#and i’m eternally grateful they responded this way

[kinokoshoujoart]

the sos awl development team really looked at rock and said “even if we could fix him (we can’t) he would never agree to it, carry on king”

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐨 𝐩 𝐞 𝐧 𝐚 𝐫 𝐦 𝐬 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! an unlikely alliance between the pogues and rafe forms as suspicions point to a familiar kook being behind the leaked video, but without proof, the tension’s impossible to ignore. the group teams up (sort of) to figure it out, but the kook-pogue divide is hanging by a thread, and it’s only a matter of time before things blow up.

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: angst , softdom!rafe , sexual content + unprotected shower sex! , fingering , squirting , pogues accidentally hear you and rafe , some fluff , stalker , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 7.6k

notes: this is chapter four of my nobody gets me series. click the links below to read the first chapters! ♡

chapter one: 𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

rafe’s jaw clenched tightly, the muscles ticking as he pressed his phone against his ear, trying to hold back his frustration. ward’s voice droned on from the other end of the line, sharp and condescending, the lecture having gone on for what felt like an eternity.

“—jeopardizing everything, rafe,” ward snapped, his tone cutting through the line like a knife. “our family name is being slandered all over obx, and for what? some girl?”

rafe’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles white as his other hand balled into a fist at his side. “it’s not just some girl,” he growled, his voice low.

“oh, really?” ward shot back, the sarcasm in his voice grating. “because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’ve let some fling drag our name through the mud. rose is getting calls from everyone for god’s sake! do you even understand the kind of damage this is doing?”

rafe’s breath came in sharp bursts as he stared at the wall, his anger barely contained. “i’m handling it,” he said through gritted teeth, though even he wasn’t sure if he believed it anymore.

“handling it?” ward laughed coldly. “you’ve got a sex tape floating around the island, and the entire town knows it’s you. how, exactly, are you handling it, rafe?”

“just trust me, okay?” rafe snapped, his voice rising. “i’ll take care of it.”

“trust you?” ward scoffed. “you can’t even keep your name—and our family’s name—out of the gutter. you think i’m going to trust you to clean this up? you’d better figure it out fast, rafe, because i’m not letting this ruin everything i’ve built.”

the line went dead before rafe could respond, the sound of the call disconnecting echoing in his ears. his hand trembled as he lowered the phone, his entire body tense with rage. “fucking perfect,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the phone onto the couch as he paced the room, the weight of ward’s words pressing down on him like a boulder.

from the doorway, you stood with your arms crossed, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek as rafe’s raised voice echoed through the room. you hadn’t meant to listen in, but with the way he was practically shouting into the phone, it was impossible not to overhear.

each word dripped with frustration and anger, and though you couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, it wasn’t hard to piece together who he was talking to—or what they were talking about. the tension in his tone, the clipped way he spit out his words, made it clear: this wasn’t just an argument, it was a full-blown fight.

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty for standing there, but something kept you rooted in place. maybe it was the way his shoulders tensed with every sharp word, or how he gripped the phone like it was the only thing holding him together. you’d never seen him like this, so unfiltered, so completely on edge.

“rafe?” you finally spoke, your voice soft, almost hesitant, as if you were afraid of how he might respond.

his blazed, anger-filled eyes snapped to yours, but the moment he saw you, they softened instantly. the tension in his body seemed to dissipate just slightly, his shoulders dropping. it had been a few days since the video had spread across the island, and this was one of the first times he’d seen you standing on your own.

the sight tugged at his chest. for most of that time, you’d been curled up in his bed, hidden beneath the layers of his oversized hoodie, refusing to eat or even speak to him. it had him worried sick, pacing between his room and the kitchen, trying to figure out how to help you without making things worse.

now, seeing you out of that self-imposed cocoon, he felt a flicker of hope, but also the weight of knowing you were still hurting.

“hey,” he said softly, his tone shifting completely, the frustration from his call gone. “you… you okay?” he asked, his voice careful, as if he were afraid to push too hard and send you retreating again. it was a simple question, but the way he looked at you, like you were the most important thing in the world, made it clear that it wasn’t just small talk. he needed to know—he had to know—that you were okay.

he stepped closer, his movements slow, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of what you were feeling. the silence stretched between you for a moment, heavy and unspoken.

instead of answering, you nodded toward the couch where his phone now sat after being tossed in anger. “daddy dearest, i assume?” you said quietly, your tone laced with a mix of exhaustion and faint humor, though your heart wasn’t really in it.

rafe’s jaw tightened briefly at your words, but then he let out a small, humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “he’s… not exactly thrilled about the current situation.”

he glanced at you, his eyes scanning your face carefully, as though trying to gauge your reaction. “it’s all about the family name, the reputation. nothing new,” he added bitterly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

you stayed silent for a moment, your arms crossing over your chest as you studied him. “you okay?” you finally asked, your voice softer this time.

rafe blinked at your question, surprised. he’d been so focused on worrying about you these past few days that he hadn’t even thought about how he must’ve looked to you—worn down, tense, and barely keeping it together. “me?” he said, letting out a short, dry laugh. “i’m fine. it’s you I’m worried about.”

his gaze softened as he stepped closer, his hand hovering near your arm like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him touch you. “you don’t have to worry about him,” he murmured. “or anyone else. i’ll deal with it.”

you smiled softly, not bothering to answer, and instead stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. his body stiffened for a split second, like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he relaxed into you, his arms circling your waist tightly, as if he was afraid to let go.

now that you were this close, you could see it—how exhausted he really was. the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders that didn’t seem to ease even as he held you. rafe had been carrying just as much as you, if not more, and the realization made your chest ache.

his hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair as he sighed against your shoulder. “i missed you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the vulnerability in his tone catching you off guard. “these past few days… you scared me.”

you tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his neck. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words muffled but heartfelt. you hadn’t meant to shut him out, but the weight of everything had been too much, and now, standing here in his arms, you felt a flicker of regret for not letting him in sooner.

“it’s okay,” he replied softly, pulling back just enough to look at you. his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he studied you with those piercing blue eyes that held equal parts concern and relief. “just… don’t do that again, okay? i can’t—i don’t want to lose you.”

your lips parted, but no words came. instead, you nodded, leaning into his touch, letting the silence between you carry the weight of everything unspoken. slowly, you moved closer, your lips just inches from his when his phone, still resting on the couch, buzzed loudly, breaking the moment.

rafe groaned, running a hand down his face. “can never have anything, i swear,” he mumbled as he reluctantly reached for the phone after sitting. his annoyance only deepened when he saw the caller id: sarah.

her name flashing across the screen made his jaw tighten, the memory of their last argument still raw. he hesitated for a moment before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what?” he snapped, his tone sharp and clipped, already bracing himself for another confrontation.

a pause hung on the other end, the silence making his grip on the phone tighten. when sarah finally spoke, her voice was quieter than usual. “we need to talk.”

rafe rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “thought we already said everything there was to say,” he muttered impatiently.

“not about me and you,” sarah replied, her tone softer but still steady. “it’s about y/n.”

his heart stuttered, his posture stiffening as her words registered. “what about her?” he demanded, the edge in his voice sharper now, his protective instincts flaring. from the corner of his eye, he saw you chewing your bottom lip, clearly aware they were talking about you.

sarah cleared her throat, her voice carefully controlled. “how is she doing?”

rafe exhaled, turning his head to glance at you. “she’s getting there,” he admitted quietly, his tone softening slightly. the weight of his words lingered in the air, the silence on the other end of the line growing heavy.

“good,” sarah finally said, her voice hesitant. then, she continued, firmer this time. “listen, the pogues and i are trying to figure out who sent the video. we’ve been going over suspects all night and—”

“don’t bother,” rafe cut in sharply, his words curt and dismissive. “i have rob working on it already.”

there was a pause on the other end, the silence practically dripping with disapproval. “rafe,” sarah finally said, her tone measured, “this isn’t something you can just bulldoze through like one of your deals. rob might be good, but this? this is personal.”

“and what, you think you and your little crew can handle it better?” rafe snapped, his voice rising. “this isn’t some pogue treasure hunt, sarah. this is serious shit. she’s being stalked, and i’m not about to leave this in anyone else’s hands.”

sarah’s sharp sigh cut through the line, her frustration evident. “it’s not about doing it better, rafe. it’s about doing it together. you think you’re the only one who cares about her? we all do. but if you keep shutting everyone out, you’re just going to make this worse—for her and for you.”

rafe didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as her words sank in. deep down, he knew she was right—he couldn’t do this alone. but admitting it felt impossible under the crushing weight of guilt and anger pressing on him.

“if you want to help her, you’ll work with us. accept the help,” sarah said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “if you can, meet us at the chateau—”

“no,” rafe interrupted quickly, his voice resolute. “i’m not leaving the house when there’s a whole-ass stalker around, sarah.”

sarah sighed on the other end, her frustration now mixed with understanding. “then let us come to you,” she offered. “you don’t have to do this alone, rafe. none of us want her to go through this alone either.”

rafe hesitated, his chest tightening at the thought of letting anyone else into the fragile space you both had built. but as much as he hated to admit it, he knew sarah was right. he couldn’t do this alone—not if it meant giving you the support you needed.

“fine,” rafe muttered, glancing at the time on his watch. “be here in an hour.” before sarah could respond, he ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone back onto the couch with a sigh.

you took careful steps over to him, standing between his legs as he leaned back on the couch, watching your every move. without hesitation, he reached out, his hands gently pulling you down onto his lap so you were straddling him. his arms wrapped securely around your waist as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

his hands moved to your hips, rubbing slow, soothing patterns that made you feel grounded despite the chaos surrounding you. “thank you for letting her in,” you mumbled softly against his skin, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled faintly, catching on immediately that you and sarah must have discussed this beforehand. “sneaky,” he murmured, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as his hand moved to cradle the back of your head.

you lifted your face just enough to glance at him, catching the slight curve of his lips. “it’s for the best,” you said gently, your fingers brushing lightly over his biceps.

“we’ll see,” he replied, the softness in his voice betraying his usual skepticism. even so, the way he held you closer said he trusted your judgment, even if it meant letting sarah—and the others—into your carefully guarded space.

after a moment of silence, you sighed and pushed gently against him, only for rafe to groan in protest, tightening his grip on your waist.

“rafe, i have to shower,” you whined, though there was no real frustration in your voice.

he smirked, muttering a soft, “okay,” before standing up with you still straddling him, his arms securely holding you in place. instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, giggling as he walked the two of you toward his bathroom.

you hid your laughter against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin as he stepped into the bathroom and set you down on the edge of the sink. his eyes softened as he began peeling your clothes off, taking his time, his movements slow and deliberate. there was something about these moments with rafe that made the rest of the world fade away, like time itself paused just for the two of you.

before long, you were both under the warm spray of the shower, the steam curling around you like a cocoon. rafe stood behind you, his chest pressed to your back as he ran a soapy loofah up your arms, his touch both gentle and grounding. you leaned your head back against his chest, letting your eyes flutter closed, savoring the quiet intimacy between you.

“this okay?” he murmured softly against your ear, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“more than okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. moments like this reminded you of the side of rafe that not everyone got to see—the side that made you feel safe, loved, and completely seen.

rafe let the warm water cascade over your body, rinsing away the lathered soap as you turned to face him. your eyes met his, and without hesitation, you reached up, finally pressing your lips to his in a slow, passionate kiss. it was soft, yet it carried all the emotions you hadn’t been able to express in the past few days.

he froze for a moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then his hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. it was as if the tension in his chest melted away, his heart pounding against his ribs as he poured everything he’d been holding back into the moment.

he practically lost feeling in his legs, the relief washing over him as much as the water did. it had been days since you’d let him kiss you, days of tiptoeing around your emotions and giving you the space you needed. not that it mattered to him how long it took—he would’ve waited forever if you needed him to.

but god, he’d missed this. the way your lips moved against his, the way your fingers tangled in his wet hair, the way your body pressed against his like it was made to fit perfectly there. it was killing him to restrain himself, to not touch you the way he wanted to.

he let out a soft groan, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face as he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his eyes fluttering closed as he let himself savor the moment.

“i’m here,” you whispered back, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you smiled softly.

he opened his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability shining in them before he kissed you again, slower this time, like he was trying to memorize the feel of you all over again. in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the chaos, not the fear—just you and him, together under the steady rhythm of the water.

the kiss deepened, growing messier and more desperate as rafe pressed you firmly against the cold tiles. the chill of the surface sent a jolt through your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips that only fueled his hunger.

his hand slid from your hair, trailing down your damp skin until it reached the heat between your thighs. the moment his fingers slipped between your folds, he groaned low and guttural, the sound vibrating against your lips as your jaw went slack.

“shit,” rafe muttered, his voice thick with need as his lips brushed against yours. his fingers teased your clit, circling just enough to drive you insane. “so fuckin’ wet, huh? just for me?”

you nodded frantically, your breath hitching as he circled your clit faster, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. “just for you,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders for support.

rafe’s cock twitched painfully against his stomach, the sight of you unraveling beneath him nearly pushing him over the edge. “fuck,” he growled, his hips pressing into your hip in a slow, desperate grind. “you’re driving me insane, baby. can’t even think straight.”

his fingers worked faster, slipping inside you as his thumb stayed focused on your swollen bud. the obscene wet sounds of his movements filled the small space, mixing with your breathy moans and his ragged curses. “you feel so good,” he muttered against your neck, his voice strained as he continued to rut against you, craving more.

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice shaky as your body began to tremble against the tiles. “please…”

he smirked against your skin, his teeth grazing your ear as he murmured, “please what? tell me what you need.” his fingers curled inside you, hitting the spot that made your vision blur, pulling another cry from your lips. “come on, use your words.”

“hmph—i need you to fuck me,” you whined, your voice trembling with desperation. the words barely left your lips before a sharp gasp escaped you, rafe’s fingers suddenly speeding up, plunging deeper as his thumb pressed harder against your clit.

“yeah?” he rasped, his voice thick with lust, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he watched the way your body writhed beneath his touch. “you want me to fuck you, baby? want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?”

you could only nod, your breath hitching as his fingers worked you relentlessly, your hips bucking against his hand. his cock twitched again, painfully hard and pressed against you, and he groaned low in his throat. “you’re so fuckin’ needy,” he muttered, biting down lightly on your neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. “look at you, begging for it.”

your hands gripped his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as your legs started to shake, the tension in your core building to unbearable heights. “please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his movements didn’t relent. “please, rafe.”

“oh, i’ll fuck you,” he growled, pulling his hand away abruptly, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss of contact. before you could even voice a protest, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly so your legs wrapped securely around his waist. he pressed you harder against the cold tiles, his lips brushing your ear as he continued, “but you gotta cum for me first.”

his fingers slid back inside you, curling perfectly to hit that spot that had you gasping, your back arching against the wall. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing quick, tight circles that made your legs tremble around his hips.

“show me how bad you want it,” he growled, his pace relentless, his voice rough and commanding. the intensity of his touch had you spiraling in no time, your body writhing against his as heat coiled low in your stomach.

you clung to his shoulders as you fell apart, crying out his name so loudly it echoed off the shower walls. “rafe!” you gasped, your body shaking as the waves of your release crashed over you, leaving you a trembling mess in his arms.

he didn’t stop, drawing out every second of your orgasm until you were practically sobbing from the pleasure. a smug grin spread across his face as he watched you, his chest heaving against yours. “that’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone laced with pride.

he slowly pulled his fingers from you, glistening with your release, and without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied groan. his eyes darkened as he savored the taste, his grin widening. “so sweet,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

he tightened his hold on you, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to create the space you needed. your shaky fingers trailed down between your bodies, wrapping around his swollen, throbbing cock. his breath hitched, and a low, guttural moan escaped his lips as you pumped him a few times, feeling the heat and weight of him against your palm.

“fuck,” rafe muttered, his head dropping to your shoulder as his fingers dug into your skin, the tension in his body palpable. “you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

you smirked faintly, your confidence bolstered by his reaction, before guiding him to your entrance. the blunt head of his cock brushed against your slick folds, and you both let out soft, shaky breaths as the anticipation built between you.

he pushed forward just enough for the thick, swollen tip of his cock to slip into your warmth, pulling a moan from both of you. the stretch was intoxicating, the way he filled you so slowly making your breath hitch.

“fuck,” rafe groaned, his voice rough and strained as he paused, savoring the way you clenched around him. his forehead pressed against yours, his hot breath mingling with yours as he struggled to hold himself back. “so tight. so perfect for me.”

your hips shifted instinctively, urging him deeper as a needy whimper escaped your lips. “rafe, please,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “i need you.”

his jaw tightened, and he smirked faintly, though his restraint was hanging by a thread. “yeah? you want all of me?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pressed a kiss to your parted lips, stealing your breath.

rafe groaned deeply as he pushed in further, the warmth of you pulling him in like a vice. every inch he gave you sent sparks shooting through your body, and the stretch had your head falling back against the cold tile, a desperate moan spilling from your lips.

“fuck,” he hissed, his jaw tightening as he bottomed out, your walls squeezing him so perfectly it nearly made him lose his mind. “you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. like you were made for me.”

you could barely respond, your breath hitching as he stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him. his hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you steady against the tiles as his lips found your neck, biting and sucking softly, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched.

“move,” you finally gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as the ache turned into pure, unfiltered need. “rafe, please.”

he pulled back just enough to tease you, his cock dragging along your walls in a way that made your toes curl before slamming back into you, forcing a loud cry from your lips.

“that’s it,” he growled, finding a rhythm that had the obscene sound of skin against skin echoing in the shower. his grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with a hunger that made your head spin. “let me hear you, pretty girl. let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

rafe’s pace grew relentless, his hips snapping against yours with precision, each thrust driving him deeper until he was brushing that perfect spot inside you over and over. your body arched against the tiles, your hands clawing at his back as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

“rafe,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pressure inside you built to an almost unbearable peak. the sound of his grunts and the wet slaps of your bodies filled the air, mingling with your desperate cries. “i can’t—oh my god, i—”

“yes, you can,” rafe growled, his voice dark and commanding as his thumb found your clit, rubbing firm, tight circles that sent you spiraling. “you’re gonna give me everything, princess. let it all go.”

you clenched tightly around him, your body trembling as the heat in your core exploded, and with a broken cry, the release hit you hard. the gush of liquid that followed was undeniable, coating rafe’s abdomen and making him groan loudly, his pace faltering for just a second.

“fuck, baby,” he hissed, his voice laced with awe and arousal as he felt you squirting around him, the sheer intensity of your release pushing him closer to the edge. “look at you, soaking me. so fuckin’ perfect.”

your legs trembled around his waist, your head falling back against the tiles as aftershocks coursed through you. but rafe didn’t stop. he kept his hips moving, chasing his own release as his hands gripped your ass tightly, holding you against him.

he groaned as he slammed into you one last time, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you. his grip on you tightened as he buried himself as deep as possible, his breath ragged against your neck.

your body went limp in his arms, both of you trembling from the intensity of what just happened.

he leaned his forehead against yours, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he caught his breath. “never getting over that,” he muttered, his voice filled with pride. “you’re fuckin’ unreal.”

your cheeks warmed instantly at the reminder of what had just happened, and you groaned softly, covering your face with both hands in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. “shut up,” you mumbled, your voice muffled behind your palms.

rafe laughed, a low, satisfied sound, before carefully helping you back onto your feet. your legs trembled slightly, but his steady hands on your hips kept you balanced. once you were stable, he reached up to gently pull your hands away from your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back just enough to look at you. “means i did something right.”

your eyes narrowed playfully, and you smacked his chest with a laugh. “rafe!”

he chuckled, rubbing the spot where your hand landed as if it actually hurt. “what? just sayin’.” his smirk widened, and the way he was looking at you—with that cocky, yet adoring gleam in his eyes—had your heart fluttering despite yourself.

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you and rafe were still giggling over some inside joke as you made your way into the living room, his arm lazily draped around your waist, his hand resting instinctively on your hip. but the laughter died on your lips the moment you noticed your friends sitting on the couches, their expressions ranging from awkward to downright tense.

rafe’s brows furrowed immediately, his grip on your hip tightening slightly as his eyes flicked between them. “how the fuck did you guys get in?” he asked sharply, his tone clipped.

sarah cleared her throat, clearly the one to break the silence as she held up a familiar house key. her lips were pressed into a tight line,

her eyes avoiding yours. “i still have my key,” she said quietly, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you glanced between sarah and the rest of the pogues. their silence spoke volumes, and rafe’s jaw tightened beside you, his protectiveness radiating off him in waves. he stared them down, clearly less than thrilled about the uninvited intrusion.

