#and i really want the sorrow to be addressed more

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.���

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’��� I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[mindbreak]

tw: noncon, threats baby trapping, yandere gojo x reader, manipulation, satosugu mention, mentions of forced marriage, stalking, light mindbreak mention.

tags: satoru gojo x special grader sorcerer reader

I do not condone any of the acts mentioned in this drabble in real life. Minors Do Not Interact. No Age in Bio Will be Blocked.

I can't stop thinking about a needy and clingy Yandere Gojo. In the jujutsu world where everyone sees him as a weapon, you being one of the only people who sees him for who he truly is.

Of course, it wouldn't start that way, in the beginning, the two of you would just be really good friends.

You'd be a special-grade sorcerer just like him, joining their little trio during your younger years. You'd understand him when he'd talk about his clan and all the heavy pressure they placed on him and how all of it stripped him of an actual childhood. The both of you laughing together at Geto's bangs while he calls the two of you childish but also butting heads with him from time to time when he took a joke too far.

You'd be the only one to witness him in at his most vulnerable. Watching him with such sad eyes as he sobs to you about Geto leaving him behind. About how he's never felt more alone. You'd try to comfort him by telling him he still had you. It would only be meant as a way to comfort him; for him to see that he wasn't the strongest by himself, that there was still someone who cared for him. And in that moment, he'd probably calm down, and you'd ignore the desperate yet dark look he got in his eyes as he made you promise to never leave him.

Never would you imagine just how much your dynamic would change after that. From him following you around the school grounds, to him randomly popping up on missions with souvenirs. It would seem cute and harmless at first but suffocating as his visits only get to be more frequent and his demands more and more intense.

He'd isolate you from the others, not wanting you to get close to anyone else. He'd also manipulate the hire-ups into keeping you away from the others like Nanami or Haibara. Why would you need to go on missions with them? They were strong enough, and he needed you more. Afterall, special grade sorcerers had to fight the most dangerous of curses! You should be at his side!

His touching would become incessant. He'd be insatiable, greedy. In the beginning it would just be hugs, him needing you to hold onto him but it would gradually get more and more intense, from hungry kisses full of tongue and teeth to him dropping his infinity just to feel the soft skin beneath your shirt.

You'd let it slide for the most part, trying to be empathetic, taking pity on him in such a sorrowful state. But, after years passing his heavy make-outs and one-nightstands would go from stealing your breath away to just suffocating you entirely.

You would tell him you need space and he'd only get worse. Afterall why would you need space from him? Were you planning on leaving?? You couldn't leave!! He'd rather die than live without you!!

He'd get rougher with you then, holding onto you so tight that you could feel bruises forming on your skin beneath his iron clad grip. You didn't need space, if anything, he needed to be around more so that you'd see how much he needed you!

It would get so emotionally draining, until finally you'd up and leave Jujutsu entirely. Or you would try to at least...

"Gojo how did you get my address?" you'd ask him one day as he randomly popped up at your home one day at 3 in the morning with puffy eyes.

And he wouldn't answer, only forcing his way inside, and wrapping himself around you, shaking violently as he keeps you held close in his embrace. He'd be angry at you for leaving, because you promised to stay. You couldn't leave him. He wouldn't allow it. Even if that meant keeping you there by force.

And maybe you'd scream and try to get away for a while as he pushed your body into the floor, but that was okay because once you were carrying his child you'd have no choice but to stay...right? Your clan would be more than happy to marry you off to the strongest modern sorcerer, and your kids would look so cute!

He'd whisper such delusions into your ear while forcing himself inside, covering your mouth with his hands when you tried to protest all while telling you that you'd accept him soon enough and - "Oh you feel so good baby, even better than I imagined."

If you tried to push him off, it would be of no use, he'd just fuck you harder every time you tried to squirm away. Deeper when you try pushing him away. Faster when you beg him to stop.

"I love you...geto.." he'd cry into your ear, clearly in a deluded state while pounding deep into your sex.

He'd kiss you desperately, sucking out all your air as he cums inside you over and over and over again, until finally, your body is too weak to continue on resisting.

And even then, he wouldn't stop. You'd sooner pass out with exhaustion, only to wake up with his arms around you, his face buried in your tummy, as he cries and begs you not to leave him.

It'd be even more twisted when you tell him you don't love him, and the tears come to a sudden halt, and you're uncertain as to whether he's taking a mask off or putting one on in that moment, as he tells you it doesn't matter what you want, because he'll come back anyway. He'll tell you it doesn't matter where you go, or how far you try to run to get away from him, you're his and he'll keep raping you until it's drilled into your mind that you're his.

++ Added bonus if you actually do try to run, and he does in fact keep his promise. Finding you every single time and fucking you on every surface he can reach, until your brain becomes fog and you forget why you ever wanted to run from such a good feeling to begin with.

++ Additional bonus if both your clans actually find out and forces you to marry him for status and power, forcing you to be stuck with him whether you like it or not.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Kiss Me Tender (Castiel)

Summary: you confess to Castiel that you're in love with him.

Warnings: fluff <3

WC: 690

Read on Ao3!

-

The quiet hum of the bunker surrounded you, a stark contrast to the chaos that often came with hunting. Tonight, however, was different. Sam had gone off to research something, and Dean was off on a supply run. It left you alone with Castiel, the former angel who seemed to understand both the beauty and sorrow of the world better than anyone you’d ever known.

You sat in the library, surrounded by old books and maps, pretending to focus on something, but your mind kept wandering to the angel across from you. His intense blue eyes scanned through ancient texts, but every so often, you’d catch him glancing your way. There was a gentleness in his expression that made your heart flutter, something you tried to push down for far too long.

“What are you reading?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Castiel blinked and looked up at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “I’m researching a new demon sigil Dean wanted me to examine. It’s... fascinating.”

You chuckled softly. “Fascinating? Demons aren’t really fascinating, Cas. They’re kind of the opposite.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Yes, but their sigils are intricate. There’s something beautiful about how even the most malevolent beings can create something complex.”

That was Castiel—always finding beauty in unexpected places. The way he saw the world never ceased to amaze you. But it wasn’t just his perspective that drew you to him; it was his kindness, his loyalty, and his growing humanity.

He shifted in his seat, closing the book and setting it aside. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated. There had been a tension building between the two of you for weeks, an unspoken energy that neither of you dared to address. And now, sitting alone in the dimly lit library, you felt it more than ever.

“I’m fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. It wavered, carrying a weight that you couldn’t hide anymore.

Castiel’s eyes softened as he stood up, moving closer to you. He knelt by your side, his gaze locked on yours. “You don’t seem fine.”

Your breath hitched as his hand gently touched yours. His warmth seeped into your skin, and for a moment, everything else faded away. You had no words, no witty remark, no excuse. Only the truth you had been running from.

“I think I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted it, feeling the air between you grow thick with uncertainty. But Castiel didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away or seem confused.

Instead, his thumb brushed over your knuckles, his touch steady. “You think?”

A small laugh escaped your lips. “Okay... I know I love you.”

His expression softened, and his eyes shone with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Affection? Or something deeper? You weren’t sure.

“I’m... not very familiar with love,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost vulnerable. “But I know how I feel when I’m with you. It’s... different. Strong.”

Your heart raced as he continued.

“I feel... grounded. Like I belong. You’ve shown me things I never understood before—feelings I never knew I could have.”

You could barely breathe as he spoke, every word drawing you closer to him.

“I think I love you too,” Castiel finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, filled with all the unspoken words between you. It was gentle at first, but as he deepened the kiss, you felt the weight of his confession, the purity of his affection.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other. Neither of you said anything for a moment, basking in the warmth of the moment.

“I’ve waited so long to say that,” you whispered.

Castiel smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face. “Then let’s not wait anymore.”

--

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

SPN FOREVER PERM: @amelia-song-pond @kenzieam @flamencodiva @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

CASTIEL: @hallecarey1

[timewillpasssoon]

NO ME QUEDA MÁS

pairing . Joost Klein x singer-gn! reader

content . you are addressed as 'reader', reader can be seen as male or female, mentions of unrequited love, jealousy, insecurities, suggestive mentions, making out, best friends to lovers, angst to fluff

summary . you find out that your crush of three years, Joost Klein, might have a girlfriend, you can't hold onto your feelings anymore.

word count . 2.7k words, 15,6k characters

author's note . i love Selena, i grew up with her music and this song is the bomb. i HAD to make a fic. wanted to make this pure angst but the angel on my shoulder said no. sorry for not uploading, gas leak in my house iususisjhs, also sorry to all the Jazlyns...

These past three years have been an agonizing struggle, concealing your true feelings in the depths of your heart. Having to pretend that you don't see him in a romantic light. During meet-ups with the friend group, you have act as if his light touches don't affect you, that they don't make you think of unspoken actions.

Despite knowing Joost for a decade, it's only recently, three years ago, that you've confronted your true feelings. The realization that your heart yearns for more than just a friendship with him shattered your view of Joost. You recalled of all the time where you dreamt of him. The way he loved you in those dreams made you squeal with excitement, though, you always remind yourself that those are just silly dreams. The weight of this secret is unbearable. No one can know of this, especially Joost.

A year ago, a new addition was made upon the friend circle you are apart of. Appie introduced her into the group, Jazlyn. She quickly found her place among the group, being welcomed with open arms by everyone, which included you. With each gathering from then on, the dynamic shifted, letting her in on the activities the group does. As precious time went by, everyone could see the slight bond between Jazlyn and Joost.

You got word that the two were hanging out privately within nine months of knowing her. There was an unwelcomed feeling in you, jealousy, which was brewing up inside you. The horrid feeling took root within your heart. The thought of Joost being with some else haunted you. When they were seen to have a moment together, shadows filled with doubt and insecurity casted over you.

They were seen as a cute match, flaunted as a picture perfect match. That ignited a volcano of emotion within you, a blend of rage and sorrow. You longed to be the one by his side, to be his perfect match. Yet the shards of your broken heart prevented you from vocalizing your feelings. Your silence was too haunting that Joost couldn't help but notice. He was accustomed to your endless support and enthusiasm, so when you kept to yourself for a few months, he sensed the complete switch.

The announcement of Joost's acceptance into Eurovision was exciting- thrilling. You were overjoyed with happiness, your heart filled with support. You were planning on congratulating him with a typical hug with words of support and love. But before you were able to, Jazlyn took the chance to lunged at him like a leech. She showered him with affection.

She held him in her grasp, not letting Joost go for what felt like two whole minutes, he didn't let go. You hoped he did, but he embraced her as well, pulling his right hand over her. Looking at everyone, then to you. Full eye contacted was made, Joost really could sense something was wrong.

That night, you made a conscious choice to retreat into silence, to shield your heart, sacrificing the warmth of his presence to protect yourself from further pain and heartbreak.

Your interactions with Joost reduced to mere small talk. Despite his much persistent attempts to figure out why you have been so detached, you would dismiss his worries by say, "I'm fine." Yet Joost remained suspicious, you're 'reassurance' was not much help.

You didn't have much courage to confess your feelings knowing something might be happening between Jazlyn and Joost.

You had nothing left other than to just cheer for the two.

All you can do is relegate yourself in the shadows, concealing the overbearing thoughts of Joost. Over the span of two lonely months, you had hope, deep in your soul, that one day he'll return to you- to stay with you. That hope slowly faded, the past two months passed breezily and there was still no confidence in you to speak your mind. Your heart having to play as if you only see him as a friend.

Within the complex code of your feelings, the realization settles in. That you played yourself a fool. You thought the love you had for Joost was to be reciprocated, but amongst more thoughts to yourself, it was truly just banter for Joost. All the jokes about being each others future every things were empty, sweet, nothings.

. year twenty thirteen

"What if I never find a boyfriend?" You say, chewing apart the gummy bear in your mouth into shreds. The scenery ahead of you two was quite beautiful. Joost and you were having a picnic in a near by park. He smiled, his eyes illuminated by the soft hues of the late afternoon. He was on your left, a light chuckles left his lips. "I'm sure you'll find someone charming and handsome, reader!"

"Someone like you?"

you joked, but now that you think back, it wasn't a joke.

He laugh at your quote-on-quote joke, his hands grabbing a gummy bear. "let's make a promise," He shifted to his right so he can fully face you, "If were are still single by the age of... thirty, we'll marry each other!" Your eyes widened, you heart beating a little more faster for some reason. Your hands shaking just a tiny bit.

"How did you come up with his promise?" You tilt your head to the right, your eyes locked with his. "I just want an excuse to be able to marry you." he pauses for your response, but your not quite sure if he's joking or not. He quickly laughed at his own joke so you can tell he wasn't serious.

Something in you wanted him to be serious.

"So?" Joost says, waiting for an answer. "Don't you think thirty is a bit young?" Joost nodded, his right hand placed on your left shoulder just now. "Fine~"

"If we are still single at thirty-five, we will marry each together!" He stuck his hand out, all his fingers down except for his pinky.

You reach for his pinky, interlocking yours with his.

"Alright!! Deal."

. year twenty twenty-four

Eurovision ended, it was an crazy event that was not at all fair. the whole time when Joost was in Sweden, he tried to text you everyday, yet you wouldn't respond. when you do reply, it would be excuses on why you haven't responded. saying that you're busy with producing your latest song, that you are at an event and so on.

Upon Joost's return to the Netherlands a week post-Eurovision, Appie and Stunje orchestrated a small gathering for everyone in the friend group to relax and celebrate the amazing achievement the three men achieved, despite the horrible treatment they got they stood tall. Reminding each other that making it to Eurovision was still a life long goal they had.

As you entered the restaurant selected by Appie and Stunje, the smell of delectable cuisines floated around the establishment lure your senses from the moment you stepped in. Approaching the hostess, you asked if there wads a reservation under the name of Joost. With a gracious smile, she directed your eyes to the spacious booth in the left side of you. You thanked her and walked to the circle booth. In the middle of the circle booth was Joost and Jazlyn, him being on Jazlyn's left side.

As you drew in a breath, a smile graced your lips. Sending a wave to your friends, commencing a exhale with a hint of nervousness. "Hey guys, sorry for being late!" You spoke up so they can hear you through out the other building's noises. Appie's grin enlarged upon your arrival. "No need for apologies, you're five minutes late tops!" He said cheerfully, as the others echoed their reassurances, Appie casually passed you a menu. "Order what you want." He encouraged you to get whatever delight you desired.

The gathering that was ensuing was a nice, relax one. Where everyone was sharing experiences and exchanges. Stunje, Appie, and Joost telling the group about the adventures they had in Sweden, beyond Eurovision. After that you eagerly said details about the latest and upcoming album in the making. The remaining in the group also recounted their own memorable adventures and enjoyed time from the preceding two months.

"To Joost!" exclaimed a friend, lifting their glass of liquor in a toast, prompting others to follow them. In unison, everyone raised their glasses, their voices saying, "To Joost!" With that announcement, they all partook in a sip, sealing the sentiment of celebration.

Some time has now past from the first shot of liquor, what seemed to be around an hour and a half of more and more talking and drinks. Throughout the event, you could feel a pair of eyes on your body. You looked at Joost a couple of times, often catching him staring at you, sometimes he wouldn't look away when you caught him. You often had to be the one looking away.

