#ended up writing it for enjoyment 😭

[pearsonspearson]

NEW FIC!! NEW FIC!!!

@rvspecter here u go bby 🫶🏽

[thedemises]

——— UNSAID CURIOSITY ★ tighnari.

note; this is a really typical and possibly common idea but I just wanna bury my face into tighnari's ears and tail :3 (I had writer's block in the middle of wriktg this slenenodelwñx also ayyyy first written work of 2025 for me!!!!)

it’s a natural human nature to feel curious every now and then.

whether it’s the quiet wonder of what lies behind a locked door or the magnetic pull of something just out of reach, curiosity has a way of threading itself through our thoughts. sometimes, it’s innocent, fleeting — like the urge to peek inside a box labeled fragile. other times, it takes root, growing persistent and restless, coaxing you closer until the question demands an answer.

you hadn’t realized how firmly it had taken hold of you until now, trailing your gaze like an unseen tether.

the silken texture of his dark fur matching his equally black hair, the way the light filtered through the forest and caught on the delicate tufts of his ears — it was as if nature itself had woven them with meticulous care. the slight twitch here and there only added to the intrigue, stirring questions you hadn’t even thought to ask; you’d been caught in this peculiar fascination for longer than you were willing to admit, your thoughts drifting between idle wonder and cautious self-reproach.

where & when did he get that piercing? are they softer than they appear to be? would he mind if—

“do you perhaps want to pet my ears?”

his sudden remark sliced through the quiet like a well-aimed arrow, the bluntness of it knocking the wind from your composure. your breath hitched — caught off-guard by tighnari's bluntness not surprising really — the air catching in your throat and forcing a small cough to escape before you could stifle it.

for a moment, the world around you stilled, save for the faint rustle of leaves overhead — your mind scrambled, chasing down the remnants of coherence as they scattered like startled birds, fumbling through a dozen half-formed excuses to counter tighnari's question that scattered like leaves in a storm — the weight of his question lingered in the air, pressing against you with an almost disarming directness.

“err... why, of course not ,” you managed, your voice uneven despite your best efforts. there was a thin, wavering edge to it — like the fine thread of self-control you clung to might snap if you so much as exhaled wrong. a nervous laugh bubbled up, unprompted, but you swallowed it before it could betray you. still, the weight of his gaze lingered, steady and unyielding, like he was reading more than your words.

“what makes you say that, tighnari?”

you added, your voice pitched higher than usual, betraying the thin veneer of innocence you tried to project. your eyes darted toward him, searching for some trace of humor or teasing, something to defuse the tension simmering between you.

but his expression gave nothing away. he tilted his head slightly, his ears twitching ever so faintly as if punctuating his words.

“well , you've been staring at me,” tighnari tilts his head a little as if to gesture to his ears without using his hands. “specifically my ears , for a while now.” his tone was matter-of-fact, delivered with the kind of casual confidence that only made your embarrassment deepen. one gloved hand rested on his hip while the other was preoccupied with gesturing lightly, like he almost always does.

“plus,” he added, his sharp gaze locking onto yours, “it’s written all over your face.”

caught, you felt your resolve crumble, your lips curling into a sheepish smile despite yourself. the faintest warmth crept up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you ducked your head slightly, hoping the canopy of leaves might conceal your expression.

tighnari’s sharp eyes missed nothing, though, and his lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. “don’t worry,” he chuckles, his voice dipping into something almost playful, though still tinged with his usual precision. “for now, I will allow you to do it.”

the offer hung in the air, unexpected and oddly magnanimous, leaving you teetering between mortification and hesitant intrigue. the stillness of the forest around you seemed to amplify every unspoken thought, every erratic beat of your heart.

it wasn’t the kind of curiosity you could walk away from, not when the opportunity had been placed so deliberately before you akin to being placed on a silver platter.

