the love on your face was almost too much to bear.

“Nothing,” you said. Then you shook your head. “Well, it’s not nothing. I…never thought I’d see your face again. Not really, not outside of my dreams. So I’m just… I’m glad to have you back.” You reached up and trailed your fingers across his cheekbone. He leaned into your touch. 

Slowly, Astarion began to return the favor, running his fingers across your body. He watched the way you shuddered beneath his touch, paid attention to when you giggled, noticed when your eyes fluttered shut and your body relaxed. He felt like he was learning how you ticked, but there was something about every movement you made that was almost painfully familiar. He had done this to you before, likely thousands of times, and had enjoyed squeezing your hips in his hands and groping your breasts and kissing every available inch of your skin.

“How many times?” he breathed against your sternum, pausing as he kissed down your body. You hummed and he clarified: “How many times did we do this?”

Your eyes were closed, your face the picture of contentment. “You mean the sex or the touching?”

“Touching.”

“Every night,” you answered. “Every night before we went to bed, whether we were naked or not, whether we had sex or not, we would do this. We’d cuddle and kiss and caress each other until one of us fell into trance or sleep, whatever we decided to do that night.”

“Gods,” he whispered. “I… I didn’t realize it, but I missed it. I think.”

You hesitated for a moment. Then you whispered, “I thought you did this every night.”

“Almost every night,” he corrected. “And…never like this. Never soft. Never gentle. Never…loving. It’s always rough and demanding, brutal.” He glanced at you, expecting criticism, but your face was open. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy that he slept with other people, nor anger that he was complaining about getting laid nightly when you had spent the years alone. So he continued. “I wake up sore and sometimes bleeding in places I didn’t know I could bleed from.”

You curled your arms around him protectively. “Oh, Asty… Love, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad for you,” you insisted. 

Disagreement coiled in Astarion’s belly, but he didn’t voice it, instead laying his head against your chest. He sighed happily when you began to scratch your fingers through his scalp. He remained like that for a few minutes before the words began to tumble out of him, slowly at first, then gaining momentum and—to his surprise—anger.

“It’s not always…random people from taverns. Sometimes he’ll…assign me victims. I’ll be sent to them. Nobles, mostly, who he wants for his thralls. Sometimes he sends them back out into the world to do his bidding, not keeping them the way he keeps me or my siblings, or draining them into dry, mummified corpses like most of the people I bring back for him. But if I don’t bring them back in the single night he gives me— Well. I’d be scarred horribly if vampires didn’t heal quickly, and even then, I don’t heal as quickly as I should so sometimes I go out the next night still wrapped in dirty cloth for bandages, bleeding through them, expected to bring home yet another meal.” 

Astarion paused long enough for you to have a quick interjection. “You have siblings?” 

“Of a sort. There are six others. Six spawn he made to do his bidding.”

“And are you all expected to…fetch your victims the same way?”

Astarion shook his head. “No. Yousen’s a gnome, for gods’ sake, who’s going to sleep with a gnome and not a handsome creature such as myself?”

You rolled your eyes. “There are plenty of people who find gnomes attractive, even if you don’t,” you chastised. 

He sighed. “But you get my point. He made his spawn from people with…different talents, so to speak, to bring in his meals. But if we fail, we all get treated the same way. Beaten. Bitten. Used. He…he does it to me more than the others. I’m his favorite to torture.”

“You mentioned that,” you murmured, touching his ear gently. His cock twitched with pleasure and he gasped. You froze. “Do you want me to stop?”

Hesitantly, he nodded. “Just— Just for a moment…please.”

Immediately, before he had even finished speaking, you removed your hand from his ear. “Alright.”

Surprise flooded his body. No one had ever listened to him before. No one had ever taken his ‘no’ to be a no. They always kept doing what hurt him, what he hated, what made his skin crawl with disgust and hate and fear. 

But you…listened. You more than listened, you stopped.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “It’s just— I…I’m not quite ready to do anything else yet. There’s so much I want to say because I’ve never been able to before and I don’t… I don’t want to ruin the moment, but…”

“But trying to push through will ruin it anyway for you,” you said, understanding him immediately. “That’s alright. Just keep talking, my love, and I will listen to everything.”

Oh, gods above, you understood him. Astarion felt the strong urge to cry until he had no tears left, all out of relief. Instead, he kept talking.

“He hosts grand, lavish parties from time to time. On those nights, we spawn are forced to pose as his…servants. It’s almost a relief to have a break, but then…then there’s the afterparties. And I’m his entertainment at the afterparties. They’re more…orgies than parties by then and I’m at the center of it all, dressed however he wants me for the night, which is sometimes nothing. He lets the partygoers use me however they wish. He orders them to, in fact. It hurts and hurts and hurts until it suddenly doesn’t because I can’t feel anything anymore.” His tears dripped onto your skin. You cooed softly, trying to comfort him, but you said nothing to stop him, so he kept going. ���It’s not just the parties, either. It’s… Well, it’s like this. I’m his favorite to torture, and I’m his favorite to…to use.” 

You made a sound of both sympathy and rage. “Asty…”

Your whisper was lost in his continued tirade. “Whenever he wants, I’m there and I’m meant to do whatever he wants me to do and let him do everything he can to me. The others all know. They know I’m Cazador’s plaything and they think I get…special treatment for it. They don’t see how much it hurts, they don’t see that I suffer every night, because I don’t suffer like they do. No, no, I get to have sex! I get one of life’s simple pleasures while he beats them! So how is it fair that I complain?” Astarion looked up at you, his eyes shining with tears. “How is it fair that I complain?”

“It’s not your fault,” you said firmly. “It’s not. Darling, none of this is on you. Your master is…a leech. Yes, he’s a leech, taking what does not belong to him, forcing misery upon you. Astarion, please listen to me, honey. I mean it. This is not your fault. He is sowing dissent amongst all of you on purpose because it is the only way he can control you. If you all were to band together—”

“We’re his thralls, he can control us anyway,” Astarion snapped. “Anything he wants us to do, we do. It’s why I haven’t been able to stop him from—” He fell silent and buried his face in your chest, an unreasonable shame burrowing in his chest. He knew it was unreasonable; he knew you were at least somewhat right. He had no control over his life, and yet… The shame was there anyway. “Poetry. That’s what he said he carved into me. That’s the scar on my back.”

Automatically, your hand drifted from his hair to his shoulder. Before touching the scar you asked, “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes. It hurt then, when he had to correct his mistakes because I couldn’t keep still enough.”

“Can I touch it?”

He nodded slowly and braced himself. But your touch was gentle and soothing. Your fingers ghosted across the raised marks and you peeked over his shoulder at it.

“It’s written in Infernal,” you murmured. “Last I checked, that’s not exactly the language of poets.”

Astarion raised his head. “Really? I…I didn’t know. What does it say?”

You shrugged. “I can recognize it, but I can’t read it.”

Astarion sighed and fell back against your chest. 

“What do you want to do?” you whispered to him.

“Hold me,” he breathed.

So you wrapped your arms around him and held him tightly to your body, his head against your chest, his own arms coming around your waist. You held each other in silence for quite a while. Your hand began to scratch his scalp and a gentle sound that was close to a purr escaped him. After a few moments, your hand went back to his ear. When he didn’t protest, you began rubbing his ear lightly.

A soft moan escaped Astarion’s lips. He looked up at you, his hips already beginning to grind into the mattress. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you reminded him. “You are more than just sex.”

“I want to,” he whispered, the statement true for the first time in nearly two centuries. “It’s… It’s you, of course I want to.”

You whimpered quietly at the words and pressed a tiny kiss to his forehead. “Only if you’re sure, honey.”

“I’m sure,” he promised. 

It didn’t take long for the heat in his body to rebuild. You caressed every sensitive spot on his body with care and intimate knowledge of who he was: his ears, the nape of his neck, his Adonis belt, his nipples. You touched him with a reverence that felt almost like worship and made his entire body tremble with need. You suckled on his nipples until he moaned loudly and ripped himself away from you to do the same to you. 

Very quickly you learned to give him control. He hovered above you, sucking hickies into your neck and chest, happily leaving little bites on your tits as he went.

“You can draw blood,” you whispered to him in the middle of a bite and he moaned delightedly, letting his fangs scratch your skin until you bled and licking up the crimson droplets. He met your gaze as he let his tongue linger on a deeper cut and found you looking down at him fondly, toying with one of his curls between your fingers. 

Astarion adjusted to slip a hand between your bodies. He cupped your exposed cunt and grinned at the sight of your head going back, exposing the column of your throat to him.

“I’ve barely touched you, darling,” he teased. 

“And I’ve waited two hundred years for this,” you reminded him. “Any touch is enough, but, hells, please put your fingers inside of me.”

“Needy,” he joked, but did as you asked, spreading your pussy to drag his fingers up your slit. He placed his slick fingers on your clit and began to rub gentle circles. You gasped, your body arching up into his. He chuckled and moved up to kiss you sweetly. His tongue against yours was a balm to the both of you; you calmed down enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders and he felt any lingering doubts slip away. 

You were his. You had always been his. You were not just another victim, you were the woman he loved, the woman he had been so devoted to that he was going to marry you. You were not using him like the others.

You seemed to read his thoughts and filled in the last possibility, murmuring against his soft lips, “I love you, Astarion.”

He moaned into your mouth. A single tear slipped past his closed eyelid and fell on your cheek. 

“I love you,” you whispered again. “You don’t have to say it back. I just want you to know.”

Astarion slipped two fingers into you, curling them deep inside you. You arched into him again, moaning obscenely. He giggled again; if just two fingers could make you this happy, what would you do when you felt his cock inside you again?

He pumped his fingers slowly until your hips bucked into his hand, wordlessly asking for more. He picked up the pace until you began panting. He watched you grow closer and closer to the edge, your body writhing, your eyebrows pinching together, your mouth falling open to let out delicious moans. He was almost tempted to just let you finish on his fingers, but… 

Gods, he wanted to taste you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. You whined his name, pitifully, already begging, already asking, “Why did you stop?”

Astarion’s answer was not verbal. Grinning, he dropped to his knees quickly and shuffled closer to the edge of the bed. He yanked you to the edge, letting your legs dangle over his shoulders, and leaned in. You held eye contact as he pressed a kiss to your clit. Then a second. Then a third. By the time he got to the fourth kiss and latched his lips around your sensitive nub, your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

“Astarion,” you moaned, your hand twisting into his hair but not pulling.

He began to suck gently, letting the pressure drive you wild. He licked your clit slowly, lavishing attention on it with his tongue, feeling you grow very, very wet against his chin. He dropped a little lower to tongue at your entrance, the taste of your arousal pulling a moan from deep in his chest. You gasped at the vibration, your hips rutting against his face. He chuckled into you and slid his tongue inside you, lapping at your cunt. You were delicious in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He knew that his heightened senses meant that he could smell every bit of your arousal, every emotion inside of you, every liquid in your body—but he had not expected your lust to be infused with your love for him. 

It was a new feeling, a new taste. He liked it. 

Astarion reached up and coated his hand in your dripping arousal. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock and began stroking slowly, allowing himself to enjoy it, feeling the heady rush of blood to completely harden his cock. His hips rocked gently, the pace increasing when he glanced up at you and found you smiling as you panted, your breasts heaving. 

He released himself to bring his hand back up to your cunt. He sunk his fingers into your wet entrance and returned to sucking on your clit. You cried out, your hips bucking, and he grinned against your slick skin. 

“Cum for me,” he whispered against you, loud enough for you to hear his command. “Let me taste you. Cum on my face, darling.”

You clenched around his fingers, moaning the loudest you had all night. There was a fresh rush of wetness and the lewd sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you grew louder. Astarion slipped his fingers out of you and his tongue back into your cunt to taste you as your orgasm ripped through you. He put his thumb on your clit and started rubbing.

Astarion’s eyes fluttered shut as he tasted your cum. You were sweet, absolutely divine, your ecstasy meant entirely for him. He groaned into your pussy and your legs wrapped around his head, helping to bury him in your slick entrance. He giggled, more than happy to stay there longer and keep licking your cum out of you.

He tapped your thigh when he was done and you put your shaking legs back to the floor. He got to his feet and crawled over you, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. You moaned into his mouth, then made a sound of surprise.

“Do you taste yourself on my tongue?” he whispered, looking at you with hooded eyes.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Good.” He kissed you again, grinding on your thigh to ease the throbbing in his cock. You groaned at the feeling, your arms tightening around his neck. You broke away from his mouth to pepper his face in tiny, loving kisses.

An overwhelming fondness filled him and he pulled away from you enough to meet your gaze. You trailed your fingertips over his cheekbone and then to his ear, rubbing gently again. He hummed happily and opened his eyes to see your face as he whispered, “I love you, too.”

You stopped, your eyes widening, your lips parting. Gods, you were beautiful. “Do you really mean—?”