What was up with him? You think in your mind, the weight of his staring making you start to slouch in your seat. You weren't uncomfortable, you were more curious of why he would staring at you and not Jazlyn.

As the alcohol began to take its effect, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, ushering in a wave of lighthearted banter.

Amidst the hangout, one friend, ventured into more intimate territory. "So, spill, Joost and Jazlyn," they teased, their curiosity peaking. "What really goes down when you guys are alone?"

When the question popped, Joost shifted in his seat, his eyes hovering over you and the friend. Jazlyn seemed to love the question, clearly into him as well. "That's a secret between us!" She exclaimed, hinting to something suggestive. Joost shook his head in defense at her as some quietly yelped an 'oooh'. "Nothing really happened, we accidentally stumbled on each other at a cafe." His defense silenced the people at the table, he soon turned his gaze at you.

An individual detected the palpable tension polluting the atmosphere and drifted the conversation towards more joyful topics. As the subject shifted, so did the collective mood, transitioning into a brighter one. However, despite the huge effort to uplift everyone, your countenance remained stone cold, a hint of heartbreak brewing beneath the surface. Despite your façade of a fake light smile, the searing ache of what really could've between them gnawed at your soul.

You found yourself stuck in your head and loathing- yearning for him still. The desire for his touch in places deemed inappropriate stirred in your head. You wanted him all over you, and you hated yourself for it. Similar thoughts were in Joost's mind, craving to feel your hands upon his body. He wished you were the one clinging on to him, not Jazlyn.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled in your eyes until the ringtone of your phone jolted you back to the present moment. Hastily, you lowered your head to covert your face, also stealing a glance at who was calling, which was Bambie. With a shaky voice, you excused yourself from the table, "I need to take this…" The sadness in your voice betraying you. As you raised your head slightly, Joost's view revealed the glisten of tears in your eyes and the wetness of your left cheek. Rising from your chair, you swiftly answered the call and hurried out of the restaurant.

Your voice quivered slightly as you responded to the call, "Hello?" Stepping outside the establishment, you were met with Bambie's eager greeting, "Hey reader-!!!" However, their sentence trailed off as concern laced their voice. "What happened?" Bambie's voice dripped with worry, ears catching the shiver in your voice that hinted at tears.

"Nothing happened-"

"Do not say that! Tell me the truth."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing that not answering Bambie's questions would be futile.

"It's just Joost. I need to get over him. Jazlyn is clearly into him, and he's probably reciprocates those feelings," The weight of unspoken emotions bearing down on you. Finding solace on a nearby bench along a secluded pathway, you continued,

"I've held these feelings for what feels like a lifetime, yet I've never found the courage to confess. Maybe if I had spoken up years ago… maybe then, I would have stood a chance."

The discourse extended for an additional eight minutes, during which Bambie provided comfort and support. Throughout, a mutual exchange of humor ignited shared laughter. As the conversation drew to a conclusion, Bambie's attention was diverted by another incoming call, ending the conversation with you short.

Once you ended the call, you sat by yourself. The scenery before you was beautiful. Despite the unwavering support offered by Bambie, your heart remained steadfast in its love for Joost.

The thoughts in your head circled back. there was still tears in your eyes. You sighed at looked at your lap, not noticing the person walking up to you.

"You okay?"

You looked up to see who was there.

Joost.

With a swift gesture, you brushed away the traces of your tears, composing yourself and assuming an upright posture. "Yeah, I'm fine," you uttered, averting your gaze from his eyes. In response, he emitted a soft sigh, removing his jacket as he sat next to you. Draping it around your shoulders, "What's really going on?" he persisted, his tone had a twinged with concern, prompting a deeper exploration of your underlying emotions.

"You've been weird since Jazlyn was invited in the friend group."

You rolled your eyes at his try to get you out of your shell. You didn't respond to him, "C'mon reader! Please, tell me..." Joost's voice was very whiny, that made you bite your lip. "Why do you want to know? Go back inside, it's your party after all... you should be there."

"It's not fun without you. I miss you." You look at his eyes, around three inches apart from each others lips.

"I just been busy. It's taken effect on me." You weren't really lying, you have been busy with your new album. Although, that's not the real reason why you were crying today.

"Be honest with me!" He begged you with deep whininess in his voice. "Please."

As you remained motionless, a palpable tension hung in the air, from the intensity of his gaze. His piercing blue eyes wants to see every contour of your body, as if seeking to unravel the deepest secrets of you, imbuing the moment with an undeniable sense of desire.

"We should go back inside." Your asserted dominate. Your stern voice made him widen his eyes for a bit, catching him off guard, before going back to his begging eyes. His fingers lingered to yours momentarily, it was his silent plea of more connection to one another. "I'm begging you reader," He stopped to catch his breath.

"Please, please, please. I won't judge you."

You still didn't have the confidence to confess, yet you were prepared to get rejected. "Joost, I have to confess something."

You breathe in and exhale lightly. "I like you- a lot. I liked you since the day I met you."

His demeanor softened perceptibly, a subtle shift that suggested a newfound sense of ease. "If you don't like me back, I understand-." He stopped you by grabbing your hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"h-huh?"

You stared at him like he was crazy, yet he was still waiting for an answer. "I like you too reader. Since the day we had that picnic... it felt like you've casted a spell on me."

"You remember the promise?" Your heart swelling from his confession. You intertwined your fingers with his, placing both of your guy's hands on your lap.

"Yeah. I was afraid you forgot about." You laugh at that joke. You? Forget that precious moment?

Never.

"Kiss me." You whispered, not having much confidence behind those two words. He smiled, pride and love in his face. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, you and Joost's eyes locked in a silent exchange of longing and anticipation.

He inched his face closer to yours, his free hand was placed on your chin. You couldn't wait any longer, not even a second more. You filled the gap between you, lunging your lips onto his. Your free hand on the back of his head.

Your two's lips met in a tender collision, a symphony of sensation that sent shivers down each person's spine. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the gentle exploration of each other's warmth.

Joost pulled away before coming back for seconds. The small kisses grew more urgent, more steamy. The two lost themselves in the passionate, heated make out session. Them wanting more, to take off the cloth that's covering the parts they want to see.

As they broke off the kiss, their chests rose and fell between seconds. They stared at each other, lust in there eyes, yet loved was the more massive feelings as of right now.

HAD TO CUT IT SHORT OF I WANTED TO FINISH IT. lowkey would've wrote 1k more if i didn't have a deadline for myself. take care guys

[alyrasturnz]

can you write something related to hits different with matt?? like reader and matt have been on and off and after months of reader going on dates trying to get over matt they ultimately end up back together with a good ending?

HITS DIFFERENT

❐ summary » y/n and matt have had a rollercoaster of a relationship, characterized by cyclical separations and reunions. after an extended period of y/n engaging in a series of dates, endeavoring to extricate herself from the lingering affections for matt, she realizes that no one compares to matt. despite the myriad of challenges and emotional vicissitudes, their bond remains indomitable.

❐ pairings » ex!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » angst (happy ending), argument, swearing, lowkey cheating, toxicity, toxic relationship

❐ a/n && w/c » i fucking hate physics. physics could eat my pussy dry idc • 2.67k

you paced restlessly around the room, your footsteps echoing like distant thunder, the tension so palpable it seemed to pulse with every heartbeat. "matt, we can't keep doing this. one minute we're together, the next we're not. it's exhausting."

matt sighed deeply, his hand moving through his hair in a gesture of frustration and weariness. "you think i don't know that? but every time we try to make it work, something always comes up!"

you crossed your arms, your frustration palpable in the stiff set of your shoulders. "maybe because we never really address the issues. we just keep pushing them aside, hoping they'll disappear."

matt's eyes flashed with anger, a storm brewing beneath the surface. "and what issues are those, the ones you never want to talk about?"

your voice escalated, quivering with pent-up exasperation. "you're the one who always shuts down! every time i try to talk, you just walk away!”

matt recoiled slightly, his expression solidifying into a stoic mask. he took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing as if bracing for an unseen storm. "maybe because i'm tired of the same arguments over and over. i'm tired of this rollercoaster."

your voice quivered with sorrow, your lips pressing together in a desperate attempt to hold back the flood of emotions. "so what, you're just giving up?"

matt's jaw tightened, the muscles in his face becoming taut with restrained emotion. "it's not about giving up. it's about recognizing the toxicity between us. we keep hurting eachother.”

your eyes welled up with tears, shimmering like fragile crystals on the brink of shattering. "so you're saying this is all my fault?"

matt shook his head, the frustration boiling over like a pot left too long on the stove. "no, i'm saying we're both to blame. but i'm the one who's had enough. i'm done pretending that everything's fine when it's not."

your voice broke, trembling with a mix of desperation and hope. "matt, please, we can work on this."

matt's face flushed with a deep, crimson anger. "work on what? the endless cycle of breaking up and getting back together? it's like we're trapped in a loop, and it's consuming me from the inside out."

your hands quivered uncontrollably as you took a tentative step forward, only to feel your heart disintegrate into countless fragments as he took a step back. "i love you, matt. isn't that enough?"

matt's eyes softened momentarily, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability, before hardening once more. "love isn't meant to feel like this. it's not supposed to be a battlefield where we cannibalize each other's spirits."

your voice fractured, barely holding together. "so what, you're just going to walk away? after everything we've been through?”

matt seized his jacket with a determined grip, his face set like chiseled stone. "i'm fucking done; i can't do this anymore." he stormed out with a force that seemed to shake the very foundation of your world, leaving you standing there, stunned and forsaken. 

the echoes of your shattered relationship reverberated through the room, a haunting reminder of love's fragile nature. as the door slammed shut, the silence that followed was deafening, enveloping you in a cocoon of despair and disbelief.

»--•--«

you found yourself nestled on a worn, velvet couch, the hum of the party swirling around you like a distant melody. beside you, ethan, your new boyfriend, sat with a casual ease, his presence a comforting anchor. your head rested gently on his shoulder, a silent testament to the budding intimacy between you.

it had only been a few weeks since you and ethan had started this journey together, a fleeting dance of connection in a world where your relationships seemed to dissolve like morning mist, rarely enduring beyond the span of a single month.

you have endeavored with all your might to banish thoughts of matt from your heart, yet every attempt seemed to crumble like a fragile castle of sand. each kiss you shared with others became a haunting echo, a stark reminder of how they could never measure up to the tender touch of matt's lips.

every embrace felt hollow, every laugh a mere shadow of the joy you once knew. the essence of matt lingered in every corner of your mind, an indelible mark that no one else could ever match or erase. the comparisons were relentless, and each one only deepened the abyss of longing within you.

your friends would often talk about how you and your new boyfriend epitomized the perfect couple. yet, beneath the surface, you discerned the hollow ring of their reassurances, recognizing them as mere platitudes designed to soothe and sustain you through the days.

their compliments, though kind, felt like fragile masks, concealing the deeper truths you harbored within. you knew that their praise, while comforting, was but a veneer, a gentle fiction crafted to help you navigate the complexities of your relationship.

but you felt a gnawing guilt as well. it was as if you were using him as a mere vessel to navigate the turbulent seas of your heart, a means to exorcise the lingering specter of matt. this wasn't entirely untrue, yet the weight of it pressed heavily upon your conscience, casting a shadow over the budding connection you were trying to forge.

ethan was perfect in every conceivable way. he was kind-hearted, intelligent, and brimming with dreams and ambitions that painted the future in vibrant hues. yet, a lingering thought persisted—matt possessed those very qualities too, didn't he? the comparison was inevitable, a silent whisper that refused to be silenced.

ethan was the epitome of the dream guy, the one who would listen patiently during arguments, even when the fault was entirely yours. he would lavish you with affection, consistently spoiling you and meticulously catering to your every whim and preference.

or perhaps that was the crux of it? perhaps you longed for the thrill, the unpredictable dance of on and off, the bewildering confusion, and the fiery conflict.

but your thoughts were abruptly severed when your head instinctively turned toward the door, your eyes catching a fleeting glimpse of the triplets as they made their entrance.

it had been quite some time, nearly a year, since you and matt had parted ways. despite the passage of months, you and nick remained in contact, your bond unwavering. however, matt's transformation was striking—so much so that you couldn't discern whether it was a change for the better or for the worse.

sure, he had altered his hairstyle and grown a beard, but the most significant change was the presence of the girl by his side.

you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. she bore an uncanny resemblance to you. a few subtle differences here and there, but everything about her mirrored you almost perfectly.

you glanced downward, a smirk playing on your lips, before lifting your gaze once more to scrutinize his girlfriend. your eyes then shifted to matt's, and as he caught your glance, your eyes widened slightly while his softened in response.

you hadn't laid eyes on him since that fateful day he severed ties, grabbing his jacket in a fit of rage and storming out of the room. since he unequivocally declared he was done, leaving no room for reconciliation, and essentially made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. 

he went so far as to erase your presence from his life entirely, blocking you on every conceivable platform—even the most unexpected ones like roblox and spotify.

you bit your tongue, averting your gaze as you reluctantly re-engaged with the ongoing conversation among your friends and boyfriend, your thoughts momentarily adrift in a sea of contemplation.

throughout the entire ordeal, you feigned laughter and plastered on smiles, desperately attempting to appear engaged. yet, the conversations with his friends paled in comparison to the rich and meaningful dialogues you shared with the triplets.

you felt a small frown tug at your lips as you absently toyed with the rings on your fingers, a profound sense of melancholy seeping into the very core of your being.

"i'm going to get a drink," you mutter, lifting your gaze to meet your boyfriend's eyes. your head remains nestled on his shoulder as he nods, a silent acknowledgment passing between you.

"want me to go with you?" he inquired, his gaze softening as it met yours. you shook your head gently, signaling your preference for solitude.

"i think i'll manage," you chuckle softly, a gentle warmth spreading through you as he smiles and plants a tender kiss on your forehead. with a sense of quiet resolve, you rise and make your way to the drink table.

you arrive at the drink table, grasping a cup with a steady hand before pouring a generous measure of alcohol into it. without hesitation, you down the drink, feeling the liquid fire spread through your senses, a fleeting escape from the melancholy that lingers.

you squeeze your eyes shut, the world momentarily fading to black, before pouring another measure of vodka into your cup. with a swift, determined motion, you down it once more, the liquid burning its way down. you slam the cup onto the table, your eyes squeezing shut again at the familiar, searing sensation that floods your senses.

"still got a taste for the hard stuff, i see," came a familiar voice. you opened your eyes to find matt standing there, a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and concern.

"yeah, well, some things never change," you replied, your voice wavering slightly as you tried to keep it steady, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air between you.

"who's the new guy?" he asked, nodding subtly towards the other side of the room where your boyfriend was engaged in animated conversation with some friends, his curiosity thinly veiled beneath a layer of casual interest.

"oh, that's ethan. we've been seeing each other for a while now," you replied, striving to keep your tone casual even as your heart raced. "and you? who's the chick?” you asked, casting a glance at the woman who seemed determined to capture matt's attention.

"that's alia," he replied, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "she's... nice." there was a pause, a moment where the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words, the weight of past emotions hanging heavily in the silence.