“is there a reason you’re all just… sitting here?” rafe asked, his tone touched with impatience as his gaze lingered pointedly on sarah.

pope shifted awkwardly in his seat, his tone measured as he explained, “we knocked at first, but since no one answered, we thought something was wrong.”

before you could respond, jj piped up with his signature sarcasm. “jesus, bro, we thought you were killing her in there.”

your gasp was immediate, your cheeks heating with mortification as you stammered, “jj!” you quickly brought your hands to your face, covering it in embarrassment.

rafe, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. his lips curled into a smug smirk, his hand tightening on your hip in a way that made your stomach flip. “if i was,” he drawled cockily, “she was screaming for the right reasons.”

“rafe!” you hissed, swatting his chest in mortified protest. his chuckle only deepened, clearly unbothered by the tension in the room. jj snorted, shaking his head in amusement, while sarah groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to physically block out the mental image.

“can we not?” sarah muttered, her voice low and dripping with exasperation. “i’m already traumatized enough as it is.”

rafe shot her an amused grin, his hand still possessively resting on your hip. “you’re traumatized? imagine how i feel, dealing with all of you breaking into my house.”

jj leaned back on the couch, throwing an arm over the backrest with an exaggerated shrug. “oh, come on, man. we knocked. you didn’t answer, and honestly, from all that ruckus i don’t blame—” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before you cut in.

your cheeks burned hotter, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “oh my god, can we talk about literally anything else?”

“agreed,” sarah interjected quickly, shooting jj a death glare before turning her sharp gaze to rafe. “we didn’t come here for… this. we came because we have a problem to deal with. remember?” her tone turned serious, and the atmosphere in the room shifted.

rafe’s smirk faded instantly, his expression hardening as he stood a little straighter. “what problem?” he asked, his grip on your hip tightening protectively, his eyes narrowing as they locked on his sister.

“we might have a lead,” kie said, her voice cautious as her eyes flickered between you and rafe. “and it’s got more people involved than we think, i’m sure.”

rafe groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair before sinking onto the couch, pulling you down to sit beside him. his hand rested protectively on your thigh as if grounding himself. sarah’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the subtle action, but she chose not to comment. instead, she simply observed, noting how much rafe’s demeanor had shifted in the past few weeks. he cared—more than she’d expected him to.

“so who’s the lead?” rafe snapped, his tone impatient as he looked around the room, waiting for someone to speak up.

after a moment of silence, john b finally answered, “we think it’s barry.”

the name was barely out of john b’s mouth when rafe’s entire demeanor changed. his eyes blazed with fury, his jaw tightening as his hand gripped your thigh. “i’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“rafe, wait,” sarah interjected quickly, holding up her hands as if to calm him. “we don’t know for sure yet.”

“i don’t need to know for sure,” rafe snapped back, his tone laced with venom. “if barry’s even remotely involved in this, he’s dead.” his leg bounced with barely contained energy, his rage practically vibrating off of him.

“look, we’re all pissed,” pope said, his voice firm but measured. “but if we go in guns blazing without proof, we’re just gonna make it worse.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he fought to rein in his temper. “he’s not getting away with this,” he muttered darkly, his gaze flicking to you briefly, softening for just a moment before hardening again. “not after what he’s done.”

“you said there were more people involved,” you finally spoke up, your voice soft but steady as your fingers absentmindedly traced soothing patterns on rafe’s knuckles. his hand had been clenched into a tight fist, but your touch seemed to ease some of the tension, his grip relaxing slightly under your gentle movements.

all eyes turned to kie, who nodded slowly. “we’re not sure how many, but it’s definitely not just barry,” she explained. “the way the video spread so fast, the timing—it’s organized. someone else is pulling strings here.”

rafe let out a low growl, his jaw tightening again. “so who the fuck else is it?” he demanded, his voice sharp and filled with impatience.

“we don’t know yet,” john b admitted, his tone cautious. “but if it’s barry, then it’s probably someone he’s working with. he doesn’t have the brains to pull something like this off on his own.”

“or the resources,” pope added, leaning forward with a frown. “he’s got connections, but not that kind of reach.”

you glanced at rafe, watching the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to rein in his anger. his knuckles had whitened from the tension in his fists, so you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grounding him. “do you think it’s a kook?” you asked softly, your gaze flicking between him and the rest of the group.

“one hundred percent,” jj cut in before rafe could answer, his tone dripping with disdain. “it always fuckin’ is.” he leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms as he shot a glare toward sarah, almost as if it were her fault by association.

sarah rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply. “not every kook is out to ruin your life, jj.”

“no, just the ones we keep having to deal with,” he shot back, his voice filled with sarcasm. “you can’t sit there and tell me it’s not a rich prick playing their stupid games.”

“jj, come on,” kie interjected, her tone firm but measured. “this isn’t the time for finger-pointing.”

“i’m not pointing fingers. i’m stating facts,” jj muttered, his eyes darting to rafe with a slight smirk, the tension palpable. “but hey, maybe lover boy over here can tell us which one of his old kook buddies likes playing stalker.”

rafe’s hand tightened in yours at the jab, his knuckles turning white. his eyes locked on jj, his tone sharp and dangerous as he shot back, “if i knew, then you wouldn’t be sitting on my couch.”

jj raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still playing on his lips. “easy. just saying, you might want to start with your crew. i’m sure barry’s not the only one who’d love to see you squirm.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, his breathing steady but filled with tension. you squeezed his hand gently, your thumb brushing soothing circles over his skin, grounding him before he could escalate things further. “jj,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warning, “not helping.”

“what?” jj shrugged, leaning back casually. “i’m just being honest.”

“honest or not, we don’t need to start a fight,” kie interjected, giving jj a pointed look. “we’re here to figure this out, not throw punches.”

“yet,” rafe muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear. you glanced up at him, catching the flicker of anger in his eyes. despite the tension radiating off him, the way he stayed seated and quiet told you he was trying—trying to keep himself in check, for you.

you sighed softly, your eyes flickering down to your lap as your thoughts raced. the room was still thick with tension, everyone quietly waiting for the next lead, the next idea. then, a name surfaced in your mind. the name that had haunted you since this all started. your throat tightened as you hesitated, but you knew you had to say it.

“what about stacy?” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

the room went silent, the weight of the name settling over everyone like a dark cloud. rafe’s grip on your hand tightened instinctively, his jaw clenching as his head turned sharply to look at you. “stacy?” he repeated, his voice low and cautious, though you could feel the storm brewing behind his words.

you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. “that day at the country club,” you murmured. “she probably saw us together at the beach. and after… everything with you and her dad… i don’t know, it just feels like she might have a reason.”

rafe sighed heavily, his jaw tightening as he shook his head. “baby, not this again. i told you—“

“i’m not saying it to start an argument,” you cut him off, your tone firmer now. “i’m saying it because i’ve always had a weird feeling about her, and it just seems too convenient. think about it, rafe. it’s obvious she wants you, and who knows how far she’s willing to go to get you.”

your words hung in the air, the room going still as everyone absorbed what you’d just said. rafe’s gaze softened slightly, his hand brushing over yours in an attempt to calm you. “i told you, stacy’s nothing to me,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “she’s not a threat.”

“but what if she is?” you countered, finally meeting his eyes. “we can’t just ignore this because you don’t think she’d go that far. we have to consider it, especially if she’s been watching us.”

rafe’s expression hardened as he processed your words, his jaw tightening. “okay,” he finally said, his voice low but resolute. “we’ll look into it.”

you nodded, encouraged by his response, and pressed on. “and especially since you said her dad’s company is your family’s biggest competitor,” you continued, your voice steady despite the emotions simmering beneath the surface. “putting out a video like that? it would ruin everything—for you, for me, for the cameron name. it makes sense.”

sarah leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in thought. “she’s got the motive,” she said, her tone thoughtful but sharp. “if she’s working with barry or someone else, she’d have the connections to pull this off. and she’s petty enough to do it.”

kie nodded in agreement, crossing her arms. “it’s not just about you two, either. if her dad’s in on this, he’d see this as a way to take a shot at the whole cameron empire. barry could be the perfect tool for that.”

you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair, trying to steady your spiraling thoughts. deep down, you knew stacy was behind this. your instincts screamed it, pointing at her with flashing lights and blaring alarms. every interaction you’d ever had with her, every sidelong glance and calculated move, seemed to line up perfectly with what was happening now. but you couldn’t let your emotions or personal bias cloud your judgment—not when so much was at stake.

no matter how much you despised her, you needed proof. assumptions wouldn’t get you anywhere, and acting on feelings alone could backfire. you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a deep breath, your fingers still tangled in your hair as you glanced around the room.

“we can’t jump to conclusions,” you said finally, your voice quieter but firm. “even if it feels obvious, we need evidence. if we accuse the wrong person, it could make everything worse.”

rafe’s eyes flicked to yours, his gaze softening slightly at your visible stress. “then we get the evidence,” he said simply, his voice steady.

“we’ll figure it out,” sarah reassured, giving you a small nod. “if it’s stacy, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away with this.”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to push your emotions aside. you had to stay focused. if stacy was behind this, she wouldn’t just regret it—you’d make sure of it.

it was her. it had to be.

hours passed, and the pogues eventually went home. to your surprise, none of them brought up you and rafe, even during the moments he retreated elsewhere briefly. they acted perfectly normal about it, which somehow unsettled you more than if they’d confronted you outright. the silence felt heavier than words.

rafe had left you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket tucked beneath your chin. now, he sat in his office, his jaw tight as he scrolled through emails from rob—each one filled with dead ends and pointless leads. his stress was evident, his hand dragging down his face in frustration while his leg bounced uncontrollably beneath the desk.

his eyes flicked to the painting on the wall, knowing exactly what was behind it: the safe that held passports, emergency cash, and, most importantly, his gun. john b’s words replayed in his mind like a broken record: we think it’s barry.

without hesitation, rafe stood abruptly, striding over to the painting and pulling it aside. he opened the safe, the cold steel of the gun feeling heavy and familiar in his grip. his mind was set.

walking out to the living room, he paused when his eyes landed on you. you were sound asleep on the couch, your blanket pulled up to your chin, lips parted as soft, even breaths escaped them. the sight of you like this—so peaceful, so unaware of the storm brewing in his chest—made him falter for a moment.

but then, his jaw tightened, and his grip on the gun firmed. he leaned against the doorway, watching you for another moment before turning away, his mind already spiraling with what he needed to do next.

you groaned softly, the buzzing of your phone vibrating underneath your pillow pulling you from your sleep. your eyes squinted as you grabbed it, reading the contact on the screen. it didn’t have a name, just a random number, but below it read maybe: kildare police department.

your heart hammered in your chest as you hesitated before pressing the green button and holding the phone to your ear. “hello?” you asked, your voice groggy and uneasy.

“hey, baby,” a familiar voice greeted, and your stomach dropped.

“rafe?” you stammered, your heart racing as panic crept in. “what’s—”

before you could finish, your phone buzzed again, vibrating against your ear. you pulled it away and gasped softly, your breath catching in your throat as the notification popped up.

unknown: your boyfriend shouldn’t have done that. now you’re all alone.

unknown: one image attachment.

with trembling fingers, you opened the photo, only to feel your entire body freeze. it was a picture of you, taken in the exact spot you were sitting right now. it captured the moment you had picked up your phone, your expression clear and startled.

your blood ran cold as you instinctively glanced around the room, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. someone was watching you. someone was here.

“i’m sorry to do this to you, but can you come pick—” rafe began, his voice heavy with frustration as he sighed into the phone. sheriff shoup stood nearby, giving him a disapproving look, clearly unimpressed with his request.

before rafe could finish, your voice came through the line, frantic and low, cutting him off mid-sentence. “rafe! someone’s here. they sent me a picture of me at the house—”

the line suddenly went dead.

rafe froze, the color draining from his face as the silence on the other end of the call sank in. his grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as panic surged through him. “no, no, no,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

he didn’t even bother explaining to shoup before bolting out the door, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. whoever had sent you that picture wasn’t just threatening anymore—they were acting.

and you were alone.

© aerialmirrorss

taglist!: @whatrulookingat11 @ipromiseidk @rrosiitas @percysley @pinklleemonade @tincanhat @chenslucy @furiouscopshepherduniversity @vanessa-rafesgirl @amel1ee @lxvrgirl @munsoncultedits @honeyluvsatj @esquivelbianca @k3nz13a @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @fallingwallsh @landososcar @bambiangels @witchmoon10 @harrys-housewife @littlelamy @fruitcakerafe @stylesbarnesmaybankstarkeymunson @ariana2saucyy @valsmotive @folksmione @prettybabyyyy @wolfstarsimpxx @devinefem @mastylespost @drewwhore @promiscuousg1rl @uhhsoph @aesthetic-lyss @lossfairy @belledawnidk @psychiceaglepeach @yourcrackleflame @ayy1234567

[wandascosmic]

hii! could you write one with kinda emo aou wanda, with i hate everyone but you vibes, dating reader who’s more popular than wanda? just their cute little moments together

because of you (request)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: in which wanda was initially the prickly new member of the avengers, however you quickly became her greatest friend.

word count: 1416

tags: unedited, fluff, wanda's got a huge crush on you, a little bit of i hate everyone but you vibes but i've never really written it before so i hope i did you justice!! emo wanda being the little baby we all love (this is also like my sorta first time writing emo wanda too so my writing horizons expanded quite a bit with this request, she's genuinely just very cute though

“You have to be cheating,” Sam says angrily, slumping on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest, slamming his controller down beside him. 

“Nope,” you respond with a grin, pleased with yourself for beating Sam at yet another video game. “You just suck.” 

Sam narrows his eyes, before rising up once again in determination. “One more round, only this time you’re handicapped by giving me a five second head start.” 

“Sure,” you agree, already prepared to win for the 15th time in a row. 

However, before you and Sam can start your video game, a tired Sokovian witch makes her way into the living room. 

“Oh, hey, Wanda,” Sam says to your girlfriend who stands beside you, immediately wrapping her arms around your shoulder. 

Wanda ignores him, and instead asks you, “Where were you?” against your neck.

“I promised Sam I would play Mario Kart with him last night,” you explain. “I bet him 50 bucks I could win 10 rounds in a row, and guess what, I’m at 70 now!” 

“Not for long!” Sam interrupts. 

“Want to stay and watch?” you ask Wanda, who hesitates for a split second, not really wanting the company of anyone else except for you, but ends up agreeing with a small nod.

You shift over on the couch to make room for her, and she immediately sits down and rests her head on your shoulder while you begin another round against Sam. 

You end up winning about 150 bucks that day. 

***

Wanda had been part of the team for about 7 months now, and you had quickly become her closest friend in the first 2. 

Wanda, at her most vulnerable and lowest moments was still riding on a lot of the guilt from Ultron, add the fact that she had just lost her only family member and best friend, and the fact that she was already a bit prickly to begin with, it was safe to say that the majority of the team was too scared of what could happen to them if they even attempted to get close to her. 

Wanda was okay with that at the time, she wanted the freedom to grieve without the added pressure of someone counting on her.

However, you were an exception. 

You broke down the walls that had been built so far up after lost plagued Wanda’s life.

Every time she would protest, you stayed, no matter what.

She was a mess, and over time you became her safe haven.

You helped her grieve, helped her overcome her anger, her sadness, and you became her hope. 

Now, Wanda could never get enough of you.

You were her best friend, and she was yours. 

Wanda was eternally grateful for your existence.

“Y/N?” Wanda asked, one month into your friendship you laying on her shoulder watching the sitcom on the TV from her bed. 

“Hm?” you responded. 

“Thank you,” Wanda said, hoping you could understand every single hidden word she wanted to convey as best she could.

You smiled up at her, “Anytime.” 

***

“Wow, Wanda, what’s got you so grumpy?” Tony asks, noticing Wanda’s very apparent frown. 

“She hasn’t seen Y/N in two days,” Nat says with a grin. “Y/N’s mission from Monday got extended last night, so now she won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” 

Wanda glared at Natasha before going back to pouring her cereal. 

“Come on, Nat,” Steve says as he walks in. “I think it’s sweet.” 

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t,” Natasha says, holding up her hands in surrender. 

Wanda’s frown deepened, despite the truthfulness to everything they were saying. 

“Come on, Wanda,” Steve said as he came around the counter to pat the witch on her back. “Just one more day.” 

Wanda nodded quietly, making her way back to her bedroom to eat her cereal and wait for your return.

***

You came back at 6AM, and your face softened as you saw Wanda laying on top of your covers, very clearly having been waiting for your return by the sitcom still running on your TV in the background. 

Carefully you kneeled beside her on the bed, gently shaking her awake. 

Wanda stirred awake slowly, looking around disoriented before she saw your face, her eyes lighting up and immediately wrapping her arms around you. “You’re back,” she whispered. 

“I was only gone 3 days,” you reply in amusement.

“Don’t care,” Wanda says, hugging you tighter. 

You hug her back in return, letting go after a few minutes to go take a shower and change into your pajamas, and Wanda doing the same. 

Then, at 6:30AM, the two of you go to bed together, and spend the rest of the day wrapped in each other’s arms. 

***

“So, what is it you want my help with?” Natasha asks, secretly gleeful at seeing the shy side of Wanda for once behind all her sharp edges. 

“I want you to help me set up Y/N’s birthday party,” Wanda says shyly, looking down at her shoes. 

“Oh, Wanda, we’re gonna have a blast,” Natasha replies, walking over to Wanda and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leading her to go grab the supplies. 

***

Wanda would never admit it, except maybe to you, but she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for your birthday.

You had been the only one to help her when she needed it, and every time she felt like she was too sharp, too mean, too prickly, you accepted her with unwavering kindness.

You were the only thing that made Wanda feel seen after Pietro’s death. 

And so, she needed you to see how grateful she was with everything inside of her. 

“Okay, so we’re gonna get balloons, streamers, the food and drinks, cutlery, decorations, then the cake tomorrow?” Wanda asks Natasha as the two grab everything for your birthday tomorrow.

“Yep, Tony’s money is finally going towards something useful,” Natasha says, making Wanda look over towards her curiously. “Your love for your girlfriend,” she explains.

Wanda slaps Nat’s arm in return, though she does end up blushing for the next 5 minutes. 

***

“Oh, god, what if she doesn’t like it?” Wanda asks, nervous since it’s only one hour before you’re supposed to arrive back at the compound.

Natasha pats Wanda on the back reassuringly. “It’s gonna be fine, Wanda. Truthfully it came from you, and she loves anything you do for her no matter what.” 

Wanda nods, nervously playing with her rings in anticipation.

“Can she hurry back already,” Sam groans. “I wanna eat the cake already. Wanda glares angrily at him. 

“Careful, Sam,” Nat warns playfully. “If you mess that cake up a single bit Wanda might magic you into a pickled herring.” 

Sam looks over to Wanda who’s eyes glow red in a threatening manner. 

Sam holds up his arms in surrender. 

Wanda ends up switching between being nervous and stopping Sam, Bucky, and Tony from accidentally doing something that might harm your party, and suddenly an hour has gone by.

“Y/N’s on her way back right now!” Tony calls out after asking FRIDAY. “She’s gonna be up here in two minutes!” 

“Okay, everyone hide!” Natasha yells out, grabbing Wanda to hide with her behind the counter as everyone sprawls out across the upstairs floor. 

“Please say she likes it, please say she likes it,” Wanda mutters under her breath in her hiding place so no one can hear her.

Though Nat’s absurdly good hearing foils her plan. “She’ll love it, Wanda.” 

Wanda hums in response, taking a reassuring breath before waiting to surprise you. 

“Thirty seconds everyone!” Tony calls out after FRIDAY notifies him on his watch.

3…2…1…

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Everyone calls out after you finally make your way up the stairs.

You barely register the shock before you’re smiling widely. 

“This was all Wanda,” Nat tells you, causing you to look towards the witch who looks incredibly sheepish.

“Everyone helped,” Wanda mumbles.

“Really?” you shake your head before making your way over to your girlfriend and kissing her fiercely. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“I needed a way to show you how grateful I am that you saved me,” Wanda tells you.

“Well, you saved me too,” you reply. “You made everything so much better.” 

Wanda’s eyes light up at your confession, and she hugs you tightly, causing you to laugh and wrap your arms around her. 

“Now, how about we enjoy my birthday together, hm? This will be the best one yet because of you.”