“Yes,” he breathed quickly and bent down to kiss you again. You hummed into his mouth, pulling his body down onto yours. He paused in his grinding, wanting to be against you more than he wanted the friction.

“I love you,” both of you said at the same time, then burst into little giggles. You nuzzled into each other, Astarion’s cheeks hurting from the smile he couldn’t seem to drop. Then you kissed him and pulled his lower lip between your teeth. You tugged slightly.

Astarion pulled back and then glanced down your body to where his cock rested on your stomach. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He grinned. “Spread your legs a little wider for me, sweet girl.”

You did as he asked without a second thought and he settled between your legs. He guided himself against your entrance, notching the head of his cock there. He looked up at you again and you nodded. He smiled softly, kissed you once, and then looked back down to watch himself sink into you.

Astarion moved slowly, careful not to hurt you, well aware that you hadn’t been fucked in two hundred years. You sucked in a deep breath, keeping your eyes on him as he pushed into you. Astarion let out a low groan as you squeezed around him, already a tight fit, your warmth and wetness enveloping him. When he bottomed out, you released your breath, your head falling back against the pillows. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered. 

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I’m alright. Gods… You feel…right. It’s…it’s almost as if it were yesterday you made love to me for the last time.”

He bent down enough to kiss your forehead. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to make love to you?”

“Please,” you whispered. 

Astarion began to move. He started with shallow thrusts, trying to allow you time to adjust and get used to the feeling, watching the pleasure on your face as he did. He held himself up with one hand and let the other slide up and down your side comfortingly.

Eventually, you turned your head to kiss his wrist. “More,” you said quietly. When he raised his eyebrow, prompting you, your already flushed cheeks turned scarlet and you amended, “Deeper.”

“Good girl,” he said and let his next thrust bring his pelvis to yours. Both of you moaned into each other. Your breaths came faster as he began to hit that spot deep inside of you over and over again, sure to never go too hard. Then you whispered, “Harder, Asty,” and all restraint left his limbs. 

Astarion lifted your leg to get a better angle and began pounding into you relentlessly, grunting with every thrust. Your moans became punctuated and he slowed down briefly to let you get some air.

Your response was to throw both legs around his hips, tug him down to you, and breathe into his ear, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop doing what you’re doing, darling.”

Astarion moaned happily and hurried back into his fast pace. You pulled him into a bruising kiss and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Can I touch your back?” you whispered and he nodded quickly. 

“Scratch at me all you want, sweetness,” he replied and your blush darkened.

You settled your hands on his upper back, your nails digging in just slightly as you held onto him. You crossed your ankles at the small of his back and let him drill into you.

Lips, teeth, and tongues clashed into each other as you made out messily, the sound of your spit-slicked kisses drowned out by the rhythmic smacking of your hips into each other. You felt a soreness begin to build, pleasant and familiar and distinctly Astarion.

For his part, Astarion was pleasantly surprised at how present he was. He found himself electing to keep his eyes open to see the ecstasy wash over your face when he wasn’t kissing you and he smiled at every moan, every “Oh gods” you let out, every cry of his name that left your lips. His whole body buzzed with pleasure and his cock throbbed inside of you. He nuzzled into your neck, kissing softly and nipping gently, not taking blood from you this time. He tongued over the bite he left earlier, licking the dried residue of your blood, but the wound had since closed. 

“I love you,” he murmured against your skin. “And I am so sorry that I have been gone.”

You kissed his cheek briefly. “I love you, too.”

Astarion groaned into your neck, then pushed himself back up, fucking into your pussy wildly. “You feel so godsdamn good,” he panted, grinning down at you. “I haven’t felt this way in…a very long time.”

You gently squeezed his hips with your legs and reached up to cup his face. “I’ve missed how perfect you feel,” you said. “How you always hit the right spots.” You moaned as he did exactly that, your entire body tensing, preparing for your orgasm.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Very,” you breathed. 

He brushed your hair from your face. “Cum whenever you’re ready, darling. I want to feel you spasm around me.”

You whimpered. “Oh, Asty,” you moaned. You relaxed into the mattress. “Go a little harder and I’ll be there.”

He did as you asked, pounding into you fast and hard and just a little bit rough. He reached down to put his fingers on your clit and you let out a shriek, clenching tightly around him. He gasped, his cock twitching at the stimulation. You threw your head back, nearly screaming as you came around him, his name lost somewhere in your shrieks of pleasure. The fresh slickness of your cum surrounded him and he glanced down to find a ring of white on his cock, getting thicker and brighter by the second.

The grunts that fell from Astarion’s mouth were rougher, louder. He squeezed his eyes shut and then forced them open again.

“Darling—” he gasped, his entire body trembling with exertion as he tried to stave off his impending orgasm. “I’m— I’m gonna cum, oh gods, where do you— Where do you want it?”

There was a soft look on your face as you whispered, “Inside. Inside like the last time you ever fucked me.”

Astarion groaned, the reveal bringing tears to his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tear drop from his lashes. Your thumb came up to his face and wiped gently at his eye. He whimpered, leaning into your touch.

“Cum for me, honey,” you whispered, softly cupping his cheek.

Astarion whined and kissed your palm, burying himself to the hilt. He moaned loudly, tilting his head back, and it quickly became a series of high-pitched whimpers as ecstasy washed through his body. He trembled, holding himself up until he was spent. Then he collapsed on top of you, panting harshly.

You held him close, soothing him with quiet hushes and soft whispers of how wonderful he had done for you. You kissed the top of his head, running your hand through his curls, murmuring your love to him with a smile on your face. 

Eventually, Astarion pulled out of you. You whimpered and he whispered a soft apology. He sat back to watch his seed drip out of you. Fascinated, he gently swiped his fingers through your mixed releases. You shuddered. He held his fingers up to your mouth. You quirked an eyebrow at him at first, then opened your mouth and let him slide his fingers between your lips. Dutifully, you licked them clean.

“I guess we’ve never done that before, huh?” he joked, laying back down on you. He kissed you sweetly, enjoying the taste of you and him together on his tongue. 

You shook your head. “Nope. You only came inside me for one night.” He raised an eyebrow and you explained carefully, “I’d been tracking my cycle so I knew you could cum inside me without us getting pregnant too early. We wanted to wait until after our wedding to start trying for a baby.”

Astarion’s heart nearly broke. “We…we wanted a family.”

You nodded, smiling in a way that made Astarion feel like you knew the pain twisting in his chest at the moment. “We’d told your parents we wanted one the night before you died. They were…ecstatic. You know, I’m almost surprised they didn’t push us to move the wedding up so we could start faster.”

He laughed, more a huff than anything with how exhausted he was. “I take it they didn’t know about us taking the risk of finishing inside you?”

You grinned. “Well… We didn’t tell them, exactly, but I’m guessing they figured it out with how loud you made me scream that night.”

Astarion smirked. “Was it louder than you just were?”

“Oh, much louder,” you said, somehow teasing and serious at the same time. “I thought the entire neighborhood could hear you making me scream.”

“So I’ve always been good at sex, then?”

You shrugged. “Not…exactly. The first few times were a little…subpar in comparison to what our sex life became, the sex we just had. But because it was you, because it was so new…we still enjoyed it.”

The two of you shuffled to lay on your sides, facing each other. You snuggled against his chest and Astarion held you tightly, pressing soft, lingering kisses to every inch of your face. 

“I love you,” he murmured. “And I see why I loved you then. You are…perfect. Considerate. Gentle. You don’t…push for things I don’t want to do. You just know what I like, even after all this time… I had thought I had changed, but…”

“You did change,” you said. “But not so much that I don’t recognize the man underneath all your disguises, all your layers. You are, deep down, still my Astarion.”

He curled more tightly around you. “I like being yours.”

You kissed his nose. “I like it, too.”

The pair of you lapsed into comfortable silence. Astarion listened to your breathing and your steady heartbeat, watching your chest rise and fall against his, moving as if he was also breathing. 

You were so comfortable with him… So vulnerable. You trusted him with your exposed neck, with your bare body, with your love. Hells, how he wished he could remember what he had done to earn that trust. How he wished he could keep your trust.

Some time later, you mumbled into his skin, “It’s two hours until dawn, my love.”

Fear crept back into Astarion’s mind. “I know.”

“We should get going soon.”

He held you just a little tighter. “Not— Not quite yet, darling. Let me hold you for a few minutes more.”

You smiled knowingly against his chest and Astarion wondered how many mornings he had refused to get up, electing instead for a few more minutes in bed with you, your limbs tangled and the sheets just barely covering your lower halves. “Alright.”

Astarion pressed a grateful kiss to the top of your head. His mind began to spin with the beginnings of half-baked plans. The two of you could run, leave now and get as far away as possible. He could simply not go back, he could hide here with you until night fell again and then the two of you could leave. He could bring you back to Cazador with a plan, with a way to kill him or escape him or both in mind.

Every plan fell short. Nothing would work. Cazador had too many eyes in the city to disappear this quickly. 

We’d never escape alive. And while Astarion was certain that death—true death—would be a relief in comparison to the past two hundred years, he wasn’t willing to force that on you.

He glanced at you, still tucked into his arm, a peaceful look on your face. He tried to capture the image in his mind for a few moments, then stirred and gently slipped out from underneath you. He stood and slowly put his clothes back on.

You watched him do so, sitting up on your arms to grin at him. “Now that’s a sight that never gets old.”

Astarion frowned. “Me putting clothes back on?”

You nodded, reaching for your dress. Astarion helped you get it over your head. “It reminds me of our early mornings when you’d get ready for work and I’d watch you primp and preen until you were perfect.” You adjusted your dress, then looked up at him. “Here—let me fix your hair, I messed it up when I put my hands in it.”

Astarion watched your face, your expression twisted into concentration, your tongue poking out just slightly, as you carded your fingers through his curls and arranged them. When you were satisfied, you stepped back.

“There, good as new,” you said and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Are you ready?”

Astarion clenched his jaw. “Are you? Are you sure you want to do this? I…I really shouldn’t do this, darling, I should just take the punishment—”

“No,” you said firmly. “I will never forgive myself if I know you’re out there, getting hurt, because I wouldn’t go with you.”

“Darling—”

“Take me to him,” you insisted. “Don’t get yourself hurt for me.”

Still, Astarion bit his lip so hard he tasted his blood. “But isn’t that what we should do? I’d be protecting you—”

“I would be putting you in danger, Asty,” you insisted, cupping his cheek. “Please. Please do this and we will find a way out of this, alright? Even if it’s a last-ditch, desperate attempt to run—we’ll do something. I promise you, love.”

It won’t be enough. It will never be enough. But Astarion didn’t want to dash your hopes; naive as it was, it was relieving to see hope after two hundred years without it. It almost convinced him that you would be the lucky soul to escape Cazador’s bite, his eternal punishment. 

Astarion offered you his hand. “Are you ready, darling?”

You nodded, slipping your hand into his. “Ready.”

Before you left, you extinguished the lamps like normal and locked your door behind you like it was any other outing. You slipped the key into a hidden pocket in your dress Astarion hadn’t realized was even there. He admired the stitchwork as you walked hand-in-hand down the street. Despite the anxiety wriggling away in his stomach, Astarion let himself enjoy the feeling of walking with you, touching you, enjoying the last few moments of the night air with you. 

The Szarr residence loomed ahead far too quickly, the palace towers casting a horrible shadow across the road leading up to it. Astarion glanced at you as the pair of you passed into the shadows.

“Last chance to back out, darling,” he said quietly. “I can always circle back to an alleyway and drag some poor soul out—”

“No, Asty,” you said gently. “If that was a real option, you would have already done it.”

He sighed and nodded. “Alright. But—darling?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for what might happen in there, what he’ll do to you.”

You smiled at him. “You don’t have to be sorry, honey, it’s not your fault. Nothing he does to me is your fault.”

“I brought you here,” he insisted. “I brought you here knowing what you’ll have to go through. I could just take the beating, but… I don’t want to, so I’m letting you suffer like I should.”

For the first time, Astarion saw a glimmer of doubt in your eyes. Your steps faltered and he felt the shudder that passed through your body. You licked your dry lips.

“What’s he going to do?”

A painful first bite. Drink you dry. Bury you. Make you dig your way out of your coffin. Trap you in chains the minute you’re free of the dirt. Whip you until you bleed and then lick your wounds. Astarion’s experience flashed through his head. But the fear on your face… He couldn’t tell you any of that, could he?

“Terrible things,” Astarion said gravely. It came out far darker than he intended and he knew what a terrifying sight he was: weak light in his hair, his red eyes glowing in the shadows, his fangs flashing in the dark with every word. You shrank away from him, stopping in your tracks, and inched out of the shadows. 