"nice, huh?" you said, raising an eyebrow with a hint of irony. "sounds absolutely thrilling."

matt chuckled, but it was a hollow sound, lacking genuine mirth. "yeah, well, you know how it is," he said, his voice dropping to a more somber tone. "sometimes you just need a distraction."

"yeah," you said softly, your gaze falling to the empty cup in your hands. "i know exactly what you mean." the tension hung in the air, thick and palpable, as the echoes of your past relationship reverberated in the silence between you.

the memories of late-night talks, shared secrets, and stolen kisses seemed to fill the space, making it hard to breathe. you could almost hear the laughter that once filled those moments, now replaced by the heavy silence of what was left unsaid. the weight of those recollections pressed down, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once consumed you both.

matt shifted slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "funny how life turns out, huh?" he murmured, almost to himself. "i thought we'd... well, never mind." his voice trailed off, laden with the weight of unspoken dreams and the remnants of a love that once burned fiercely.

you felt a pang in your chest, a mix of nostalgia and regret. "yeah, funny," you echoed, though the word tasted bitter on your tongue. the room seemed to shrink around you, the noise of the party fading into the background, leaving only the heavy silence of unresolved emotions.

for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped, leaving just the two of you in that charged silence. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of shared history pressed down upon you both. then, with a sigh, matt glanced away, breaking the spell that had momentarily suspended time.

you took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you like an unyielding burden. "matt, can we talk?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy with the gravity of everything left unsaid.

his eyes widened slightly, and he raised his eyebrows, a subtle gesture that conveyed a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "uh... yeah, sure," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and apprehension. "let's find a quieter spot," he added, gesturing towards a secluded corner, away from the cacophony of the gathering.

you both navigated through the crowd, weaving through the sea of faces until you found a secluded corner. the music and laughter gradually faded into the background, leaving just the two of you enveloped in a heavy, almost palpable silence.

"it's been almost a year," you began, your voice trembling slightly. your hands fidgeted nervously, and your gaze flickered between the floor and his eyes. "i thought time would help, but it hasn't. i can't seem to get over you."

matt sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration and resignation. "i know what you mean," he said, his voice tinged with a weary sadness. "i've tried moving on, but every person i meet is just a shadow, a reminder of what we had. even if what we had was toxic."

you nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat, your emotions threatening to spill over. "we were on and off so much, and it was exhausting," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "but i can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to make it work this time."

he looked into your eyes, searching for something elusive. "do you really think we can fix what was broken?" he asked, his voice heavy with doubt. "or are we just setting ourselves up for more pain?"

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "i don't know, matt," you began, your voice wavering. "but i do know that i've never felt this way about anyone else. it's like... we consume each other, and nothing else compares."

matt's gaze softened, and he gently took your hand in his. "maybe we owe it to ourselves to try again," he said, his voice filled with a cautious hope. "maybe this time, we can find a way to mend what was once broken and make it right."

you squeezed his hand, a flicker of hope igniting in your heart. "maybe we can," you murmured, the words carrying the weight of unspoken dreams and a longing for redemption.

matt hesitated, then spoke again, his voice softer and tinged with vulnerability. "i've missed you, y/n. more than i can put into words. every time i thought i was moving on, it felt like i was just running in circles."

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "i've missed you too, matt. and it's been so hard, trying to fill the void with other people. but nothing felt right."

he pulled you closer, his touch a delicate balance of tenderness and familiarity. "maybe we needed this time apart to realize just how much we mean to each other. maybe we can grow from our mistakes."

you leaned into his embrace, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence envelop you. "i want to try, matt. i want to see if we can build something better, something stronger."

matt held you tightly, his embrace firm yet reassuring. "then let's take it slow, one step at a time. let's learn from our past and create a future worth fighting for."

you nodded, a profound sense of peace washing over you as you gently cupped his face, your lips meeting his in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part ten

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, sad rafe, idk i might be forgetting something

author's note: this chapter is both long and not entirely proof read so bear with me lol. i also wrote this at like 4 am so please. anyways, i want to start making the chapters a bit longer for you guys since i've been away for so long. enjoy!

"Y/n, what's wrong? What's going on?" You could feel Rafe's tangible consternation right through the phone. Your chest felt like it was caving in, accompanied by the growing, nausea-inducing pit in your stomach formulated from your feelings of guilt. The way his typically baritone voice was strained and quiet, presumably from the unexpected "emergency"phone call you had presented him with.

"I-I got into a huge fight with JJ," you fibbed with the help of the crack in your voice and a sorrowing tone that could only make Rafe crumble right in your hands, "it's a long story, but I need to get out of here. I can't be in this place any longer, Rafe." You fraudulently sobbed.

"Okay, okay.. Just breathe, yeah? I can come and get you in a second I just really have to finish this thing with my dad fir-"

"Rafe, please. I need you now." You pleaded as though your life depended on it, which in a way, it did. You realized that had your attempt to lure Rafe into your arms failed, your friends would be in a heap of danger.

An audible sigh was heard from the other sign of the phone, along with muffled chatter that you assumed was Rafe and Ward talking. The conversation, or what you heard of it, sounded like back-and-forth bickering for the most part, which caused a wave of anxiety to wash over you as you began to pick at your nails. Seconds felt like hours as you waited to hear Rafe's voice again on the other side, but it sounded as though the conversation continued. You stayed on the other side of the line in complete silence, not wanting to interrupt the matter, but the longer it took your nerves ensued.

"I'm on my way." Rafe suddenly responded, taking you off guard after not hearing him address you within a period of time.

"Thank you." You whispered, a small smile of satisfaction present on your face at what you had managed to accomplish. Perhaps Rafe was more infatuated than you imagined, you thought.

*NEW MESSAGE FROM Y/N to KIARA CARRERA: done.*

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Time passed by quickly whilst you waited for Rafe's arrival. You paced the living room back and forth a few times, wondering how you were going to pull off such a stunt despite the pit in your stomach growing and your hands trembling with unease. Your mind became your worst enemy as you thought through everything that could go wrong as you anxiously waited for the time to come, replaying every bad scenario through your head over and over again - until you were practically sick.

Your pessimistic thoughts were cut to a halt by a loud knock at the door, one that sounded more like someone was pounding on the other side. The noise made your body jump as you immediately turned a heel towards the door. You approached hesitantly, trying to kill as much time as possible before you'd open the door, but as time progressed the knocking became quicker and louder thuds that raddled the chateau.

"Y/n. Are you hurt? Did he do something to you cause I'll kick that son of a bitch to a pul-"

"No, Rafe, I'm not hurt. Not physically, at least." You shook your head, forcing out your voice in the most pathetic tone you could possible mimic. Rafe frowned in response as he noticed the way your head hung low and eyes stayed glued to the ground.

"What did he say to you?" Rafe softly asked, approaching you with caution and ease as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing a familiar sense of butterflies to errupt and flutter around in your stomach.

"He just brought up a bunch of stuff about my family and called me a traitor for spending time with you. For being with you, basically." Your vision became blurry as tears clouded your view, unsure of how they got there, but you mentally applauded yourself for such a performance.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. C'mere." Rafe cooed sympathetically as he pulled you into his arms tightly, possibly the tightest embrace you've felt in your life, but in a sense it felt good to be held like that. Like nothing in the world could hurt you while you were wrapped up in Rafe Cameron's arms, as insane as it sounded to you.

Your body relaxed in his arms, eyes closing as you soaked up every bit of his warmth. You nearly hummed in such delight before stopping yourself, not wanting to feed into Rafe's ego more than you already were just by calling him over for help. But it did feel nice, a feeling that came as a shock to you.

"I wanna get out of here, Rafe. Please." You sniffled, looking up at the brooding figure with those sad puppy-dog eyes that could make any man melt in your hands.

"Of course. Do you want to come back to my place? You can spend the night with me if you don't feel like going home."

You shook your head, "I don't wanna go home, especially not like this. Are you sure it's okay if I stay with you tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah 'course it is. Besides, my dad probably wont be back tonight and Rose and Wheezie are with him so I'll need the company. I'd prefer yours over theirs anyways." Rafe flashed you a small smile, hoping to diminish the frown that clouded your features as he rubbed your forearms gently.

You trailed behind Rafe on the walk to the car, watching as he held the door open and gestured your inside. You gave him a weak simper and a head nod as a symbolism of your gratitude at his sentiment. You'd be a liar if you said it didn't make your heart flutter at how caring and gentle he was being towards you, but you cursed yourself for the fact that it was all because of a lie.

"Y/n?" Rafe asked, snapping you out of your trance while you gazed out of the window.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't upset with me for earlier, are you?" He inquired, biting the inside of his cheek.

"No, why would I be?" You tilted your head, brows furrowed as you made eye contact with the blue-eyed Kook.

"I don't know. I guess I just thought you seemed a little dry when I was dropping you off earlier, s'all." Rafe coughed out, noticing how he scratched the back of his head as he spoke feebly.

"Oh, I see." You blinked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way. I've just been a little tired I guess."

"No, don't apologize. It's okay." He turned his head, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to reassure you with a thin-lipped smile. You observed as he clutched the steering wheel, veins ostensibly poking through along his arms and hands in a way that made your thighs clench together tightly. You gulped silently in an attempt to restrain yourself and regain composure - this was Rafe Cameron you were talking about. Yet on the other hand, despite his vainglorious ways and haughty sense-of-self, inhis eyes, a flicker of mischief dances amidst shadows, a daring tale waiting to unfold. He was the embodiment of defiance, a canvas of contradictions where danger and allure converge in captivating disarray. You found yourself ensnared by the gravity of his presence, a force that pulled your world into his magnetic orbit. You could keep reminding yourself to run away from him, but where would you go to hide? He was everywhere, from the depths of your mind, to every turning corner of Figure 8.

You made it back to the Cameron's residence before you knew it, perhaps too caught up in the thought of Rafe to realize what was happening around you. However, once the car came to a halt and your surroundings stopped moving, reality soon greeted you once again.

You hopped out of the car, following behind Rafe like a lost puppy who didn't know where it was. You felt out of place, and a bit on edge. You wondered if your friends were okay, praying that your decoy tactics were doing them good. The other half of your nerves came from the fact that you were doing something that went against your moral code, and challenged your ability to lie to the face of someone you.. Care about?

"Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea, a soda?" Rafe asked, making his way to the kitchen with you in close pursuit.

"I'm good." You passed off his offer with a half-hearted laugh and a weak smile. As you watched him, the ambient light of the fridge casted a soft glow on his silhouette. His movements were casual, effortless, as he navigated the contents in search of a drink. The way he tilted his head slightly, the lines of his profile against the cool light—it’s a fleeting portrait etched into your memory. You found yourself caught in the simplicity of the moment, the way his fingers grazed the chilled bottles, his easy familiarity with the space. There was something mesmerizing about the way he handled the mundane, turning the ordinary into a scene worth cherishing. It was as though time slowed, encapsulating this small interaction, making it feel like an eternity. A smile tugged at your lips as you observed, captivated by his presence. The faint hum of the fridge was a backdrop to the symphony of your thoughts, all centered around this magnetic figure before you. In that unguarded moment, as he stood there unaware, he became the focal point of your world, drawing you deeper into the allure of his ordinary yet enchanting actions.

"Didn't realize I had an audience," he chuckled, catching you watching him with an amused glint in his eye. There was a playful energy in his tone, a sense that he knew he had inadvertently drawn your attention.

Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he exuded a relaxed confidence. "If watching me rummage through the fridge becomes a regular show, I might have to start selling tickets," he teased, trying to lighten the moment but also displaying a subtle curiosity about what had captured your interest. His ego slowly peaking through, as usual.

"Oh, absolutely riveting," you retorted, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words as you met his amused gaze. "Your fridge exploration was the highlight of my day, truly." Your lips curved into a wry smile, eyes dancing with playful mockery.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes softening as he met your gaze. "You know, watching you watch me... it's kind of different," he began, his voice a touch softer, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usual ease.

"I mean, it's not every day someone looks at me like... well, like that," he admitted, the words stumbling out with a hint of uncertainty. His gaze briefly faltered, a struggle evident within him as if battling between speaking his mind and holding back.

But before he could continue, he stopped himself abruptly, a shadow of hesitation crossing his features. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make things weird. Forget I said anything," he deflected, a faint tinge of regret coloring his words as he tried to backtrack, a sudden unease settling over him.

As he hesitated, you caught the shift in his demeanor, a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath his usual confidence. "No, don't," you interjected softly, reaching out to gently touch his hand, your eyes imploring him to continue. "Please, whatever you were going to say... I want to hear it."

In that suspended moment of vulnerability, he gathered the courage to speak what had been on his mind for far too long. "I... I've always felt something different around you," he confessed, his voice softer than a whisper, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.

"It's not just the way you look at me, but... how you make me feel," he continued, his gaze locking with yours, each word chosen with care, as if he was navigating uncharted territory. "There's this warmth, this comfort that settles in whenever you're near." He paused, the air thick with anticipation, his heart pounding against the cage of his chest. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of what he felt, a mixture of fear and longing flickering in his eyes.

But as the moment hung between them, poised on the edge of revelation, he stopped himself once more, the weight of his unspoken feelings heavy upon him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he murmured, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features as he withdrew, fearing he might have crossed a line.

You were stunned, his words piercing through the air, carrying a weight you hadn't expected. Your heart fluttered in response, a mix of surprise and a tinge of something deeper stirring within you.

"I never realized," you breathed out, your voice trembling slightly, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside. His confession had caught you off guard, unraveling a part of your own feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"There's always been this... something," you confessed, your words coming out in a rush, a newfound realization taking hold. "A connection, a pull towards you that I couldn't quite define."

Yet, before you could explore this uncharted territory further, you sensed his hesitation, his retreat from the vulnerable moment you had both stepped into. The abruptness left you reeling, an unspoken ache lingering in the charged air between you.

"I didn't mean to make it awkward," you murmured, regret coloring your tone as you witnessed his uncertainty. The unspoken sentiments hung heavy, a silent conversation begging to be continued, the depth of emotions left unexplored.

In the hush of that moment, you found yourselves locked in a silent exchange. His gaze, an ocean of depths, met yours with an unwavering intensity, drawing you in like a force. You perched on the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface beneath you, as he closed the distance, a dance of proximity that felt almost orchestrated by fate.

Closer, step by deliberate step, until the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Rafe's presence enveloped you, a shield from the outside world, as if the space around you had collapsed into a world of its own. You felt his warmth seep through the inches that separated you, a silent harmony of shared breaths.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stand still. Your breaths mingled, creating a delicate rhythm of anticipation. His hand moved with a tenderness that spoke volumes, gently enclosing you within the confines of that intimate space.

And as his closeness eclipsed the distance between you, your eyes locked in a silent conversation, saying things that mere words couldn't articulate. The world outside faded into insignificance as the universe shrank to just the two of you, suspended in a timeless embrace of unspoken longing.

Your breath hitched, Rafe's minty-breath fanning over your skin as his lips lingered a few inches from your face. You felt a flutter in your chest as his eyes bore into yours, each glance a revelation, unraveling layers of unspoken emotions. In the depth of his stare, you sensed a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own.