[milkbobatyun]

a ghost of his past

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: even in his dreams, his past haunts him.

word count: 630

a/n: which clown pulled for dan heng IL just because his design was really pretty? totally not me !! n e ways take this attempt at a dan heng fic.

the gentle, quiet melody of the CD was seeping into the sleeping quarters of the astral express. its inhabitants were deep in sleep. suddenly, with a horrid screech, it halts. an unnerving silence settled over the sleeping quarters. when the disk starts revolving again, a haunting xiaozhou melody sings from the player.

dan heng lies asleep in his bed, where he finds himself in his own dreamscape. a ghost of a figure haunts his, no, dan feng’s dreams.

they stare into his soul with lifeless eyes, silent in their approach.

even without the memories of his past lives, he knew who you were. his lover. or rather, dan feng’s. his gentle, beautiful lover, who offered him unconditional affection, who was always so understanding of him.

you, whose soft hands brushed at his tears when they fell, massaged away the headaches that accompanied the arduous role of being a high elder. 

your love story was spread far and wide in the xianzhou. many children and young couples aspired to have such a fantastical and romantic love. the two of you were the envies of all lovers. the citizens watched as their high elder, always so cold and judicial in his mannerisms, would soften and gaze at you with the warmest look in his eyes, how the fearsome dragon elder became but a mere puppy in your presence.

in danheng’s fragmented dreams, short films of your love played before him, reminding him of every tender moment. times where you were his sole supporter and believer. the seconds of eternity where you would sneak into his office, a boxed lunch, fresh from the stove, cradled in your hands.

the dreams were bright and warm, like the soft touch of spring, flowers booming in his chest.

the fragile flowers, their buds just beginning to bloom, are swallowed by the cold touch of frost, the lively blooms blackening and withering.

in danheng’s fragmented nightmares, he caught glimpses of your demise. your warped screams echo in his mind, bloody hands clawing at the hem of his coat. he hears your voice, begging for mercy.

the nightmares were cold and lonely, like ice seeping into his veins, cutting into his soul and heart.

as he dreams, blade’s voice echoes in his mind.

“you always knew the price better than any of us.” he hissed, his voice a serpent’s hiss, slithering in his thoughts. “that’s why you sacrificed her.”

“you killed her, for the sake of your planet.” blade taunted, his laugh grating in danheng’s ear. “YOU KILLED HER, WITH YOUR OWN TWO HANDS.”

dan heng squeezed his eyes shut, the blackness of his dreamscape pressing in on him, suffocating him. he covered his ears with his hands, tugging and clawing at his hair, to get your echoing screams out of his mind.

he felt a warm liquid running between his fingers. dan heng held his trembling hands in front of him, watching as blood stained his hands, the bloody spear gripped with shaking fingers.

kneeling by his feet was your lifeless body, a bloody hole where your heart should be.  your eyes are fixed ahead, mouth contorting into words that cut his heart deeper than any sword.

“dan feng. how could you.” you breathed, eyes swimming with hurt. “i thought you loved me.”

with a start, dan heng woke from his dreams. the xianzhou lullaby ceases.

drawing his knees up to his chest, dan heng presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“spare me, please,” dan heng pleads to the empty room. “let me forget my past.”

no one responds, but in the depths of his mind, he seems to hear a soft whisper.

“i’m sorry…please don’t forget me.”

the room was silent, but the weight of his past lay burdened on dan heng’s mind.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

[moremaybank]

STAKE YOUR CLAIM — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary jj isn’t happy when he finds out you’ve been sleeping with other people on the island, so he’s sure to set the record straight. you’re his, and his only.

warnings unprotected sex, possessive!jj, slapping, choking, spitting, degrading, bondage, breeding, marking, dacryphilia, semi-public sex, anal fingering

author’s note special thanks to @blueicequeen19 for this request. you pulled this out of me and i’m eternally grateful, babe ♡︎ i hope you like ittt

jj masterlist

The air is charged with tension as JJ’s hand closes around your wrist, his grip firm as he leads you away from the crowd of the party and into an unoccupied room. His jaw is set, and you can feel the anger simmering off his tan skin. 

“Damn it, J, let go of me,” you demand, trying to tug your wrist free from his grasp. 

JJ’s grip only tightens. He shoves you into the empty dining room and slams the door behind you, locking it shut. He turns to you, his eyes burning deep into your soul.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“Don’t play dumb. Don’t act like this is all on me,” JJ snarls. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? You can’t just let anyone touch you, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” Your voice rose. “You don’t get to control who I see or what I do. We aren’t exclusive, JJ. I’m not yours.”

JJ’s jaw clenches, and his fists ball at his sides. He steps closer to you, and you back up until your back hits the large wooden table behind you. “Try again, sweetheart. You are. Don't make me knock you up to prove it to you.”

You scoff and try to shove past him so you can leave, but JJ doesn’t make it easy for you. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he states. His hands find their grip on your hips, and his index fingers dart out to tease the hem of your skirt. Goosebumps form on your skin at the contact, and you mentally curse yourself for always reacting to his touch that way. It’s like your body knows it needs him to feel alive. His eyes find yours once again. “You're such a whore, you'll let anyone inside that pussy, won't you? Kook. Pogue. Touron. Doesn't matter does it?” 

“Fuck you,” you spit. “Who I sleep with is none of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, baby.” He pulls your skirt and panties down with one harsh yank and lets them pool around your ankles on the floor. Then, he tugs your tube top down, revealing your bare tits. His fingers pinch your nipples fiercely, and you bite back a moan. “You’ll never need anyone else but me. You understand?”

You don’t respond. You can’t even look him in the eye. It’s crazy how far he can push you and still have you coming back for more each time. No one makes your heart race the way he does. No one gets you soaked and makes you scream the way he does. He’s animalistic and unforgiving with how he fucks you, and that’s just how you like him. He knows it, too, and he isn’t afraid to use that against you.

His hand curls around your throat, and your eyes unwillingly find his. “No one gets to touch you. No one but me.”

JJ lets go, and you watch as he undoes his belt and slides it out of the loops of his shorts. One hand draws your wrists in front of you, and the other works quickly as he loops the leather around them. He fastens it as tight as it can go. Then, in a swift motion, he has your back flat against the table, and your restrained wrists above your head. He mutters an order to keep them there, and he quickly moves to spread your legs. 

“‘M gonna get an apology from you whether you like it or not. You really shouldn’t be this greedy, baby.” You’re already wet, and JJ can feel it when he slaps your pussy. You mewl as the sensation tingles and stings at your core. He slaps it over and over again, relishing in the cries he’s already pulling from you while barely doing anything. You squirm, trying to move your hands to get him to hold off, but his free hand keeps them pressed to the wood. 

The more he continues, the more pitiful you become. You're crying out, and your cunt is all swollen and hot. You're pleading for more friction, more sensation, anything, but JJ's enjoying your sounds far too much to stop.

“That hurt, baby?” He asks, his tone condescending, completed with a sadistic smirk. You nod, and he lets out a taunting whine. “You sure? ‘Cause you're soaking my hand so much that it's dripping. Your pussy's giving you away, sweetheart.”

You feel insane. How could he have this much power over you? Turning you into a crying mess and making you look forward to his punishments like this? You must be brainwashed. Or maybe, JJ’s a sorcerer. Either way, his metaphorical and physical hold on you has you locked in for life. 

Once he deems that you’ve had enough, he smacks your ass harshly from the side, before using both hands to spread you open more. He ducks his head down and licks a stripe up your pussy, tasting your sweetness as it coats his tongue.

“God, I wanna ruin this pussy, baby. Ruin it for you, and for anyone that tries to compete with me. I want you to cum so much that it hurts, wanna see those pretty tears run down your cheeks. I'm gonna fuck you ‘til you pass out and then wake you back up with my cock buried inside you.” 

One hand frees his cock, and he gives you no warning as he slams inside of you. He’s so deep that you can feel his tight balls against you. He’s also stretching you so wide that you feel like he’s piercing you. His hips pick up a relentless pace, his hips snapping against yours so hard that the table shakes beneath you. 

“So fuckin’ tight, feels like you’re tryin’ to push me out, pretty girl,” he grits. His hand finds your throat again, squeezing as he fucks you into the hard surface. Your core is burning at how forcefully he’s rutting into you, but the ache is so addicting. Your legs are squirming, trying to find the strength to wrap around JJ’s midsection, but you can’t. JJ notices, and he laughs at the look on your face. “Learning your lesson, aren’t you?”

JJ’s right hand comes up as he slaps your cheek, not too hard but hard enough to make heat rise. “Tell daddy you’re sorry. Maybe I’ll take it easy on you.”

All you can manage is a whine, a strained mm leaving your lips as you screw your eyes shut. This only makes JJ worse. Your eyes shoot back open when he slaps you again. “Say it,” he commands. 

“‘M s-sorry, daddy.”

“No,” he tuts as he squeezes your throat harder and slightly cutting off your air. “Louder.”

“I’m sorry, daddy!”

He spits in your face and grins wickedly when he sees you lick up what you can. “Now beg me to let you cum.”

He pulls you up, his hand curling around the back of your neck while the other holds your leg around his waist, keeping you open. His pelvis smacks against your far-past-swollen clit. Tears well in your eyes, and your wrists begin to burn as the leather rubs them raw. You’re trying to free yourself so you can brace yourself on something. You’re unlucky and unable to do so, just as JJ planned. 

“P-please, daddy. Let me cum, it h-hurts,” you hiccup. Your doe eyes stare up at him as he fucks you with reckless abandon, unfazed by your pleas. 

“Aw, you wanna cum, sweet girl? Not yet. ‘M gonna make you wait.” The bastard becomes even more cocky if possible, and leers at you. “You wanna know why?” 

You whine, the tears starting to slip past your eyes as you try to keep your sanity intact. JJ inches closer to your face, gnawing on your bottom lip and drawing it out before releasing it with a snap. 

“‘Cause I love how pathetic and dumb you sound when you beg for me.”

JJ Maybank is evil. You’ve known it for a while, but his actions today only solidify it. You could be as good as you wanted for him, but the patronizing son of a bitch will never admit defeat. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, exactly how he wished to. 

By now, your entire body is convulsing, and you’re void of any energy. JJ knows this, of course. He loops your bound wrists around the back of his neck and scoops you up in his arms. He walks over to one of the walls surrounding you both, and he practically slams your back against it. His cock splits you in half with each hard thrust. His hands migrate to the back of your thighs, spreading you as he pounds you into the surface.

“I can’t hold it anymore, daddy. It hurts, n-need to cum so— so bad,” you plead. You can’t keep your eyes open anymore. You’re trying like hell, but it just isn’t happening.

“Too bad, baby. You aren’t cumming until I say so.”

Your head leans to one side as you begin to sob. The burn in your core is about to take you out. You can feel it. It’s fiery, and threatening to give out. It only worsens when JJ’s teeth come into contact with the sensitive skin of your neck. He sucks and nips at it harshly, pulling at it and leaving his mark anywhere he can manage. He feels you clamping down on him, smirking evilly when he pulls out of you abruptly. 

“‘M not gonna let you win that easy, baby.” 

He sets you down on the rug near the table, your knees digging into the fabric. Your arms stretch above your head once more. JJ kneels behind you, spreading your cheeks so he can spit onto your puckered hole. He pops a finger in, and pushes his cock into your pussy again. His hips move at warp speed, and you’re on the verge of being fucked brainless. He’s smacking your ass and finger-fucking your ass as he pummels into you. You’re screaming at this point, mascara tears running down your cheeks and soaking the carpet beneath you. 

“Beg me for my fucking cum. I know you want it,” he grits. 

“Oh, god! Please, daddy!”

“Again,” he demands. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Give me your cum. Give me your fucking cum. Pleasepleaseplease.” Your throat is sore, so so raw from the sobs and JJ’s grip on it earlier. You’re sure there’ll be some bruising when you’re done. “Need it, daddy, please.”

“Fuck. Those cries are too pretty, makin’ me so hard. Wanna keep hearin’ ‘em. Keep cryin’, princess.” 

He doesn’t really have to ask because they’ll pour out of you whether you control it or not. Your vision is going black, your entire body limp as you lie there and let him use you. 

“I’m gonna cum. Cum with me,” he says. He slams into you a few more times before his balls tighten, and before you know it, he’s spurting his seed into you with the most delicious groan you’ve ever heard. You finally cum, drunk from his cock and so far gone that you wonder if you’re even alive anymore. 

“You,” he pants, “need to piss me off more like that again.” He frees your hands, and lifts you, carrying you over to one of the chairs at the table. Your ass stings when you slump into your seat, and you hiss. JJ crouches down in front of you, wiping your tears and leaving soft kisses all over your body. The juxtaposition of his forceful demeanour to his now gentle one makes you dizzy. “You with me?”

You want to glare at him, slap his smug grin off his face even, but you can barely breathe. 

“You’re a fucking caveman.”

His dimple pops out, “And yet, you still let me fuck, didn’t you?” 

[sanemistar]

⋅˚₊‧ stuck in the middle

𝜗𝜚 starring: sanemi x fem!reader ft. genya 𝜗𝜚 genre: a mix of fluff and angst, slight swearing ﾉ wc: 1.k+ 𝜗𝜚 a/n: requested. sorry i took a lot of time writing this, but i hope you enjoy it !! 𝜗𝜚 back: kny m.list

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: knowing the shinazugawa brothers for a very long time, as sanemi’s girlfriend and an older sister figure to genya, you always find yourself stuck in the middle of their messy situation. trying to make ends meet in hopes of a reconciliation.

being sanemi’s longtime girlfriend, and an important older sister figure to genya, means that you’re always stuck in the middle of their messed up familial relationship trying to fix it. on one hand, there’s sanemi, who constantly pushes his little brother away from him while cruelly chasing him out of the demon slayer corps because he’s worried about him and wants him to live a happy normal life. although his ways aren’t the best, but his intentions are never malicious or bad. sanemi genuinely cares for genya, he just doesn’t know how to properly express himself.

“he should just fuckin’ quit being a slayer, this shit isn’t for him… he sucks ‘n can’t even use any breathing techniques! he clearly has no talent.” sanemi huffs in annoyance yet his face has worry written all over it, a contradictory expression to his harsh words. no matter how hard he tries, he can never hide that worried face.

“nemi, i know you’re trying to get genya out of harm’s way, but don’t you think you’re being too harsh on him? he just wants to make you proud.” you respond while placing a hand on top of his.

he knows that genya is doing all of this to get his recognition, but he doesn’t want him to risk his life for it. if one has to risk their life out of the two, it has to be sanemi. that’s what he thinks is best for both of them. he has never wanted genya to walk through such a dangerous path full of killing and death, he has never wanted his little brother to stain his hands with blood. he’s only sixteen, he has his whole life ahead of him. he should be living like any normal teenager his age.

“tch.. like the hell i’d care about a weakling like him.” he removes your hand and walks away. you sigh, knowing sanemi for so long, you know that it’s best to leave him alone to cool down at times like this.

you’re about to go outside when you hear the sound of footsteps heading towards you, and it’s sanemi.

“look i… i’m sorry for stormin’ on ya earlier, i let my anger get the best of me.” he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. he uses his other hand to lift your chin up, your eyes meet his. you can see the regret in his lilac eyes. contrary to common belief, sanemi is quite easy to read if you get to know him well. his expressions tell everything his tongue can’t. your hand finds a home on his scarred cheek as it begins caressing his cheek softly.

“it’s okay, nemi. i know how hard you’re trying to control yourself, and i accept you as you are.” the moment sanemi hears your words, he pulls you close to him in a tight hug. he lets a few tears fall down his cheeks. he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s eternally grateful for you choosing him despite all his imperfections.

“thank you.. and i love you.” he whispers softly and kisses the top of your head before leaving once again.

meanwhile, you head outside for fresh air as your feet involuntarily drag you to the training ground. you spot genya who’s, on the other hand, striving to be stronger so he can get his older brother to recognize his abilities. he’s there training all by himself in the empty training ground, and you’re pretty sure he’s been overworking himself without getting any breaks. so you decide to go and stop him. you head over to him with a towel in your hand.

“that’s enough training for today, overdoing it will do you more harm than good.” you concerningly say as you throw the soft piece of cloth on the top of his head, which takes genya by surprise.

“nee-chan… but i–” you interrupt him and snatch the wooden sword from his hands and place it on the side.

“not taking any buts, come here.” you pat on the empty space next to you, inviting genya to come sit next to you. he slightly hesitates, but eventually listens to you and rests his sore body next to you.

“i’m fully aware of my lack of abilities, which is why i need to work even harder so i don’t end up being a burden to my brother.. he has enough burden on his plate already, i don’t wanna add up to it. i wanna be able to protect him too.” genya begins expressing his concern as you attentively listen to every word.

“and because i’m currently weak, my biggest fear is that i die before i get a chance to apologize to him for what i said to him on the day our mother died. i’ll never forgive myself if that happens.” his voice cracks up as he fights back tears. you feel bad for him, you genuinely care for genya as if he were your own brother. so seeing him in this state breaks your heart. you soothingly pat his back in an attempt to comfort him.

“i just know that sanemi never thought of you as a burden, nor have i sensed any anger from him towards you. your big brother is just worried about you and he’s showing it in his own way. and it’s never too late to apologize, i’m sure he’ll appreciate it even if he doesn’t show and tries to push you away.” you respond, and genya’s eyes light up as he finds hope and solace in your words.

“thanks for listening to me, nee-chan. and sorry for dragging you into our mess.” he says with an apologetic smile. you gently pat his head as the two of you sit there in comfortable silence.

despite their shaky relationship, one thing’s for certain is that sanemi and genya deeply love and care for one another. their misunderstanding is only a result of poor communication, none of them resents or hate the other. they still have a long way, but you pray that one day, they properly communicate and reconcile.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn

[solaceseven]

Ashes of Tomorrow Pt. 3

↳ summary: in a world overrun by the infected, survival is brutal and trust is rare. when a lone survivor joins sukuna’s guarded group, tensions flare, and bonds form in the shadow of constant danger.

→ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna x fem!reader

→ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

→ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: graphic injuries, violent confrontations, emotional trauma, loss of loved ones, mature themes, and anything you would expect in an apocalypse au. unprotected sex and dirty talk.

→ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8k+

→ a/n: here it is—the final part of this series! i’m so sorry it took me so long to finish; i honestly struggled with how to end it, but i hope it was worth the wait. completing this series has been such a special experience for me since it’s my first-ever finished one, and i’m so grateful for all the love and support all of you have shown along the way. i promise i read every single comment, and they mean the world to me, even if i haven’t been able to respond as much as i’d like. thank you for your patience and lovely comments. i can’t wait to hear what you think about the ending!

part one & part two

The group reunited after what felt like an eternity—two long, harrowing hours filled with dread and desperation. Relief swept through the air like a fleeting breeze, heavy with exhaustion yet laced with the fragile thread of hope. Slowly, figures emerged from the shadows, battered but alive.

“Everyone here?” Nanami’s voice carried over the quiet chaos, sharp and steady as his eyes scanned the group.

“Barely,” Gojo muttered, dragging a hand through his sweat-matted hair. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced with fatigue. He clapped Geto on the back, the two exchanging a silent nod of relief.

Shoko was kneeling near a tree, already pulling out her medical kit. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, wiping blood off her fingers as her eyes darted over the group. “No one’s bleeding out, right? Because I’m not carrying anyone back.”

A few chuckles rippled through the group, strained but real.

You leaned heavily against Sukuna, your shoulder throbbing with every shallow breath. He glanced down at you, his crimson eyes narrowing as his gaze landed on the crude bandage over your wound.

“Shoko,” Sukuna barked, his tone sharp but threaded with worry. “Over here. Check this.”

Shoko’s head snapped up, her sharp gaze locking onto you. She frowned, rising to her feet and striding over with brisk efficiency. “What happened?”

“She got hit,” Sukuna grumbled, guiding you to sit on a large rock. His hands hovered near your arms, steadying you as you sank down.

“It’s not that bad,” you said quickly, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Shoko crouched in front of you, her sharp eyes scanning your pale face and the bloody bandage. “Not bad? You look like you’ve been through a meat grinder,” she muttered, tugging her gloves on.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, trying for a weak smile.

Shoko gave you a flat look but didn’t comment as she carefully began unwrapping the bandage. Sukuna loomed over her, his jaw tight, his arms crossed, but his eyes stayed locked on you.

“Hold still,” Shoko said softly, her voice losing some of its usual edge. Her hands worked quickly, her fingers deft as she cleaned the wound with a damp cloth. “Does this hurt?”

You winced but shook your head. “Not much.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced at Sukuna. “It’s deep, but it doesn’t look infected. I’ll clean it properly and wrap it up again. She’ll be fine.”

Sukuna didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flicked to your face, his tension only slightly easing at Shoko’s reassurance. “Do it right,” he said gruffly, his voice low but firm.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Shoko shot back, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

She worked in silence for a few moments, her hands steady despite the exhaustion etched into her features. When she finished wrapping your shoulder, she leaned back on her heels and gave you a small, tired smile. “That should hold for now. Just don’t do anything stupid to rip it open again.”

“Thanks, Shoko,” you murmured, your voice soft with gratitude.