“Astarion, I—”

Fear gripped his undead heart, tainted his vision, thrummed in his veins. Astarion hissed and lunged, grabbing your arm with a vice-like grip. “Come on,” he insisted, just slightly aware of the growl in his voice. You resisted for just a moment, but Astarion was stronger than you were; it only took a tug to pull you back into the shadow of the tower. 

Servants of Cazador’s opened the doors for Astarion when they recognized him. They couldn’t hide their shock that he was dragging a victim in, his facade of the perfect lover dropped, and something clicked inside him.

It’s not Cazador who scares her; it’s me.

Astarion nearly let go of you. Then he felt the eyes of his siblings boring into him, all six waiting in a clustered group, and he knew Cazador was near. There was no escape for you now.

Astarion tightened his grip on you and dragged you into the palace’s shadows. He watched your feet cross the threshold, damning you eternally. The door slammed shut.

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

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[kana-de]

silence.

tomioka giyuu x gn!reader.

⭒ summary: everyone knows that giyuu isn't much of a talker, so this depicts the silent moments with him that you both have come enjoy.

⭑ cw: sfw. mentions of giyuu's past (final selection w sabito). a bit of angst. reader is bad at comforting. giyuu loves you sm. like loves.

⭒ wc: 2.8k.

⭑ a/n: this took me too long wth, almost a month i fear lol. this was written during my demon slayer hyperfixation comeback (it's gone now) so uh. also acheron fic coming soon (i hope soon)! pls like and reblog !!

it wasn't exactly silence after giyuu finished speaking. there were sounds of birds chirping, wind occasionally blowing, resulting in sounds of swaying leaves on the trees being more audible. some even fell because of the invisible force of the air, ending up meeting the gravel ground near the engawa.

having told a good share of his past to you—precisely about sabito and the final selection, which were the main reason he wasn't exactly thrilled about taking part in the hashira training—giyuu decided to stop himself from telling you any more, choosing to leave other topics for later.

but will you still have this 'later' now that he's shared even a small bit of himself?

to you, the silence was awkward. not having the faintest idea of what to say in reply to that wasn't exactly what you would want to experience, yet here you were. it felt useless even trying to think of something, to try and make something up in your mind, even taking a bit more time than you usually do when thinking of a response, bur nothing could've prepared you to thinking of what to reply to this.

it made your stomach churn with how you realisex you couldn't seem to know what to do, what to say, how to comfort him; the closest to you person finally started to open uo, little by little, bit by bit and you instead feel like an immobile log, only being able to sit there and listen, not being able to muster up a word of comfort.

and you know, you know that it's because you've never heard the said words of colsolation in your life; thus, you didn't know how to comfort giyuu.

another gust of wind blew through the air, nearly ruffling your and his hair, and for a moment you think of giyuu with his hair no longer in a low ponytail, but instead it being messy and disarranged and you think of running your fingers through it. you hope you'll have such opportunity, even if only once.

another fallen onto your lap leaf helped you out of your thoughts; it would be even more awkward if you hadn't managed to say something at all, daydreaming and continuing on staying silent. you take the left between your fingers before it manages to fly away and take a look at it; elm.

"i'm... sorry," you finally spoke, voice quiet as to not disturb anything around. you felt so meek just hearing your own voice. "i don't really know what to say. but i'm sorry for what happened with sabito."

you took a pause; you were never one to have a good way with words, and it made everything even worse in this situation.

"just know that... i'm here for you whenever you want to talk to me about anything. i'll listen."

giyuu's head was in the same position as yours—lowered to look down at his lap. he couldn't say the atmosphere was tense, no, not at all. he knew this was a lot to digest in such a small period of time, no matter how long you've been silent, and he could see your hesitation in choosing the right words; you surely didn't voice your inability to properly comfort him, but didn't blame you for your lack in knowledge about it. he could guess why.

"it's alright," he said just as quietly, silently exhaling a small breath. it felt as if it was easier to breathe now that he had shared this bit of his past to you. "it was about time i told you anyways. i'm already glad you listened. don't bother with words."

you still felt that just listening wasn't enough.

"have you eaten yet?" giyuu broke another silence after a few more minutes of listening to the wind's unregulated breathing, wishing to change the topic to not overexert you mentally any further—what he's told you was enough and it wasn't like he wanted you to dwell on that story. he simply wanted you to know.

"forgot to."

giyuu knew quite well as of now that you tended to, much to his dismay, forget to have some of the meals throughout the day, and it didn't make it better when you could even skip lunch because of training or meetings or anything at all. once, he even told you that he was going to forbid you to enter the training grounds unless you've had at least two meals throughout the day. it's safe to say he physically couldn't do so, so for that period of time you and your exercises were safe.

giyuu didn't need to hear more from you. standing up from his sitting position on the engawa, he then offered you a hand to help you up. and with the gesture, you both knew that there was no need for more words.

the silence in the small soba restaurant never bothered you; it's a place where people came to eat, not to talk, after all. you two were the only people inside for now, but the sounds of utensils clanking and the smell of more food being cooked in the kitchen were very much present, and still, besides that, it was silent.

and still, your mind never seemed to get over how giyuu just brushed your inability to utter something reassuring off. maybe he didn't even want and didn't need the comfort you failed to provide; maybe he expected something like that from you, judging from your earlier reaction to his words just as he'd started talking. yes, he must've known you were bad at feelings, especially other people's, but was he used to it? he undeniably looked like he was, and that was just sad.

chopsticks carefully picking up the soba and guiding them into your mouth, noticing giyuu doing the same near you, your mind picked up the thought that, probably, saying something regarding what he told you about would be inappropriate, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to get something out; something that could just show him that you understand him that much, at least.

"sabito would most definitely be out to get you for the mindset you have now."

out of the corner of your eye you notice that giyuu's hand, previously holding his chopsticks with a bit of noodles picked up, stops. it's not at all an abrupt stop, more like when coming to a thought one's mind has been chasing for a while already. you stop, too, having finished chewing.

and when the silence between you two starts feeling a little too long and a little too tense, and you start thinking that you may have said a very wrong and inappropriate thing, giyuu speaks up in a such relaxed and unimpressed manner that you involuntarily start questioning your choice of words. you'd expected him to get mad or upset, but not—

"you for yours, too."

oh.

"...touchè."

well.

the nights are—mostly—always silent.

the nights spent with giyuu are silent in their own, unmistakable way.

you two seem to create another form of serenity together—everything becomes as still as possible, wind appearing barely once for a few moments to ruffle the trees' leaves and then disappear without a trace.

your head is gently laid on giyuu's lap and gaze fixed on the night sky above with the stars filling the inky abyss, each sparkling more than the previous, as if trying to catch your attention, your eyes move from one to another, wanting to get a look at them all, wanting to engrave the look of them in your mind and keep it here; but there was just so much — you aren't sure if there even exists a number as big as the number of stars up there.

("do you think we get a star out there after death?"

"...maybe."

"would you try to look for mine when i die?"

"..."

"...sorry."

"...i would.")

with giyuu still looking somewhere in front of him—you can't quite decipher where, maybe he's just spaced out—your hand somewhere a bit lower your chest and his hand laying loosely over yours, you close your eyes and slowly inhale the night air; it smells of pine and momentarily happiness.

a few moments later giyuu's head tangibly shifts, and, having little self-restraint when it comes to curiosity, you open your eyes again—maybe he'd be looking at something different now?

and as your eyelids open, you find him to be staring at no one other than you.

eyes usually cold as a snowstorm and endless as the abyss above you both have now descended to endearment and devotion as they look into yours. they twitch slightly lower and to the side, watching your lips for a few seconds, before coming back upwards to your eyes.

he's so enchanting—close to being as enchanting as the stars he's now blocking your view of. maybe he even looks like one in your mind, or maybe it's just his endless eyes, the colors of which blend into the matching endless night sky. you notice yourself not minding the blocked view if the one doing it is giyuu.

with the main sight now being his eyes instead of the gleaming celestial bodies—you can't exactly complain—you feel like staring into them an eternity more, and then another and another until you've memorized each and every pattern in them. and you're sure that if eyes could talk, both your and his would scream affection.

"you're blocking the view," you say, having no more stars to see right in front of you, them being replaced with giyuu's face.

"you seem to be enjoying it all the same," giyuu declares, unimpressed, despite his eyes narrowing the slightest bit in amusement. you're pretty sure his mouth's corners nearly curve upwards. you would've loved to witness him smile, especially at the moment.

you hum quietly, eyes wandering over his face—how can one attract so much? and it's not just about his beauty; he's everything you've ever needed and didn't know you ever needed in your life. "i never said i wasn't enjoying it."

giyuu, too, can't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from you—starting from your eyes as well, they descend lower to your lips (he's a very patient man), neck—and he regrets both of you being too shy and humble to try and leave hickeys on each other, he would enjoy that sight very much—then your uniform which just suits you so much, and, in the end, your hand, one of which is held by his—when did he go from it simply lying on top of yours to holding it?—and he involuntarily laces your fingers together slowly, eyes following each and every movement. your hands are almost just as his—arms a bit scarred underneath the clothes, skin on the palms calloused from holding your katanas, along with healed nicks and occasional cuts.

humming as well in acknowledgement of your words, his gaze follows the trail back to your face and settle back on your eyes. he has to remind himself to not look into them too long, fearing he'd get too lost in their infinite beauty.

"we could stay like this forever," giyuu suddenly speaks up, and with the quietness of the words said they don't seem to disturb the silence at all.

"we could."

you get what he's trying to say. there was never enough time for both of you since the moment you've joined the demon slayers, and then the hashiras, signing yourself a death warrant when doing so; it's pointless to deny the truth and the inevitable, and you both long learned to embrace it.

but all the sadness and inevitableness can be forgot at times like these, right? even just foe the night or for a few hours before the two of you go back to your routine duties.

"but what would you do then?" you continue, being tempted into asking the question with the smallest teasing lilt in your voice, as if prompting him to speak about his feelings about you.

feelings are hard, especially for someone like him—especially for someone with the past and job he has—but slowly, bit-by-bit, step-by-step, you try to get him to understand them, even if you're lost in your own and sometimes can't find a way out of your own feelings. you guess it comes with the job.

guyuu stops to think for, maybe, a bit more than a minute or two, and lets the silence embrace both of you again. again, it's never tense with him (you don't really want to remember the time he told you about sabito, though it still lingers in the back of your mind and comes up in the most unpleasant times), as you two gratefully grab onto the every little bit of serenity and peace you have.

while he thinks, your gaze, once again, roams over his face, with the twinkling stars now serving as a simple background for what—who—you're seeing, being a pleasant compliment to the sight in front of you. moonlight obligingly illuminates a great half of his face, letting you see most details on it, and who would you be if you missed on this opportunity?

nearly just as he's about to start talking, his lips opening and, dear gods above, he can sense your eyes shifting to his moving lips. it's always with you that he feels like a teenager—not really lovey-dovey, but it's a fact that he lets himself be more open to feelings with you.

"i would..." giyuu starts, taking a small break before continuing—to gather his thoughts, knowing you're watching him as intently as you can, and it's not in the least bit uncomfortable as it would be if it wasn't you.

"i would look at you," he says. "for the rest of eternity. i wouldn't want to do anything else besides it."

as he finishes speaking, you slowly but surely feel the tips of your ears becoming a shade of red; thankfully, it's not your face. yet.

"is that so?" you manage to whisper out, taking slow and barely audible breaths to try and calm your fast beating heart. he probably can hear it with how your back lays on his lap, but that doesn't really matter. "wouldn't you get bored?"

"never."

you're sure your face gets a small tint of red.

you, involuntarily, hold your breath after his words, eyes widening a tad bit, and it's only a few seconds later that you quietly exhale the air you didn't know you have been holding in.

the words he says are so simple—but he does have a way with them, and that's what makes you love him more and more with each syllable leaving his lips.

there's moonlight illuminating his—and your—face, and you seem to notice it just now. it shines onto a great half of his face, letting you see even more details on his skin, and if it was illegal to stare for so long, you'd be long behind bars, living your worst ever imaginable life without having something as precious and pretty as giyuu to look at.

his eyes shift. you get the hint just as his gaze moves onto your lips—you've been looking at them so attentively, it'd be a shame if you didn't notice that.

having taken a, supposedly, not so fitting of a position to kiss, you have to sit up using your hands and place them on the grass beneath you to hold yourself up, and your face moves just enough for him to understand. you don't make any rash movements; you're careful but your intentions are evident.

giyuu's face shifts closer, too. it moves forward until he feels like both your and his lips are soon to meet together. one look into each other's eyes is all it takes for his appearance to soften and lean towards you.

your lips touch in a kiss and you feel like you could die right now and there because of how soft it feels, coming from him, usually so sharp and harsh; it feels like your lips are melting together but you don't have it in you to mind—it's been far too long since you two have had any time to yourselves and your small affections and you don't know when you'll have another night like this.

his eyes settle closed the same time as yours do, and as much as you like looking at him, it just helps the atmosphere around you even more. giyuu's lips slowly, gently move against yours and you just happen to think of how tender they are, and that warms your chest more than anything.

it's silent and wordless with giyuu, and you just happen to love it.