Before you had time to think, his lips connected with yours, passionately but with a delicacy that made it seem like if he pushed too far, you would break. You took in his affection, pulling him in by the back of his neck as he hungrily devoured the cherry lip balm off of your glossy lips. Rafe kept the pace slow, but his movements were eager and greedy for more of you. His large hands trailing up your open thighs, stopping at your hips as he gripped them and squeezed at them lightly.

You moaned into his mouth as you longed for more of him, a testimate you figured you'd regret doing later, but in that moment, you needed him, and he knew it.

Rafe responded with a smirk against your lips, letting out a deep, low chuckle from the bottom of his throat that sent tingles down your spine. You arched your body towards his, caving into his touch and practically begging for more. You weren't exactly sure why you were so taken over by such feeling of lust, but you wouldn't dare brush it off.

"God, I love you." Rafe groaned, murmuring his words against your neck yet they came out plain as day. Your eyes, previously shut as you took in the bliss of what you were experiencing, now shot wide open and you stared ahead.

"You.. What?" You stammered on your words as your throat seemingly went dry.

In the wake of his sudden admission, you were left speechless, the air heavy with the unexpected weight of his confession. His words lingered in the space between you, a revelation that seemed to have shifted the very ground beneath your feet.

You looked at him, shock etched in your features, mirrored in the stunned expression on his face. In that suspended moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you, a shared astonishment at the sudden revelation.

Time seemed to halt, the air thick with a mix of emotions, leaving you both stranded in an uncomfortable silence. His confession hung in the air, and you found yourself grappling with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

The shock of his abrupt admission left you reeling, unsure of how to respond, as if the ground beneath your feet had shifted. The air crackled with a charged tension, a profound moment that had unexpectedly unfolded between you, leaving you both standing at the precipice of an uncertain new chapter.

"Y/n-I... It was the heat of the moment." He was lying right through his teeth.

"Rafe you don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'." You stated, face still covered in shock.

"I know, I know," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and sincerity, attempting to backpedal. "But sometimes... things just spill out, you know?"

You looked at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and uncertainty, the shock still painted across your features. "You don't say those things because of 'the heat of the moment'," you stated firmly, your voice carrying a weight of conviction.

He met your gaze, his eyes searching for a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. "I guess... I might have gotten carried away," he admitted, a hint of remorse coloring his words. "But that doesn't mean I don't mean it, Y/n."

His attempt to retract his words faltered in the face of your unwavering response, leaving an uncomfortable tension hanging between you, the unspoken truth lingering in the air, too palpable to be ignored.

"I messed up, saying it like that," Rafe sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone as he struggled to express himself. "But the truth is, I've been feeling this way for a while now."

You watched him, the shock slowly morphing into a mix of confusion and a glimmer of curiosity. "Rafe, why now? Why like this?" you questioned, seeking clarity in the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed both of you.

He hesitated, searching for the right words, a turbulent storm brewing in his thoughts. "I didn't plan it, it just happened," he confessed, a sense of urgency in his voice. "But... being around you, it's like discovering something I didn't know I needed. And I don't want to pretend otherwise."

The vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and a hint of desperation to convey what he truly felt. The intensity of the moment lingered, a raw and unfiltered exchange leaving you both exposed, suspended in a realm of unresolved emotions.

The sudden confession left you reeling, a storm of conflicting thoughts raging within. His words echoed in your mind, but beneath the shock, a sense of unease crept in. You couldn't ignore the inconvenient truth—you had approached him under false pretenses, a lie woven into the fabric of your interactions.

As his feelings spilled out, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the right time. Guilt tugged at your conscience, reminding you that your connection with him was built on a shaky foundation. How could you entertain the possibility of reciprocating his feelings when the truth had been veiled behind a facade?

His sincerity clashed with the dishonesty looming over your encounters. The weight of regret settled heavy on your shoulders, wishing for an alternate reality where honesty could pave the way for genuine emotions to blossom.

Amidst the tumult of emotions, you grappled with the turmoil of regret, longing for a different circumstance where the truth could guide the course of your connection with him.

"Rafe.. you don't know what you're saying." You shook your head, voice quiet as your head hung low while guilt proceeded you.

"But I know how I feel, Y/n."

He watched you, a sense of helplessness clouding his features as he realized the weight of his confession. "I get it if this is too much, too soon," he murmured, a mix of sincerity and a hint of pleading in his voice. "I just needed you to know."

There was a pang of regret in his chest, knowing that his impulsive admission might have pushed things too far, too quickly. He hoped for understanding, for a chance to rectify the situation, but the gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncertain tension between you both.

"Rafe, please.. Don't do this." You continued shaking your head at him, your body deterring his words away from you.

Rafe’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and a longing to make things right. "I didn't mean to make things complicated," he said, his voice laced with regret as he recognized the distress in your plea.

"I'll back off, I promise," he assured, a sense of resignation coloring his words. "I'll give you space, whatever you need."

He took a step back, giving you a gentle nod as if to affirm his commitment to respecting your wishes. Though the weight of his unspoken feelings lingered, he understood the importance of honoring your request, his regret palpable in the ache of the unspoken words he left hanging in the air.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rafe. I just - I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

Rafe's features softened once more, a glint of understanding in his eyes as he absorbed your words. "I hear you," he replied softly, a tinge of regret lacing his voice. "Maybe I jumped the gun."

He took a step closer, a reassuring gesture without encroaching on your space. "I get it, Y/n. I don't want to complicate things for you," he acknowledged, a sense of empathy coloring his words. "I'll... figure it out."

There was a lingering sadness in his eyes, a realization that the depth of his feelings might have inadvertently disrupted the delicate balance. He offered a faint, understanding smile, silently conveying his acceptance of your decision while grappling with the weight of unspoken sentiments swirling within him.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, the turmoil of emotions swirling within you as you watched Rafe navigate the complexities of the moment. There was a pang of empathy mixed with a tinge of regret, knowing that his heartfelt confession had collided with a reality too intricate to unravel.

His genuine vulnerability struck a chord within you, the sincerity in his eyes a poignant reminder of the depth of his feelings. Despite the complexities, there was an undeniable longing in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding.

Yet, amidst the ache, you held firm, knowing that conceding to the whirlwind of emotions might only deepen the intricate web you both found yourselves entangled in. The ache in your chest was a silent testament to the conflicting desires to both embrace and pull away from the vulnerability that lay bare between you.

With a gentle resolve in your voice, you offered a solution to diffuse the tension hanging in the air. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll sleep in the guest room if you'd like for me to," you softly stated, your gaze fixed on Rafe, awaiting his response.

Rafe met your gaze, a mix of gratitude and regret flickering in his eyes. "I appreciate that," he replied quietly, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But you don't have to do that. You can take my room; I'll take the guest."

There was a sense of mutual understanding in his response, a tacit acknowledgment of the unspoken boundaries between you. As you turned to leave, a bittersweet atmosphere lingered, the weight of unresolved emotions hanging in the air, leaving both of you to navigate the uncharted territories of unspoken sentiments.

Your heart urged you to offer more, to say something that could alleviate the heaviness in the room, yet words eluded you. You wished to ease the ache in Rafe's eyes, to erase the tension that had woven its way between you both.

But the weight of the moment held you captive, words caught in the tangled threads of conflicting emotions. You longed to express understanding, to mend the rift caused by the unexpected turn of events, but the complexity of the situation left you grappling with the silence.

With a heavy sigh and a lingering gaze, you retreated, knowing that sometimes the silence spoke louder than any words you could muster, and hoping that time might offer a balm to heal the unspoken wounds that lingered between you and Rafe.

As you made your way to Rafe's room, guilt weighed heavy on your shoulders, each step a reminder of the tangled web of emotions you found yourself entwined in. The faint echo of your own footsteps seemed to resonate with the uncertainty that clouded your mind.

Slipping under the covers, the warmth of the room offered little comfort against the turmoil within. You couldn't shake off the guilt, a relentless companion that followed you into the darkness. The sheets felt colder than usual, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

Lying there, your thoughts tangled in a maze of regret, you replayed the events of the evening, questioning the choices that led to this poignant moment. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Sleep remained elusive, your mind restless, grappling with the repercussions of your actions. The guilt lingered as a constant reminder of the complexities that now defined the fragile dynamics between you and Rafe.

As the night ebbed away, the soft hues of dawn painted the sky, signaling the arrival of a new day. You descended the stairs, a faint unease lingering from the events of the previous evening, unsure of what the morning would bring.

At the foot of the staircase, you were met with Rafe, his presence an unexpected yet anticipated encounter. There was an awkward tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unresolved emotions that hung between you both.

"Morning," Rafe greeted, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, the weight of the unspoken words from the night before lingering in the air.

"Morning," you replied softly, the air heavy with an unspoken understanding, a palpable sense of discomfort threading through the atmosphere.

There was an unspoken agreement to navigate the morning with cautious steps, each movement tinged with the residue of the unresolved emotions that lingered between you. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, leaving both of you searching for a semblance of normalcy in the midst of the palpable awkwardness.

"I'm gonna head back to the chateau in a few, JJ said he wants to talk to me," you mentioned, trying to break the palpable tension hanging in the air.

Rafe's laughter was dry, a strained sound that echoed in the room, a stark contrast to the ease that once defined your interactions. "Seems like he's got a lot to talk about these days," he remarked, a hint of bitterness seeping into his words.

You sensed the unease in his tone, a reflection of the awkwardness that enveloped the space between you. The weight of the unresolved emotions lingered, casting a shadow over the interaction, leaving the air heavy with unspoken sentiments.

The apology hung in the air, a quiet admission laden with the weight of remorse. "Rafe... I'm sorry, okay?" you uttered softly, the words an attempt to ease the strain that enveloped the space between you.

"Sure," Rafe replied, his tone notably drier, a touch of guardedness in his response. The weight of the situation lingered in the air, his words carrying a subtle hint of distance as he navigated the delicate balance between acceptance and reservation.

The conversation seemed to falter, leaving an uncomfortable silence that underscored the unspoken tension. Despite the attempt at reconciliation, there was a palpable hesitance in his demeanor, a reluctance to fully embrace the offered apology, adding another layer of complexity to the already strained atmosphere.

"I didn't say it because I don't care about you, Rafe," you asserted, hoping to clarify the sincerity behind your actions.

Rafe's response was more confrontational, his confusion apparent in his tone. "Then why?" he questioned, a hint of frustration seeping into his words. "It's just... it feels like nothing's adding up."

There was an edge to his demeanor, a palpable frustration stemming from the unresolved tension between you. The attempt at explanation seemed to only complicate matters further, leaving both of you grappling with the tangled web of emotions that refused to find resolution.

"Because I don't want you to get hurt," you explained, your voice soft yet firm, hoping to convey the underlying concern that had guided your actions.

Rafe's demeanor softened slightly, a flicker of surprise mingled with a trace of understanding in his expression. "Hurt?" he echoed, a hint of confusion still present but tempered by the sincerity in your words.

"Yeah," you continued, trying to articulate the protective instinct that fueled your choices. "Things are... complicated, and I didn't want to add to that."

There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, an attempt to bridge the gap with honesty and concern, hoping to offer a glimpse into the complexities that had led to your decisions. The air, though still charged with tension, held a trace of empathy as you navigated the fragile balance between candor and reservation.

"Do you think I care if things are a little complicated, Y/n? My whole life has been complicated," Rafe responded, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and a hint of frustration, a glimpse into the complexities he had grown accustomed to.

His words held a weight, a testament to the tumultuous experiences that had shaped his life. Despite the tension, there was a raw honesty in his admission, revealing the layers of complexities that had become intrinsic to his existence.

"Yeah, but it's me, Rafe. I'm a Pogue from the Cut, do you really want that? Your family probably has this whole plan set out for you to end up with a Kook, anyways," you expressed, a tinge of vulnerability woven into your words. "This, I, am way too complicated for your lifestyle. That's more weight than you could bear."

Your words carried the weight of societal expectations and the stark contrast between your worlds. The lines drawn by society's standards seemed insurmountable, adding layers of complexity to an already intricate situation. You highlighted the disparity between your backgrounds, emphasizing the potential burden it might pose for Rafe, intertwining concern for his well-being with an understanding of the societal barriers dividing you.

"I don't care, Y/n. I don't care what they have to say because I care about you. Why can't you just accept that?" Rafe's voice carried a raw honesty, his words cutting through the barriers of societal expectations.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unwavering declaration. "Because it's not that simple, Rafe," you replied softly, your voice laced with a mix of emotions. "There's so much more at stake than just us. Just trust me on this. Please."

"Y/n, please just listen to me. It doesn't have to be this way. We can make it work, whatever I have to do, I'll do it," Rafe pleaded, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency and determination.

You met his earnest gaze, torn between the desire to believe in his words and the weight of the obstacles you both faced. "Rafe, it's not that simple," you murmured, the turmoil evident in your tone. "There are things beyond our control, things that won't just change because we want them to."

The ache in your chest mirrored the conflict in your mind, the yearning to embrace his offer battling against the harsh realities that seemed to impose barriers between you.

The scene unfolded before you, and you witnessed the subtle tremble in Rafe's lip, a poignant display of the emotions he struggled to contain. Sorrow etched into the depths of his eyes, a vulnerable expression that laid bare the depth of his feelings.

Your heart wrenched at the sight, a surge of empathy flooding through you as you recognized the pain reflected in his gaze. The weight of the situation bore heavily on him, and the turmoil within him was palpable, painting a picture of raw vulnerability and unspoken longing.

Despite the complexities that stood between you both, the silent plea in his eyes tugged at your own emotions, evoking a whirlwind of conflicting sentiments that left you grappling with the ache of shared sorrow and the unyielding barriers that seemed to divide you.

"I need you, Y/n," Rafe's voice was tinged with desperation, a raw plea that echoed in the room, laying bare the depth of his emotions.

"I've got to go, Rafe," you whispered, your voice laden with sorrow, each word a painful admission of the necessity to part ways despite the shared longing.

Walking out of Rafe's house, tears blurred your vision, emotions swirling within as you grappled with the weight of the encounter. As you stepped outside, your friend Kiara awaited in the car, a knowing look in her eyes that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged.

Kiara observed your tear-stained cheeks and pained expression, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding. Without needing to speak, she unlocked the car doors, a silent invitation for you to seek solace in the comfort of her presence.

With a heavy heart, you slid into the passenger seat beside Kiara, the warmth of her presence offering a sense of solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions. The unspoken understanding between friends enveloped the space, allowing for a moment of silent companionship amid the storm of feelings that surged within.

"I did what you guys asked me," you stated flatly, the weight of your actions hanging heavily in the air, your voice tinged with resignation.

Kiara glanced at you, her expression a mix of concern and apprehension, recognizing the strain in your voice. "Are you okay?" she inquired softly, her tone laced with a gentle concern, understanding the difficulty of the task you'd undertaken for the sake of your friends.

You remained silent for a moment, the weight of the recent events settling heavily on your shoulders. "I will be," you finally replied, the words carrying a hint of uncertainty, as if unsure of the aftermath of your actions and the impact they might have on the intricate balance of your relationships.

The journey to the chateau was enveloped in silence, a heavy curtain of unspoken thoughts that draped the car's interior. Each passing moment seemed to stretch in the weight of the quiet, the air thick with unexpressed emotions that lingered between you and Kiara.