She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face in an almost maternal gesture. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting yours.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Sukuna cut in, his voice low. “Me too.”

Shoko’s gaze flicked to Sukuna, something unspoken passing between them before she stood and dusted off her pants. “Try to keep her out of trouble,” she said, more to Sukuna than to you, before walking back to the rest of the group.

Nanami’s voice broke through the relative quiet. “We’ve been here too long. Five minutes to pack up, and we’re moving.”

The group murmured their agreement, their movements slow but efficient as they gathered their belongings. Sukuna stayed close to you, his hand brushing your arm as he helped you stand.

“You okay to walk?” he asked, his voice low but softer than you’d expected.

You nodded, though your legs still felt shaky beneath you. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you said softly, meeting his gaze with quiet determination. “I can handle it.”

He studied you for a long moment, his crimson eyes searching your face for any sign of weakness. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too damn stubborn.”

“Guess that makes two of us,” you said with a faint smile, earning the slightest twitch of his lips in return.

As the group started moving, Sukuna stayed close, his hand brushing yours occasionally, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos. His gaze never stopped scanning the horizon, his body tense and ready, as if daring anything to try and hurt you again.

“You need to tell me if it gets worse,” he said quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I will,” you promised, your voice soft but sincere.

The walk was slow, the weight of exhaustion and close calls pressing down on everyone. Despite the lingering tension, Sukuna’s careful attention grounded you, his quiet presence a reminder that you weren’t alone.

And as you trudged forward through the darkened forest, his hand brushing yours again, you felt the weight of an unspoken promise between you. Whatever came next, you knew he’d do everything in his power to keep you safe.

The group trudged through the dense forest, the dim light of dawn just beginning to filter through the thick canopy above. The faint rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a branch beneath heavy boots were the only sounds, a tense silence hanging over the group like a storm cloud.

Geto stumbled for the third time in the last fifteen minutes, his usually composed demeanor replaced with a pale, sweat-drenched exhaustion.

“Hey, you okay?” Gojo asked, stepping closer to his old friend. He grabbed Geto’s arm to steady him, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Fine,” Geto muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t look fine,” Sukuna said, his sharp eyes flicking to Geto before scanning the surrounding trees. “When’s the last time you drank anything?”

Geto swayed slightly, and Nanami stepped in on his other side, catching him just before he collapsed.

“Shit,” Shoko cursed, already pulling off her bag to dig for a water bottle. She handed it to Gojo, who pressed it to Geto’s lips.

“Drink,” Gojo ordered, his voice firm but worried.

Geto tried, but his hands trembled too much to hold the bottle. Gojo frowned, tipping it for him as the water dribbled down his chin. “He’s dehydrated,” Shoko said, her voice tight with concern.

Before anyone could respond, the faint groan of the undead carried through the forest.

Sukuna’s head snapped up, his crimson eyes narrowing. “We’ve got company.”

“Shit,” Nanami muttered, already unsheathing his weapon. “Shoko, get him out of here.”

“I can’t carry him alone!” Shoko shot back, her tone sharp with urgency.

“I’ll help,” you volunteered without hesitation, already moving to Geto’s other side. You slung his arm over your shoulder, bracing against his weight as Shoko did the same on the other side.

The groans grew louder, the shuffling footsteps now unmistakable.

“Go!” Sukuna barked, stepping forward to take the lead. “We’ll handle this.”

“But—”

“GO!” he roared, his tone brooking no argument. His crimson eyes locked onto yours for the briefest moment, softening just slightly. “We’ll catch up.”

With a sharp nod, you and Shoko hauled Geto between you, stumbling forward as the undead closed in behind.

The sounds of the fight erupted behind you—the sickening crunch of bone, the wet squelch of blades cutting through flesh, and the furious shouts of Sukuna, Gojo, and Nanami as they fought to hold the horde back.

“Faster!” Shoko urged, her voice strained as Geto’s weight threatened to pull both of you down.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” you grunted, your shoulder screaming in protest from the added strain.

The trees seemed to close in around you, the shadows deepening as the groans of the undead grew closer. Your legs burned, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, but you didn’t dare stop.

A sudden crash behind you made your heart lurch. You risked a glance over your shoulder to see Sukuna, bloodied but unrelenting, slashing through the crowd of zombies with terrifying precision. Gojo’s laughter rang out, wild and sharp, as he dispatched another with a brutal swing of his blade. Nanami, ever focused, held the line with calculated strikes, his movements efficient and deadly.

“They’re holding them off,” Shoko said, her voice a mixture of relief and urgency. “But we need to move faster.”

A root caught your foot, and you stumbled, nearly dragging Geto down with you. Shoko steadied him, her free hand gripping your arm tightly. “Don’t fall now,” she muttered, pulling you back to your feet.

“I’m trying,” you panted, your legs trembling from the effort.

The three of you finally broke through the thick trees into a small clearing. The faint light of dawn painted the scene in muted hues, offering just enough visibility to make out a cluster of rocks near the edge.

“Over there!” Shoko pointed, nodding toward the rocks. “We can put him down for a minute.”

You and Shoko half-carried, half-dragged Geto to the makeshift shelter, easing him down against the largest boulder. His head lolled back, his face pale and slick with sweat.

“Stay with us, Geto,” you whispered, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “You’re going to be okay.”

Shoko quickly unzipped her medical kit, pulling out a small vial. “This’ll help stabilize him,” she said, her tone clipped as she injected the solution into his arm.

The clearing felt like a fragile reprieve, the kind that couldn’t possibly last. Every sound, every rustle of leaves made your pulse race, and the distant growls of the undead continued to echo in the back of your mind

“Come on, Suguru,” Shoko muttered as she administered the injection, her steady hands belying the tension in her voice. “This will help, but you need to hold on. Just a little longer.”

You crouched beside them, one hand resting on Geto’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open briefly, unfocused and glassy, before they closed again. “He’s not looking great,” you murmured, worry tightening your chest.

“He’ll pull through,” Shoko said, but the edge in her tone betrayed her own concern. She didn’t stop moving, pulling out gauze and water to clean a small scrape on his temple. “We just need to give him time.”

Time you didn’t have.

The distant snarls seemed to grow louder, the forest pressing in around you. You turned toward the sound, your grip tightening on the knife at your hip. “We should keep moving,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet,” Shoko replied, her focus on Geto. “Just another minute.”

And then it happened.

The underbrush to your left exploded with movement, the snarling roar of a zombie tearing through the fragile silence. You barely had time to react before Shoko let out a startled scream, her instincts kicking in as she shoved you away from the approaching danger.

“Shoko!” you shouted, stumbling backward and falling to the ground. Your breath caught in your throat as the creature lunged toward her, its rotten, claw-like fingers swiping wildly.

Shoko scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with panic as she grabbed the nearest object—a rock—and swung it with all her strength. The impact knocked the zombie back slightly, but it didn’t stop. It snarled, undeterred, and lunged again.

You acted on instinct. The knife in your hand felt heavier than ever as you surged forward, adrenaline surging through your veins. The zombie had Shoko pinned against a tree now, its teeth snapping dangerously close to her neck.

“Get away from her!” you screamed, your voice hoarse as you slashed at its back. The blade bit into decayed flesh, and the zombie jerked, momentarily distracted. Shoko used the opportunity to shove it away, gasping for breath as she staggered to the side.

But the creature wasn’t done. It turned on you now, its soulless eyes locking onto you as it charged. You stumbled back, your grip tightening on the knife, but before it could reach you, Shoko lunged forward again.

“No!” you cried as the zombie’s claws raked across Shoko’s arm. She let out a cry of pain, but she didn’t stop, grabbing onto its tattered clothes and holding it in place.

You didn’t hesitate. With a shout, you drove your knife into its skull, the force of the blow sending both of you tumbling to the ground. The zombie twitched once before going limp, its weight heavy and suffocating as it collapsed on top of you.

Panting, you shoved the corpse off and scrambled to your knees, your eyes immediately searching for Shoko. “Shoko!” you cried, your voice breaking.

She was slumped against the tree, cradling her bleeding arm. Her face was pale, her breaths shallow, but she managed to give you a shaky smile. “I’m okay,” she said, though her voice wavered.

“No, you’re not!” you snapped, crawling to her side and grabbing the medical kit. Your hands shook as you fumbled with the supplies, the sight of her blood making your stomach twist. “Why did you do that? You should’ve let me—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, her voice firm despite her obvious pain. “I wasn’t going to let you get hurt. End of story.”

Tears blurred your vision as you pressed gauze to her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “You’re so stupid,” you muttered, your voice trembling. “What if it had been worse? What if—”

“Hey,” Shoko said softly, her good hand reaching out to grip your wrist. Her gaze was steady, her usual calm demeanor peeking through despite everything. “I’m fine. I promise.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you secured the bandage around her arm. “You can’t scare me like that,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I thought that was it for you.”

Her expression softened, and she gave your wrist a gentle squeeze. “It’s not,” she said simply. “I’m still here.”

The groans of the undead echoed again, reminding you that the danger wasn’t over. You glanced back toward the clearing, your heart racing as you realized the others were still fighting.

“We need to move,” you said, your voice steadier now. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah,” Shoko said, though she winced as she pushed herself up. “Let’s get Geto and go.”

You helped her to her feet, your grip firm but careful, and together you moved to Geto’s side. He was still slumped against the rock, but his breathing was more even now.

As you and Shoko prepared to lift him, a familiar voice broke through the chaos.

You turned to see Sukuna, bloodied but alive, sprinting toward you. His crimson eyes widened as they landed on Shoko’s arm. “What the hell happened?”

“A zombie came out of nowhere,” you said quickly, your voice shaking. “She saved me.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenched, his crimson eyes darting between the two of you. “Dammit,” he muttered, stepping closer. He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder before turning his gaze to Shoko. “Can you walk?”

“I’m fine,” Shoko replied, though her wince betrayed her words.

Before Sukuna could respond, another voice called out through the trees. “Y/N! Shoko!”

Gojo emerged first, panting heavily, his white hair streaked with dirt and blood. Nanami followed closely behind, his usual calm demeanor replaced with visible tension. Both of their eyes immediately scanned the scene—the bloody corpse nearby, Shoko’s injury, and Geto’s slumped form.

“What the hell happened here?” Gojo asked, his usual nonchalance nowhere to be found as he crouched beside Geto. His blue eyes narrowed at the sight of Shoko’s bleeding arm. “Are you okay? Shoko, you’re hurt.”

“She’s fine,” Sukuna cut in, his tone sharp. “We need to get moving before more show up.”

Nanami crouched beside Shoko, his sharp gaze assessing her wound. “It’s not deep, but you’ll need to keep it clean. Infection could set in quickly.”

“I’ve got it under control,” Shoko replied firmly, though her voice softened as she added, “Thanks.”

“Geto’s barely holding on,” Gojo said, his voice unusually grim as he lifted their unconscious friend’s arm. “We can’t carry him much farther like this.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Sukuna snapped, his gaze darting to the dense forest behind them. “The longer we stay here, the more exposed we are.”

You knelt beside Geto, brushing sweat-dampened hair from his face. “We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, glancing at the group. “We always do.”

Gojo met your gaze, nodding firmly. “Damn right we will.”

“Nanami, take his other side. Let’s move.” Sukuna muttered, stepping closer. He crouched and looped one of Geto’s arms over his broad shoulders.

Nanami gave a quick nod, positioning himself on Geto’s opposite side to help carry his weight. Gojo fell back slightly, taking up the rear as he scanned the surroundings, his blade ready.

Shoko swayed slightly, her face pale, and you instinctively moved to support her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked softly, worry lacing your tone.

“I’ve had worse,” she said with a weak smile, but her steps faltered.

Sukuna’s sharp eyes caught the motion, and he stopped abruptly, glancing back. “If she can’t walk, we’ll carry her too.”

Shoko shot him a glare. “I can walk. Let’s just go.”

The group began moving again, the sound of groans and snapping branches growing fainter as you pushed deeper into the forest. Every step felt heavier, the weight of exhaustion and fear pressing down on you, but you kept moving.

Sukuna glanced back at you more than once, his crimson eyes filled with something unspoken. His hand brushed yours briefly, a grounding gesture that steadied your fraying nerves.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees began to thin, revealing a faint trail ahead. The group slowed, everyone breathing hard and glancing over their shoulders as the threat finally seemed to fade.

“We’ll rest here for a few minutes,” Nanami said, his voice calm but firm. He and Sukuna lowered Geto carefully onto a patch of grass, and Gojo immediately crouched beside him, checking his pulse.

Nanami knelt beside Shoko, his sharp gaze focused on her arm as he gently peeled back the makeshift bandage to assess the wound.

“You need to take it easy,” he said firmly, though his voice was softer than usual. “It’s not deep, but it’s not shallow enough to ignore.”

“I’m fine, Nanami,” Shoko replied, but her wince as he cleaned the area betrayed her words.

“You always say that,” he muttered, shaking his head as he applied a fresh bandage with practiced precision. “One of these days, you’re going to actually listen to someone, right?”

She offered a weak chuckle. “Doubtful.”

Across the clearing, Gojo tipped a bottle of water to Geto’s lips, murmuring quietly, “Come on, man. Just a sip. You’ve been through worse. Don’t give up on me now.”

Geto stirred faintly, his eyelids fluttering as he made a weak attempt to drink. Gojo grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s it. You’re tougher than this. I know you are.”

Gojo’s free hand rested on Geto’s shoulder, a grounding gesture that spoke to their deep bond. “You’re not allowed to check out on me yet, okay? We’ve got too much to do.”

Meanwhile, you sat a few feet away, leaning against a tree, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, but the tension in your chest refused to ease. Sukuna knelt beside you, his crimson eyes sweeping over the group before they locked onto you, unwavering and intense.

Without a word, he reached out, his large hands gently cupping your cheeks, tilting your face up toward his. The warmth of his palms against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, grounding you in the moment.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice low but steady, cutting through the haze of fatigue clouding your thoughts. “We’re close. Just a little longer, and we’ll be safe.”

His gaze searched yours, the fierce determination in his eyes softening as his thumbs brushed over your cheekbones in slow, comforting strokes. The weight of his words sank into you, easing some of the tension coiled tight in your chest.

You nodded slightly, your hands instinctively reaching up to rest on his wrists. “I trust you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

For a moment, Sukuna didn’t move, his eyes lingering on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and grounding, as if to reassure you that you weren’t alone. His hands stayed firm on your cheeks, holding you like you were something fragile yet vital, something he’d fight to protect with everything he had.

The kiss deepened slightly, his breath warm against your skin, before he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “We’re going to make it,” he whispered, his voice carrying a promise that felt like a lifeline.

You closed your eyes briefly, taking in the steady rhythm of his breaths, and let the comfort of his touch anchor you. When you opened them again, he was watching you, his crimson gaze unwavering and filled with something unspoken but undeniable.

Before either of you could speak, a faint groan broke the moment. Your head snapped toward the source, and Sukuna’s hand immediately fell to his weapon out of instinct. But it wasn’t a threat—it was Geto. His fingers twitched, his head shifting slightly against the makeshift pillow beneath him.

“Suguru?” Shoko was at his side in an instant, her hands hovering over him as her sharp eyes scanned his pale face. “Hey, are you with us?”

Geto’s eyelids fluttered before they slowly cracked open, revealing hazy brown eyes. He blinked sluggishly, his gaze unfocused at first, but when he finally locked onto Shoko, a faint, groggy smile tugged at his lips. “Hey,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shoko let out a shaky laugh, her composure breaking as she threw her arms around him, careful not to jostle him too much. “Don’t scare us like that, you idiot,” she muttered, her voice thick with relief.

“Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living,” Gojo teased, though his voice carried a tremor of emotion. “Missed you, man.”

Geto’s weak chuckle was short-lived, but it was enough to ease the tension gripping the group. “Missed you too,” he mumbled, his eyes drifting between the familiar faces around him.

Nanami approached, his usual stoicism softening. “Glad to see you awake,” he said simply, his gaze steady as he nodded at Geto.

You felt Sukuna’s hand tighten briefly on yours, grounding you in the moment. Relief swept through the group like a balm, lifting the heavy weight that had settled over everyone.

“Think you can move soon?” Sukuna asked, his tone gruff but not unkind. “We can’t stay here much longer.”

Shoko pulled back, wiping at her eyes quickly before regaining her professional demeanor. “Give him a few more minutes. I don’t want him collapsing again.”

Geto gave a faint nod, his head leaning back against the rock. “I’ll be fine. Just… give me a second.”

Gojo leaned back on his heels, shaking his head with a grin. “Take your time, man. We’re not dragging your sorry ass again.”

Shoko shot him a glare. “He literally almost died, Gojo.”

“Exactly, which is why he should get his strength back so we don’t have to go through that again,” Gojo shot back, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed his playful tone.

As the group waited, you found yourself leaning into Sukuna’s side, his arm slipping around your shoulders protectively. His crimson gaze flicked to you briefly before scanning the treeline once more, always alert.

“Stay close when we move,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “We’re not taking any more chances.”

“I will,” you promised, your voice equally soft.

A few minutes later, Shoko stood, brushing dirt off her pants. “Alright. He’s stable enough to move, but slowly. Gojo, help him.”

“On it.” Gojo crouched beside Geto, slinging one of his friend’s arms over his shoulders. “Come on, Geto. Let’s get you out of here.”

With Gojo supporting Geto, the group gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. Sukuna stayed close to you, his hand brushing yours occasionally as you fell into step beside him.

The forest seemed quieter now, the oppressive weight of earlier fading as the faint light of dawn continued to creep through the trees. Despite the lingering exhaustion and tension, there was a renewed sense of hope among the group. You glanced at Sukuna, his crimson eyes scanning the horizon, and felt a flicker of reassurance.

The dense forest finally began to thin, and the air felt sharper, colder. The group trudged forward, exhaustion etched into their faces. It had been days of relentless traveling, ambushes, and sleepless nights, but now there was a flicker of hope.

Nanami, walking slightly ahead, raised his hand to halt the group. “Look,” he said, pointing ahead.

There it was—a weathered, metal sign bolted to a leaning post. It read:

GOVERNMENT SANCTIONED SAFE ZONE—2 MILES.

The arrow pointed upward.

“Finally!” Gojo exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air dramatically. “We’re close!”

Shoko squinted ahead, her hand shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun. “That’s great, but… does that look like a mountain to anyone else?”

The group stared, their eyes following the trail upward. Sure enough, a steep, rocky incline loomed in the distance, climbing high into the fog-draped peaks.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Geto muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nanami exhaled slowly, already looking as if he were calculating the climb. “It makes sense. The higher ground is easier to defend. A natural fortress.”

“Sure, genius. But did they have to make it this high?” Gojo shot back, tilting his head back to exaggerate the incline.

“We can’t stop now,” you said, your voice tired but resolute. “We didn’t come all this way to quit at the last stretch.”

“You’re really looking forward to this, huh?” Sukuna asked, his tone quieter as he glanced at you. There was no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.

You met his gaze. “It’s a chance, Sukuna. A real one. For all of us.”

He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll see about that.”

“Well, we can complain about it or start climbing,” Shoko said, already pulling her bag tighter.

“I’m too tired for this kind of cardio,” Gojo grumbled but began moving toward the incline.

The group exchanged weary glances, but one by one, they followed. Sukuna stayed close to you, his hand brushing yours every so often as if silently checking you were still there.

The climb was grueling. Loose rocks and steep paths made every step a battle. Shoko slipped once, but Geto caught her arm, steadying her. Sukuna hovered close whenever the trail became especially narrow, his sharp eyes flicking between you and the terrain.

“Almost there,” Nanami called, though his tone betrayed his exhaustion.

“Better be,” Gojo said, half-panting. “If this isn’t the place, I’m turning back and opening my own safe zone.”

“And how long do you think you’d survive on your own?” Geto shot back.

“Forever,” Gojo retorted smugly, though no one was in the mood to humor him.

Finally, after what felt like hours of climbing, the group reached a wide, flat ledge. The fog began to clear, and the faint outline of a massive steel gate came into view. A chain-link fence stretched out from either side, running the length of the rocky cliff. Beyond the gate, you could see the faint glimmer of floodlights and the shapes of guard towers.

“It’s real,” you whispered, your breath hitching.

The group stood there for a moment, staring in stunned silence.

“Guess we didn’t climb for nothing,” Sukuna muttered, though his tone was cautious.

“Let’s not celebrate just yet,” Nanami said, moving forward.

The gate was imposing, its surface dented and scratched from what you could only assume were previous attacks. A security camera perched at the top, its red light blinking as it tracked your group’s movements.

Nanami stepped forward and cleared his throat. “We’re survivors,” he called, his voice steady. “We received your message.”

For a long, tense moment, there was no response.