[sepublic]

I have to wonder about Camila's life and backstory, leading her to the beginning of The Owl House; For example, was she the (grand)daughter of immigrants, or an immigrant herself? For what reasons did she come to the U.S.; Was there a promise of adventure and freedom that didn't entirely pan out? I could see there being additional parallels between Camila and Luz, if they both came to another 'world' and met someone who really made them feel at home, with Camila's person being Manny.

It isn't exactly canon, being revealed in a unreleased episode that no longer fits with established lore, but Homesick (which seems to have been originally written as a Season 1B episode) reveals that Manny was a hospital driver. Now this is also mentioned alongside Camila being a nurse, when we know now that she's a veterinarian.

But the idea could still be repurposed into HC territory; Camila met Manny, as someone who also shared in the same career. Given her compassion towards animals, it seems Camila chose being a vet because she genuinely enjoys and believes in that work, so it makes me think of how Luz wanted to become a witch, and then found belonging in fellow witches like Eda or Amity, who helped to validate that choice for her by participating in it with Luz. Maybe Manny did the same for Camila, as someone who was also compassionate in helping transport people to medical assistance, and I assume ambulance drivers must also be knowledgeable themselves too!

Looking at it from one perspective, you could say Manny was Camila's Eda, as someone more confident who helped encourage Camila into being her fullest self, making her feel at home as a fellow weirdo, etc. And by extension, Luz is her King; Someone younger that she helps guide and look after, a kid with lots of big fantasies they want to play out. And on Manny’s end, he could be Luz, while Camila is his Amity, as someone less confident about embracing herself, only to find that courage upon meeting Manny. He too would share in the immigrant experience of coming to a new world, and maybe he did so with reckless enthusiasm, like his daughter did?

And if Camila's an immigrant, I wonder what sorts of mixed feelings she might have about Gravesfield, and the U.S. as a whole. How does she feel about the Dominican Republic, if she's ever been there? Thinking of those Mother-Daughter parallels, this new home isn't exactly the nicest, and it has many of its downsides; Like the Boiling Isles for Luz, it suffers from the influence of racist Puritan white guys, which exacerbates a hostility to outsiders. But as I've mentioned with Manny, there are still people to find there, and the existence of kids like Masha further cements that because even if viewers can't find a Boiling Isles, they'll rest assured knowing there's still others like them in this world particularly.

Not to mention, Vee! Adopting Vee, who much prefers the human world, could help Camila appreciate her own home by looking at it from that angle, and relate to her new daughter as a fellow immigrant to Gravesfield. Camila still seems somewhat beholden to the human world, since she and Luz still live there; A part of this could probably be attributed to Vee, but I wonder if there are other ties as well, such as Luz and Camila's Dominican heritage?

Do they have other relatives that they're still in contact with, and how do they feel about them? I don't think they're necessarily on bad terms, seeing as how Luz herself struggled with being a loner while still having loving and supportive parents, and her feeling complete with her found family doesn't negate those pre-existing relationships at all; People simply need as many friends as they can get.

Plus, Camila might still enjoy other aspects of the human world nevertheless, such as her Cosmic Frontier novels, or even something as simple as her latin music. Maybe she isn't entirely comfortable with the isles either, given how four years later she's still a bit grossed out by certain aspects of Luz's new Quincenera, but Camila's still open-minded enough to be accommodating and respectful.

And again, that makes me think about how the Boiling Isles has its ups and downs, as well as locals who are cruel without needing the influence of outsiders. This is part of Luz's arc in Witches before Wizards, acknowledging that, while still being able to love it, warts and all. And I wonder if Camila feels similarly about the world she moved to (while also sharing an unambiguous distaste for the government), if there's a lot to Gravesfield and the U.S. as a whole that she doesn't like.

But there are still good parts and good people, hence Vee's friends, her own relatives, and of course Manny. Vee herself likes it, fellow migrants have a lot in common! So there’s an almost begrudging love, like Eda and King talking about their home at the end of WBW. Maybe like Luz, Camila realized the (American) dream she wanted when she came to this new place wasn't going to play out exactly as she expected... But in many ways, it still did, especially because of people who made it feel complete.

So Camila really is like her daughter; A weirdo who felt the need to suppress herself, only to find people who gave her the encouragement she needed. Someone who moved to another place that wasn't exactly perfect, but there was so much to still appreciate, and it's how she met someone who also moved and loved it there, like the Collector for Luz, or Vee for Camila. Two outsiders wandering and looking for a home, and when Luz found hers, she really cemented Camila rediscovering that belonging when she felt emboldened enough to continue where Manny left off, without him.

It'd have been so easy to just have Luz and Camila both renounce the human world, but that would be cultural whitewashing, and keep in mind the antagonist of the series is colonialism. There’s a lot more nuance in them having connections in both worlds that they want to maintain. And I think Vee helps to cement this for Luz and Camila; The latter would otherwise sacrifice staying in her human home for Luz if she had to, but Vee can function as family in the human world to stay in touch with AND a parallel for Luz to reflect on her choices, etc. Mother and daughter navigating two different worlds that they feel beholden to is the immigrant experience; They're still allowed to hold onto their heritage that way, just as in real life they would be considered both Dominican AND American. That's part of the larger theme of not having to choose nor settle for strict binaries, while maintaining your own identity as you explore entering another community.

[shadowdarlings]

Rain & Redemption II

Tamlin x Reader

Synopsis : The Lord of Spring has returned, with his nightingale in tow. While readapting to civilized life you and Tamlin face reality together.

part one

Pairings : TamlinxReader

a/n : so i am really digging the first part of this story and decided that i want to continue writing at 12:07am so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did <3

Warnings : slight angst (with comfort), mentions of trauma, suggestiveness, as always possessive tamlin (in a good way)

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Dinner with Tamlin was a drawn out affair. The deer he hunted down, no doubt in his beast form, had to be prepped and cooked. While he began dressing the fallen creature you took it upon yourself to begin sifting through the discarded and destroyed artifacts that littered the dining area. Although the manor had been shredded and abandoned, you couldn’t help but marvel at its refreshing beauty. Here there was light. Massive glass windows looked out to a rose garden that was surely once well manicured. The sun had already started its descent past the horizon but light still streamed in from every corner. The manor was everything that your home under that gods forsaken mountain wasn’t. The Hewn City was all darkness and stale air. You began sorting things into two piles. Items that were fairly unharmed were deemed “to keep”, others that had been completely torn apart were tossed into a discard pile. The two of you worked diligently in silence until he looked up from the deer and said, “You never told me your name.” You tore your gaze from the chipped vase in your hands and met his stare. “You never asked,” you began with a playful smugness, “but it’s Y/N.” Something unreadable flickered in his green eyes before a slight smirk cracked on his face. “Well, Y/N,” he said with a dramatic pause, “our dinner is ready to be cooked. How do you like your venison?”

You both agreed that without a working kitchen that a fire would be the best way to roast the deer. While he built a fire you toyed with an idea. “What if we preserved some of this beautiful bounty into something that will last beyond a night?” you asked him. Tamlin threw another piece of wood onto the makeshift fire and answered your question with his own. “As in a jerky? How do you mean?” That was exactly what you had meant. The future of your time in this manor and when you would next have a full meal was entirely uncertain. The topic had hardly been broached. “Unless you intend to spend the rest of your days hunting and building fires, it might be a prudent idea.” He looked you over before replying, “Smart, little bird. We’ll make two steaks for tonight and dry out the rest. It should preserve overnight and we can feast on jerky for weeks.” Satisfied with your quick thinking you helped him prepare the meat for roasting.

“What did you mean when you said you are not fit to be a ruler?” you asked after another bout of silence. Tamlin stilled his spinning of your dinner over the fire and his gaze shot to the flames between you. “I’m sorry,” you quickly said, “If I’m prying too much.” He did not look up from the inferno but said quietly, “I have abandoned my people and my post. Those who reside in the Spring Court put their faith in me. I have failed them again and again, in so many ways.” You blinked once at his brutal honesty before prodding further. “Will they not look to you once more? Surely there is a way to regain their trust.” His eyes moved from the fire to your own. They were filled with such sadness, such regret. “I would not know where to start, little nightingale.” You scoffed lightly as his response. “Well,” you began, “I think leaving those woods and coming home is already a start, wouldn’t you say? If you’re willing to return just to ensure the safety of a lone Night Court citizen, I can’t imagine what you might be willing to do for your people.” The sadness in his eyes faded ever so slightly as he said, “Since you’re so full of wisdom tonight, pray tell how might I continue this path of redemption?” You smiled at that.

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Tamlin was restless. Every time he started to fade away, sleep evaded him and he was jolted awake by poisoned memories. He had declared that he wanted to sleep outside the manor to stay alert for any looters or more dangerous creatures. He’d shifted into his beast form and taken post directly in front of the entrance just as night had overtaken the Spring Court. Truly, he was not sure if he was ready to sleep under this roof again. The two of you had talked for hours, discussing your histories and what the future of the Spring Court might look like. He’d escorted you to your room and bid you a gentlemanly goodnight, but your conversation replayed in his mind endlessly. A loose plan had been set in place to begin repairing his relations with those that depended on him. You had been so eager and determined while you both brainstormed ideas for making amends. He admired your tenacity yet was not fully convinced that this plan would work effectively. The thought made him queasy. His heart began a pace that tightened his chest and he was sure that if he’d been in his fae form that his palms would be sweaty. Tamlin shoved his anxieties down and recalled what you had told him about Rhysand, about how he’d condemned the entire Hewn City to a life of cruelty and rot. Although the idea of tomorrow sent him into an unending panic, he did not wish for you or any of his people to endure the same neglect for another moment.

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The morning light creeped in through the open window in your bedroom. It took a moment to recall everything that had happened, where you now were. The bedding had been dusty but a few shakes had it cleaner than before. You didn’t mind dirt, you’d spent a year lying on the forest floor. Waking up in a soft bed had become unfamiliar, but you relished the softness of the pillows and blankets before sitting to stretch your limbs. Moving to the armoire, you sifted through the clothing to find a pale green dress and a set of cream slippers. The outfit was plain but you didn’t particularly mind. Your mission for today did not require glittering attire. You fixed your hair into a loose braid and pulled two strands from the front to frame your face. After giving yourself a once over in the looking glass you deemed your appearance fit for the task at hand.

Tamlin was already dressed in a tunic and pants that were similar in style to the night before. You only gave yourself a moment to admire his wide shoulders before clearing your throat. He turned from his work on the piles you had created the night before and said “Good morning,” before he faltered. His eyes widened slightly and dragged up and down your figure. Meeting your gaze once more he choked out, “Well don’t we look the picture of Spring today?” You rolled your eyes at him and moved to take the picture frame from his hands. “We have a job to do, remember?” Tamlin huffed out a weak laugh before replying, “How could I ever forget?” He looked tired. You wondered if he slept as marvelously as you did. Considering that he spent the night on a set of marble stones you didn’t know how he possibly could.

The two of you moved outside to where the deer had been smoking overnight. Indeed it had preserved itself into a jerky that would remain edible for weeks. He started packing the strips into the wooden bin you had found in the kitchens when you said, “I have another idea.” He did not pause his movement or even look at you as he said, “Of course you do.” You pulled a basket from behind your back and waved it in front of his face to draw his attention. “I was thinking,” you began, “we should gather some flowers to take as well. These gardens are completely overrun. There are flowers and berries that need culling anyhow.” He straightened and assessed the gardens before the manor. “As you wish,” was all he said. Tamlin had been quieter than he was last night. You thought it best not to pry further and with his permission granted made your way into the thick of the garden and began collecting the fruits of spring.

When your basket was full and Tamlin had stored all of the dried meat you both began your trek to the nearest village. On horseback, he had told you, it would only take a half hour to reach your destination. After the fall of Spring his array of horses had all been stolen or set free by anonymous citizens. After two hours of walking the two of you were tired and parched. A nearby stream trickled with fresh water and you both drank deeply from its supply. “It’s just over that hill,” he said. The hike had been mostly silent. You were learning to enjoy quiet moments with the High Lord. It was almost as if you had a mutual understanding that the silence was not rude, but instead a peaceful reprieve. “No turning back now,” you said, standing from the stream and straightening your lightweight gown. He grunted in acknowledgment as you both continued your parade to the village.