You fought to hold back the tears, a silent war raging within, the ache in your chest a testament to the depth of the emotions that surged beneath the surface. The weight of recent events bore heavily on you, and the silent car ride provided a fleeting refuge where tears threatened to breach the dam of your composure.

Despite your efforts, a lone tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek, a silent testament to the emotional storm that raged within. You discreetly wiped it away, hoping to shield your vulnerability, the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears weaving an intricate tapestry of inner turmoil.

The car rolled to a halt near the chateau's entrance, the engine's hum fading into the quiet ambiance of the estate. Kiara cast a glance your way, a wordless assurance conveyed through her eyes, a silent understanding that transcended the unspoken.

As you stepped out, the familiar sight of the chateau greeted you, its grandeur contrasting sharply with the weight of emotions carried within. The walk to the entrance felt longer than usual, each step echoing the turmoil within, the unspoken conversation hanging heavily between you and Kiara.

Approaching the door, the details of the chateau seemed to blur, your focus consumed by the emotional tempest raging within. With a deep breath, you turned the doorknob, the heavy wooden door creaking softly as it opened to welcome you inside.

Stepping into the foyer, the chateau enveloped you, the coolness of the air offering a stark contrast to the warmth of the emotional turmoil within.

As your friends turned to greet you, their expectant smiles faltered into a puzzled expression as they registered the turmoil etched on your face. Their eyes mirrored a blend of confusion and concern, a stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere that typically enveloped their gatherings.

A fleeting moment passed, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken as your friends exchanged glances, a silent communication that conveyed their awareness of the unspoken turmoil lingering beneath the surface. The chapter's end was marked by the unspoken tension, leaving an uncertain ambiance that hung between you, hinting at the complexities awaiting their reckoning.

taglist:  @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrapap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols

[justporo]

Laid Out Traps

Astarion has many masterful ways with which he keeps seducing you - traps laid out masterfully for you to fall into. And you are eager to let yourself get dragged under. But this time you're pulling him down with you.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Well actually I wanted to write something else today, but here we are. Thoughts about how Astarion would continuously work on seducing you, making sure he's always on your mind didn't leave my mind. So enjoy some... not quite smut, but something sensual? Anyways, here goes.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: light smut, lots of tension, blood Wordcount: 3,1k ~~~

You were walking through some forestry bits during another day of crossing this godsdamned Mountain Pass. It had barely been half a day but you were already exhausted. The journey just didn't seem to ever get any easier. Hopefully there would a break soon and you'd find some peace to calm your body and sort out your mind a little. Your thoughts had been running rampant for a while now and you were thankful for a moment away from the others when you could just let go a little.

Astarion - and therefore the reason why your mind was so scrambled - walked behind you. And he was also part of the reason why you felt so exhausted. Not only because the two of you had made it a frequent habit now to steal away when the others had gone to rest. But also because no matter how often you had found your way into the vampire’s arms, your thoughts never seemed to stray far from the pale elf. The hunger and need for the other never really sated.

It very much wasn't the kind of thing where the anticipation and the buildup had held all the magic. It hadn’t been merely a fling where the urge was overcome and then matters were dealt with for good.

No, much rather the more often you sought his embrace the more tightly wrapped his hold on your mind was. And you were beginning to feel that it might not even stop with his claim over your body and mind. At some point you would have confess to yourself that the sassy vampire, whose eyes sometimes were universes away with sorrow, had firmly snuck his way into your heart.

And Astarion took every opportunity to seduce you, to lure you in. Wrapping his strings tighter around you.

You were well aware of it.

He'd laid himself out as bait from the very beginning. You had known. At least you had very quickly been sure that he wasn't just after a body to lose himself in. Therefore, his ways were way too elaborate.

And also there were those moments when you were with him when it seemed he wanted to be anywhere but. But his focus always snapped back. Especially when you were trying to address these moments of absence.

Then he'd usually double his efforts, desperately trying to make you forget whatever thoughts had just sprung to your mind.

And unfortunately, he was masterful at that.

A master at deceiving you, luring you in and then keeping you trapped, being an addiction. It would probably not end well for you. Most vices didn't.

But you just couldn't stay away - neither from the way he held you but also from just… him.

A break was announced at some ruins you'd come across. Everyone seemed relieved. You set down your backpack and stretched when you felt a light touch at your back.

You turned to see Astarion who was lightly touching your shoulder. He gave you a knowing smile while his hand was quickly wandering down your arm with his fingertips finding some bare skin as quickly as possible at your wrist. The vampire's red eyes with a barely noticeable lifted eyebrow were an open question - or a promise rather.

His fingers in the meantime had moved to ever so lightly loop around your wrist. Not holding your hand of course, but it felt pretty intimate nonetheless. His lips were slightly parted, the tip of his tongue running over them absent-mindedly.

Your eyes immediately darted to them, then back to his gaze. Astarion's eyes were sparkling now in the midday sunlight and his mouth grew into his signature smirk.

This was exactly how he did it, how he caught you time and again: he made a game out of it, an adventure. Touching you when the others weren’t paying attention, letting his hand linger just long enough for you to feel a little heated, saying something playful that completely caught you off guard, sharing a stolen glance which always was a promise for more, for later.

Once he’d left you a little note in his narrow elegant handwriting with a line of poetry the two of you had once talked about. You still had it neatly tucked away under your armour - close to your heart. Sometimes you took it out to just look at it. Asking yourself how it could be if he always left you notes like that. You were hopelessly lost.

He had a thousand little ways of keeping you on your toes - or on your knees, much more -  and you were so prone to comply.

You were enjoying it, the way he turned it into this back and forth as if you were forbidden lovers: trying to hide away your attraction while finding as many moments to get lost in each other. It made it all the more titillating and intense.

You were absolutely sure the others knew anyway even if it was merely talked about in innuendos. But this didn’t stop Astarion from playing his little games with you. And you really didn’t want him to stop.

And so you also followed your lover this time, coyly throwing a glance over your shoulder to check if one of the other’s might be noticing. Then you let yourself be led around the ruins until you were around a corner of a former building. There was nothing much there but some underbrush and smaller blocks of former buildings.

Astarion had let his hand wander further until it had covered yours completely. And immediately when you had rounded the corner the vampire lifted your hand while he turned to you and with a few rash steps made you walk back until he had you up against the remainder of the wall.

He pressed your joint hands up against the stones next to your head while a predatory but auspicious grin had crept onto Astarion’s face. The vampire lowered his head as his gaze darkened and he took you in - lips, eyes, the hammering pulse at your throat.

His hips were pressing into yours, immobilising you against the stone wall, and the fingers of your joint hands were now laced - his thumb softly caressing yours lovingly despite the pressure he applied to trap you there with him.

The moment he’d pushed you against the wall, your former storming thoughts had been silenced and almost disappeared completely. Now you could only focus on the sensation of his closeness. Your lips were parted in anticipation already, your heart racing, a pleasant kind of tension was forming in your lower stomach.

You too took him in for a long moment, trying to burn this into your mind: the way he looked at you with his unique red eyes - almost from under his eyebrows -, soft lips curled into a cocky smile, the tips of his fangs noticeable, some of his silky white curls falling in his face, the curve of his high cheekbones that became even more noticeable when he slightly turned his head.

Astarion lifted his other hand to your face. He cupped your cheek for a moment, then let the back of his hand lightly stroke down your face. The gesture almost seemed too innocent in contrast to him having you pinned against a wall. Your eyes just widened more at him.

Then finally, his long fingers settled under your chin, his thumb placed on your chin, forcing you softly to tilt your head back while he moved in closer still.

“Shouldn’t you be careful who you follow into the woods?”, he whispered teasingly in a low voice.

His thumb was on your bottom lip of your already open mouth now, stroking over it as you let out a gasp. He was so incredibly close now too. Your hot breath must have moved over his cool skin. There were no thoughts in your head, only the feeling of the vampire being so impossibly and deliciously near - if only he moved like an inch or two closer.

“I wouldn’t want you to get trapped”, Astarion whispered again, drawing out the last word. His thumb tugged your bottom lip down now with quite some pressure before he let it slip back. Another gasp - almost a moan - left your throat.

“Maybe I am already trapped”, you managed to whisper in response. You earned a low chuckle and saw how the vampire’s eyes lit up and his grin grew broader - pronounced canines now fully on display. Your throat was dry, all of your hairs felt like they were standing on end in anticipation and your heart felt like it might give out any second. He slowly closed in on you, pupils dilating even more the closer he came - a hunter closing in on his prey.

And then he finally bridged the remaining gap, pressing his open lips to yours.

You immediately rewarded him with a deep moan. Your free hand was desperately trying to find hold on his armour to pull him even closer while your other was still firmly held in place.

Astarion’s tongue almost immediately slipped into your mouth, searching for dominance you willingly gave him when you welcomed his eager open mouthed kiss.

It wasn’t tender this. It was a powerplay - but it was full of burning hot passion. Fires were set ablaze in your lower body and the earlier tension was now making your whole body hum, sing for being graced with his attention.

The vampire moved so one of his legs pressed firmly between yours, almost forcing you up onto your tiptoes. Being even more immobilised, you were held at his mercy: indeed stuck in his trap - and you liked the place you were in.

The kiss was all tongues and teeth. Heads moving around while your mouths never left each other. Breathy groans and gasps were exchanged while his hand at your chin moved to your throat, fingertips pressing lightly onto your thrumming pulse before they wandered up again to outline your jaw, slightly applying pressure. With that he made your head tilt back even further.

Astarion eagerly claimed your mouth as his while pressing his body against you and you against the stone wall that pleasantly twinged at your back. If he wanted you right here and now there wouldn’t be a moment of hesitation. The water wasn’t even up to your neck anymore, you had well gone under and were happy to let go completely.

But after long moments Astarion withdrew from you. Instantly, you almost slumped down against the wall. Partly because of Astarion not holding you up anymore but mostly because he’d devoured almost everything of you with just a kiss. Knees were wobbly as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes fell on Astarion who had taken a few steps back and was looking at you. His crimson eyes were wide with arousal, his breath a little ragged too. But he was still very much in control - the chase was only paused, not ended.

“Tonight then?”, he simply asked with an eyebrow jumping up.

This godsdamned bastard - turning you almost into a puddle with some kissing and now this audacity. He’d returned to his familiar stance, not one fucking hair out of place, breath already returning to normal. As much as you enjoyed this all, this game, the teasing, the nightly rewards. The asymmetry was all of a sudden making you mad.

Astarion cocked his head and blinked at you several times, with a sassy expression on his face still awaiting your response. He knew exactly what he’d done to you - smug arsehole.

A thought formed in your mind. You immediately jumped to the execution before you could second guess yourself.

You cocked your head just as he was still doing. Then you started to saunter over to him. Your gaze was locked onto his as you tried to not let your intention show on your face.

For once, just once, did you want to be the one leaving him flustered and in desperate need for more.

Astarion’s smug facial expression shook slightly the closer you came. For a moment you thought you even saw a slither of fear and worry run over his face. But this surely must’ve been an illusion, right?

His eyes became wide and round. Probably unbeknownst to him, but yet another thing that made you fall for his trap harder. Whenever the vulnerable person beneath all the sultry jokes and the perfect mask showed you wanted nothing more but to keep him safe.

But this wasn’t your focus now.

You shortly stopped before him, staring into his open eyes. Then you stepped closer even until you were almost touching him and you could take in his smell again. He gasped silently, all while his gaze never left yours.

And then your hands shot up, grabbing his face, pulling him to you once more in a kiss. You made him do the same thing he’d done with you: with your body pushing him back step by step. Then when Astarion’s boot heel hit a low stone of the ruins, you gave him a little push, so he landed with his butt on the stone.

You immediately followed, pressing your legs to his shins and knees so he wouldn’t have a way to get up - trapping him.

Heat was coursing through your body as you looked down on him now.

Astarion was breathing heavily now through his open mouth. He held your gaze - his expression surprised but not scared. If anything it was dominated by hunger now, demanding to be fed.

And so you did: sitting down on his lap, straddling him with both your thighs firmly pressing around his hips, ripping a low groan from him. Immediately you ground against him, already feeling his hardening arousal.

You grabbed his face with both hands and without hesitation pressed your mouth to his once more. This time you were in charge, your tongue playing with his and exploring his mouth.

Meanwhile Astarion’s hands both moved to cup your behind, squeezing your butt with splayed fingers, earning him your moan.

One of your hands went to the back of Astarion’s head, gripping some of his curls so you could pull back his head some more and shift your weight on his lap. You were leading this, you had him pinned - and you were keen to draw out the moment.

Your other hand caressed his face, fingers spreading, then wandering over one of his pointy ears, softly tugging, caressing and teasing - rewarding you with what could only be called a pleading whimper.

You rolled your hips again while your lips were still eagerly moving on his, not letting up, not giving Astarion a moment where he might take charge again.

Again, you were ready to just go all the way. Strip down bare here and now and just give into the carnal need that threatened to consume you both - but where would be the fun in that? And also you had been taught by a master.

Your last coup was to drag your tongue slowly along Astarion’s teeth. Feeling the sting of the vampire’s sharp fang as you drew your tongue along it.

A coppery taste flooded you for a moment; you’d drawn blood. Good, just as you had intended.

Of course Astarion had also immediately tasted your blood. His grip on you immediately intensified. A low growl rumbled in his chest when your taste hit him.

Your eyes that had been closed for the passionate kiss, flew open when you heard the vampire’s sharp intake of breath. His eyes were open too now and you saw how the black of pupils almost drowned out the red of his irises.

You gasped as you were eye to eye with the predator. Shortly asking yourself if it had been a good idea to wander willingly into his arms - his trap, as he had said before - and offer yourself up so eagerly.

Because this was also when the tides turned again.

One of Astarion’s arms looped around you while his other hand went up to grab your face. He pulled you even closer as he shifted his weight. Your hands slipped from their grip in his curls and went to simply cup his face as the vampire leaned you back.

He held your face in his firm grip as he groaned and deepened the kiss even more, eagerly trying to taste you fully. His tongue ran over yours as he was claiming your mouth once more.

He was leaning forward so much now as he eagerly sucked up every last delicious drop of you that you were arching your back, leaning back into nothing but thin air on his lap. Held in place only by his arm firmly looped around your waist and his hand pressing your face to his.

But soon every last drop of you for that moment had been abundantly tasted and devoured. One carnal desire - if not filled - at least postponed to a later time. Leaving one other still.

The kiss had slowed a bit again. But you still felt Astarion’s and your own arousal pretty evidently. The one tasted pleasure had fueled the other. But you had always only planned to tease him. To give the vampire a taste of his own medicine.

You arched your back once more to press your body against his harder one last time. Meanwhile you dragged his bottom lip between your lips just for a short moment, making the vampire groan and squeeze you against him harder, one of his hands on your butt again.

But then - at the height of your eager teasing - you withdrew. Startling Astarion so much with how you just swiftly got up from his lap that he simply let you go.

His eyes were still wide and he was obviously still feeling the rush of tasting your blood and from the kiss. His chest was lifting time and again as he was obviously desperate to regain composure. Besides surprise, admiration snuck into his gaze and into the smile he offered you now while he leisurely leaned one of his arms on his knees. His white curls were now thoroughly dishevelled as you noticed with satisfaction.