Then, a loudspeaker crackled to life.

“State your names and how many are in your group,” a voice demanded. It was sharp and professional, but not unkind.

Nanami responded without hesitation, listing your names and confirming the group’s size.

The voice paused, then said, “Stay where you are. Someone will come to assess you. Do not approach the gate.”

The group exchanged wary glances but obeyed, settling into a tense silence. Sukuna moved to stand beside you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“You ready for this?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though your heart hammered in your chest. “Are you?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his gaze flicking back to the gate. “But if this is what the group wants then okay.”

Before you could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the other side of the gate. The moment of truth was here.

The gates creaked open slowly, revealing a group of heavily armed soldiers standing behind a barricade. They moved forward, their rifles raised but not aimed, scanning each of you carefully.

“Hands where we can see them,” one of the soldiers ordered. His voice was firm but not hostile.

Everyone complied, raising their hands and staying still as the soldiers approached. One of them, a woman with a stern face, stepped up to Nanami first, patting him down methodically and checking his bag.

“We have to search all of you for weapons or signs of infection,” she announced as the others followed suit.

When it was your turn, a soldier—a man with a gruff demeanor—began to check you. His hands moved briskly over your arms, shoulders, and back. But when he gripped your wrist a bit too tightly to check for injuries, you flinched.

Sukuna stepped forward instantly, his tone sharp and protective. “Careful!” he snapped, glaring daggers at the soldier.

The man looked up, startled. “Standard procedure.”

“Yeah? Then do it without bruising her,” Sukuna growled, his voice low and threatening.

The soldier hesitated but backed off slightly, finishing his check without another word. You glanced at Sukuna, your heart swelling at his protectiveness, though you gave him a small shake of your head to signal it was okay.

Once the search was complete, the lead soldier gestured for the group to move forward. “They’re clear. Welcome to Haven Base.”

The inside of the base was like stepping into a different world. Wide, clean paths wound between sturdy buildings constructed from concrete and metal. Solar panels gleamed on rooftops, and the hum of generators filled the air. People bustled about—children playing, adults tending to gardens or working on machinery. It was the most life you’d seen since the outbreak began.

A large, central building loomed ahead, flanked by smaller dormitories. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter, but their stances were relaxed, their faces calm. It truly felt like a safe haven.

“Holy shit,” Gojo muttered, his wide eyes darting around. “This place is… legit.”

“It’s almost too good to be true,” Geto murmured warily.

Nanami nodded, his expression unreadable. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

A soldier led you to the dormitory, handing each of you a key. “You’ll be assigned rooms here. Two to a room. Showers and meals are provided in the main building. Orientation is tomorrow morning. Rest up.”

The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the base’s generators. You stand by the window, freshly showered, wrapped in clothes that don’t smell like blood or sweat. For the first time in months, your hair feels clean, your skin soft, and the simple feeling of being washed is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

The view outside is peaceful—the mountains standing tall in the distance, the world quiet under a blanket of night. You trace a finger along the cold glass, almost afraid that if you blink too long, this will all disappear.

The sound of the door opening breaks your thoughts. You turn to see Sukuna walk in, his hair damp and pushed back, a clean shirt clinging to him. He looks… different. Relaxed, maybe, though his crimson eyes still hold that sharp glint you’ve grown so used to. But there’s something else there too—something softer.

“How are the others?” you ask softly, turning back to the window as he walks up beside you.

“They’re good,” he says, his voice a low rumble. He leans against the wall, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. “Gojo’s stuffing his face with every snack he can get his hands on. Shoko’s already talking about how much she missed sleeping on a real bed. Nanami’s… well, being Nanami. He’s already asking about rations and supplies.”

You laugh softly at the thought. “That sounds like them.”

Sukuna smirks. “Yeah. Bunch of idiots. But they’re okay.”

“And Geto?”

“Probably trying to keep Gojo from eating the whole stockpile,” Sukuna replies with a shake of his head.

You smile, turning to look at him. There’s a faint shadow of exhaustion still lingering in his features, but his expression is lighter, his shoulders looser. He catches you staring and raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s just… we made it.”

The weight of those words hangs between you. Sukuna studies you for a moment before pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you. He reaches for your hand, fingers sliding easily between yours as he pulls you away from the window.

“Come here.”

You let him guide you to the bed, where he sits and tugs you down beside him. It’s quiet for a moment—so quiet you can hear the faint sound of his breathing, steady and warm.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” you admit, resting your head against his shoulder. “I keep waiting for something to go wrong.”

Sukuna’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer until you’re tucked against his side. “It’s real,” he murmurs. “We’re here. And nothing’s going to take this away.”

You close your eyes, letting his words settle deep in your chest. For so long, survival was the only thing you could focus on. Moments like this—simple, soft, human—felt like distant dreams.

Sukuna presses a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. “You’re thinking too much again,” he says quietly.

You smile faintly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes soften as they trace over your face, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. The calluses on his palm are familiar, grounding.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“For what?”

“For everything,” you say. “For keeping us safe. For keeping me safe.”

Sukuna scoffs softly, though the corners of his lips twitch upward. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I do.”

He doesn’t argue this time. Instead, he leans down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that’s soft and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize you. You kiss him back, your hand curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing and the steady beat of his heart.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, “I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this. Like… I had something worth holding onto ever since Yuji.”

Your chest tightens at the confession. You lift a hand to touch his face, brushing your thumb over the scar on his cheek. “You do,” you whisper. “And you’re not alone anymore.”

Sukuna closes his eyes, like he’s letting your words wash over him, like they’re breaking down the walls he’s spent so long building. When he opens them again, there’s something in his gaze that makes your heart ache—a mix of tenderness and relief.

“I love you,” he says, the words rough and honest, like he’s finally letting himself believe them.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his lips before leaning back just enough to meet his gaze. “I love you too.”

Outside, the world stretches out beyond the base, vast and uncertain. The dangers are still out there—the chaos, the loss, the memories of what you’ve survived—but here, in this moment, there’s only the quiet.

You lean your head against Sukuna’s chest as he wraps both arms around you, holding you close like he’s afraid to let go. The two of you sit like that for a while, breathing each other in, the hum of the base a steady rhythm in the background.

And for the first time in so long, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there’s still hope left in this world.

You’ve made it. Together.

And that’s enough.

The dense forest and chaos of the past seemed like a distant memory now. It had been six months since you and the group made it to the government safe zone. The towering steel gates, the floodlights, and the patrolling guards had become an everyday sight, though they still felt foreign sometimes. You weren’t used to walls keeping things out—not when life outside had always been about running, fighting, and surviving. But here you were. Safe. Or as safe as anyone could be

You woke to the sharp whistle that signaled the start of another day. It sliced through the mountain air, crisp and cold even with the spring thaw. Sukuna was already up, sitting at the small desk crammed into your shared unit. His broad shoulders hunched over a map as his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the surface.

“Morning,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and low as he glanced over his shoulder at you.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and offered a tired smile. “Morning. You’ve been up long?”

“Not too long.” He turned back to his map, his focus unwavering. “Thought I’d go over the patrol routes again. Make sure they’re not screwing it up.”

You chuckled softly, slipping out of bed and grabbing your boots. The heater in the corner of the room barely made a dent in the mountain chill, and you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders as you moved toward him. “You can’t micromanage everything, you know.”

He huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. “Someone has to.”

Breakfast was in the communal dining hall—a noisy, crowded space filled with survivors eating together. The smell of coffee and freshly baked bread mingled with the chatter, a strange contrast to the silence you’d grown accustomed to in the wild. You spotted the others immediately. Shoko was sipping her coffee with half-lidded eyes, while Nanami sat beside her, flipping through a worn notebook. Gojo and Geto were also with them, Gojo gesturing animatedly with his fork while Geto looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Finally!” Gojo called out when he spotted you and Sukuna. “I thought you two were gonna skip breakfast again. I can’t keep saving pancakes for you, y’know.”

“You didn’t save anything,” Shoko muttered, rolling her eyes.

You sat beside her, your shoulder brushing against hers. “How are you holding up?”

“Better than you, I think,” she said, giving you a once-over. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground lately.”

“Not much choice,” you replied, though your tired smile didn’t reach your eyes. “There’s always something to do.”

Shoko nodded, her expression softening. “Well, don’t forget to breathe once in a while.”

Sukuna, sitting across from you, grunted his agreement as he grabbed a piece of toast. His sharp eyes flicked toward you, lingering for a moment before he turned his attention back to his plate.

The mornings had become a strange kind of ritual—a chance to connect, to remind each other why you fought so hard to stay alive.

The days at the base were structured but demanding. Your role in the infirmary had grown quickly, Shoko relying on you to help with the constant stream of injuries and illnesses. It wasn’t always easy—there were moments when the sight of blood and the cries of pain brought back memories you’d rather forget. But the work kept you grounded. It gave you purpose.

Sukuna’s days were no less exhausting. He’d become one of the leaders of the patrol teams, his sharp instincts and relentless drive making him a natural choice. You rarely saw him during the day, but when he returned to your shared unit each evening, you could see the toll it took on him. The quiet moments you shared, sitting together in the faint glow of the heater, were the only times he seemed to relax.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the infirmary windows, casting a soft golden glow over the sterile room. You were hunched over a supply cabinet, carefully sorting bandages and antiseptics while Shoko worked on organizing the patient files at her desk. The day had been mercifully uneventful—no emergencies, no chaos—just the steady rhythm of work.

The door creaked open, and you turned your head around, expecting another patient or Shoko’s usual delivery of coffee. Instead, Sukuna strolled in, his presence commanding as always. His crimson eyes scanned the room before landing on you, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, well,” Shoko drawled without looking up. “What brings the mighty Sukuna to our humble infirmary? Need your ego patched up?”

“Funny,” Sukuna deadpanned, ignoring her as he walked straight toward you. You straightened as he approached, your heart skipping slightly at the way his gaze softened just for you.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice low as he slid his arms around your waist from behind. His warmth enveloped you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he pulled you flush against him.

“Sukuna,” you whispered, a flustered smile tugging at your lips. “I’m working.”

“And I’m waiting for you to stop,” he replied smoothly, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s been all day, and I’m done pretending I can go any longer without this.”

His lips brushed the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively leaned back into him, your fingers brushing against his hands as they tightened slightly around your waist.

“Ew,” Shoko groaned loudly, snapping a file shut and glaring at the two of you. “Some of us are trying to get work done without dying of secondhand embarrassment.”

Sukuna didn’t even flinch, his smirk widening as he tilted his head to glance at her. “Then stop watching. Problem solved.”

“Seriously,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Get a room.”

Sukuna straightened slightly, his smirk turning downright wicked. “Gladly.”

Before you could protest, he was already turning you toward the door, his hand firmly clasping yours as he tugged you along. “Sukuna!” you yelped, half-laughing, half-protesting as you stumbled after him. “I’m still working!”

“Not anymore,” he said over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re taking a break.”

Shoko’s exasperated voice rang out behind you, sharp and cutting through the heated moment. “I need her for treatment, Sukuna! She’s not done yet.”

Without missing a beat, Sukuna glanced over his shoulder, his crimson eyes flashing with their usual intensity. “Not as much as I need her,” he shot back, his tone dripping with possessiveness.

Shoko groaned dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Oh my god. Gag me. Seriously, stop. Just—take her and go.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up despite the heat still lingering between you and Sukuna. His lips twitched in amusement, but his hand stayed firm on your wrist as he pulled you toward the door.

The door to your shared room closed with a soft click, and before you could even turn around, Sukuna’s hands were on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips met yours with a desperate hunger, the day’s tension melting away as his warmth consumed you.

Your hands instinctively reached up, tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. A soft gasp escaped you, and he took full advantage, tilting his head to explore you further. The feel of his body against yours, the weight of his hands on your hips, made your pulse race.

“Sukuna,” you whispered against his lips, but he didn’t stop—didn’t even slow down. Instead, he gripped your waist tighter and began walking you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. With a gentle but insistent push, you tumbled onto the mattress, your laughter quickly swallowed by his mouth as he leaned over you.

“You’re mine tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. He hovered above you, his crimson eyes locked onto yours, darkened with an emotion that made your breath hitch.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached behind his neck, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it off in one smooth motion. The soft glow of the room illuminated his tattoos, the intricate black lines dancing across his skin. Your hands instinctively reached up, tracing the patterns over his chest and shoulders, your fingertips brushing against warm, taut muscle.

“Can’t get enough, can you?” he teased, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he leaned closer, his hands sliding beneath your shirt. His calloused fingers brushed over your bare skin, and you arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he slowly dragged the fabric over your head.

“Sukuna,” you breathed, his name a plea as his lips found your neck. He left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as his hands roamed your body, mapping every curve. He kissed his way down to your collarbone, his lips lingering before his teeth nipped at the delicate skin, making you gasp.

He pulled back slightly, his crimson eyes locking onto yours as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants. “Off,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your hands fumbled to comply, pushing the fabric down your hips. Sukuna helped, his movements uncharacteristically gentle as he slid them off and tossed them aside. His own pants quickly followed, leaving him gloriously bare above you.

Your gaze dropped to his cock, hard and heavy, and your breath caught in your throat. He smirked at your reaction, leaning down until his lips brushed against your ear. “You’re already dripping for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “So fucking eager.”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t deny it. “I need you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with want.

“I know, baby,” he said, his tone softer now, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “I’ve got you.”

He positioned himself between your legs, his cock brushing against your slick folds as he teased you, dragging the head slowly along your entrance. The sensation made your hips jerk, a needy whimper escaping your lips.

“Patience,” Sukuna growled, his hands gripping your hips to hold you still. “I’ll give you what you want. But you’re going to take all of me.”

With one slow, deliberate motion, he pushed inside, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs as he filled you completely. Your nails clawed at his shoulders, the fullness overwhelming as he paused, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tipping back as his muscles flexed above you. “So tight. Always so fucking perfect.”

Your body trembled beneath him, the sensation of him buried so deep igniting every nerve. “Sukuna,” you gasped, your voice breathless. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah?” he said, his voice a low growl as he pulled back, only to thrust forward again, the force of it making your back arch. “You were made for me.”

He set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with a precision that left you breathless. Each thrust hit deeper, the angle sending shockwaves through your body as he gripped your thighs, spreading you wider to take him.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his crimson eyes blazing as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling as his movements grew rougher, more desperate. “All yours.”

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, a symphony of moans and groans as Sukuna drove you closer to the edge. His hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with devastating precision.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. “Falling apart for me. You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

Your head fell back against the mattress, your cries growing louder as the coil in your core tightened. “Sukuna—I’m so close.”

“I know, baby,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Let go. I want to feel you.”

With one more thrust, the dam broke. Your body convulsed beneath him, your walls clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name, your hands clawing at his back as you came undone.

“Fuck,” Sukuna groaned, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. He buried himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing as he spilled into you, the warmth of his release sending another shiver through your body.

He collapsed against you, his weight grounding you as both of you struggled to catch your breath. His forehead pressed against yours, his crimson eyes soft as they searched your face, studying every inch of you like he was committing it to memory. His fingers traced along your jawline, their touch feather-light, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and raw, carrying the weight of every unspoken word that lingered in the quiet.

Your heart swelled, the warmth of his confession spreading through you like a flame. “I love you more,” you whispered, your voice trembling, each word wrapped in sincerity.

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were about to argue. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours as he murmured, “Impossible.”

Before you could respond, his mouth captured yours in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was deep and consuming, pulling you into a world where only the two of you existed. His hands cupped your face, holding you with a reverence that made your chest ache, every movement filled with a quiet passion that words could never fully express.

As the kiss softened, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer. He buried his face in your hair, his breaths steadying, his warmth surrounding you like a shield. The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was filled with the weight of love, the kind that didn’t need to be spoken to be understood.

And as you lay together, the quiet intimacy of the moment settled over you like a gentle tide, washing away the chaos of the world beyond these walls. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat ground you, a steady reminder that in this chaotic world, he was your constant.

taglist: @mangiswig @glads-stuff @merv123 @pinkpookiebear @pookalicious-hq @anything4yoongi @perqbeth @ssetsuka @eggingamazinglove @sylussss7 @emochosoluvr @dovey-quacks2332 @ieathairs @blueemochii

check out my next series, the four houses chronicles !!

[the-cauldron-witch]

Howdy T'Witch! It makes me so happy that you got your blog all up and designed! Those are big days and I’m happy that it looks so good! Hopefully you think so too!

I say that your writing requests were open and I’d love to pick your brain on some light angst if you’re up for it! No worries if you ain’t because hey understandable. The holidays be crazyyyyyy 🤪

But maybe to something to think about if you’re bored and whatever. But I wanted to ask on how do you think the Bayverse Boys would respond to you (y/n) getting amnesia and forgetting about them completely for whatever reason for how ever long? Do you think they’d try to rejog their memory or try to love them better with the chance of a fresh start? Or something else entirely. I am curious and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve got the time and energy. Thanks for existing!

Hey Anon! (It’s weird to type this and have you not actually be an anon lmao)

I am very happy I finally have my blog up and running how I like, it finally feels like a little home to me. Thank you for noticing! 🫂🫂🫂

Thank you so much for sending an ask, I’m going to have fun with this one! I’m giving them a happy ending though, cause I can’t write angst and not give my boys a good ending. (Also completely unedited and not proof read lol)

Leonardo

The worry and anxiety he feels in the pit of his stomach like he swallowed a lead weight is one thing, but the chest-clenching heartbreak when you shriek at the sight of him and had no recollection of his existence is another.

He keeps a stoic face once you’ve calmed down and while explaining who he is to you, but really this poor guy is absolutely gutted. It takes so much of him to keep a straight face.

Still a bit of a helicopter, using any subtle opportunity to jog your memory of himself. He’ll make a cup of tea for you in the exact way he did on your first date, subtly comment on your outfit when he recognizes it’s something he bought you, anything he could think of to hopefully remind you.

This man does not sleep the entire time. You aren’t sleeping in his bed, how could he anyway? Once he is sure you are fully asleep, he comes to check on you. Listen to see if you talk in your sleep, mumbling about memories or just in case a nightmare decides to haunt you.

When he can’t check on you or do really anything else, he’s meditating in order to keep his emotions in line. He’s completely destroyed, so meditating for hours on end is the only way he can keep himself in check.

Although he’s snappy, irritable, and driving everyone but you away, what Leo really needs is one of his brothers to ignore the attitude and just stand there and let him get it out. By the time he’s done he’s already apologized a hundred times, he’s just lost and broken hearted.

Out of all his brothers, Raph is probably the one that cracks him and gets him to just spit it out. They all know what’s going on and how much Leo’s hurting from it all, but he still needs to let it out. Raph can handle the attitude with ease, brushing it aside and letting Leo get himself together

After what feels like an eternity, you gain your memory back at the most random of times while you happened to be watching him practice his kata. When you start babbling memories excitedly, he picks you up in a hug and cries into you.

It doesn’t matter if anyone’s watching, he’s crying and just so grateful that you remember who he is. Weeping tears of joy and the bottled anxiety finally burst as he holds you. Bear with this poor guy, it’s been a ride for both of you really.

Raphael

This poor guy is so surprised and in shock when you don’t remember him, he thinks you’re playing some sort of prank on him at first.

“Heh- babe, c’mon…don’t joke around like dat”

Once it hits him that this isn’t a prank or joke, you genuinely do not know who he is, Raph practically shuts down.

The love of his life doesn’t remember who he is, even looks at him like he’s the monster he felt he was before meeting you. It breaks his heart so much he locks himself away for a day or two, unfortunately leaving you more confused.

When you start wanting to be near him- no, needing to be near him, is when he starts coming around. He found you pacing back and forth in front of his bedroom door like a cat waiting to enter a closed off room one night.

You couldn’t explain it, but you have this invisible pull and primal need to be near him somehow. To be close, even touching him. Although you don’t remember why, you just know you need to,

Raph starts coming out of his room and trying to act normal, but when his brothers look him in the face an see how red and raw his eyes are, the dark circles, and the heartbreak in his eyes, they know it’s just an act but wisely choose not to comment.

He catches you staring at him while he’s working out, chuckling as you bashfully try to shy away. He doesn’t tease or joke though, instead encourages you to come watch

“I miss my favorite spotting partner,” Raph admits, hoping that will help jog your memory a little. It doesn’t outright, but you do find yourself already knowing how to spot him.

After a few days of you following Raph around like a lost puppy, your memory finally comes crashing back to you when Raph slipped the boxing gloves on you for practice.

Relief. So much relief it washes over Raph like a tidal wave that nearly knocks him off his feet. He holds you and kisses you, telling you repeatedly how grateful and happy he is you have your memory and you’re here. The tears will come at night while the two of you are in bed for the night, but he holds you and everything is okay.