The sight of the meager town was heartbreaking. Several houses and shops had fallen into rubble and the village center had looked as equally abandoned as the manor. Tamlin halted immediately, his breath quickening. Sensing his discomfort you moved to lace your fingers between his, squeezing tightly. The High Lord did not balk from your touch but instead gave a light squeeze back and continued his approach. The two of you reached a small home that had a plume of smoke rising from a stone chimney. A sign of life. Unlocking your hands you raised a fist and gave two sharp knocks to the wooden door. A few moments of shuffling and then the door swung open to reveal a gruff looking fae male. His eyes first landed on you, then travelled upwards to the towering Lord behind you. The male’s eyes widened with shock and reproach. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” he spat at you both. You calmed the annoyance that flowed through you and made your voice gentle as you said, “I- We come to offer a favor to you and your home.” The male looked down at your basket and the dried jerky Tamlin held in his hand. “We don’t need your charity,” the male responded, “we’ve been fairing well enough on our own, girl.” A sweet voice sounded from further into the house, “Mikah? Who is it?” A pretty looking female stepped into the light of the entrance and put her hand on Mikah’s arm. When she turned her gaze to the two of you her expression almost mirrored the males’. “Our High Lord and his… this girl have brought favors.” She looked down to the goods you had presented and back to Mikah. “I told them we were just fine,” he said with a hint of finality in his tone. The female scoffed at him and observed the two of you once more. “We are most certainly not,” she started. “Invite him and the girl inside.” With that she turned and strode back into the house. Mikah gave Tamlin an incredulous look but opened the door further for you to enter.

The female’s name was Cera, you had learned. She fussed over dishes and refreshments as she lamented about their struggles. The village had been ripe for naga attacks and most residents had decided to evacuate the area for fear of their families. “Mikah did not want to leave, of course. He spends most of his days hunting, although they are not always fruitful.” You and Tamlin listened carefully to her story. There were only a few families that had stayed after his disappearance. They all struggled. You glanced over at Tamlin and were met with a stern face. His jaw was set and his eyes were dark with despair. Underneath the modest wooden table you grasped his hand once more, turning your attention back to Cera. The four of you spoke for several hours. You and Tamlin expressed your willingness to help in any way you could with the naga and the rebuilding of the village. After exchanging the dried meats and gifts from your basket, the two of you made your way back to the front of their house. “Thank you for having us,” you said “It’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance.” Cera reached out to pick up your hands. She looked at you then at Tamlin, her eyes pricked with tears. “Thank you for coming back. We need you,” she said. He nodded his head towards her and straightened as he said, “I could not have done it alone. It will take all of us to rebuild. I am thankful for your time.”

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Tamlin let out a heavy sigh when the two of you began your walk back to the manor. The day had been filled with conversations like the first he’d had with Mikah and Cera. The two of you had made your way to most of the families remaining in the village and presented your gifts as well as your pledges to restore their homes and lives. He was exhausted. Once the two of you had crested the hill overlooking the town he paused. You looked at him in curiosity. He was overwhelmed with emotions… gratitude, despair, grief, hopefulness, apprehension. Without thinking he grabbed your waist and pulled you close against his chest. He could hear your smooth, calming heartbeat. He breathed in your scent and closed his eyes. Only two days ago he had been more beast than man. Now he was walking on two legs and meeting with the people who had once trusted him. He felt your hands wrap around his middle as you nuzzled into him further. He could have stayed like this forever, but you pulled back looking up at him with those bright gorgeous eyes. “You did well today,” you said to him still in his grasp, “I’m proud of you.” Tamlin hadn’t heard such perfect words in a very long time.

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Taglist : @lilah-asteria @booksnwriting @stained-glass-eyes0708 @anxious-cactus @thrumbolt @jesskidding3 @acotarxreader @nocasdatsgay @scorpioriesling

[bl00dlight]

Question for the Culture...

Some thoughts on s2, Aemond needing mothers milk, alicole pussy rubbing, the Greens writing & characterisation.

After some consideration, I think the reason way the brothel scene is so jarring is because we've spent so little time with Aemond as a character, and S1 purposefully set up this very real mystique around him - espeically regarding duty, having disdain for Aegon's depravity (and literally being above it himself?) Etc, that we didn't get to see the process of what actually led Aemond there as a character. I actually do think it's because we are getting so few episodes that they are bypassing the very needed character progression that Aemond 10000% needs. It feels out of character because the show has set up a character which was exceedingly adverse to that behaviour. And you can feel the shift in his character, this season. To me he feels completely different, which shouldn't be the case just yet since like... Luke supposedly died only two weeks prior to the start of the season. We didn't get to see his progression into going from Alicent's #1 ride or die, to being her biggest hater? Nor did we see his progression into why he was even at the brothel? The leaks spoke about Aegon taking him to Cock Inn during B&C and well, we know that was the case because the Madam mentioned that. But? Why would they not show us that? Why would they not show us Aemond's progression into making that decision in the first place and the after effects leading him to returning back there? I think the scene was within his characterisation but like... not out of the blue. It felt like something we needed to see unfold. Because also, now all of his mystique is shattered. Like those are such STRONG choices to make him a milk drinking, fetal position, mummy's milkers ass bitch straight off the bat. Like??? Considering that two weeks ago he was like "Bro I am so much better than Aegon. I don't do that depravity shit. I'm dutiful, I should be King cause my brother is fucken gross and weak." Well? Okay... now Aemond is objectively grosser and weaker. Which was likely always the case, but it's something that should have been developed and revealed with time? They inadvertently destroyed the idea of his "mask" and his character being a massive antagonistic force that parallels Daemon. Because we've spent 10x more screen time with Daemon and we know underneath he is also fragile and vulnerable. We know that his dependence on Rhaneyra is significantly more complicated than it being about ambition. But it's not shown yet, he still actively is maintaining this incredibly antagonistic mask that makes him more elusive to the audience. We don't truly know his true intentions, his true vulnerabilities yet. So his actions come across as significantly more threatening, for all we know he could truly just be that malevolent while at the same time - we have seen glimpses which prove otherwise, that he is vulnerable and does desire love, comfort etc. But we don't quite know what that vulnerability truly is yet.

But with Aemond it's fucking beyond on the nose having him laying in an older woman's lap, drinking MILK and having his head patted while being cooed upon. Like okay so now we know exactly what the fuck is wrong with him. And he loses all complexity (currently) because we've not been shown the progression of this drastically opposing character choice. We've gone from a dude who was licking his lips at the sight of Daemon slicing and dicing Vaemond, who was posting up to his kid nephews and literally denouncing Aegon for his sexual depravity - to homeboy needing mummy's milk straight off the back, no inner conflict shown. It would've been nice to SEE him actually struggle with this level of vulnerability. It would've been nice to see his character unravel to the point where that scene didn't feel like I've just skipped several episodes of characterisation. And yall can say what you want, but I am right on this. It would've been far more compelling for them to keep his mystique for longer, to keep that vulnerability of his hidden and watch him struggle with it. Because now I know exactly what the fuck he is thinking, exactly what is wrong with him. There is no ambiguity left in his motivations nor whether or not his whole black leather edgy boy thing is a mask. Because now we know it's a mask, so all of his choices don't feel as.... threatening? They feel more like an angry teenage boy who needs a hug. Which is totally fine, but it's more intriguing if it weren't so explicitly shown to us that's what he is. I'd rather that be woven into his character and his of mask edgelord666 not be so suddenly stripped from him? Because now I know he isn't a raging psychopath, now I he isn't driven by his chaos. With Daemon, he still gives the impression he genuinely might be unredeemable. And that should be the case with Aemond.

And while we are here, I fucken hated the line of the brothel Madame reminding him of the smallfolk.

1) What authority does she hold over him to essential give him council or reprimand him on his behaviour. Why does she have the confidence to council him in the first place given she is in a position of vulnerability. That's the paradox, he could absolutely have her killed or hurt her and face zero consequences. So what gives her the security in knowing he wouldn't respond negatively to being counciled on the political repercussions of his behaviour? Why have they not SHOWED US their dynamic? Because I'm going into this knowing Aemond is about to commit mass genocide against the smallfolk? So unless that comment was just a throwaway liner to set that up, why would she feel compelled to be direct in that way? Why would Aemond a man who actively does not give a SHITTTTT about the lives of those below him, let a brothel Madame get away with saying that? And since he did let it slide, WHY???? Show us WHYYYY he would accept that advice?

2) If that line was used as a recalling to Aemond potentially feeling regret for the choices he is about to make, then just cut the cameras. Cause I think that would be an absolute waste of his characterisation. Everyone already feels bad about the smallfolk. They are really hammering it home. Even Otto gives a shit about them. The last person I want to see care is Aemond. Because it just doesn't make sense, why the fuck would he care? He has no reason to care given the role he plays in the war.

I want to use Cersei Lannister as a point that you don't need to implement a sense of societal empathy for your antagonist to have softness within them. Cersei is like number 1 bad bitch, doesn't give a fuck, is a number 1 hater and will straight up blow a bitch UP. But we see glimmers of softness with her children, with Jamie and even Margaery. And I think that just makes her so much more intriguing because we know something else resides within her other than malevolence but we the audience have to watch her go through the motions of it.

So far I've seen Aemond go through ZERO motions and I've seen the writers play their cards already. I hope I'm wrong. But we have 6 episodes left of s2. And so far, I've learnt so little about him as a character, while also knowing exactly what his core wound is.

I'm a tad worried for s2, and I'm a tad worried that the short season lengths are forcing the writers to speed up the way they allowed these characters to develop. There have been some incredibly strong ass moments, like Otto being THAT bitch and telling Aegon what's good. That was unbelievably incredible. Literally the entire scene between Daemon and Rhaneyra. IMPECCABLE character work, IMPECCABLE acting 10/10. Oh and everything Helaena at the moment is also beyond perfect. That funeral scene was harrowing.

But the downsides have been huge. To me, Aemond is drifting into a territory which is making me kinda not enjoy his character so much. Cause now I know what's good, he doesn't compell me right now. Knowing what lies beneath the surface isn't always a good thing, espeically given he has had like maybe 40 minutes of screen time overall in the series. And Alicole suffers the same fate. It was implied in season 1, 100000%, but uhhhhh its jarring because we never got to see HOW it unfolded. The process that lead alicent and criston into this very complex reltionship. It feels like they've been fucking for years, yet it's been like two weeks on canonically? Oh and having the green siblings not interact after B&C is diabolical. That is fucking lazy writing. Sorry. Because they haven't mentioned the fact Helaena has had neither Aegon nor Aemond acknowledge her. Which again, feels so fucking out of blue? It doesn't even have to be a whole process, it could've been one scene where one of them attempt to comfort her and fail because they fundamentally don't know how to display that level of kindness towards one another. It's that easy. Oh and Daeron? Fuck off. That was an ABYSMAL way to introduce him. Why does Otto need to remind Alicent that she has another son? What grandfather says "remember that third son you've always had and have forgotten about for the past 6 years? *wink, wink*" Like fuck off.

I think they are suffering from too many ideas all at one. And trying to rush major character arcs in order to get to the dance. But what makes GRRM writing and works so interesting and what made GOT (early seasons) so good was the fact they took time to develop the characters and show those lengthy discussions/character interactions. It's ABSOLUTELY insane we haven't seen the green siblings interact properly and may not at all. There is no reason for that, you can't put it down to "dysfunctional family dynamics" if you don't SHOW us the dysfunctional family dynamic and the siblings failing at communicating. B&C would've been the perfect time to show the audience WHY they can't comfort each other and HOW their family system has failed them. It's so deeply unbelievable to me and getting the actors justify it as it being a poor family dynamic is LAZY. Show the audience. Don't have your actors tell us.

[detentiontrack]

HEY. TELL ME ABOUT YOUR AMPHIBIA BAND AU!!!!!!!!!!!!

OKAY!!!!!!!!

(TW for VERY brief mentions of suicidal ideation, trauma, and eating disorders) (nothing graphic or triggering. Just mentions of those)

So it takes place when the trio is around 21. I aged them down slightly because I want this to take place when they’re still in college, not when they have careers in their field. (This takes place a few weeks before summer so they’re still in school, but it’s ending soon) (I KNOW WE DONT KNOW WHEN EXACTLY ANNE’S BIRTHDAYS IS BUT I’M THE WRITER AND I SAY ITS SOMETIME IN MAY)

(Also because Marcy’s 21st birthday is a huge plot point. There miiiiight be a drunken love confession scene)

Anne is still studying to be a herpetologist, Sasha is still a psychology major, and Marcy is in college because her parents pressured her to go to college, but she HATES it and is actively burning out.

The trio gets together (Marcy flies in from across the country) for Anne’s birthday, just like in the finale, but this time Marcy is staying with her grandma for a few weeks so they have an opportunity to hang out more

They quickly realize that since it’s been 8 years since amphibia and they’ve all been doing their own thing, they don’t have a lot in common with each other anymore, other than this huge trauma that they experienced together.