You were very much pleased with yourself, especially since resisting the urge had been no easy feat and you could still feel the need to grab and feel Astarion right this instant. But for once you had turned the tables - having the hunter end up in the prey’s claws just this time.

“Tonight then”, you answered Astarion’s previous question with a smirk. And then you turned and left your catch struggle. To return to it at a later time - and finish the job.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

[irisintheafterglow]

hey how do we feel about neighbor!bakugo on your first night in a new apartment complex

it was so much colder than you expected.

you already knew you needed to put in a work ticket to fix your ac unit because it seemed to be stuck at the lowest setting (and you weren't in the mood for such a high utility bill). for the time being, bundled up in your comfiest sweater, you finish unpacking the last of your things. the shower curtain is strung, the pots and pans are stored, and the sun is nearly gone by the time you arrange the last throw pillow in front of your headboard.

polaroid pictures of your friends dot your walls, reminders of home that should fill you with something other than sorrow. it was a different type of ache every time you moved back for school; you wanted simultaneously for everything to freeze in time so you wouldn't miss anything, but also for them to live and send you all the memories you weren't experiencing. yet here you were again, in a very cold, very echoey studio that seems too loud when you shut the kitchen cabinet and place a can of soup on the counter.

there's a knock at the door before you turn the knob to light a burner on the stove.

"hey." when you first open the door, you're bombarded with the smell of something incredible, savory and buttery with the slightest smokiness. it drifts down the hallway and you catch a door propped open with a case of plastic water bottles out of the corner of your eye. when you register the guy in front of you, you have to rewire your brain when it short-circuits. "i'm bakugo in 2281. if you smell smoke, don't call anyone. i just messed up trying to cook." he's the first person you've met that can make scowling look so handsome as he runs a hand through unruly blonde hair. you finally realize that you hadn't uttered a word since opening your door and you can imagine the jolt as your senses return to your body.

"i think it smells incredible, actually," you offer and he shrugs, a muscled shoulder lifting underneath a simple black tank. well, that is a...lovely view. "are you pan-frying something?"

"i'm not; my roommate is. i usually do the cooking, but he insisted when i accidentally burnt our shit on high heat."

"happens to the best of us," you agree sympathetically. "is it just the two of you in that unit?"

"nah, we've got two more with us too." a small smirk fights its way onto your face as he looks less-than-pleased with his living arrangements. "unfortunately."

"seems like you get along great with them," you tease lightly and he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. "did you guys move in today too?"

"took seven fuckin' hours, but yeah. eventually." he answers and you snort, feeling a little more at ease and leaning against the doorframe. "you?"

"i just finished unpacking my things. i was about to make dinner when you knocked." you swear you watch his eyes, scarlet red, shoot down and over your body, but the interest is gone as soon as it appears. "well," you begin a little awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. "i hope whatever your roomie makes is delicious, and thank you for letting me know about the smoke. better luck next time, i guess."

"yeah." bakugo shifts uneasily on his feet, like he was trying to say something that wasn't coming out.

"i guess i'll see you around--"

"yo, bakugo! we have a problem!" before you shut the door, you glance down the hall in the direction of the amazing smell and see who you could only assume was bakugo's roommate sticking his face out of the front door. his hair was fiery red and held back by a simple sweatband, also red. bakugo swears under his breath and gives you an apologetic grimace. "oh, hello!" the red-head addresses you with a blindingly bright grin that reaches his ears, which don't seem to be working as he shouts loud enough to get your whole floor a noise complaint. "i'm kirishima! are you our new neighbor?"

"what the fuck happened, shitty hair? and stop fucking yelling!"

"no, we don't have watermelon!" kirishima shouts back incorrectly. bakugo drags his hand down his face with a groan.

"that's not what i asked, dumbass!"

"just fyi, denki didn't tell me he put one packet in until after i put my packet in, so we accidentally made, like, ten servings of food," kirishima yells.

"this is what happens when you dumbasses do the cooking," bakugo barks in response. a crashing THUD! and the distant sound of loud hip-hop leak from their unit and you can't help smiling a little bit. for all their chaos, it was a little endearing. it felt like light was seeping into your stale apartment and you suddenly felt the urge to keep the door ajar so long as they kept theirs the same. "do we have any room in the fridge?"

"you think a broom is a bitch?" kirishima mistakenly mishears again and you stifle a giggle into your hand. "look, we don't have room in the fridge for leftovers since sero bought 2 cases of energy drinks!"

"i am going to stuff all three of them in a box and ship them to a different continent," he mutters and you finally burst out laughing. his eyes flicker over to you and narrow slightly, an idea precipitating in his brain. "you say you didn't eat dinner yet?"

"that can of soup is my dinner." you gesture over your shoulder to the sad little can in the dull light of your apartment. "why?"

"you wanna come over? promise they're not shitheads that wanna poison you. they're just dumbasses that don't know how to cook," he explains, a light shade of pink growing on his ears. "we can leave the door open, too, so you can bolt if you feel uncomfortable or whatever. up to you." he rubs the back of his neck with his palm, exhibiting every possible indicator of embarrassment.

"are you cooking dessert too?"

"no," he replies. "but i can make a mean ice cream sundae. it'll be damn good since i'm the one making it."

"then i don't need anymore convincing. want me to bring my own plate?"

"no need, we have extras." the sound of shattering ceramics followed by screams of horror say otherwise. "on second thought, maybe you should bring your own plate."

"no worries. i'll be over in a second. save me a chair?"

"'course. thanks for helping us and our mess."

"i should be thanking you. stay here a sec," you say quickly before grabbing a plate faster than the speed of sound. before bakugo can inhale again, you're throwing open the door again with a plastic plate and a container in hand. "any chance you've seen that new action-drama on netflix?" you ask as he walks you over to his unit. with every step, the impending chaos nears, and you find yourself grateful for it.

"the guys've been meaning to watch it, i think. i didn't really care but i'll watch it with you, if you want."

"oh, i've already seen it. three times," you admit sheepishly and don't think too much on his suggestion of watching it with you. "i just need someone to talk about the franchise with, and--"

"you the new neighbor? kirishima's almost done cooking, so we should have food out in a sec." another head pokes out from the doorway as you're about to step through. "i'm sero, the hottest one in the house."

"yeah, maybe for blind people!" the final roommate calls from far inside the apartment.

"you can't be in conversations when you're taking a shit, denki!" sero shouts back and invites you inside. "ignore him. he has many, many problems."

"as do all of the people in this damn house," kirishima says in passing as he sets a pan of food on the kitchen table.

"you better have washed your hands, fuckin' weirdo," bakugo threatens when the last roommate appears from the hallway. "sorry about them. we've been friends since high school and i can't get rid of 'em," he whispers to you.

"aw, c'mon. you know you love us or you wouldn't be living with us," denki sings.

"like i had any choice when you asswipes forged my signature on the lease."

"we didn't forge it, we just took creative liberties since you were on patrol..."

when the roommates are finally done arguing, you introduce yourself and, with one last amused look toward bakugo, sit down for dinner.

and for the first time in what felt like days, you felt warm.

---

despite it being less than a hundred feet down the hallway, all four of your new friends insist on walking you to your front door. three of them conveniently dismiss themselves once they've said their goodbyes, leaving you with a very-flushed bakugo fumbling over his words as he asks if you want to come over again sometime.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[redrose10]

Here is Chapter 12! Sorry for the delay. I am feeling better, but I am still a little behind so I’m hoping the next chapter can be posted in a few days. We’re getting closer to the end!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,053

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag List: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Yoongi was too stunned to move or even speak. You on the other hand were impatient and wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Already with your shoes and coat on you walked back over to Yoongi jingling his keys in front of him, “Come on. Let’s get going.” When he still didn’t move you slammed the keys down in front of him, “Now Yoongi!”

He instantly jumped up and hustled after you. He had to admit he was really really starting to love this new take charge no bullshit Y/N.

Once in the car you punched in the address that Namjoon sent you and Yoongi began the drive over.

“What exactly did Namjoon say?”, he asked finally breaking the silence.

“I’ll let him explain everything, but I think that Suri used him to try and get to me so that she could have you.” Yoongi tried to comprehend, but you didn’t even give him the chance to ask for clarification.

“I just don’t understand what her problem is. Is it really worth ruining so many lives to keep you? I mean no offense Yoongi. You are really attractive and you can be nice when you want to be and you do have money, but aren’t there any other rich idiots she can chase after?”

Yoongi looked over at you with his brows furrowed. He wanted to take offense but you were right in a way so he knew it was best to let that one go. Instead he chose to focus on you calling him attractive instead bringing a slight tint of pink to his cheeks. He knew himself that he was attractive, but something about hearing you say it did something to him.

The two of you arrived at your destination and hastily made your way to the front door knocking several times. A few minutes went by before the door swung open revealing a somber Namjoon. He invited you both in offering some drinks before taking a seat on the couch. You and Yoongi sat across from him.

“Thank you both for coming here. Suri doesn’t know this address so there’s no way she could possibly show up. I wanted to make sure of that.”, he said clearing his throat.

“No problem. I think you should start from the beginning to catch Yoongi up on everything that happened and then we can go from there.”

He nodded, “Okay so I guess I’ll just get right to it then. The first time I met Suri was several months ago. I was leaving your place after one of our lessons and she was waiting for Yoongi out in the hallway. We talked a little and that was it. I met her a few more times in similar situations and each time we’d talk a little more. Then this one time Yoongi and Suri were coming back from doing you know what while I had just spent the evening comforting Y/N.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Oh please. If you were so innocent in all this we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Yeah well if you weren’t a womanizing cheating asshole then none of this would’ve happened to begin with.”, Namjoon spat back.

“Both of you stop it. This isn’t the time to act like children’.”, you shouted feeling overwhelmed by their bickering.

Namjoon and Yoongi glared at each other before continuing, “Sorry Y/N, you are right. Anyways, Suri asked if I wanted to grab drinks that night. I didn’t but I wanted to find out more about what Yoongi was up to with her so I agreed. After a few too many drink I let it slip that I was starting to develop feelings for Y/N but she told me that she would never cheat and wasn’t able to leave Yoongi. Suri told me that she had a way to make it so that Y/N wouldn’t want anything to do with Yoongi outside of what was required of her. At the time I thought she was genuinely trying to help me, but looking back it was clear she was just using me to get Yoongi for herself. She started asking me for information about the two of you that she could use. That’s how she knew about the cologne that Y/N had made. She knew that the two of you were going up to the cabin so she really increased the amount of texts she sent hoping that Y/N would come across it. She knew that Y/N was going to be at the charity auction and got Hwan involved.”

“Wait, wait, wait, so did you know that Hwan was going to come after me at the auction?”, you asked feeling hurt that he would possibly put you in danger like that.

“Uhh kind of. He was supposed to just say some creepy stuff to you and then I’d swoop in and chase him off so you’d feel safe with me and be upset with Yoongi for not being there for you. But he wasn’t supposed to follow you outside or actually touch you. He took it too far and then I couldn’t find you anywhere in the building. I know it was a really dumb idea and I don’t know what we were thinking.”

You scoffed, “Yeah you think? Thank God Yoongi was there to save me unlike you. I can’t believe you Namjoon!”

“You’re right Y/N and I’m sorry.”

What about the baby situation?”, you asked after taking a breath and wanting to move this long

“So a while ago she came up with this crazy plan to get pregnant by Yoongi. She really thought that was the key to force him to stay with her. I told her that was taking it way too far, but she didn’t care. She stopped her birth control, but never said anything about it. She would complain constantly that Yoongi refused to touch her without a condom. She came up with this ridiculous idea to have another guy get her pregnant and then say the baby was Yoongi’s. I told her she was fucking nuts and that would never work. I was getting to the point I wanted nothing to do with her or this plan. But I honestly didn’t think she would go through with it. Then one night she came over to my place really upset. She said she had just left Yoongi’s office and he had once again told her that their relationship was over. He was going to work on his marriage and that started with cutting her out of his life. He even had security remove her from the building when she wouldn’t leave. She seemed pretty devastated. I felt kind of bad for her, but honestly I was more relieved that she wouldn’t be able to go through with this crazy pregnancy plan. I asked her if she wanted a drink and one drink turned into two and then three and so on. Well one too many drinks later we ended up in my bed together. The next month she told me she was pregnant and was going to tell Yoongi the baby was his. We both knew I was the father based on the last time she had slept with anyone else and I wasn’t going to let her take the baby away from me. Then when we were at the police station she showed me the sonogram and that she was going to tell Jin about it. I got upset and told her that I wouldn’t let her take my baby away from me and if she told Jin about it then I would tell you both about her whole entire plan. So when I found out from Hwan that she went through with it after I had left I decided to call you.”

Your head was spinning round and round. You felt like you were in some kind of weird soap opera. You looked over and Yoongi looked just as shocked as you felt. “Surely she won’t let you get away with this that easily. What is going to happen to you?”, you asked turning your attention back to Namjoon.

“Well I’m definitely going to loose my job since I work for Hwan’s company now.”, he chuckled.

“But I don’t even care any more. There’s an innocent baby involved and I’m not going to let her continue this mess.”

He reached to the side table next to him and grabbed a brown folder. He handed it over to you before leaning back into the couch, “In this folder is everything you’d need to use against her. Copies of texts, emails, voicemail transcripts. There’s a copy of the prenatal dna test we had done that shows the baby is mine.”

Yoongi took the folder and began flipping through the papers humming and letting go of a sigh everytime he saw something interesting.

“I mean this is great and all, but there’s still the issue of the mixtape.”, you said.

“There is no tape.”, Namjoon spoke.

Yoongi and yourself both looked over at him with wide eyes.

“What?!,” you said in unison.

“Yeah she told me all about that and how she wished she still had a copy of it because it seemed to be the only thing that really scared you. Apparently there was a big data breach at her dads label a couple years ago. Some hackers got in trying to access account information. They had no choice but to wipe every system completely clean loosing a ton of music and other files. For some reason they didn’t have any backups. She said the label almost went bankrupt until they debuted that girl group. You know, Old Jeans or New Beans or something like that.”

You lightly chucked at his lack of pop culture knowledge.

He continued, “But yeah there is no tape. She’s been lying to you about it for years.”

Carefully you peaked over at Yoongi. His face was so red he almost looked purple. He was gripping the folder so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Slowly you reached over trying to not startle him and grasped his hand into yours.

“Umm so what do we do now? We can’t just tell her to stop it. If she’s willing to go through all of this there is no way she’s going to just backdown easily.”, you asked.

The three of you sat in silence for a while pondering your next move.

“I have an idea.”, Yoongi finally spoke before getting up. He extended a hand out to you and you accepted following after him towards the door.

Namjoon followed closely behind. “Thank you for coming clean Namjoon but I think we should take a break in our friendship.”, you said before walking off towards the car.

Yoongi walked just outside the doorframe before turning back to Namjoon.

“I’ll handle it from here. Thank you for providing us with the documents.”

“Sure if you need anything else just let me know.”

Yoongi went to walk down the few stairs leading to the walkway before turning around and making his way back up using his hand to stop the door just before it closed.