Donatello

Initiate full on analytical mode. He is immediately going through a thousand different scenarios and cures in his head, he almost forgets that *you forgot* who he was all together, so his babbling did nothing to calm you down.

Even with all his knowledge and abilities, it still doesn’t negate the overwhelming emotions he feels when you don’t recognize him. It hurts, makes it hard for Donnie to even breathe, but he hides it behind his science and research.

Sitting in front of his computer for days on end in between checking up on your, it becomes almost like an obsession for Donnie to get your memory back. At the risk of his own health and wellbeing, he does not stop.

From using scents he knows you enjoy, like that cologne you bought for him as a gift or your favorite body wash, tasting your favorite coffee or the tiramisu Donnie bought for the two of you on a date once.

Let’s put on that movie we watched on that one Valentine’s weekend; you were obsessed with it for weeks!

Oh, what if Donnie took you to that rooftop the two of you saw a comet in the night sky once? It was absolutely beautiful, but wasn’t nearly as beautiful as you, he confided.

Countless hours of research keep Donnie from sleeping, honestly at one point contemplating how he could just straight main-line caffeine into his blood stream to stay awake.

Without warning one night, you come into his lab and demand he sleep. Not ask, not coax, you demand Donnie to get in bad with you and get some sleep. He questions if you’ve finally gotten your memory back, but sadly no. And he’s crushed. But you still demand he lay down in bed with you.

Crawling into bed with you with awkward limbs, Donnie is surprised that you lay down exactly as you always do with him. Even without memory, it was like your body still remembered how you fit together.

Quiet tears fall as Donnie holds onto you, sleep mercifully taking him into a deep slumber. Guilt crawled its way into your stomach while trying to sleep, wishing that your memory would just return so you could stop all of this.

Waking up in the morning, you blinked with shock as you look at Donnie- looked at him like you knew him again. And you did. You had woken up with your memory by some miracle.

Kissing and hugging you with love and relief, Donnie can’t keep his hands off of you or keep the tears from smudging his glasses. It was all so hard to believe while it was happening that now it was over, it felt like the end of a tornado.

The two of you decide to sleep in a little longer, only because Donnie could barely hold his eyes open. Frankly, sleep was probably what you needed too after all this.

Michelangelo

Confused. Downright, no jokes confused. How could you not remember him so suddenly? Time just doesn’t erase like that right?

Mikey asks Donnie a million and one questions, repeating or re-wording them or giving scenarios. It drives his brother mad, but he tries to be lenient because Donnie knows how terrified his younger brother is.

He caters to you in every way; offers to get you a drink, make you something to eat, get you a pillow, it becomes a little overwhelming, but you don’t know how to tell him to stop.

When Mikey tries to kiss you and pull away, it was like you could practically hear the way his heart shatters like glass. But he hides it with a smile and flirts, telling you he won you over once, he could do it again.

This is when he starts to flirt with you like he did before the two of you started dating, but with far more strategy and knowledge. Comments about how sweet you are while making your favorite chocolate pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream

Tells you how amazing you look in that shirt or those pants, mostly because he was the one to buy them.

He’ll give you your favorite kind of gifts; favorite flowers, candy, stuffed animals, anything he can think of giving you and jog your memory. Each time it doesn’t work, he’s crushed a little bit more, but he keeps trying.

Plays movies that you and Mikey watched together, shared music playlists the two of you built together over the period of your relationship, and whatever else he could possibly think of. But it still didn’t work.

When you aren’t anywhere near to see, Mikey with let himself cry for a moment out of frustration and sadness that you don’t remember him. It hurts, but by the time you are near he has a smile back on his face.

He thought you were sleeping one night when you found him crying down one of the sewer tunnels away from the lair. The sight broke your heart, which for some reason jogged your memory. Rushing to hug and kiss him, you damn near scared Mikey out of his shell.

“Angelcakes, you remember!?” Mikey shouts, picking you up and spinning you in a massive hug. Thank the pizza Gods, he had you back!

Taglist

@silverwatergalaxy @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

@yorshie @truffle-reblogs @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @thepinkpanther83

@avery73 @luckycharms1701 @tmnt-tychou @suksiskovaikkakuuseen @milykins @justalotoffanfiction

[barelylivingscholar]

Arlecchino with a daughter tw: unhealthy family relationships, manipulation, and gore(?), suicidal thoughts, unstable/mentally ill daughter. Not for the faint of heart, heavy angst, a somewhat positive ending in the last part(?) (Do not read if uncomfortable)

An: I am backkkkk, second semester and last semester’s finals kept me busyyyyyy but I’m here again to post some stufffffff!! Not hsr related but like I also write for Genshin now, apparently… Will post a part two, I guess? “Father. When am I able to hang around with the others? I have done everything that you’ve asked for.” A young girl asked, to which “Father” responds with, “You need to focus on the task in hand. I still have many more missions for you to do before I set you free.” The girl sighed, knowing very well that she may as well never be able to be allowed to play with the other kids… For a moment, the girl had wished that she wasn’t the only one to deal with this kind of burden. The burden being, the “successor” of “Father.” She wanted to play with the other kids as well, but alas, her father does not permit her to do so. Instead, excuses are made, and the standard Fatui discipline is instilled in her mind, always have to act proper and professional, not allowed to shed a tear, or to feel strong feelings regardless of what the matters are. I hate it here. I do not wish to stay here any longer. Every day feels like I am only made to be the person that “Father” wishes me to be. I am never truly happy. I am sinking. Father was not  family. This whole thing is and always was, a lie. Do I ever get to be free? Perhaps I can set myself free. There is a way.  ̶T̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶q̶̶u̶̶e̶̶s̶̶t̶̶i̶̶o̶̶n̶ ̶i̶̶s̶, ̶a̶̶m̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶̶i̶̶l̶̶l̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶d̶̶o̶ ̶i̶̶t̶? --- After burning the corpse of their enemies, I return to the House of the Hearth, albeit bloody and face that is smudged of dirt, the smell of blood and gasoline lingers around me. With every passing servant, caretakers, and also children as well, unsettled and left shaken up at the sight of me. I stained the carpets red. I wonder if “Father” would notice as the carpet is in the same shade of the blood of her enemies…? Will she punish me and discipline me? Although words are exchanged, no form of physical harm done, I am still left isolated.  Like I am to be a monster kept away from people… I feel caged.

This time, I didn’t bother to clean up and went straight ahead to father’s office. Where I know I’ll be punished for such a careless mistake. “Father, I have returned.” I greet, looking to see her eyes staring straight at me. For once I don’t cower. I simply walk up to her and wait for her response. I have no reason to be scared, right? I don’t think I care anymore. Father’s eyes narrowed. The sight of blood that wasn’t mine, the smell of gasoline, in her eyes, I may as well be the filthiest child in the house. One that is simply, uncouth for the position of “successor.” “Why have you not followed protocol? Especially contingency 8? Have I not taught you well?” Her voice sharp, dissatisfied with my performance. It must be a surprise for her that her “successor” had become disobedient. What is she going to do to me, I wonder? Dispose of me? Or would she find someone else who is to succeed her as the “Father” of the House of the Hearth. “I… I have no other excuses.” I was unable to control my voice. It was shaky, wavering. I hate it. Father’s eyes seemed to had harden. I am interested with what is going to be the left of me once this is all over. I look forward to it. I want her to snap at me. Kill me. Foul words for a child like me, but this is what I planned. Maybe it is best that I sleep in eternal slumber instead rather than live a life full of misery. I have nothing to be grateful here. I am not thankful that I am still alive today. “…You are hereby stripped of the title “successor.” You are no longer worthy of the title. I am disappointed.” Is that it? No severe punishments? My mind raced; I was unable to comprehend why had she punished me in a way that is so… Little? Had she gone soft? I do not remember anything that made her want to punish me lightly. Don’t I deserve… More? My brows had furrowed. “Father” did not miss that. “Daughter… Are you, upset?” Her voice sounded confusing, to me. Why do you suddenly care? I don’t understand you at all. I do not feel safe at all. Are you really “family?” “…I’m fine.” I say, my voice a little tight. Unshed tears on my face, I am no fool. I do not need your love.

“You are now excused.” Never had I ever left her office so quickly after that. I had to get away…! I need to get out of here… I breathed heavily as I ran and ran… Until there is nowhere to go. The heavy snow had engulfed me. And soon… I was unconscious. I awoke to an unfamiliar place. This is not the House of the Hearth. I quickly got up, ignoring the sudden rush of blood shooting up due to how fast I went up. I ignore the throbbing pain on my forehead, I focused on my surroundings instead. Where am I? This place is… Different. I jolted as I felt a hand on my shoulder, immediately backing off and grabbing a hidden dagger in my boot. “Stay there! I will stab you!” I hissed. Glaring at the mysterious figure. They looked… Kind. I am not supposed to feel that way. There are no kind people in this world. Everyone I know will always lie to me, manipulate me for their gain. Just like “Father.” Just like them…

The stranger had knelt down and attempted to soothe me. I only responded with aggression and threats. They weren’t phased at all. “Who are you? I am no ordinary orphan! I am a murderer!” I shouted, clearly agitated. The man in a familiar coat had not reacted violently at all. I am confused. And angry. “I am Pantalone. “Regrator” from the Fatui. I assume you are one of the Knave’s lost children…” My eyes widened at the statement. He is no ordinary man… I should’ve known, I gritted my teeth and gripped my dagger tight. “I am not her orphan! I am no longer a part of that… I could care less if you are a part of the Fatui, I will die gladly in vain if I have to fight for my freedom!” I hissed. The man is amused. I can tell by the look in his eyes. “I have a better proposal for you, child.” “Regrator” inquired. I had not chosen to back down even at the prospect of an offer. “What makes you think I will take it?” I replied, gripping the dagger tight. “I will not surrender you to the Knave. Rather, I’ll take you in as my disciple.”

Disciple? Is this man sick in the head? Why would I agree to that? It seems “Regrator” had heard my thoughts, and so, he added, “Although, it is up to you if you would rather be surrendered back to the Knave… Or join me and I’ll give you a much better purpose, in life… Not that you have any choice on the matter if you decline my offer…” I had no sense of purpose to live for. I am merely an empty shell of what I was once. I have nothing to achieve… In the end, I don't have what it takes to truly end my life. So I will follow my new superior. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be easily obedient. I am rather mad.” And it was the start of something anew…  I had become, “Regrator’s disciple.” I wonder how “Knave” will react to such arrangements… An: Part two will include Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. There will be other characters who will be included as well but, part one's story was set before Lyney became the sucessor of the House of the Hearth. I am thinking of interesting ideas to write for this story and some alternate routes as well... We'll see once I whip up part two.

[bitchesofostwick]

codex: notes from the inquisition

i'm rewriting that letter (THAT one; minor veilguard spoilers for those who haven't gotten there) not because i didn't like it (i loved it) but because i can and because i wanted ellinor to be able to respond. tag list: @elfroot-and-laurels @captastra @mournholdmushroom @vvakarians @galaxywhale @creaking-skull

My love,

It seems one of the pups got to my half-written work before I could, or before Tara could, for that matter. She’s a good mum and usually keeps a close eye on all of them, but if it takes a village to raise a child, I’d dare to say it takes two villages to raise a litter of mabari.

I’ve wrapped up all I could at Skyhold. Our quarters here felt strange enough to return to after all of these years. They feel stranger still without you here beside me. But I leave the fortress behind in good hands, and although I’m surprised at how many Inquisition veterans so quickly answered our calls for aid, I am eternally grateful. I make for Minrathous tomorrow morning, though I loathe to imagine how I’ll fare at sea again for the first time since returning to Ferelden from Kirkwall. I know what you’d say—take the longer route through Orlais. But first, we both know that’s counterintuitive to the urgency at hand, and second, I’d rather let Dorian win a score of chess games against me before I spend a minute longer in Orlais than I have to, for anything.

Speaking of Dorian, he told me in his most recent correspondence that you’d already tried to adopt about ten cats from the streets of Minrathous. Darling, we both know Cat isn’t fond of competition, we’ve got a full house as it is with the new pups. How do we plan to feed these cats? To house them? To transport them back to Ferelden? Please consider…reconsidering.

I digress. Ellinor, I know you are more than capable—of anything, of everything and more that I could never dream of doing myself. You are the strongest person I know. Still, it goes without saying that I worry for you. I fear for your safety—it’s kept me awake, tossing and turning, every night since you left my side. All these years, and I’ve never been able to stop worrying. If I could be there now, be your sword and your shield and your advisor all over again, I’d do it in a heartbeat. In a single breath. All this is to say please stay safe and be careful, and I will be there as soon as my feet can carry me.