(Marcy and Sasha have processed it more but still struggle, but Anne is COMPLETELY repressing her feelings and her grief and is headed towards a mental breakdown)

Until one day, they’re sitting in silence in Anne’s room awkwardly because they ran out of things to talk about, when Anne pulls out her guitar and starts to play a tune

They end up singing “no big deal” just for old times sake, and they’re surprised to find out they’re still really good together

The next few days, they start writing more songs as a silly pastime, and then Sasha posts one of their original songs on YouTube & TikTok

The video EXPLODES. They get thousands of likes and comments. At this point they’re still just having fun and don’t take it super seriously.

Their video continued to blow up and 3 days before Marcy has to get back on a plane and go home, they get a message from someone holding a huge event. He says that the event’s band dropped out at the last minute, and was wondering if they could perform a few songs at the event tomorrow night.

They’re SUPER hesitant because they don’t think they’re ready, but they agree that it’s one of Marcy’s last days in LA, so they may as well have fun with it. They agree.

They do the event, perform a few covers and a couple original songs, and the audience LOVES it.

After the show, a man comes up to them. He is an important person in a record label company (I forgor the official title so bear with me. I’ll do more research before writing. This is all a rough idea) and says that he loves them and wants them to audition for a spot in their company the next day. They initially decline because they’re all in school and Marcy doesn’t even live there anymore, but he gives them his business card.

Marcy leaves the next morning, so they decide to have a sleepover one last time for old times sake (they’re very nostalgic) (they’re all secretly in love with each other). They have a deep conversation, and Marcy eventually BREAKS DOWN and sobs that she is so tired and burnt out from college, and she feels directionless and aimless in life. She confesses that sometimes she doesn’t even want to be alive. She just wants a purpose.

Anne and Sasha comfort her. Sasha (using her psychology knowledge) suggests that maybe she extends her trip to LA and they go to the record company the next day just to see what will happen. She says maybe it’ll give her some purpose. (At this point they know their chances of making it are super slim, so they’re expecting to audition and then be told they weren’t selected)

They go to the audition, absolutely rock it, and get a spot in the record company and sign a contract

Marcy moves in with Anne and her parents (but it’s just temporary, right?) & finishes the rest of her semester online

They start planning an album and having a lot of fun, just like when they were kids, but this time there’s no toxicity or control issues (just a LOT of tension) (and when I say tension I don’t mean sexually. This will be a SFW fic because I believe writing smut of them, even if you age them up, is gross and creepy. The most it’ll get is maybe a drunken make out scene, but that won’t be explicit)

They release a single that is a HIT and they start doing small shows

They release an album and again, it’s a smash hit. They’re nominated for a lot of awards, and they start doing a music tour.

They’re together 24/7 on the tour. They become kind of actually famous, there’s fan accounts on twitter, they’re doing interviews, everyone loves them. But since they’re getting so close, their romantic feelings for each other start getting stronger and harder to ignore. There’s constant tension (in one scene, Sasha does everyone’s make up for a concert, and there’s SO MUCH yearning and gay panic)

At this point, any of the love songs they sing either don’t use gendered pronouns, or have he/him pronouns.

BUT THEN. Rumors start breaking out that they’re dating. It starts with people thinking Sasha and Anne are dating (which breaks Marcy’s heart) but then the fandom starts getting into classic ship wars over who’s dating who.

Sasha is out as bi to her friends, but not to the public. Anne is a lesbian but is repressing that information because of internalized homophobia. Marcy is also a lesbian, but has never dated anyone ever (she says it’s because she’s really focused on her studies, but it’s really because she can’t find anyone to replicate the feelings she felt when she was best friends with Anne and Sasha.)

These rumors make them all really on edge for different reasons, and it almost completely tears apart their band and their friendship.

I can’t say much more without giving the ENTIRE thing away (I probably already said too much but I’m really excited) but sashannarcy end game (after a LOT of angst, fighting, trauma processing, self discovery, long conversations about the past, and all of them facing their individual demons)

MISC. HEADCANONS

Marcy is disabled, has chronic pain and mobility issues, and uses a cane. She is also autistic and has ADHD and depression and an anxiety disorder. (and PTSD)

(They all have PTSD but it presents in different ways)

Sasha has BPD

Anne has ADHD and generalized anxiety disorder

Sasha also has chronic pain and weakness due to her injuries in amphibia

Sasha is also in recovery from an eating disorder (she’s doing fine in the beginning, but fame and all the public attention causes her to have issues with it again)

Their band plays mostly pop music with occasional slow love ballads (which are obviously about each other but they say it’s about other people)

Marcy has occasional stage fright, gets overstimulated at events, and nervous in interviews. So Sasha and Anne do most of the talking in interviews

When they tour, they all sleep in the same hotel room (they say it’s to save money but they’re not even the ones paying for it) (they all still have nightmares from amphibia and comfort each other) (there miiiiiight be an “oh no! There’s only ONE bed” scenario because I love fanfic tropes)

Marcy and Sasha are medicated for mental health reasons.

Anne is not

Marcy and Sasha have been to therapy

Anne has not

(You know where this is going. I’m giving Anne the mental breakdown she should have had in the show)

Frogvasion HAS happened in this AU, however I’m running with the implications in the Marcy journal and saying that most people think it was just a hoax/movie stunt gone wrong (this actually comes back later. There’s all kinds of crazy conspiracy theories about them online after they rise to fame)

[koolades-world]

Hi hi! Just wanted to start off by saying I love your work ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Anyways I was wondering if you could do some comfort hcs for an mc that has IBD? You’re fine if you don’t want to write for this since it’s pretty uncommon from my understanding.

Note: I felt it important to say since there’s lots of misconceptions floating around (cough cough TikTok-)that IBD has lots to do with diet. Either it playing a role in the cause or for treating it. Which all the specialists I’ve seen have said diet is neither the leading cause nor is it the solution. All it is that some foods irritate for no particular reason and should generally be avoided.

Sorry if I overshared lol I’ve just had people tell on multiple occasions that it’s a diet thing when it’s not- it’s an autoimmune disease.

Thanks so much for reading my little impromptu rant. Again you don’t have to write for it if don’t wish to due to it being a very niche topic. Anyways hope you’re well stay safe.

-🪴🧺

hi!!! of course I can! no worries about oversharing or anything, i actually didn't know that was a misconception and help me out :)

i'm almost certain i have ibs (long story short i couldn't get diagnosed but it runs a very clear path in my family and all of my symptoms match up exactly the same it's like it was copy and pasted) and of course so i could properly write this i did a little research, and based on what you said and what i read, it sounds like people are getting the two mixed up which is something that could be fixed by a simple google search :( i'm so sorry you have to deal with people like that

i hope i did you justice and this could be a little respite in your day. enjoy <3

Mc with IBD

Lucifer

he tries his best to make your days better in little ways!

gift baskets will randomly appear in your room filled with things you'd only mentioned in passing that you wanted or needed to him

if you're feeling up for it, he'll take you out for a meal at least once a week to make you feel special. it might not be fancy every time, but you can still feel the love

if you're not though, no worries! he'll do something equally as nice at home for you with food he made himself

Mammon

if you need surgery, he's becoming your personal nurse while you heal!

every moment he can be, he's by your side

lots of cute little forehead kisses and magically producing your favorite candies from behind his back for you

you won't even have to lift a finger to change what you're watching on tv, let mammon take care of it <3

Levi

he's the king of staying in, so if you don't feel like going out, his room is always open to you!

you don't even need a password to get in, because it's you

if you're ever feeling down or unwell because of your ibd, he always lets you have full control over what you do

if you play a game like minecraft together, he'll always have surprises ready for you so next time you play, you'll find it <3

Satan

he's curious about your medication and does extensive research into it

he always makes sure any painkillers or other meds you might take won't interfere with your ibd meds!

he will recommend the over the counter painkillers if you want them that have the least amount of bad side effects, such as tylenol because he hates to see you in pain

he's got lots of connections and will use them in any way possible if it could possible help you

Asmo

he's the best at making sure you take good care of yourself!

if you're bad about taking your meds, he'll get you a cute little pill divider

will also get a matching equally cute water bottle that you can use to help take the pills

he ensure everything can be done while being fashionable, because he finds that it makes things more bearable for him, so why not his favorite person too?

Beel

he knows quite a lot about supplements and vitamins, so if you take them, he's asking you questions about them because he just wants to get to know you better

he is always there for you if you need someone to talk to, or just want to rant/vent

provides the best comfort and warm hugs :)

Belphie

like his twin, he also gives great hugs

he's your number one fan of course! he's always with you even if you're not in your bed

it may take all of his energy, but if you want to go out, he's going with you no matter what

he'll even share his signature cow pillow with you 🥺

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✰ sinking lily pads

— synopsis. he thrived in the sorcerer world, she was forced into it. how could two people that strayed so differently from each other become so close?

— pairing. gojo x oc!fem!reader (main), toji fushiguro x oc!fem!reader

— word count. 3.6k

— contents. heavy child abuse, torture, neglect, abandonment, angsty asf, injuries, blood/gore, depressing thoughts, suicidal ideation, dissociation, ptsd, mentions of death, jjk violence/fighting

— notes. sorry for the late updates, life's been busy but here ya go <3 enjoy!

series masterlist | previous chapter

✰ chapter five. this is who you’ve become, a monster

The odd thing about slowly spiraling into the realization that you're losing your soul— is the pure reminder that you still have one.

It was unsettling. Confusing. Completely frustrating to even accept that such thing would occur.

Hadn't I gone through enough? Moon wondered.

She had suffered through enough for someone's lifetime— why was it that life kept throwing obstacles her way. Testing time and time again if she was worthy of living in this world.

She knew she'd only grow worse as the days passed on, and that should've been a thought that terrified her— but somewhere within her, she felt she deserved the pain.

"I can't help but wonder it is you're thinking about Miss Dair. Nerves?" Geto had asked from her right.

She sent him a weak smile, one that seemed believable enough.

"Not exactly. I've just been thinking about the future, where I'll be in a couple years. Months. Days." She listed off, staying true to her word and trying to be more honest with her friends.

Odd, it still felt weird to call them friends. Of course that's exactly what they were to her— but she still had an instinct to push them away. Keeping them strictly classmates.

"I can see why that would keep you so distracted. It's kinda scary to think about, hm?" Geto admitted to his own fears and anxieties.

"Not me. I know exactly where I'll be and who I'll be in the future." Gojo stated confidently.

You rolled your eyes, while Geto almost did the same, instead asking him.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?"

Gojo lowered his glasses to the edge of his nose, meeting eyes with both Moon and Geto.

"I'll be with you guys, of course. Oh— and obviously I'll still be the strongest."

Geto and Moon looked at each other, soft smiles showing for a moment before the two broke into little giggles.

The trio walked in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, until Gojo suddenly shoved some bills in her hand.

Moon looked at him in question.

“I just remembered there’s a sweet treat shop around here, was wondering if you could go get me something?”

Moon couldn’t help the smile on her lips. Leave it to Gojo to have the biggest sweet tooth of anyone ever.

She also just couldn’t say no.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“Hmm… surprise me.”

Moon nodded, breaking off from the two and making her way towards the sweet shop— one she knew of already. Besides, her and Gojo had been to this sweet shop many times— years ago.

Moon picked out a few things, making sure to use up all the money he’d given her. Being sure to fill up the bag with lots of sweets— given that this mission might be a longer one than usual.

She thanked the employee, making her way outside. Before she could start heading back towards her friends, she bumped into someone’s shoulder— causing her to drop the bag of sweets— luckily nothing spilling.

She was apologizing before thinking.

“My apologies, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She didn’t even look up to the person, bending down to grab the bag. That was, until the person had grabbed the bag for her. She wasn’t at all interested in this person, that was until she saw the strong, veiny hand grab the tan colored bag.

It hadn’t clicked as weird that the person still didn’t say anything, instead standing upright— waiting for her to as well.

Moon straightened back up, her eyes finally meeting with the stranger. With a gasp, she realized that this wasn’t a stranger at all— in fact, it was a little more haunting than that.

“T-toji?”

Toji stood tall, physique blanketed in a black sweater, a smirk on his lips as he gazed down at her.

“Long time no see darling.”

Moon shuttered, as she hadn’t heard his voice in so long. Although as years had passed since the last time she saw him— his voice was so much deeper and rougher. His hair was longer, still looking as unkept as it had been. She wondered for a moment if this even was him— but the scar on the corner of his mouth was all the proof she needed.

“You… you aren’t real…” She whispered to herself, thinking this was just a hallucination.

Toji was dead. That’s what the Zenin’s told you. He was dead. He had to be dead.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m very much real.”

Moon had to control the familiar burn starting within her nose, the threat of tears from his words.

‘Sorry to disappoint you’ He had said.

Moon wanted to scream at him that it was quite the opposite. To think she ever wanted Toji dead, the mere possibility making her sick to her stomach. When the Zenin’s had informed her of Toji’s death, she was devastated. Crippled from the information. He was the one thing that was keeping her together while she was stuck there. He couldn’t possibly think that she thought any other way.