“Oh and Namjoon.”

The door swung back open and he gestured for Yoongi to continue.

“Stay the fuck away from my wife.”

He turned and walked back down the steps and over to his car where you were already waiting. Gently he placed the folder in the backseat before putting the car in reverse.

He was silent on the drive back to his place and you didn’t want to push him. Once he parked the two of you sat in the car for a while. Yoongi nervously drummed on the steering wheel.

“Hey are you okay?”, you asked concerned with his lack of emotion.

“Yeah I guess I just can’t believe I’ve been so stressed about this stupid mixtape when it didn’t even matter. I thought I’d feel relieved, but I’m just having a hard time processing it.”

“So what is your plan? How do you know it’ll work and not make things worse?”, you asked reaching over for his hand.

He chuckled before looking over at you with a smirk, “Oh it’ll work Y/N. But uh you are definitely not going to like it.”

[itsbubbleteataro]

Heloo! :D I saw your request are open so i decided to send one! what would be Sunday's reaction to a Furina!s/o? If that's a tad bit confusing, can you do Sunday's reaction to his s/o performing Sinners Finale (Furina's execution song) and the execution if you're feeling angsty :3 (You dont need to add that part if you dont want to) SORRY FOR MY BAD ENGLISH IM REALLY BAD AT EXPLAINING

can i be 🤸 anon pls :3

-🤸

You bet you can! Sorry 🤸 if it's not as you'd like but I did have a lot of fun writing about it. I kept some elements that I really enjoyed and found some nice music to listen to in the prosess. I had a lot of fun brainstorming in a cafe with some coffee!

Sorry about my posting being all over the place, moving across the country in the next few months will keep one busy! Anyways heads up this will pull at the heart strings,

Without anymore stalling, I present

La Danse du Chagrin

"Long, long ago, on a small planet named La Sec, a tradition old as the aeons persisted. Every 500 years a lottery was to be held. The winner is said to preform a dance so wonderful that the skies themselves weep and bring this dry and starved planet the water it desires"

You've told this story to Sunday as many times as he asked. Every time he seemed more and more enthralled within the sad story.

The very same story you told him when he first found you, one of of his many trips outside of Penacony.

He saw you dancing for the very first time, a style he wasn't familiar with at first. You lived gracefully, going up en point as if it were as easy as breathing.

The two of you met when he went to extend an invitation, to invite you to dance for the dreamscape. You soon became one of the more popular shows to go to when Robin wasn't present.

It was just after one of your shows, you and Sunday were in your dressing room. Him away from the public eye, watching you make yourself perfect before your next performance.

Sunday's always liked that about you, how your always perfect when you dance, as well as when you dress for the day or for the stage.

A bloodhound knocks on the door to the dressing room, prompting Sunday to get up and answer it as you were busy making sure your hair was perfect. Sunday was handed a note, addressed to you. He passed it along, setting it down on your table while he took his seat again.

Carefully you opened it, taking the note in hand and reading it. You bit your lip, keeping as stoic an expression as you could muster.

"Well my dear dove, it seems we have a show to attend in La Sec. I do hope you will come watch me dance, they did personally invite me too"

You said as you stood up, turning to face him. In hand your point shoes. In the other a red tambourine with matching velvet ribbons tied to it. Your dress a silky white with blood red accents.

"By of course my dear, it seems we are to depart?"

You nodded your head and walked side by side with him.

----

Arriving home was just like you expected. Dry, the earth cracked and starved for water. You took Sunday to Palace d'ear. A grand palace with many a room and beautiful gardens made of stones instead of lush greens. Inside tall ceilings with paintings.

Sunday looked at the paintings, filled with beautiful dancers, tales of woe and sorrow. Some of excutions.

The two of you walked on, further and further. You directed Sunday to a stage, and had him sit in the audience, while you went off to speak with an official.

------

It had been about an hour, he noticed a spinning blue sword above the stage, he figured it was just an effect. After all, it is a stage.

He blinked as he looked at you, then, the music started to play.

He watched you dance both your and his favorite solo, La Esmeralda Finale .

Your white dress swirled around you as you danced, your pristine point shoes matching your skin as always. Your hair half up and half down. Sunday always lived watching you dance.

The music ended as you held your final pose. As Sunday stood clap, the blue sword he saw beforehand stopped spinning, and came crashing down with a thunk.

Your dress was stained red, like the bow in your hair.

His eyes, wide in horror. No one had explained the sacrifice to him.

He bolted to the stage when he could, cradling what was left of you as he watched your body turn to little blue droplets and head into the sky.

Your bloodied point shoes, held close to his chest as it started to rain outside.

Oh what a terrible day for rain.

He clutched your beloved shoes close to his heart. He started to sob.

First he was robbed of his sister, now of his beloved? How the world was cruel to him.

He stayed long past the crowd leaving, gathering up your belongings to take them back to his home, your home.

Sunday never went to a ballet again, it wasn't the same.

How he wished he could have watched you keep dancing on for him

[cheynovak]

The plan - part 2

Russell Shaw x F/Reader Y/N            

Warnings:��Age difference not too explicit, angst, fights, gunshots, hurt, slight romantic/sexual tension.

 

*Does not follow Tracker’s storyline * 

-- --      

Russell is ready to start his ‘retirement plan’ like he used to call it. He saw an old brewery on one of his jobs and went back to speak to the owner, an old man named Frank.  

Frank also owns a bar close to the brewery, his granddaughter Y/N works there as a bartender. Russell liked her immediately, realising he had to overcome two impossible tasks. One, to try and win Frank over to buy the brewery, two win Y/N over to go on a date with him.  

-- 

Russell pulled out his phone. "I might know a guy who can help us." He said with his phone to his ear. He turned away from Frank.

"Colter?... I need your help." 

I’m on my way,” Colter replied without hesitation.

True to his word, Colter arrived quickly, his presence easing some of that stress Russell felt. He approached Frank and Russell, his eyes sharp and focused. “Tell me everything,” he said, wasting no time.

Russell and Frank recounted the events, and Colter listened intently, his mind working through the details. “Could she have gone to her parents' house, or a boyfriend?” Colter asked.

Russell looked back and forward between Colter and Frank. Boyfriend, maybe she does have a boyfriend? He thought. Frank shook his head, a sorrowful look in his eyes. “Her parents died in a carcrash when she was little. I’ve taken care of her ever since. No boy in her life, as far as I know.”

Colter nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Did she have any enemies, anyone who might want to hurt her?” Frank hesitated, then sighed deeply. “No, but I had debts. I borrowed money to keep the brewery running. Some of those people... they aren’t the type you want to cross.”

Colter’s eyes narrowed. “Who did you borrow from?”Frank swallowed hard. “A man named Vincent Carter. He’s known for getting what he’s owed, no matter the cost.”

Russell felt a surge of anger and fear. “Do you think he took her?” He asked his brother.

“It’s possible,” Colter said. “We need to find out more about this Vincent Carter.” Russell nodded, determination hardening his features. “Let’s go.”

They drove through the town, following the leads Frank had given them until they found themselves at a seedy-looking bar on the outskirts. Inside, the atmosphere was tense, filled with rough-looking men who eyed the brothers suspiciously.

Russell approached the bar, addressing the bartender. “We’re looking for Vincent Carter.”

The bartender’s eyes flickered with recognition, but he said nothing. Colter leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone.

“We’re not here to cause trouble. We just want to talk.” The bartender's silence was infuriating, and as Colter and Russell left the bar, they were no closer to finding Y/N.

Frustration gnawed at Russell, but just as they stepped into the dim light outside, a man emerged from the shadows.

“Wait,” the man called out, glancing nervously around. “I heard you asking about Vincent Carter. I might know where he is.” Russell’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you helping us?”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “Let’s just say I’m not a fan of Carter, he took my niece a few weeks ago, rumours have it he takes young women and sells them, to pay of your debt... I'm working here for my debt hoping he let's her go. He’s got a warehouse on the edge of town. He might be there.”

Colter stepped forward, his voice low and commanding. “What’s the address?” The man quickly scribbled it down and handed it over. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”

Russell and Colter wasted no time. They geared up, donning their tactical vests and holstering their weapons, ready for whatever awaited them.

The drive to the warehouse was tense, both men silently focused. "So, what's the deal with this Y/N?" Colter asked his older brother. "What do you mean?" He answered looking out the window.

"I mean... You really seemed shocked when I asked about a boyfriend." Russell didn't answer immediatly. "I met her a few weeks back, she is nice."

"And her grandfather owns a brewery." Colter added. "That too." He said. Colter's face changed with a knowing smile. But didn't push any further.

As they approached the location, they parked a distance away and made their way on foot, moving with practiced stealth. The warehouse loomed before them, its darkened windows giving nothing away.

They carefully made their way inside, scanning the large, dimly lit space. Russell’s heart leaped into his throat, but as they drew closer, he realized neither of them was Y/N.

Colter signaled for him to cover, and together they approached the women. Russell knelt down, gently untying their restraints. “Are you okay? Where’s Y/N?” he asked urgently.

One of the women, her eyes wide with fear, shook her head. “We don’t know. They took her somewhere else. We heard them say something about moving her to another location.”

Russell’s frustration grew, but he kept his voice calm. “Do you know where?” The second woman, her voice trembling, said, “We heard them mention an old factory. It’s not far from here.”

Colter and Russell exchanged a look. It was another lead, and it was better than nothing. They escorted the women outside, ensuring they were safe before heading back to their car.

Colter already called for the cops, leading the two women out of the building towards the main road before continuing their search.

As they drove to the factory, Russell’s thoughts raced. Y/N was still out there, and they were running out of time. The factory came into view, an imposing structure that had long since fallen into disuse.

They approached cautiously, their movements silent and deliberate. The factory was eerily quiet, but they pressed on, sweeping each room methodically.

It wasn’t long before they found another room with Y/N in it, tied to a chair and looking bruised but defiant. Relief washed over Russell, but there was no time to waste. Her eyes filled with joy.

As Russell rushed to untie Y/N, the door behind them burst open. Vincent Carter strode in, flanked by armed men, guns blazing. Bullets ricocheted off the walls as Colter and Russell took cover, returning fire with precision.

“Russell!” Y/N called out over the din. He glanced back at her, his eyes fierce with determination. He reached into his vest and pulled out a spare gun, handing it to her.

“Do you know how to handle one of these?” he asked urgently. Y/N’s faint smile was almost nostalgic. “You think my granddad didn’t teach me how to use one?” She said while turning the safety off.

She took the gun confidently, her eyes flashing with a resolve that mirrored Russell’s. As she found cover, she quickly assessed the situation, her grip steady.

Russell and Colter continued their tactical advance, methodically taking down Vincent’s men. Y/N fired with precision, her training evident in each controlled shot, hitting the one guy who stood behind Colter.

"Despite her injuries, she moved with determination, not shooting a lot but those bullets she fired where bullseye.

Vincent, realizing he was losing, grew desperate. He fired wildly, his rage and frustration evident in his erratic movements. Colter seized the opportunity, moving in close and disarming Vincent with a swift, calculated move.

Vincent hit the ground hard, and Colter secured him, ensuring he was no longer a threat. As the dust settled, Russell rushed back to Y/N, his eyes scanning her for any new injuries.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

She nodded, wincing slightly but smiling. “I’m okay, thanks to you.” Russell pulled her into a tight embrace, relief flooding through him. Colter approached, his expression a mix of satisfaction and respect. “You did good, Y/N. Let’s get out of here.”

As they escorted Vincent out, the police arrived, taking him and the remaining men into custody. Y/N, Russell, and Colter emerged from the factory into the first light of dawn, the ordeal finally over.

Back at the brewery, Frank was waiting, his worry evident in the lines of his face. When he saw Y/N, his eyes welled with tears of relief. “Y/N,” he yelled, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “Thank God you’re safe.”

She hugged him tightly, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thanks to Russell and Colter.”

Frank turned to Russell, his expression earnest. “Thank you, son. I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”

Russell shook his head. “You don’t have to. But if you insist..." Frank interfered, "The brewery is not for sale." - "a beer is always welcome." They said at the same time.

Y/N leaned into Russell, her hand intertwined with his holding him back while Colter and Frank walked in the pub. “Thank you for everything,” she said softly. “How can I repay you?”

Russell smiled, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that way she had come to love. “Well, I already have a beer, I'm pretty sure tonight will be on the house.” he said playfully.

Y/N laughed, the sound like music to his ears. “That’s my grandfather’s payment,” she teased.

Russell’s smile turned mischievous. “Well, then…” he began, but before he could finish, Y/N leaned in, her eyes sparkling with affection and gratitude. She pressed her lips to his in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

For a moment, Russell was too surprised to react, his breath catching in his throat. When they parted, he was speechless, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N’s eyes met his, her cheeks flushed and her smile radiant. “Does that cover it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Russell found his voice, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I don't know, maybe one more? ” he said, leaning in to kiss her again. But Y/N placed her fingers gently over his mouth, stopping him.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she flirted, her eyes twinkling mischievously when she kissed her finger that where still on his lips. With a playful smirk she walked back inside, leaving Russell standing there, his heart pounding.

He watched her go, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the cool evening air. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Y/N was something else, a blend of strength, kindness, and a teasing spirit that kept him on his toes.

As he stood there, staring after her, he realized that the brewery, the town, and this unexpected connection with Y/N had given him something he hadn’t realized he needed: a sense of belonging, and maybe even a chance at real happiness.

He knew she wouldn't be an easy catch, but hell she might be the first one worthy to fight for.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

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@suckitands33

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@ladysparkles78

[nanabansama]

Inspired by colowallocake's post, I searched through various Japanese legends about human sacrifice and wanted to offer some of my own suggestions as to the identity of the infamous "Pit God," as I like to call it.

First, let's recap what we know about it.

The god is heavily associated with water. The kannagi are sacrificed by being forced off cliffs and into a water-filled abyss. These kannagi wash ashore to a reservoir below the Red House, which was built on a well that taps into said reservoir. And when Tsukasa sacrifices himself, the God talks in watery speech bubbles:

It seems that whoever this god is, it's some kind of water god (水神 Mizugami) that dwells in Kamome.

And that's actually a common thing! After pouring through a few different articles about human sacrifice in Japan, I found that many of them are done to appease water gods. This is both a good and bad thing; good because there's so many and it's easy to find info, and bad because it doesn't really help us narrow it down.

That said, I have a few different stories I'd like to share with you. The first will be Mitsumata-fuchi.

Mitsumata-fuchi's story is remarkably similar to how the sacrificial ceremony works in TBHK. A beautiful maiden or otherwise a kannagi, aged about 15-16, is thrown into a pool of deep water for a festival thrown anywhere from once yearly to every 12 years to quell the anger of a wrathful god. That's crazy similar, isn't it?

And this "Mitsumata" is a real place! It's where the Numakawa and Wadagawa rivers in Japan join together. It's located in Fuji City in the Shizuoka prefecture. The Wadagawa river is also called by the name "Sacrifice River", funnily enough...

Anyway, there's another story about the Mitsumata I found interesting. A group of 7 girls were passing by when one of them, Oaji, was selected by the villagers to be sacrificed. The other 6 girls were spared and escaped, but feeling bad for the friend they left behind, they end up drowning themselves in a lake.