All of my love, yours, eternally, Cullen

~~~

Darling,

You’re right about the urgency we’re dealing with. I don’t even have to say this, because you’ve seen it firsthand as well as I have. But in better times, I certainly would suggest you take the longer route to get here. I know you despise Orlais. Believe me when I say you’re going to despise Tevinter as well. In fact, when I told our friends you were on your way, Harding took on an especially sympathetic expression, and Dorian merely cackled in my face. There’s magic abound here, love. And I know you’ve gotten more used to it, and I know you cope better now than you used to, but I still need you to know. It’s not like the south. It’s unchecked and it’s everywhere, and I just want you to be prepared.

Maevaris is looking forward to meeting you—Dorian’s all but sung your praises to her—and so is Rook, though she reminds me at times of Hawke and I imagine your personalities may clash a bit, were the situation at hand not so dire. Morrigan is here as well. I can just about see your eyes rolling as you read this. So get it out of the way now, before you arrive.

As soon as your feet can carry you? Poor Lady. She’s quite spry for a mare her age, and it’d wound her to know you discredit her efforts this way. I promise not to tell her you said that.

I’m sorry—it’s not fair for me to joke. I know you mean every word that you say. In truth, it hurts my heart to see you worry this way, especially after all the pains we’ve gone through to build a quiet life for ourselves after the Inquisition. I wish it were not so. I wish this wasn’t happening. I wish we were at home again, picnicking in the fields with no bigger concern than what fruits we want from the market the next day, or which friends we want to visit with next. I hate that I have to be here. I hate that I’m without you. Worst of all, I hate that you have to travel to Tevinter of all places just to be with me again. If it were in my power, I’d have made sure you never set foot in the city of Minrathous, because I know you’re going to hate it here.

Dorian saw me write that. He said you need to grow a thicker skin.

Anyway. I’m being careful. I promise. I will see you soon, my love.

Yours, Ellinor

P.S. I did not adopt ten cats. Dorian made me put one back because apparently it belonged to the fruit merchant, and I was “stealing.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey sex witch! I want to thank you for the response you gave to the 14yo too. Like that other anon, it’s so reassuring to read the kind of responses I’d have wanted to hear when I was a teen, and file them away for when I’ll be the one giving them. You’ve inspired me to read more about sex-positive language and start filling some of the gaps in my own understanding in a more intentional way.

Along that vein: Do you happen to know of any resources for learning how to respond sex- and body-positively to a (preschool age) child who has discovered masturbation? I’m very fearful of instilling shame about it but I don’t really have anyone I feel safe consulting about this in real life. She knows the names of her body parts, but why exactly she has to cover some of them up and not touch them in public is a wrinkle that’s turning out to be challenging to explain. I looked up that OWL program you mentioned but it looks like that’s for kids just a little older(?) and I haven’t really found anywhere near me with the program anyways. Thank you for any help you can give!

hi anon,

thanks for saying so; that's very kind!

this article is a bit old now (I encountered it while researching a paper for my undergrad nearly a decade ago) but I think holds up tremendously for the eternal issue of how to explain that masturbation is okay but masturbation in front of other people is generally frowned up:

OWL is a great program and I'm grateful for all the kids who have access to it, but you can also take our resources and run! we use books by an author named Robie H. Harris. her books are excellent and accessible for a variety of ages, but they're definitely not the only ones out there, and this article has a good compilation of body positive sex ed books for all ages, including your very young one:

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch 12

A/N: Here's the real post, as promised! Thank you for the feedback I've received over on AO3. I know I'm bad at responding to comments but I read each one of them and hold them close to my heart. This is my grand reentrance back into the world of smut and I'm glad to see you're enjoying it!! As always, your support is the reason this fic still lives and I'm eternally grateful for all of it. Happy reading!! ☺

Rating: Explicit Word count: 6.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Durge (named Tav, mortal) Warnings: 18+, pregnancy, PiV sex, light dom/sub dynamics, AA daydreams of pegging for like 2 secs, slight praise kink if you squint, blood drinking. Summary: Astarion and Tavaria further solidify their bond.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3 ♥ Playlist

The smile around his eyes fades near instantly. For a split second, Astarion's face is blank; devoid of any sign pointing to his thoughts. An uneasiness creeps over Tav as she fears she's pushed him too far. But then she watches his eyelids fall like soft velvet curtains over pools of ruby red, his jaw going slack. The vampire slowly tracks a path down the length of her chest, past her stomach, all the way between their legs. His chest rises as a quiet gasp leaves him.

Perhaps Astarion sees the phantom of her there: He on his back, Tav hovering over him. A phallic toy strapped to her plush hips as she thrusts with wanton abandon into his pliant form. Taking himself in hand, he pumps feverishly over his swollen flesh. Watching, mesmerized, as her full breasts sway with each rock of her hips. She'll kiss him, so passionate and sweetly, the familiar taste of her filling his mouth, until he cries out when his release finds him. With each tremor that ripples through his form, his seed will spill in thick ropes onto his stomach. All thought will then creep to a halt as they bathe in the blissful afterglow of their shared pleasure.

Astarion shudders above her, dragging his eyes lazily back up her form, coming to rest on her face. His chest heaves now with heavy breath. He must have enjoyed the vision his mind conjured, she thinks, judging by the flushness of his cheeks. There’s a twisting in her lower belly as Tav surveys the want laced within his heated gaze. He looks the part of a predator, ready to tear into the evening's succulent feast. Into her.

“Is that all?” Astarion asks in a hushed tone, throat bobbing as he swallows.

Heat prickles beneath her skin–she can feel the blush creeping up her neck as he stalks her movements. “No,” Tav declares, allowing one hand to slowly drift down his chest as she rises to a sitting position. “Lay down.”

There’s a brief flash behind Astarion’s eyes, blinking as he furrows his brow. His mouth twitches as his words struggle to find him, face contorting into something sharp. A few heartbeats pass before he says, “I’m sorry, dear, but am I a dog?” He moves off the bed and stands, shifting his weight to one side. “You want me to do what?” he asks, clearly perturbed.

He's offering her a chance to take back her words. She seems to have struck a nerve.

“Lay down,” Tav insists, placing a hand on his chest again. The arrhythmic thumping of the vampire lord’s heart can be felt beneath her fingertips. Heat radiates off his chest and warms the chill that slides down her back as Astarion's stare intensifies over her, considering her request carefully. But Tav remains sturdy, refusing to waver.

For countless nights it's been she who bends to him. Yet tonight, she desires to claim her place beside him. To show herself as the equal he insists she is. She's been too fearful up until now to take it–afraid it wasn't for her. But, tonight, Tav will willingly step into the space he has so delicately carved for her.

“I mean you no harm, Astarion.” If she knows Astarion’s heart as well as she thinks she does, then she’s sure he needs this reassurance. To be sure he isn't to lay on his back only for her to pierce through his chest. “Please,” she pleads with a gentle tilt of her head, “trust me.”

His eyes scan her face before finally softening; her intuition was correct. Astarion then takes her hand and threads his fingers through hers. Climbing back onto the bed, he encloses their fists, bringing the back of her hand to his mouth. “Is that an order?” he asks sultrily, standing on his knees before her. There's a playful gleam in his eye as he looks upon her.

He’s accepting her invitation. And, more importantly, giving her permission to continue.

His voice feels like a warm caress over her form and desire roars back to life within her. She feels her face ignite, the flames licking their way down her chest and to her core. “Yes,” Tav says, swallowing around the word, “Now, lay down, Astarion Ancunín. Your consort commands it.”

He kisses the back of her hand languidly before falling back gracefully beside her. Astarion keeps their hands entwined as he looks up at her, waiting patiently for his next command. Tav then climbs over him to straddle his thighs. She frees her hand from his, allowing herself a chance to glide over the expanse of his chest. She undoes each button of his dress shirt at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping just short of his belt buckle.

“And what more does my consort wish?” Astarion asks, voice ladened with passionate desire.

Popping the last button of his shirt free, she then glides her hands back up his chest. She sinks her nails into bare skin as she says, “To ride you until you lose all composure.”

Astarion chuckles darkly. “As you wish,” he replies. Tav feels the rumble of his voice beneath her fingertips as he runs his hands up over her thighs, squeezing just below her hips. He then drags her forward, encouraging her to grind over the hardened length still trapped within his trousers.

Tav moans, walls clenching around the promise of what's surely to come, but she manages to wrangle Astarion's hands free from her, slamming them down above his head. “No touching!” she states with a huff.

Astarion stiffens beneath her, eyes blowing wide, and for a moment she believes it's terror she reads within them. Had she accidentally brought back memories of him being restrained against his will? Chained, kept in the kennels for days on end? But just as quickly he relaxes under her, the vampire's eyes drifting closed. The panic in her subsides.

“That's hardly fair,” Astarion groans. Tav releases his hands and sits back, looking him over. He keeps his hands above his head as his hips suddenly buck up into the air, searching for something, anything, to connect with. He undulates unabashedly beneath her, over and over again. The display of such wanton desperation is doing more to her than she'd have thought; she catches Astarion crack an eye open to survey her response. One corner of his mouth tugs upward in a sky smirk.

Cheeky bastard.

His shirt has since fallen open, exposing the rippling of his taut stomach and chest to her hungry gaze. She eyes the golden medallion around his neck, set with dark red rubies. Continuing down his stomach, Tav eyes the tenting just below his belt. He's hard, painfully so as evidenced by the outline in his trousers. She traces it all the way to the top of his thigh, daring to reach out and place a hand over where his tip should be. Tav grinds her palm lightly over the fabric; she's rewarded with a small twitch of his cock beneath her hand.

“A-are you actually going to do anything,” Astarion asks between a sharp intake of breath, “or do you take some kind of twisted pleasure in seeing me squirm?”

Tav laughs, finally cupping him fully, “I did warn you, no?”

His hips lift into her touch, a hiss slipping through clenched teeth. “Such a cruel mistress,” he says with a bite of sarcasm. His cheeks take on a pinkish hue and it spreads across his face, eyes falling closed once again.

Perhaps, Tav thinks while looking back at him, Gale is right. Maybe Astarion does wish for her to help keep him in line. Keep him under control. It makes sense that he wouldn't entrust this part of himself to just anyone. To turn over and give someone his back–and to possibly get on his back–would be the ultimate sign of trust he could give to another person.

“Astarion,” Tav says, rousing the vampire’s attention. He’s still in the position she placed him in as he opens his eyes open fully, and she leans over to plant a kiss over the tip of his nose. “If at any point you become uncomfortable, tell me. Don't endure it for my sake.”

It’s a kindness he has always afforded her–the ability to say no. To feel empowered while entrusting herself to him. And he has always made good on his promise to carry her through, regardless of the state of their relationship. Respecting her right to be an individual–her right to choose–even if he hasn’t always agreed with her. Tav can think of few ways to thank him other than this.

A few heartbeats pass before Astarion nods his head in agreement. He lifts his head and captures her lips in a chaste kiss, giving her a smile. “That’s all rather thoughtful, my dear, but may we return to more pressing matters?” he says with a slight thrust of his hips.

Tav grounds her pelvis firmly down onto his, eliciting a shared moan between them. “H-hey,” she stammers, sucking in a sharp breath as Astarion undulates beneath her, “I said no touching!”

“Darling, I’m only trying to draw urgency to how brief our night will be if you don’t get me out of these clothes,” Astarion groans, flexing his hands open and closed against the sheets as their cores collide. There’s a slight twinge of impatience to his words, and Tav has half a mind to wonder if she truly can make him finish just like this. 

The outline of his clothed length rubs delectably along her sex. The roughened texture of his slacks against her clit sends a wave of arousal coursing up into her belly, a moan slipping free from her lips. Astarion repeats the motion again, pulling another strangled sound from her throat. He hisses as he tosses his head back against the bed, eyes flitting closed.

“More than willing to help, Astarion, but humor me first,” Tav croons as her fingers fumble with his belt buckle. “On the nights you think of us, what is it that comes to mind?” Beneath his belt are snaps, she realizes, and with each one that pops free, she watches Astarion’s cock shift closer and closer to unsheathing itself from the confines of the fabric. She halts as she approaches the last button, waiting patiently for his response.

The vampire’s groan grows more desperate with each button that comes loose. “Is that really necessary for you to know?” he retorts, writhing beneath her. He’s lifting his hips in earnest now, as if to undo the buttons himself by sheer force.

“Until you do, I guess you’re stuck like this,” she says. Despite the fire raging in her belly over the sight before her, Tav remains aloof. “Surely that’s no challenge for the strongest vampire to have ever lived, no?”

Astarion lifts his head quickly, eyes fixated on her. “When did you become this wicked?” he snaps. Tav would think he’s offended, if not for the flush of bewilderment across his features. On second thought, he sounds almost surprised. Impressed, even.

“I’ve learned from the best,” she declares with a lilt, smiling deviously. Slowly, the old sense of comfort is coming back to her. When they were just two people making the best of their mutual predicament. Two people sharing secrets with one another; exploring one another.

Living.

The sense of them is returning to her. Tav can barely fight how her smile widens at the thought.

Astarion flops back down on the bed with an audible sigh. “If you must know…” he begins, “I think of when we used to be together. You visiting my tent nearly every evening. Laying with me, talking, laughing.” He places his hands over his chest, drawing another breath. “Then, inevitably, you'd climb into my lap…and I’d drink.” There's a short pause before he continues, “I think of the way you’d move beneath me. Your hands clinging to my shoulders. Your short, breathy moans.” The vampire snickers. “You'd do your best to keep quiet for the sake of the others, but I remember more than a handful of nights where I'd have to put my hand over your mouth.”

He sits up on his elbows, casting Tav a longing glance. “My original goal, as you know, was to gain your favor. And it was through these interactions that I began to realize the…” Astarion looks off to the side, expression falling flat. “...challenges I possessed when it came to intimacy. But some nights… It was too much for me to bear. The desire to have you screamed louder than my displeasure with myself.” He shakes his head.” “With you, it's almost as if it didn't matter anymore. I would actually forget, on some occasions, how deeply that feeling ran.”

Tav sits frozen, mouth slightly parted. Her hands are still on the final button to Astarion's pants. She remembers all he says vividly, feeling the same pull of nostalgia in her chest that he likely does, too. The anger she had felt when Astarion first revealed his plan to her., the betrayal–it all comes rushing back to her now. But she remains silent, listening.

“Each night you allowed me to have you, I held your mortality within my hands. Basic instinct screamed for me to continue past the point of no return. Until I felt the very last pump of your blood down my throat. Until every minute movement of your body ceased. Because I'd done it once before; that first time, when you’d trusted me.

“And I remember the sheer panic that washed over me when I realized what I'd done.” Astarion’s lips curl back over his teeth in a snarl, fangs poking over his bottom lip. “The disgust. The shame. Having given myself over to my most primitive urges, as if I lacked higher reasoning altogether.” He swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering. “A monster; that’s what I was. Some foul beast. I knew from that moment forward I never wanted to be that again. And never again would I subject you to that side of me.”

“And what of all the people you sacrificed in the name of power?” Tav asks, solemnly. “Do their deaths not make you a monster, too, Astarion?”

Astarion meets her eyes–his gaze is hollow. Empty. “They were as good as dead the moment I or one of my accursed siblings laid eyes on them. By the time they stepped through the doors of that monastery, their hourglass had already run half through.” The vampire lord shakes his head again, eyes falling closed. “When we found them in the crypts… That faraway look in their eyes?” His hands ball into tight fists. “They were starving. Mad. They craved the sweet release of a final death. It’s not something I expect you to understand, having never experienced the hunger yourself. The desperation it brings one to.” Astarion then lifts his head, finding her eyes again. “You’d do anything to make it stop. Believe me.

“They were to be consumed, just as I would have been. Their fates were set centuries ago. And if they were to be sacrificed, I could think of no better way to honor them than by having them become part of something, someone, better than Cazador.” A harrowing smile creeps across his features. “And as an added bonus… Everyone wins then, don’t they?”

Tav feels her heart nearly drop through her stomach. So disconnected, he can be at times. It’s an odd gift Astarion has, being able to throw his emotions to and fro at will. Does he mean all he says? Not always; she knows that as fact. Does he truly revel in the twisted satisfaction of having set those poor people free from their suffering? Believing that he was their savior? Their god?

That…may actually be true.

“You baffle me,” Tav tells him, pinching the bridge of her nose. If this were anyone else, she would be terrified by such an admission. Perhaps she’s growing used to his mind. “What makes me so different?”

Or, maybe, she’s more curious than anything else.

“Oh, my dear… I grew to love you,” admits Astarion, sheepishly. “Rather quickly, actually. So quickly, in fact, that I didn't know what it was until after Cazador.” The vampire's expression falls sullen as he lies back down on the bed. “Until I’d already lost you.”

She looks down at her hands, rolling the fabric of his half-open slacks between her fingers. She recalls feeling the pull of his love on more than one occasion. Though, she had convinced herself it was merely a fallacy. A pleasant idea to help lull her to sleep at night. 

Then, after Cazador, the ascension… She had no choice but to divest herself of those feelings, lest she fall to ruins. Force herself to willfully ignore how far Astarion had fallen. How he’d become an imposter of the man she loved so intensely. It was all she could do to protect herself. To save herself from the agony of such a heavy loss.

“I'm here now,” Tav says quietly, meeting his eyes.

A smile forms on Astarion's face. “As am I. And I will not make the same mistake twice.”

“Which is?”

The question leaves her mouth almost instinctively, barely any thought behind it.

“Losing you,” Astarion declares, boldly.

To love Astarion is to feel like a ship sailing across roughened seas. Tall walls of water careen against the ship’s hull, threatening to breach and drown her whole. But just as she thinks she can take no more, the water calms. The sky parts. Sunshine warms her sea-chilled bones. And she finds herself lounging freely across the deck, soaking up every last bit of comfort the sun has to offer.

Tav lurches forward, stealing a passionate kiss against Astarion’s lips. Her fingers undo the final snap to his pants and she reaches within, pulling his half-hardened length free. As Tav swipes her tongue over his lips, his mouth parts, granting her entrance, and she moans openly into the vampire’s mouth. 

“You truly are a fool, Astarion,” she tells him between kisses and swipes of tongue. Their teeth clash as they fight for dominance, her hand slowly pumping his cock back to attention as the other tangles within the moonlight tressess atop his head. She whines as she feels him grow rigid in her palm.

“Always for you,” Astarion growls against her mouth. “Only ever for you.” He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, sliding them down his thighs along with his small clothes. Tav helps pull them free from his legs and tosses them off the side of the bed before reclaiming his length within her grasp. His hands move to hold her arse, but he remembers the rules he’d sworn to follow earlier. He recoils at the last second, choosing to fist the sheets next to him, nails digging into the silky fabric.

Tav peels her hand free from his cock just long enough to gather spit in her palm. Bringing her hand back down, she slickens his shaft, feeling him twitch against her hand, and moves to hover above him. There's a brief exchange of glances; Astarion gives her an approving nod.

Without so much as another word, Tav lines him up under her and sinks down. She winces as she stretches to accommodate him, but the pain fades quickly as she starts to relax around him. Sighs slip freely from both of them as she seats herself fully in his lap, giving herself another moment to adjust.

Astarion's mouth falls open, grabbing the bed sheets in earnest now. His eyes roll back into his head as Tav steadies herself, laying her hands flat against his chest. She leans forward and kisses the side of his neck. Taking him is easier at this angle, she notes. 

Astarion tilts his head back, and for once it's he who gives her access to the curve of his neck. She latches onto it lovingly, suckling softly at the smooth flesh. The small bump of her stomach connects with the muscled plane of his the further she leans over him. A bolt of pleasure shoots down her spine at the contact, and Astarion moans wantonly as her walls contract wildly around his cock.

“Gods, Tavaria, move already,” he snipes, impatiently. Through small muscle tremors, Tav can feel how strongly he fights the urge to buck into her tight heat. “Unless you actually want to kill me.”

“If you had any idea what it’s like to take you, you’d be doing the same,” she replies. Yet she shows him a fraction of mercy, giving a short rise and fall of her hips. She steels herself against the familiar twinge of pain at the end of her tunnel when she seats herself again and again–it thankfully never comes. 

Now emboldened, she sets a languid pace over him. The low rumble of Astarion’s responding laugh vibrates through his neck against her lips. 

He enjoyed her little remark.

“Ass,” she teases, biting playfully over the scars embedded in his neck, running her tongue along the indents. 

“Tell me, my darling love,” the vampire moans, legs bending behind her at the knees. “Do you, too, think of it?”

Tav sits up, using the tops of Astarion’s knees as leverage to continue fucking herself on him. Wavy auburn hair cascades down her shoulders like a veil; it bounces over her breasts with every rise and fall of her body. “T-think of what?” she asks within a stuttering gasp.

Astarion can barely keep his eyes open as he looks at her, following the hypnotic swaying of her heavy breasts. His hands rise, likely to hold them, but he curls them into fists, still trying his best to adhere to their game. He groans in frustration before saying, “Tasting me after I’ve tasted you?”

Heat floods her face as a shiver races through her. Her mouth drops open, nothing but a sigh coming out. The coil in her belly winds tighter–does he somehow know she was thinking the same earlier? Tav picks up her pace as she snakes a hand between her legs. She’s a mess over him, arousal soaking the base of his cock. It acts as lucious lubrication as she circles feverishly over her neglected clit, short ragged breaths escaping her lungs.

“You have,” Astarion muses below her, shifting to finally shrug off his shirt. He lay back again, fisting a hand through his hair while throwing the other above his head. He sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and releases a drawn out sigh. “You have the hunger now, don’t you?”

There’s little use in lying to him, now.

She falls against him again, head falling into the crook of his neck, and moans her response into his skin. “Yes,” she cries. Saliva pools thick in her mouth as the thought flourishes. She can smell his blood under his skin–a rich, metallic scent. It roars through his veins like a rapid river.

Her head swims. The urge rises, her stomach toiling. Tav clings to the single shred of reasoning she has left as her anticipation mounts.

“I could help, you know,” says Astarion with a huff. “All you’d have to do is let me touch you again.”

The phantom blaring of sirens rings loud in her ears. Any mention of Astarion drinking even a drop of her blood should be off the table given her current state, but the thirst only grows more erratic the further she tries burying it. 

A surprised gasp slips past her lips as Astarion begins meeting her thrusts from below, slamming deliciously against the backs of her thighs. Tav holds her hands out next to his head to brace herself, rocking hard to meet the new rhythm he's set.

“I, wouldn't need much,” Astarion says. He speaks with a staccato between quick snaps of his hips into the intoxicating heat of her core. “Only a pinprick, really.” 

Slam. 

“All–” 

Slam. 

“–I would need–” 

Slam. 

“–is one bite, love.”

She should scold him, she thinks for a brief moment, having broken the terms of their agreement. But the temptation Astarion dangles before her–the opportunity to taste him–wins over. There's also the insatiable lust quickly saturating her mind.

“Fine,” Tav grounds out, “but from my fingers, please.” It’s the very least she can ask for.

Astarion smiles mischievously, taking her left hand from next to his head. He lowers her fingers to his mouth, pressing each tip tenderly against his lips. “Of course,” he rasps, hips halting their assault for now. When he reaches her ring finger, he presses the pad flat against his bottom lip, tongue flicking out. “Whatever my treasure desires.”

Tav watches as her finger disappears into Astarion’s mouth. His tongue swirls around the intrusion until it bumps into a pointed tooth along his lower jaw. They stare heavily at one another, Tav’s chest rising and falling with each labored breath, and then she feels it–the familiar sting of his fang piercing her flesh. It’s but a momentary discomfort; she hisses when she feels the contraction of his mouth over her finger.

Astarion's eyes flit closed as he hums around the digit. His other hand wraps around her forearm, keeping it steady as he feeds. A thought crosses her mind as she observes him: how beautiful he looks like this. Silver hair, flushed complexion, as bare as the day he was born. Her eyes trace the height of his cheekbones, all the way the sharpness of his ears. Tav leans over and kisses one ear in an ascending fashion, all the way to its point.

Astarion's hum shifts deeper now, to more of a growl, as he careens his head into her touch. The grip on her forearm tightens. The suction on her finger increases. “Dearest,” he says between the intrusion in his mouth, “this may be–” a long moan escapes him then as her tongue works over the shell of his ear, ”–ooh–ver, sooner if you don't stop–!” His cock twitches inside her. There's another pulling of the coil deep in her belly.

Tav laughs playfully. “My turn, then,” she whispers into his ear, hot puffs of breath rushing down his neck. She feels him shiver against her.

Reluctantly, Astarion relinquishes the finger, not bothering to swipe up the thin trail of blood left on his lips. Instead, the vampire feels about his neck for his scars. He then lifts his hand above his face, inspecting his nails, before bringing them against the soft, sensitive skin.