Although standing in front of him now, where had he gone? Did he escape? How was he hidden from her all those last years, where she suffered with the Zenin’s alone?

“I don’t understand…”

“No, you wouldn’t really. It’s a long story I suppose, but I don’t really care to tell you about it.” He was cold.

Moon wasn’t shy of this kind of behavior from him, but he was colder than he’d ever presented himself as.

“Besides, I’m here on business sweets. I don’t have time for a reunion.” He muttered, “You’re looking good though, see you have been doing well. Living that sorcerer life, huh?”

His words seemed kind, but it was everything but that. They were back handed, clearly noting how the years hadn’t been kind to her.

Moon didn’t know what to say. She was closer to crying than she’d been in a long time. She felt her mask slipping through her fingers.

Toji tilted his head in amusement at her stunned expression.

“You this surprised to see me?”

She kept staring at him like she was looking at a ghost, unable to accept he was really standing here.

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered finally.

Toji just stared at her, eyes narrowing in on her face— almost studying every one of her micro expressions.

“You thought wrong.”

Her hand twitched at her side, desperate to touch him— feel that he was really there. But he seemed so, different, so much more harsh than she remembered. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her touch.

She swallowed, choosing the change the subject— even though she wanted to sit down and talk with him, going over every moment they missed since they last saw each other.

“You said you were here for business… what do you mean by that?”

He tilted his head, an amused expression on his face.

“Curious, aren’t we?” He commented, “I don’t think that’s important for you to know.”

It was her turn to squint her eyes, studying him now. He was being so vague and mysterious— why?

“I need to get going now.” He announced, handing her the bag of sweets.

She took it hesitantly, her eyes glued on his smug look. He just looked like he knew something she didn’t.

She didn’t know why she was all of a sudden getting a horrible out in her stomach from his presence— especially after he used to be such a light in her life. Years ago that was, but still.

She nodded in thanks before turning quickly to head back to her friends, not even giving him a goodbye. She was quickly halted in her escape, Toji’s hand grabbing onto her arm harshly.

“Hey,” She glanced back at him, “Let’s meet up later, yeah?”

She could only stare back at him, his touch on her arm making her go back into a stunned silence— confirming that he was indeed real. Her Toji was standing right in front of her. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest as she glanced down to his hand wrapped around her arm.

She swallowed before nodding, unable to speak from her small state of shock.

At that, he released her arm, stepping back with his eyes still on her— before he turned and walked away. Disappearing into the crowd of people walking across the street.

She didn’t watch his figure for too long, turning and quickly making her way back to Gojo and Geto, desperately trying to calm her racing heart.

The stares from people she passed went unnoticed, the confused glances sent her way as people saw her panicked state— her pace almost matching a sprint.

Moon couldn’t accept who she saw. She had to, but her mind was at war. Everything she believed— crumbling before her eyes. The lies, the stories— how much of what the Zenin’s told her was true?

She wanted to feel relieved from seeing Toji alive, but instead she felt sick. She felt messed with, her mind a game board for the Zenin’s to fiddle with. She hadn’t prepared herself to be forced back into the mindset— the mindset when she had heard Toji was dead.

It was the blurry memory of the years that passed after that, the horrid nights. The sweaty men visiting her at the late hours— the violation of it all. It came crashing into her, as she didn’t have any walls up. Nothing strong enough to keep the past from haunting her yet again.

Without Toji to cling to, it was hell— and to think he was alive the whole time made her sick. Had he hid away from her? Had he escaped without her? Why wasn’t he there?

Why wasn’t he there? Why wasn’t he there?? Why wasn’t he there???

She flinched backwards, her face colliding with a sturdy chest. If she was in her right mind, she would’ve smelled the familiar scent.

“Woah Nines! Where are you in a rush to?” The white haired sorcerer joked.

Moon went frozen in his hold, his hands on the sides of her arm to hold her upright— they felt foreign to her all of a sudden. The memory of the filthy men consuming her.

Gojo noticed her scared expression, his brows furrowing as he leaned down closer to her.

“Nines?” He tried again.

Her eyes shot up to his, her eyes wide and full of fear— her look making Gojo sick to his stomach. Never did he want her to look at him like that.

“Hey hey, you alright?”

Moon’s eyes danced from eye to eye, forcing herself to be familiar with his hypnotic blue orbs.

It was Gojo. It was only Gojo. She forced herself to remember.

Gojo couldn’t stand seeing her like this, his own anxiety bubbling within him.

“Moon, look at me,” He gently grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to level his face, “What happened?”

Her body shivered, the wave of warmth unexpected from his gesture. Her body relaxing slightly at his presence suddenly. Her bottom lip trembled as she fought her hardest to keep the tears from exposing themselves.

Gojo watched while he held his breath, patient as ever as he waited for a response. Although he never got one, instead she crashed herself against him. Burying herself into his embrace so desperately. Almost as if she was trying to hide from the world.

“Hey, Moon… it’s okay. I’ve got you… shhh.” He cooed, one of his hands cradling the back of her head while the other pressed tightly to the small of her back. “You’re okay. You’re okay… I’ve got you now.”

As much as she wished to slap herself out of this pathetic state, she only clung to his jacket with desperation. Her face buried into his chest, her tears drenching the fabric.

Gojo was confused— unsure of what brought on this reaction from her. However, he didn’t need an explanation right away. If it was comfort she so needed, he’d provide her with just that. If only she knew of how far Gojo would willingly go for her. He’d do anything she so asked.

The amount of power she held over him was terrifying— but he let her.

The only indication he got proving that she was crying, was the small jumps her body did every so often. Her sobs silenced by his chest, and by herself trying so hard to stay quiet. His heart throbbed within him, he himself hurting for her.

What came with the empathy, also came the rage. The primal desire to hunt and destroy whatever had caused you such pain. He was protective when you were in such a state, especially when you clung to him like this. He felt like he could destroy the whole world in the blink of an eye if it were the cause of your pain. He’d do it in a heartbeat.

As he thought before, you had so much power over him. It chilled him to his core.

Moon activated her cloaking technique, the ability bleeding onto him— and soon they were both hidden from the world.

Gojo felt the surprisingly pleasant buzzing sensation from Moon’s technique being used. Cloaking was quite useful in battles against enemies who didn’t know how to counter it— all the more useful when Moon could make others invisible as well.

Although he didn’t dwell on the pleasant buzz for long, instead curious as to what brought out this fear within her. This deep fear that made her want to hide.

“Moon, you gotta tell me what’s going on? You’re kinda scaring me.” He whispered, petting her hair down in the back of her head.

Moon pulled back, avoiding his concerned eyes as she pulled him gently to an empty alley. Gojo allowed her to lead him.

Only then when they were hidden away from prying eyes did she release her cloaking, the familiar ache in her head from use.

Gojo’s brows were drawn in, his expression soft as he stayed patient but it was clear he was eager to know what the cause of her distress was.

Moon sucked in a shaky breath, her hands trembling at her sides, her fingers fiddling with the ends of her uniform.

“I haven’t been completely transparent about my past.” Her voice was shaky, strained with fear. “For that, I’m sorry.”

Gojo was quick with the shake of his head, taking a step forward towards her.

“Moon, don’t you dare apologize.”

“It’s only fair you know. All my weird behavior. The stuff I…” She trailed off, her thoughts wandering back to their conversation days ago, “The things I hinted at… you deserve to know everything.”

Gojo held a pained look, not liking her need to reveal her past. Not that he’d mind. He’d be willing to hear her out whenever and by the ear she needed— but he couldn’t help but feel like she was forcing herself to bring up her past when she didn’t want to.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. Only if you want to.” He told her, holding her gaze with intensity.

Suddenly he wanted her back in his arms. His body felt colder without her touch.

“I want to.” Her voice was calm, her eyes holding his so deeply it had Gojo stirring up old feelings he tried to bury down.

He swallowed through a tight throat, nodding to her as his only response. 

She walked closer to him, causing Gojo’s hands to twitch at his sides. He wanted to hold her, needed to.

“You know I come from the Zenin Clan. Not blood but, that was my home for a while.” She told him, her voice barely a whisper. Like she was afraid of someone hearing. 

Gojo nodded, listening with unease. 

“I met someone there when I was young. They brought me comfort and we quickly became friends. He was one of the reasons I held on for so long– kept me sane.” Her lips couldn't help but quirk up from the memory of her and Toji so small.

Meanwhile, Gojo’s eyes narrowed. He? 

“He?” He hadn’t meant to voice his thoughts, but he was curious– jealous. 

Moon glanced up and read his expression. 

“His name was Toji.” The name felt bitter off of her lips, which saddened her. It hadn’t ever been like that– felt like that. 

“He was a Zenin?” 

“Born into the clan, yes.” She answered before chewing her lip. 

Gojo knew she hadn’t made her point yet, the storytelling only building up to something he probably wasn’t prepared for. 

“I saw him today.” She mumbled, Gojo barely catching it. 

His brows furrowed and he wondered.

“Was that why you were upset?” 

Moon nodded, the memories of the reunion only moments ago flashing in her mind. 

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was colder, more detached as he became protective– possessive. 

Moon closed the distance and grabbed onto his arms, forcing him to gaze into her eyes. 

“No, not physically at least.” Her words hadn’t comforted him like he hoped. “He was just… different from the last time I saw him. Just shocked me.” 

His eyes softened at her vulnerability, her willingness to be so open and honest. All because she wanted to. It warmed his heart as much as it pained him to know about her past. 

“I know it’s stupid to be upset about that but… he is the only good thing I cling to when it comes to my past.” She rushed out, while Gojo was now leaning down and looking into her eyes. 

“You need to stop apologizing. It’s okay to be upset. You’ve been through a lot.” He reassured her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms, her body relaxing from the sensation. 

She nodded and crushed herself to his chest, her arms looping around his lower back. She could feel his one second of surprise before he was caging himself around her. Finally, his body felt warm again. 

“Thank you.” She breathed.

“Don’t.” He mumbled into her hair, the memory of younger Toji’s voice echoing just as Gojo had said. 

With what she thought would bring unpleasant emotions, the moment only brought her comfort. A healing of her younger self. She didn’t think it was possible, but by his side it felt like it.

[radioghosts-freakster]

MY PRECIOUS ROCK ANGEL 😢💖💖💖💖💖💖

LOOK AT HIS SMILE!!!! HE HAS THE CUTEST, KINDEST SMILE KNOWN TO C.OOKI.EKIND!!!!! AND HE'S WAVING AT ME TOO... HI SWEETIE... 🥹💖

God, I wanna wear his fluffy half-coat SO BAD... stealing that mf while he sleeps and tucking it under my mattress 🥰

[chuluoyi]

jealousy, jealousy...

- nanami kento x reader

your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)

note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)

general masterlist

By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.

He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.

Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.

So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—

"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."

Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."

Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.

The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"

"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."

And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…

"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"

Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.

You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.

Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.

But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?

"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"

A puppy... is what?

That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.

No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!

The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.

Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.

Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.

"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.

Who... are you texting?

Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."

"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."

You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"

But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."

However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.

Ino.

A puppy is still a dog, you know~

The heck?

"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.

"Time for bed, dear."

Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.

The third time, Nanami had enough.

He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.

Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!

He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—

He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."

"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"

Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"

Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.

"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."

"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"

"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."

"...what?"

And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.

Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.

"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"

He huffed. "I was not jealous."

"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"

"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"

"Oh—?"

"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."

And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."

You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.

"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"

Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"

And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.

Epilogue

"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"

Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.

"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."

"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."

"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"

As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.

"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"

[u3pxx]

my comic for @aabadendingzine which is out for free over here.

extra stuff/commentary under the cut | like what i do? support me on ko-fi 💙

helloooo how's it going? i really hope you enjoyed the comic <3 it's rare for me to draw such wholesome things, i know [bats eyelashes]

DFGHDJKF ok i know, it's evil, the entire zine is evil you should go read it!!!!!!! but also, i remember coming up with this prompt and the image of mikeko trying to wake a dead apollo up evoked such a visceral reaction in me that i audibly went "NOOOOOO" when i thought it up LOL

the fourth page is the first page i ever thumbnailed bc i knew EXACTLY how i wanted this thing to end!

i think my favorite page of this comic is the 2nd page (the 4th page being my second favorite bc what can i say, i'm evil wheezes) i just really enjoyed drawing the montage of apollo going about his life and kristoph just. being there. always watching him.

i keep thinking about how spark brushel mentioned feeling like he was being watched those past 7 years. i imagined apollo would get a taste of that once he starts trying to find out the truth behind what happened in his first case.

and as for my favorite panel, I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE!! it's just fun shoving every important element alluding to the case 7 years ago to the moment when zak died!

and it's not very obvious but an element i really like about this one is zak still on the chair he died on. it's just his torso visible and i would've loved to make it more obvious that he's there but oh well.

i can't think of anything else to add about drawing this so i'll end it by saying: PLEASE GO READ THE ZINE, IT'S SO SOS SOSOSOS FULL OF LOVE FOR HURT AND TRAGEDY AND THE WAY MY FELLOW ZINEMATES EXPLORED THAT IS SUCH!!! GOOD AND HEARTWRENCHING STUFF!!!!!!!!!

i had to take a break from reading the zine when i went out to finish it bc my chest started to physically hurt bc ohhhhh lordy, it just hurt. it just hurt a lot! (please do read the trigger warnings before reading the thing bc this zine deals with a lot of heavy stuff!)

i like to joke about how i'm evil and enjoy evil things such as angst no comfort which. well, it's kind of true LMAO so i'm thrilled that i was able to be a part of this zine and cook up something completely terrible <3

here's the link for it again, go read it!