...But in an ironic twist of fate, the villagers had let Oaji go. Oaji ran after her friends, but when she learned they drowned themselves, she grew so sorrowful she threw herself into the water with them. Thereafter, the evil god was said to never demand a sacrifice again...

I'm not sure if AidaIro will ever reference this particular story, but I found the fact that 7 girls were sacrificed very intriguing in the context of TBHK.

Anyway, there are some interesting things in this legend that haven't been addressed in TBHK. For one, the god here is either a dragon or a giant (sometimes poisonous) snake.

We do have an illustration of this Pit God, which...

...was probably heavily stylized by some in-universe artist, but it is a valuable frame of reference nonetheless. Honestly, it really just looks like a nonspecific supernatural monster to me, but to call it a dragon or serpent isn't a far reach, either, I think...

Something about the multiple mouths reminds me of another story, though. And while I can't really get a specific name or detailed description for the Mitsumata-fuchi god, I do have one for this next one.

Yamata-no-orochi!!!

This tale is a lot more famous, so I'll be quick. Yamata-no-Orochi is an eight-headed serpent legendarily defeated by the brother of the great Amaterasu, Susanoo-no-Mikoto. When Amaterasu's fail brother was kicked out of Takamagahara, he wound up in the land of Izumo and met a crying old couple and a young girl. The old couple explains that they once had 8 daughters, but Yamata-no-Orochi devoured the other 7. It comes down once every year to eat one of their daughters, and soon enough their last daughter will be eaten, too.

Hearing this, Susanoo agrees to help them under one condition: that they let him take their last daughter as a wife. They agree, and Susanoo turns their daughter into a comb and asks them to prepare 8 tubs filled with sake. They comply, and when the serpent comes, each one of its eight heads greedily drink up the sake. Now drunk, the serpent is easily slain by Susanoo and his mighty blade.

...it kind of reminds you of how Minamoto no Yorimitsu got the oni Hakubo lived with drunk and slaughtered them, doesn't it? All these stories and making me afraid to drink sake... *shiver*

Anyway, Orochi is also a Water God, and probably the most famous of the ones that eat young maidens. While I'm unsure if our Pit God is Orochi, it wouldn't exactly surprise me! The fact that Yamata-no-Orochi (八岐大蛇) has eight heads while our protagonist Yashiro Nene (八尋寧々) has the kanji for 8 in her name is also an interesting connection.

As for our last story, I'll try to keep it brief. This one involves a dog, though, so I hope that keeps it fun and fresh for you.

This is the story of Shippeitaro, the legendary dog who, spoiler alert, saved a village from an evil spirit that demanded human sacrifices. In this story, girls are chosen to be sacrificed by a white arrow, and whoever's house is hit by the white arrow has to offer up their daughter. The girl is then sacrificed by being left at a shrine inside of a box/cage. Hmm, intriguing...

Anyway, long story short, the dog hides inside of the box instead and when the evil spirit comes to eat it, it springs out and defeats it! Good boy.

One of the interesting things about this story is that there are many variations. You'll notice I said "evil spirit" instead of something specific. That's because the spirit takes many forms. One of the more popular variations is that of a cat, but it can also be a monkey, fox, wolf...mostly different animals, from what I'm seeing.

Overall I think this story has a weaker connection than the other two, but on the whole, it wouldn't surprise me if AidaIro is taking inspiration from multiple stories instead of any specific one. Which brings me to my next point...

It's totally possible that our Water Pit God is just an original creation by AidaIro! In case you're not in the know, Japanese kami (gods) are basically infinite. Considering TBHK takes place in a made-up town, it's not too surprising if this kami is made-up, too, hm? :)

But hopefully you still found this post to be of help. I had a lot of fun researching for it. And if any of the stuff I mentioned here ever happens to show up in TBHK, that would be really cool! Anyway, if you made it this far, thanks for reading. ☆

[spacebarbarianweird]

Mute!Tav Headcanons

This idea has lingered in my thoughts for quite some time. I've come to realize that typical health challenges in the D&D world can often find solutions. Suppose Tav loses their ability to speak, hear, or see due to natural causes. There might be ways to address and overcome those issues in that case. However, what if Tav's affliction stemmed from a curse?

Imagine Tav and Astarion find the cloak of Dragomir. The cloak that allows a vampire to walk in the sun, to cross the running water, and enter houses uninvited? But to get it, there is a price to pay - something equally valuable for the person.

And it's Tav's voice.

No cure, no reverse. You can't return the cloak and get the voice back. Just muteness and the cloak for Astarion to wear

@micropoe10 @glasswatergirl

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is absolutely heartbroken.

The thing he has wished to obtain appears to be a cruel joke just like any magical object.

It takes you time to adjust to the new condition.

At first, you are happy it isn't something more severe like deafness and blindness.

But soon, you realize how vital speech is.

You can't speak to the people you meet.

You can't talk to the quest givers.

You can't simply say what you want and need, and even writing skills are little help since most people in Faerun are illiterate.

When you realize it, you silently cry, pressing your knees against the chest.

Now, you have the same sorrow Astarion does. Something important is taken away forever, and it can't be compensated.

You cry for hours till Astarion wakes up from his trance and sees you shivering and trembling.

He immediately sits beside you, letting you cry on his shoulder.

Astarion says every affectionate word he can think of.

He says how much he loves you and that he will never abandon you.

But you can see desperation and guilt in his crimson eyes because your condition is his fault.

He could have just accepted his fate as a creature of the night, but no! He wanted to walk in the sunlight!

Astarion misses your voice.

He misses your laughter, bickering, and words of love, which were able to drag him from the darkest void of his tortured mind.

He misses your moanings and whimpers. 

Nights of passion are almost silent.

What is worse, you can't cry for help if something happens, and Astarion becomes overprotective, never letting you out of his sight.

You can't say the incantations anymore.

If you are a warrior or a barbarian, it's not that bad.

But if your life depends on magic, it's as bad as you can imagine.

Astarion isn't always comfortable with you touching him, but well, he has no choice anymore.

The only way to communicate is by touching. Grabbing his hand, patting a shoulder.

He learns how to lip-read, and you master the skill of quick writing.

Plus, you have to work out how to communicate when having sex.

How do you get Astarion's attention if he dissociates again? How do you tell him that he is being too rude to you and you want him to stop?

Sometimes, it turns physical, where you punch him in the stomach to get him to stop for you or his benefit.

You become very affectionate and always stay close to him when traveling.

Eventually, Astarion stops hating the cloak that has caused so much grief and decides to make the most of it.

You travel. A lot. In the sunlight, fearing nothing and no one.

But sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night to Astarion holding you tightly to his undead heart and whispering: "I wish this had never happened to you."

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive

[helluvathings]

Random observation, but I've seen a lot of posts in this fandom that begin something like "I know everyone has been hating on (insert either Blitzø or Stolas), and it's unfair because..." And it's funny, because I remember a poll a while back asking who's in the right, and something like 70+ percent of respondents said they were both part of the problem. The vast majority is neutral.

I mean, obviously it's human nature where if you have a favorite, and people are writing essays against your favorite, it feels like that character is being attacked from all sides. But I wonder if part of the perception that either everyone is against Stolas, or everyone is against Blitzø, doesn't also have to do with the way feedback toward each tends to appear.

This is just experiential so take it with a grain of salt, but the comments on the episodes, as well as reaction videos, tend to be biased for Stolas. Which makes sense. He's more openly vulnerable. Seeing his pain is easier, and his mistakes are subtler. He expresses love, grief, and sorrow like a Disney princess, through song and romantic gestures. Since his mistakes are typically subtle and only really reacted to by Blitzø (bristly, temperamental) or Octavia (so-called angtsy teenager), they stand out less on a first watch.

Blitzø's mistakes are bigger, volatile. His pain manifests in an uglier way. On first watch, reactors tend to dismiss him as a jerk/idiot/or even a villain. But further analysis, context, deeper thought, add complexity to his character, and the more you consider Blitzø's perspective, the more serious Stolas's (accidental) missteps feel. In light of that, seeing all the initial positive responses to Stolas can be frustrating, because it's like no one is looking deeper: so essays/videos show up detailing all the reasons that yes, Stolas is wrong too, almost as a reaction to the more positive initial Stolas takes.

I do think there are more in-depth 'Stolas messed up' essays than Blitzø ones, because everyone knows Blitzø messed up. The show makes it clear. Stolas is less obvious. His issues haven't been strongly addressed in his character arc, and sometimes get glossed over by casual reactions/analyses. And that can get frustrating to people who want to see both sides.

At the same time, if you're a Stolas fan looking for reactions, the abundance of 'this is why Stolas isn't great' content probably does get discouraging. People sort of take his sympathetic qualities for granted, and dig into his flaws. While people take Blitzø's flaws for granted and dig into his sympathetic qualities.

At least that's my two-cents for why some fans seem to feel everyone is favoring one side or another, when it seems like most the fandom does recognize mutual fault.

[pr3ttyb0ym2g]

GUILTY CONSCIENCE ꒰ADAM 𝘅 gn! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳꒱

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Angst, disturbing content. Adam killed you and is now in Heaven's court. He feels guilty, horrified by what he did. But regardless, his guilt will continue to swallow him whole. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I wanted to write smth more intense and raw, more THERE. Because why not? Also chose Adam because uhm.. He seemed fitting here. I hope this is gut wrenching, I put some feelings into it but idk if it just comes out goofy and cringey so, feedback is loved.

Adam was sweating heavily in front of Sera. His robe's collar suddenly felt too tight, he felt like he was losing oxygen. His vision was swimming and his breaths were shallow. "We have gathered here today to solemnly discuss the passing of one of our angelic brethren." Adam felt like he was gonna throw up as his body shuddered. He could feel everything around him, suddenly hyperaware of his own senses. He could hear the faint ringing in the back of his mind, a small bead of sweat dripping down the base of his neck, and the hairs on his arms standing up. "Adam, the first man, the court asks you to recount the events leading to the passing of [name]." He couldn't focus on what his peers were saying. He could only hone his mind onto the beat of his heart. "Adam." Ah, that was Sera, the head Seraphim and Adam's so-called manager. She was speaking, calling out to him. "Adam?" He felt himself shrink, shakingly crossing his arms over his chest. Where was Lute? Did they send her away just to isolate him? Adam needed his subordinate. As much as he hated admitting it, he couldn't stand being alone. For eons his greatest fear was loneliness. Yet he wasn't alone, pairs of eyes were watching him. God, where is Lute? He silently prayed for Lute to just burst through the large golden doors. He had hoped she'd act just like her usual brash self, arriving to defend him like she usually did during previous court hearings. "Adam! The court is demanding you speak." "Sera.." "Emily, we can't overlook this. This is a pressing matter." Why did he do it, just why did he? "Is it true you were with [name]?" A foreign voice spoke, it must be a prosecutor. It seemed familiar, Adam might have heard it before, he's been in too many hearings to count. "Adam, your silence will not be an answer." They addressed him so forwardly; all calling him Adam. He no longer felt like he was God's beloved creation. "Is it true you often fought with [name]?" And why did they say your name so much? It made his heart ache. Your name, something he'd always have on his lips. He wanted to say it again. He wanted to call you. But that's no longer possible. "Is it true you were with [name] that night?" That night, right, that dreadful night. "Adam, answer." They were too eager to hear from him. Were they always like this? He never remembered anyone wanting his attention this badly before. "Where is [name]'s body, Adam." The prosecutor sounded sorrowful, as if pleading to him. "Adam, please speak." "Adam, please, you have to tell us. Where is their body? We're all so desperate for answers. Please, just say something, anything. We need to know, we need to." Were you always this popular? It seems he forgot how much your presence actually affected others. He never really thought of your relations that much, so the idea that people would cry for you was horrifyingly shocking. "Head Seraphim, what do we do? He's unresponsive—" "Hell." Adam uttered, feeling like he was breathless. "Adam, repeat that." Sera feared the worst. "The body, [name]'s body— it's there. In Hell."

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvoktober Day 23: 'Resolutions' Au. [Patreon | Commissions] -Mountain Goats Love Love Love Starts Playing-

Ok. So. In this au Tuvok doesn't go against Janeway's orders and refuses to contact the Vidiians and he and Harry Kim go on to have a long and incredibly tense Captain-First Officer dynamic where Harry grows to actively hate him and is working against him whenever it won't put the rest of the crew in danger. Constantly looking for ways to save the Captain and Chakotay. Constantly keeping everyone on the verge of mutiny: Can you believe he's just wearing the captain's uniform now? She was his closest friend but I guess that didn't mean anything to him. He never liked Chakotay in the first place, why would he think it's important to go back for a Maquis, right? Tuvok doesn't seem good at managing groups of different people if they aren't already primed and willing to listen to him. He also has outstanding bad blood with the Maquis that he canonically never really addresses and I don't think he's capable of addressing it in a way that isn't essentially "I did my job, please put it behind us and do yours." (He isn't good at intentionally winning people over) This when compared to Harry Kim's charisma, passion, and the ease at which he makes friends is a disaster when it comes to morale and public opinion. At a certain point it becomes no longer 'we should go back for the captain' but more 'Tuvok shouldn't be captain.' Harry doesn't really WANT to be captain - his goal is saving Janeway & Chakotay, but if Tuvok isn't going to do it then he doesn't want Tuvok to be in charge. At a certain point, some people also start feeling bad for Tuvok because he's clearly not doing well. He keeps Harry Kim as his first officer despite Harry becoming increasingly insubordinate (there was a long stretch where he pretended to comply and be content while working behind the scenes but that's over now) because, as it turns out, Janeway wanted him to be her successor in the event that she died of old age. It was written in a will she gave Tuvok and now it seems that Tuvok will keep him by his side even though Harry's ready to feed him to the wolves. Maybe he deserves it. Tom asks Tuvok why he's so resistant to giving up his captain's seat (after going to his ready room and getting into an argument with him bc he's like "Look dude, Harry's got almost everyone's support. There's GONNA be a mutiny if you don't step down.") and Tuvok says simply that the captain- Janeway, appointed him Captain and gave them their orders. He will follow them. "To what, your dying breath? That's not very logical is it?" He will follow them, lieutenant. That is all. Dismissed. Eventually there is a mutiny and Harry tries to force Tuvok to step down as captain voluntarily. Tuvok refuses. Harry, frustrated and grief-stricken to the point of near madness at this point, points a phaser at him. They're staring into each other's eyes and Tuvok still refuses and Harry realizes that he can see that wild, broken glint in his own eyes reflected in Tuvok's. They're both so far past the tipping point. Unreasonable. So laden with sorrow and horror and hanging on to the past with both hands bloody so they won't have to face how bad things have gotten, how far gone everything they cared about is in both directions. Harry lowers his phaser and turns away. Tells the mutineers to confine Tuvok to quarters but NOT to hurt him. They're going back. "Aye, captain." Someone says and Harry turns to them, angry and confused. "I'm NOT the captain!" he shouts then looks out at the view screen as Tom turns the ship around, shaking his head. Harry...Harry...what've you done? "We're going to save the captain," Harry insists, gripping the arm of the captain's chair to keep himself steady without sitting in it. "We're going to save them both."