With a single pass of a sharpened nail, Astarion carves a gash into the side of his neck. Crimson blossoms quickly over the wound; Tav's nose twitches. A bouquet of iron and something richer–perhaps the wine Astarion partook in earlier–hits her senses. Her vision tunnels; she moves her head closer to the scent’s source.

“That's it, little love,” Astarion coos softly to her, raising a hand to comb through her hair. He gives an encouraging push of her head, guiding her face closer to his neck. “Drink,” the vampire commands.

Drink.

The word reverberates through her mind until the final tether holding her together snaps. Hot saliva quickly fills her mouth. It slides down the sides of her chin in thin rivulets as she opens her mouth, closing her lips over the cut on Astarion’s neck.

And she sucks.

His blood hits her tongue and her entire body is suddenly engulfed within a raging inferno. All that matters is getting more of this exquisite drink in her, and how quickly it can be done. The hand in Tav’s hair tightens, holding her tightly against Astarion while his other settles on her waist. She sucks fervently at his neck, groaning like a rabid animal.

“Such a good girl for me,” Astarion moans aloud. Her name always sounds so wonderful when he says it; a sense of pride swelling within her. “But I think that's e-enough, treasure.” His hips twitch and he thrusts shallowly into her, drawing out a shared groan from both of them.

The fog having lifted some from her mind, Tav unwillingly pulls herself away from his neck. She swallows the last few splashes of blood lingering across her tongue, throwing her head up. Her body buzzes like a live wire; she’s overcome by a feeling she’s never felt before. Despite the haze of her bloodlust, her mind feels sharper, her limbs more powerful. Every physical ache and pain that plagued her day to day…gone. 

Alleviated. 

She feels…younger. Faster. Stronger. That despite her current state, she could run for miles without ever stopping for rest. Panic rises in her chest, but it’s different. Not the familiar kind that usually has her tumbling down the abyss. 

No, perhaps this isn’t panic.

It’s excitement.

When Tav drops her head, Astarion is already looking at her. His eyes are glazed over, small flecks of her blood having already dried on his lips. “How do you feel?” he asks.

“What is this?” Tav asks, gravely. “Magic? Since when do you dabble in magic?”

A haughty laugh breaks free from Astarion before he says, “I know a spell or two, love, if you’re so inclined as to remember.” He raises a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “But that’s not what this is.” The hand falls to her chin, his thumb brushing lightly over her lips. “This, is what I have to offer you. As I am now.” He invites her closer to his face; their lips barely touching. “This feeling? Is me.”

She stares blankly at him. “So…” she starts, trying to gather her thoughts, “does this mean, that I’m now..?”

“No, no,” he chuckles, “you’re still very much human. Just, improved.” He tilts his head to the side, smiling up at her. “Somewhat.” When her expression fails to change, Astarion says, “It’s a gift, dearest. That’s all.”

Tav sits back in his lap, groaning softly as the tip of his cock nudges her cervix. She lifts her hand to inspect the finger Astarion bit into, only to find it completely healed. And as she looks over his neck, Tav notes the wound is gone. Healed, as well. 

“Is this forever?” she asks, curiously.

“Perhaps,” he says, rising into a sitting position. He runs his hands up and down her sides, placing a gentle kiss to her nose. “There’s really only one way to find out.”

Tav swallows thickly around the lump that gathers in the back of her throat. 

The possibility of being forever changed–altered–by him, unsettles her. But is she truly such a stranger to change? Has she not already made decisions that would forever change the trajectory of her life? And even now she changes still, with each new day that dawns, by way of the babe that quickens within her womb. By the very air she breathes and the sun that warms her face.

And as she enters every season of her life, she will continue to change and be forever shaped by every decision she has allowed into her life, either by conscious or unconscious thought.

This is what it means to live.

She is the culmination of all she has survived up until this point. Everything that has threatened to warp her. She has faced her challenges headfirst and persisted through them all. The fact that she lives to see this moment stands as proof enough. 

She still lives, and will continue to do so, through every obstacle life puts before her.

“Okay,” is Tav’s quiet reply. She lifts her hips slightly, starting a languid rhythm over him.

“Okay, what?” Astarion asks between a breathy moan, hands dipping below her arse. He rocks her faster over him, urging her pace.

The difference about this time, however, is that there's no need to go through this transition period alone. If she extends her hand, someone else will be there to hold it. And all she has to do is put forth that hand.

“We’ll find out together,” she says.

Astarion huffs a laugh, his hands traveling up her back. He pulls her closer to him and Tav dips her head to rest her forehead against his. “Tavaria…” he moans. They exchange hot breaths, and it isn’t long before she’s kissing him, her tongue seeking entrance into his mouth near immediately. She can still taste herself on his tongue–bright with a mellow aftertaste, like an aged wine–and it only stokes the flames of her desire further as she continues grinding herself in his lap.

Astarion clutches her back, one hand resting on the nape of her neck as her groans into her mouth. A fang snags on her bottom lip; he nearly curses as the rich vintage of her blood mingles with their saliva. “Tav, darling, I–” he stammers between their feverish exchange, “I'm going to–”

She can feel how close he is: cock twitching against her walls, swelling every so subtly. The roaring in her belly is quickly reaching its crescendo by how full she suddenly feels; it won’t take much more for her to come crashing down. “It’s okay, Astarion,” she whispers against his lips. Tav snakes a hand down between them, rubbing circles over her clit. “Let go.”

Nails bite into the soft flesh of her upper back and she manages to suck in a sharp breath before Astarion crushes his mouth over hers. Holding her tightly to him, he groans as his release crashes over him in waves. It isn't long before she follows quickly behind, breaking their kiss with a gasp.

The room is silent save for their shared breathing. Tav rests her head along Astarion’s shoulder. They're content to stay like this for a few minutes before she reluctantly lifts herself from his lap. The evidence of his release slips from between her legs as she rises, trickling down her thighs. She shivers from the sensation, flopping down on the bed next to Astarion, thoroughly spent. Content.

Astarion is the first to break the silence as he says, “I guess there's no denying the babe’s lineage, now.” He joins her by laying back.

Tav lifts her head to meet his gaze, face set in a scowl. She doesn't know whether to laugh or smack him, given the haze still thick over her mind. “You’re still on about this?” she asks, frustrated.

He smiles. “I jest, dear. It’s just…” Astarion turns on his side and runs a hand over the small swelling of her stomach. “It's…hard. To believe this is real.” He flattens his palm over her abdomen, below her navel. “I had nothing for so long that I–” Tav follows the bobbing of his throat as Astarion swallows. “I resigned myself to it. To that being my fate.”

There's a tugging in her chest. To think of the loneliness Astarion must have endured for two centuries despite his interactions with others. All hollow, all for a purpose. Never just for him, or because he even wanted them. It's enough to nearly bring her to tears; how tortured his heart is. Trampled and ripped to shreds over and over–the network of scar tissue that's woven it back together, often out of sheer necessity.

“It doesn't have to be your future, Astarion,” Tav says, threading her hand through the one he lays on her belly. “I'd prefer it not to be.”

“No,” answers the vampire lord, shaking his head, “it won’t. So long as you and the life we've somehow willed into this world are still here.”

Her heart swells, and Tav gives him a genuine smile. She turns over, her back to him, and slots herself against his chest. “Should we return to the party?” she ponders.

“They can see themselves out,” says Astarion while throwing an arm over her waist, accepting her into his space. “The only thing I wish for is to fall asleep beside my beloved consort.” He pulls her closer into his chest before quickly adding, “Should she wish the same.”

These last few nights have been a whirlwind. Had anyone hinted that they would end with her and Astarion laying naked in one another’s arms, she would have laughed until she cried.

“She does,” replies Tav with a girlish chuckle. One she can finally afford to give. She turns her body within his hold to plant a kiss against his cheek. “Goodnight, my Lord.” Astarion then returns the gesture, kissing her gently on the temple. “Sweet dreams, my Lady.”

[nemaliwrites]

“What can I do for you, Lady Graham de Vanily?” asks Fu. He takes a sip of his tea, and makes a pleased expression. Amélie bites down a smile.

Her tea is always something that she's done the best. Even her husband — late husband, she reminds herself — couldn't find anything to complain about.

Not for lack of trying, of course.

“Actually, Master Fu,” says Amélie, “I think there's something I can do for you.”

His eyebrows raise, betraying his interest. “You don't have to call me Master, you know,” he says. “I usually save that for a...certain group of people.”

“I’m aware,” says Amélie.

“Now, what is it you think you can do for me?”

Though he surely doesn't mean it like that, Amélie finds herself bristling at the skepticism in his voice. Yet another person that looks down on her. At this point, she should be used to it.

“There's something that you've lost, isn't there,” she says. “Something you're trying to find. What if I told you I knew where it was?”

Fu's teacup clatters on the saucer when he places it down. “Lady Graham de Vanily,” he begins softly.

“Amélie,” she corrects him, but isn't surprised when he doesn't listen.

“If you speak about what I think you speak about, then...there is only one way you could know that.”

“I know,” she replies, just as softly.

“Then are you admitting to it?”

“In a way,” she says. “What if I told you that...the thing that was stolen from you, it came to me much in the same way?”

“And what way is that?”

“Force,” says Amélie.

Fu's eyes cloud with knowledge. Not for the first time, Amélie wonders how old this man sitting in front of her is. What kinds of things he has seen in his lifetime.

Even in hers, she's seen things that she never once believed could be true, things that have shaken up her entire worldview. Was he the same way? Or were those things his worldview to begin with, and his life was only shaken up when they were taken from him?

She doesn't think she wants to know the answer.

“If that's true,” Master Fu begins slowly, “then that would make us allies, would it not?”

“Yes,” says Amélie, taking another sip of tea. “I quite agree.”

“But I must confess that I wouldn't make the best ally. After all, I have nothing to offer you.”

“Oh, I don't think that's true,” says Amélie. “You don't give yourself enough credit.” Or me, she thinks but does not say. “You have the power to return things to the way they were. To see justice doled out. And that's what you want? Isn't that its own reward?”

Fu does not respond.

“This person that has what I'm looking for,” he says finally, “would I be correct in assuming they are someone close to you?”

“In a way,” she admits. “But not anymore. I don't know who they are anymore. I don't know if I ever did.”

Fu hums, and he reaches across the table to lay his hand over hers. “This can't be easy for you,” he says, “but I hope you know that I am eternally grateful for what you're doing.”

She blinks, unexpectedly touched. “Thank you,” she says. She reaches to the table on the side, brings forth a magazine.

On the cover is her brother-in-law.

[moonstarrr]

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Chapter 2- Decisions

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After the drama unfolded Amina needed to get away from everything. Now residing with her best friend Bri, she now has the opportunity to come to terms with how she truly feels but, is she ready or willing to admit it.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT consent to my work being shared on any other website or platform. Likes,Re-blogs and comments are welcome <3. I also do not own any of the pictures used credits go to the rightful owners.

Pairings: OC! Black Women X Roman Reigns

Days quickly turned into weeks with Amina having no contact with Roman . She was trying to distract herself in any way possible. The more the days dragged on the more her sadness turned to anger and eventually exhaustion . Now staying at her best friends house she was able to find some peace and most importantly be away from Roman.The only things that remained on her mind was Roman and the argument they had.

The sound of rain hitting the large glass apartment windows filled the living room. Watching the cars drive bye on the street and thinking to herself about who could’ve been and what could still be. The sound of keys and a door knob being turned pulled her to look at the small hallway, and seeing Bri walk out with bags of groceries in her hands. Amina, was eternally grateful that Bri was allowing her to stay over and the time was much needed anyway .

“Aminaaaaa” Bri said with a laughter and happiness trailing her voice seeing her friend back to her regular state.

“Briiiiiii” Amina repeated back matching her friends tone, letting out a slight chuckle at the end.

Although the time was nice being at her friends place and being away from everything that was bringing her stress. Her thoughts somehow always drifted off to Roman. She would refuse to admit it to anyone else but to herself, oh she knew he was constantly on her mind and there was nothing she could do about it. Amina pulled up the grey blanket too her stomach and turned fully to now face her friend who was sitting right next to her.

“So I wanna know how you’re feeling. I didn’t want to ask you if was going to wait until you said something but curiosity is killing me girl” Bri said while placing her hand on Amina’s knee, searching her eyes to see if she can already tell what the answer is gonna be herself. Amina took a sigh and played with her earring.

“Well…honestly I’m just there” Amina said calmly. She didn’t know how to truly explain how she felt at that point in time. Well, she knew how she felt for sure but she was not willing to tell anyone. Before Bri could respond she looked at Amina, the girl she knew all too well with a confused look and sucked her teeth lightly.

“Amina I need you to be serious because I know deep down that you just being there is not how you feel” Bri said. Amina sat up straight and sighed. She should’ve known that the response she gave wouldn’t fly with Bri.

“Okay,okay I’m not okay I know that and so do you but I’m taking it one day at a time I have my good days and my days Bri” Amina said with a sense of confidence being that at that point that’s the only way she could describe what she’s feeling.

“Okay Amina fair enough but do you have any idea on what your gonna do” Bri asked that like a question.

“What do you mean what am I gonna do?” Amina asked inquisitively.

Bri tilted her head the the side and let out a dramatic sigh

“Girl with your man obviously”.

Amina wasn’t starting to like the way the conversation was starting to go . To try and get away from the tension she got up and walked to the fridge to try and grab herself something to drink and snack on. However Bri was right on her tail and not willing to let the whole conversation go. Bri took a seat on the tall black and beige stools while Amina put her glass of water and leftover sandwich on the kitchen counter while she leaned over to look at her friend.

“Bri I really don’t have a answer for you concerning that one because I haven’t been thinking of him” Amina felt so weird saying that straight up lie knowing that’s what she was doing 24/7.

“Do you really expect me to believe that Amina? You mean to tell me that all these weeks have went by and you haven’t thought about him once” Bri said with a chuckle finding it extremely hard to believe that it would ever be possible for Amina to do that.

Amina let out a groan and drank some of her water.

“Do we really have to talk about this Bri? Why don’t we talk about your day” Amina said urgently trying to change the subject but that was gonna be harder than she thought. Bri got up and pulled her friend, Amina away from her food and made her face her and kept her hands on her shoulders.

“Amina, listen to me love . I’m worried about you because you haven’t said much of anything and I just know you’re bottling up your emotions. So even if it’s just this one time I need you to be real with me and most importantly yourself” Bri said in a stern tone. The last thing Bri wanted was for Amina to be in denial . She probably wasn’t the one to try and give Amina closure but she wanted to at least try and help her work towards it and that starts with her acknowledging her feelings.

“Alright, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. It’s like no matter how hard I try he’s always in my thoughts. The truth of the matter is ….is that I still love him and I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to let that love go” After Amina said that she took a deep breath and drank the last bit of her water.

“Why do you think you can’t let go of that love babes?”

“Because I’ve known this man since we were in high school. That’s a long ass time. He’s one of the only men that I trust and truly loved. But at the same time I feel like an idiot because I gave up all these years of my life to be with him just for him to cheat on me” Amin stopped for a while replying all what she just said in her head.

“Look Amina I’m not one to get involved in other people’s business but at the end of the day you gotta do what you feel is right, I just can’t bear to see you so hurt again” Bri said with slight concern in her voice.

“I know Bri, but part of me is scared to even try to go down that second chance road…look I’ll just wait and see” Amina said with the thoughts becoming too much for her and evidently she just wanted to stop talking about it.

“Just know that I’m gonna always be here for you no matter what” Bri looked up at her friend reassuring her of who she is to her. Bri wrapped her arms around Amina and so did Amina. After a couple of seconds Amina let go and started to clean up. After washing up her dishes Amina headed back to the couch and opened her phone to her text messages but before she can text anything she made sure Bri wasn’t anywhere near because this was something she wanted to do in private herself.

Amina stared at her message log and found the name ‘My Fiancé 💍’ and stared at it for while.

“Should I really do this”

The question constantly repeating in her head.

She opened the message itself and started typing. She was constantly pressing the delete button trying to find the right words to say the right thing.

“We can talk now.”

She quickly pressed send and dropped her phone waiting to see if it’ll go off. And not even 2 minutes later the sound of a notification filled her ears and she picked up the phone and looked at the Notification Center in her phone and saw the words

My Fiancé 💍 :

“Where and when Amina?”

[propenseverbosity]

No Good Choices (WIP) - Rook/Lucanis

I posted a bit of this earlier in a reblog, but I actually have a lot more of it written. Will it eventually be a long-fic? Idk. But I'm still gonna write it!

Btw this is My Rook.

(Spoilers for The Decision in act 1)

Lucanis practically sprinted back to Treviso the moment Harding told him about the dragon. Of course he’d pleaded for Rook’s help, but he never actually expected her to show up. Minrathous was her home. The Shadow Dragons were her family, much like the Crows were his. He expected to face the dragon with the remaining assassins and either defeat it, or die trying.

So, when Rook brought Davrin and his pet griffon, armed to the teeth to help lead the charge, he couldn’t help feeling shocked. Happy, and eternally grateful she’d listened to his reasoning, but still shocked to his core when he realized they might actually have a chance.

After they drove off the ice-breathing monstrosity, Rook barely stopped to take stock of the battle before rushing back to the eluvian, determined to help Minrathous as well.

Lucanis only stayed to make sure the Crows had everything under control, before he took off to follow her. Contract or not, the least he could do was help her protect her home.

After what she’d done for him– for Treviso– he was fairly certain he would follow Rook directly into the Black City if she asked.

…

The second dragon attack left blight tendrils pierced through entire buildings. Countless innocent bystanders lied sick, or dying, in the streets. Even the Viper himself had been Blighted– an unfortunate consequence of taking on one of Ghilan'nain's monsters.

It wasn't lost on Lucanis that Treviso would have suffered the same fate if Rook hadn’t shown up to help. As he wandered through the streets in search of her, he silently vowed to do anything he could to pay her back.

Lucanis eventually found her with Neve and the other Shadows. Or at least, whoever was left of them.

“This is your city too,” Neve snarled. “I thought you… never mind.” she added, with a defeated sigh.

“I’m sorry. I thought I could be faster.” Rook answered. “I always planned to help Minrathous, but I couldn’t be in two places at once. If Treviso had-”

“Treviso?” Neve interrupted. “Don’t you mean Lucanis?”

Lucanis stopped in his tracks before either of them could notice.

“What?” Rook asked, verbalizing his own thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

“Rook, I’m not blind. Can you honestly say he wasn’t a part of your decision?”

“Hey, I made the call because someone had to.” Rook argued. “Don’t make it sound like this was easy.”

Neve wasn't convinced. “You knew the Venatori would take advantage of an opportunity like this. You made the Crow a priority because you’re sweet on him, and look what happened.” she added, gesturing to the devastation surrounding them.

Stunned by the mere suggestion, Lucanis waited for Rook to correct her. It couldn’t be true. Why would Rook sacrifice a chance to help her own city, just for him?

“Neve… I-” Rook began, but when she opened her mouth to respond, nothing came out. Her hesitation was enough to cement any of Neve’s doubts.

“I’m going to be here a while.” She turned away, preparing to aid some of the other injured Shadows. “You should go.”

The pain in Rook's expression as Neve walked away was enough to shatter his heart. Neither of them deserved this.

Before Lucanis could make his way towards Rook, Tarquin wasted no time in taking Neve’s place.

“You’ve been nothing but trouble since you came back.” He spat. “Half of us are dead, and the Venatori are coming for the rest.”

Lucanis had seen Rook slice through three Venatori with a single lightning bolt, stare down a blighted dragon, and taunt a risen elven god without even breaking a sweat. But under the scrutiny of a single Templar, all she could do was stare at the ground.

He witnessed the slow shift in her expression as shame and guilt gave way to rage.

“If it were up to the Shadows, I never would have come back at all! You were the ones who sent me into hiding, remember?”

“Because you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” Tarquin stepped closer, looking poised to strike at any moment.

“If I'm so much trouble, then why did you need me here so badly?”

“You know damn well we needed the help. I thought you were trying to make up for Nessus, not make everything worse. So much for putting the cause first.”

Lucanis felt the demon itching to weigh in. Spite fought for control to step between her and Tarquin.

‘He. Will not. Hurt Rook.’

On this, they were in agreement.

Rook did a double-take when she noticed Lucanis appear at her side, staring daggers into the Templar. Her surprise quickly morphed back into the stern expression she wore when giving orders to the team.

Tarquin simply rolled his eyes at his intrusion, no longer interested in anything Rook had to say.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, looking for her advice on how to proceed.

“Go find the others.” She said, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “I’ll meet you back at the Lighthouse.”

[lexisism]

appreciation post 2024-2025 ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

i made a mistake in my calculations so posting this now! happy 2024, and im glad I can welcome 2025 with you guys in my life and mind 🤍 (sorry if you didn’t wish to be tagged)

@ashipiko

ASHI!!! i admire you so much your yume is so good and your art is so awesome.. UGHHH I LOVE UR WORK SO MUCH I JUSR WANT TO LET YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU!! you’re so funny too, and just an absolute joy to see on my dash.. thank you for sharing your art with us 🤍

@ceruleancattail

HAPPY NEW YEAR CERU!!! pretty sure this is our second new year knowing eachother hello?! you are and were such an inspiration to me when i first came on tumblr and i look up to you sm! i adore you, your work, and your kindness! you’re very impressive and im happy I found you!

@camvrin

oh oli dear there is rare enough anything i can say here that I haven’t said before! you brought such light into my life, I smile so much more often since you came and I’m so grateful I’ve met you. you are so stunning, you’re kindness is so unique to you and your heart is so blessed (i want to shield it from the world), i adore you dearly! and im so happy we are in touch. you’re so funny and I just want to make you sooo happy. im so grateful for all the support you’ve shown me, and how kind you are to me, thank you for always being there 🤍!

@floraldresvi

VI!!! oh my darling dresvi you make me feel so loved, both by you and my f/o’s! I admire you so much and I want to grow into an adult like you are! you’re so kind, caring, and so inclusive to everyone around and I love you soooo much! you were one of my first mutuals on here and you made me want to stay! thank you so much for a fun two years now. love you and baivi dearly :)

@kaiserkisser

oh skylia the darling ever I appreciate you so much!!! another of my oldest friends and someone I value closely, although we don’t interact you’re such a darling and I ADORE seeing you post. never change bb, you’re awesome how you are, and I love your heart and soul! take care in 2025 bb happy i met you

@kalims

ROSA!!! you’re so COOL holy i admire you so much!! you’re so caring and AWESOME DJSJEJEJ i look up to you so much and you were (are!) one of my biggest writing inspirations! i love your writing, formatting, and your themes dearly! I can’t believe I can just pop in and say hi and you’d respond thats crazy to me. im so grateful i found you!

@milk-violet

MIREI!! i just met you this year but you made this year so memorable!! i got so comfortable with you so quickly its kinda crazy.. im not complaining though im so eternally grateful for it! you’re like a sister to me and I adore you so dearly! love love love you! you’re so funny, and always make me laugh just as much as you make me smile with your sweet words! you’re so supportive of me and my ocs and my selfships and just everything and im so so grateful to have this energy in my life! I hope we get to speak more and more as 2025 comes up and i can make you just as happy as you’ve made me!!

@mondaymelon

MELON!! you’re so cool, your ocs and art are things im awestruck at!! you’re so strong and so cool and epic and and and!!! i admire you and your passions very much! we don’t talk so much but whenever you post i do adore each and every one LMAO! you’re awesome.

@mlkbwunnies

oh ying :( you’re an older mutual of mine, and one im so grateful i met last year 🤍 you’re just the sweetest and so so redeeming. every conversation we have js so comforting, and I try to follow in your footsteps and be as kind and soft as you are! you’re so cool and i admire you in every way out there. thank you for making my 2024 so much better!

@melitheduck

MELIIII MY OLDEST FRIEND I KNOW ON HERE WE’VE KNOWN EACHOTHER FOR LIKE 2 YEARS NOW!! before i was on tumblr,,, and you’re just the sweetest soul out there. everything about you is cute, and nice and oh i adore you so much!!! you’re just so comforting to speak too and so silly i love you.

@soleillunne

ALY!! you’re so awesome and just??? the way you write so much for everyone and all the gifts you give you’re just a beloved gift yourself . you’re so strong and so adored and i’m so grateful I know you. we don’t talk the most but do know I see you on my dash, and i send u hugs everytime i do 🤍

@tiredsleep

you’re one of my newer friends but you’ve become such a consistent part of my schedule its crazy. you put up with my shenanigans and you’re so cool and mature (sometimes/lh) and I’m so grateful for how you listen to me talk about my ocs all the time, truly it means so much to me how willing you are too listen! you’re dear to me and I hope I can provide the same happiness you provide me!!!