[rosesaints]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* HIT ME HARD AND SOFT!

DID I BREAK YOUR HEART? DID I WASTE YOUR TIME? ⸻ t. fushiguro, g. suguru, n. kento, g. satoru

summary: your breakup (and sometimes makeup) sex experiences with jjk men when inspired by the new billie eilish album! angst. warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of infidelity, lots of angst lol, unprotected sex, breeding kink (nanami), fingering, oral (f!receiving)

: ̗̀➛ TOJI FUSHIGURO

I SAW YOU IN THE CAR WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND COULDN'T SLEEP! if something happens to him, you can bet that it was me.

toji doesn't know how he feels about the fact that you've moved on, and he decides to do something about it.

"is this really what you're doing now? living the dream?"

toji has this remarkable talent of sensing when you're finally at peace. you had just been dropped off at your aparment by your date, and the dust hadn't even settled yet before toji materialized by your door.

"that's exactly what the fuck i'm doing," you scoffed. red hot anger coursing through your veins as he acts like your relationship was nothing more than a lunatic pipe dream. like the very prospect of you being happy with someone else was an idea so foreign, it was laughable. "go home, toji. i don't even know why you came. did you really think that coming here, guns blazing and chest puffed up, would convince me to come back?"

toji appraises you for a moment, and it shouldn't send a shock down your spine, but the next thing he says does.

"has he made you cum?"

you freeze.

the truth was, your date hasn't. poor guy couldn't even last four seconds inside you before cumming, sheepishly evading you afterwards to clean himself off to properly satisfy you.

"you heard me, sweetheart. i won't ask again," toji grins. "what's wrong? where's all that fire you had earlier?"

"n-no," you try hard to fight the humiliation that threatens to bubble over in your chest. "not...not yet⸺"

he's stepping forward in mere moments, crowding you into your apartment and locking the door behind him, a wicked smile on the edge of his lips.

"you know, i like this new persona of yours. seriously, i really do," he's so close, invading your personal space and you can feel how hard he's getting against your thigh. "all this bite, all this fire, it's fucking sexy. but i think it's time to stop fucking around and come home, yeah?"

you know there's only ever been one way to go with toji.

"you poor thing," much later, to his delight, toji's got his one of his hands working back and forth over your cunt, pleased at how soaked and needy and docile you were, hips jutting forward to meet his rough, calloused hand. his other hand's wrapped around your much smaller hand, jerking him off in a brutal and agonizing pace. he curses at the way you're grazing your teeth over his neck, whimpering every time he circles your clit. "fuck. so fucking needy."

"pretty little cunt's gone so long without being touched, huh? that's okay," you shiver when his voice drops, dripping with determination. "we've got all week to make up for all that lost time."

: ̗̀➛ GETO SUGURU

I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT. you could've been the greatest.

you've tried your best to keep geto satisfied for the longest time, to let him get his rest, but you can't fight how alone you've felt anymore.

"you'll go," the words are exhausting and holds the weight of a future you can never have. a future where he doesn't go, a future where you don't have to settle for staying. "and i'll stay."

you've watched him come and go for years, sometimes with a smile on your face, most times with tears in your eyes. this time, you're struck with the realization that you just feel nothing. none of the flightless uncertainty, none of the promises that you tell yourself that he'll find his way back. it's terrifying.

"i think we have to end it, sugu."

there was no prelude, no warning signs. geto had stopped by the night that he came back, soft and boneless and aching for your touch and your comfort. the realization hit you in the middle of such a routine and familiar night, geto sprawled across your bed in the most peaceful state you've seen him for so long as you got ready for bed. it kills you to have to shatter that, but you think it'll shatter you if you keep holding back. "don't know how much more i can take of this."

geto sighs. he would be stupid to not see this was coming.

every time he said goodbye only got harder and harder and harder, and he could see the way you dimmed every time he pulled away.

but he was selfish, so selfish, and willed himself to ignore it and hold on for a little bit longer. to chase that high of getting to know you, getting to feel your touch on his skin, spend nights draped across each other and whispering sweet nothings.

he nods. "i understand."

when you join him underneath the covers and he leans into your touch, hot and full of want for things he can't have, you let him take the clothes off your back, let him drift lower and lower until he presses sweet kisses to your thighs.

your breath stutters, and he wants to consume you. wants to remember how you taste, how you whine and plead for more, the way you used to look at him with reverence. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks like he wants to make a home out of you, hand reaching up to cup a hand around your breast and graze your nipple.

tightening your thighs around his head deprives him of his oxygen, makes him forget what's going to come next.

you come on his tongue, heart hollow and echoing.

he could've been the greatest.

"i'll come back," there was something solemn in his voice, a grief that overcomes him in waves. he pushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and knows. "and you'll come with me."

: ̗̀➛ NANAMI KENTO

OPEN UP THE DOOR, CAN YOU OPEN UP THE DOOR? i know you said before you can't cope with any more.

it's been a year since you broke up with nanami. you don't know what to say, so you let your actions speak for you.

you're not sure why you called. it came so easily, like muscle memory, typing his number into your phone and calling a number you haven't dialed in a long time. it rings once before he's picking up, voice laced with worry and confusion and the sound of your name on his lips sounds like everything you've missed in the past year. "what's wrong?"

"kento, come home. i miss you," your breaths are coming out in shallow waves, anxious and jittery as you await his response on the other side of the call. "i know i said before that i can't cope anymore, but i want to try, really try this time."

"i'll be there soon. stay... stay right where you are."

it takes him all of seven to come knocking at your door, chest panting and leaning against the doorway in a daze, like he's still in disbelief that you've allowed him back. "is this... is this real?"

he's had dreams about this exact moment, plagued with the thoughts of how it ended the last time, how you'd broken down in his arms in defeat⸺he's had time to think through every possible scenario, every way that he could prove to you that he would change, he would make you a priority, spend the rest of his days making it up to you.

"i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you⸺" nanami, normally so composed and careful with his words, can't help that all his emotions, all the love he's held safe for you in his chest, tumbles out like a flash flood. all you can do is nod helplessly,

when you cum, it's with a gasp, back arching off the bed as he maneuvers your body with an easy familiarity that can only be acquired through years of experience, years of knowing your body inside and out.

he's not too far behind, getting closer and closer the more he looks at your wrecked and fucked-out expression. he laces a hand through yours, intertwined.

"never gonna let you go again," his thrusts are getting more impulsive, thoughts going hazy when he thinks of you, swollen with his baby with the happiest expression on your face. "i think it's time we start a family."

: ̗̀➛ GOJO SATORU

I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE, BUT I'M SO BLUE! i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you.

your ex-boyfriend gojo just can't bring himself to get over you.

in a lot of ways, being with gojo was like staring into the sun. on your first date, he had taken you on a picnic overlooking the shakujii river to go see the cherry blossoms. your head was on his lap and he had gently titled your head back, chuckling as you closed your eyes as per his instructions. "just close for a moment," you hummed, but the sensation of warm sunlight was overtaken by the feeling of being cradled in his hands. "open your eyes."

for a moment, all you could see was light, vibrant blue. eyes adjusting to the sun, until bright sapphire eyes came into focus. it was the happiest you had seen him for a while. "did you feel it?"

at the time, you didn't understand what he wanted you to see, didn't know what it was that he wanted you to search for.

did you feel it?

this time, the roles are reversed. you're cradling his head in your hands as he's fallen to his knees in front of you, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay as he presses his head into your abdomen, shoulders shaking with the intensity of his emotions, holding onto you like a lifeline. "satoru, i don't know if i can keep doing this anymore."

"no, you don't mean that."

"we can't keep doing this," you weren't a fool. you know he hasn't been doing well, can see it in the dark circles that have temporarily made a home under his eyes, the cursed energy that radiates off of him in waves. "you can't just keep coming back, sa⸺gojo. you have to move on."

when he rises, he places his head onto your shoulder, and for a moment, the rush of familiarity overpowers you. "satoru. just say my name please, that's all i'll ask for."

"satoru⸺"

he's pressing warm, soft kisses against your neck, nuzzling and inhaling the scent of your hair. his hands are exploring the length of your back, fingertips slowly dragging across your skin. when he pulls back to look at you, sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears, you find yourself spiraling again.

it's so much easier to forget that it's over, really over, when he's fucking into you like it's the last time. it's in the slow drag of his dick as he takes his time to soak it all in, the sensuous pace that he knows drives you crazy. you're not sure where you end and where he begins, hands holding onto your waist like a lifeline as he snaps his hips. it sends tremors down your spine and you see stars behind your eyes.

satoru cups your cheek, and it's like burning alive, like a fever you can't shake. "that's it, sweetheart, fall apart for me."

when you pull the blanket over him later, under the soft glow of the moonlight, you think you realize what he meant all those years back.

he's all you could see.

© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[freedomfireflies]

One Day*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.

Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*

“I’m late.”

“For what?”

You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”

Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”

He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”

“Do you want me to freak out?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”

“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”

You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”

“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”

“Not…exactly.”

His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”

You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”

You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”

“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”

“You just said you preferred calm—”

“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”

“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”

He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”

Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.

Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.

He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change. 

It drives you nuts.

“Five minutes,” you tell him.

He nods.

Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.

“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”

Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”

Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”

You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.

“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”

“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”

His eyebrow raises.

You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”

“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”

“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”

You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”

“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”

“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”

He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”

“What?”

“Ask me what you wanna know.”

You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”

“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”

“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”

He grins. “Excuse me?”

“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”

“This isn’t an interview—”

“Answer.”

“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”

His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”

“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”

“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”

“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”

“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”

He waits.

“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”

He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”

You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”

“Why not? People do it all the time.”

“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”

“So?”

“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”

Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”

Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”

You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”

“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”

“Oh, great.”

“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”

A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”

“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”

“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”

The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”

“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”

“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”

“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”

“I…I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”

You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.

The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”

Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”

“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”

So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.

Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”

“Hm?”

“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”

The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.

“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”

He considers this. “Like fate.”

“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”

“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”

You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh…okay?”

He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”

You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”

“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—

No. Nope. You aren’t going there.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”

You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”

“Oh, fucking obviously.”

The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.

“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”

“Oh…I…I know.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”

Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.

I’d love you.

He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”

“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”

“Good. Yeah.”

The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”

“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”

You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes. 

The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.

You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch. 

And then…you see Harry.

In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.

You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.

It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it. 

As long as you get to live it with him.

“So?” Harry calls from the hall.

You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.

Negative.

Negative.

No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.

You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.

“Tink?”

You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”

He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”

You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”

“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”

“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”

“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”

A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”

For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.

Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”

You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.

“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”

He smirks.

“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”

“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”

You gasp. “Rude.”

“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”

You swat him again. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to picture it.”

“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”

“Yeah…no.”

However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”

Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.

He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”

You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”

“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”

He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?” 

His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”

“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”

He scoffs. “Oh, no?”

You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”

He makes another noise, and you tsk.

“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”

Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”

His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it. 

But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.

You want an escape.

And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.

He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.

He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.

You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”

“Shut up.”

He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.

His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking. 

No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown. 

And you happen to like showing him.

You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”

Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.” 

He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame. 

When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.

In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.

He smiles.

You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.

He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.

“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”

You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip. 

“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”

You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.

“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”

You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.

“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”

“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”

He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"

“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—

He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”

You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm. 

“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”

Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”

“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”

A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.

He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”

He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”

“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”

“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”

Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”

“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”

Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."

He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”

“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”

You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”

He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.

Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.

Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.

 Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.

You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high. 

“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”

“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”

“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”

You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.

Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.

“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”

Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.

He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer. 

“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”

You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back. 

You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.

“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.

He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”

He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.

The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.

Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”

You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You said I’m your favorite person.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.   

You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.

“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”

He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”

Your heart leaps. “…oh.”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”

You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.

He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.

But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.

You grin.

“One day.”

AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!

Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe

Also, if you see any mistakes……no you don’t 🫶

~  Full 404 Masterlist

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