you flicked your eyes toward him, hoping to catch even the smallest crack in his composed exterior — a twitch of his lips, a telltale flicker in his gaze, something to suggest he was merely joking with you; however his face remained steady, serene, like the surface of a still pond. his confidence was infuriating, though it was betrayed in the subtlest of ways; the slow, deliberate swish of his two-toned tail behind him, like a silent laugh he wasn’t quite willing to share.

then, as if to remove any lingering doubt, tighnari tilted his head slightly in your direction; it wasn’t a grand gesture — just a small, intentional movement — but the implications behind it left your thoughts scrambling. the tilt of his head offered an unspoken invitation, one that left no room for misunderstanding. the fine lines of his posture, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the deliberate ease in his movement all simply spoke of quiet amusement, though his face refused to give it away.

it was disarming, how natural he made it seem, like this was the most mundane thing in the world — and yet, it was anything but.

slowly, your hand hovered hesitantly in the air just half way from reaching tighnari's head — unsure whether to take him up on his offer or should you not. his ears twitched almost imperceptibly, as if inviting you, and the soft, velvety texture of the fur looked even more tempting up close. you are stare instead, hesitating.

“well? ” the tighnarian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyebrow arched in quiet challenge; his gaze held steady, sharp and expectant, as though daring you to back out now. “are you going to keep hesitating, or are you actually going to pet them?”

his words pushed past the knot of anxiousness tangled in your chest, urging your hand forward before your thoughts could catch up. your fingers hovered for a moment, then finally brushed against the soft fur of his ears. they were even softer than you imagined — plush and velvety, like the downy feathers of a bird’s wing. a small, unbidden smile curved your lips as the texture registered beneath your fingertips, curiosity melting into quiet wonder; almost childishly.

tighnari didn’t pull away. instead, his shoulders seemed to loosen, the sharpness in his expression softening just enough to betray his guarded composure. his ears twitched slightly at your touch, not in irritation but something closer to acknowledgment, and though his face remained neutral, the stillness of his tail hinted at his contentment.

"see? not so bad, is it?" his voice came quieter now, a low murmur that blended with the forest’s hum, a ghost of a smile creeping up his features.

your soft laughter broke through the air, shaky but genuine, and you quickly ducked your head, embarrassed by the sound of it. “not bad at all,” you admitted, the tension that had lingered between you unraveling with each passing moment.

your fingers brush against the black tuffs of his protruding ears, fondness in your eyes, rubbing the outline edge of tighnari's ears. “they're softer than I thought.”

the forest seemed to settle around you, its rhythm weaving seamlessly into the space you shared, as though it, too, understood the strange, fleeting intimacy of the moment.

...

“hey, does this mean I have the privilege to always touch them?”

“ahah, don't think about taking advantage of this, my friend.”

© thedemises 2025. all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, copy, feed to ai, or claim as your own. please.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

HAPPY FUCKING SUNDAY MY LITTLE IRIS!!! I HOPE THE SUN IS SHINING AND THE BRAIN IS BRAINING MWAHHH i am here to present you another silly little tiktok hehehe u mentioned nikolai as one of your blorbos so this was JUST RIGHT it made me laugh... maybe a bit too much........... i hope u enjoy LOVE U

https://www.tiktok.com/@pencil.slipped/video/7331589407524408618

- @softgirlgonehaywire

HELLOOOOOOO MY LOVELY SUNFLOWER happy. monday ….. almost tuesday …… hey hey did u know that sunflowers turn to face each other when there isn’t any sunlight around??? idk if that’s true it’s just smth i heard ISN’T IT SO SWEET THOUGH :(((( they’re so cute i’m weeping……

PHDJDJFUFJ THE TIKTOK???? MICKEY????? 😭😭😭😭 thank u it broke me a little i think OK BUT THEY WOULD GET ALONG WOULDN’T THEY…. gojo has a thing for murderous meowmeows <333 nikolai is one of those blorbos that i havent actually Met yet but i know a bit abt him and i love him oh so much….. i also have the biggest weakness for jester-inspired characters so i simply can’t resist him :’3 i am nomnoming the nikolai content thank u my dearest mickey for ur tribute

ALSOOOO i’m using this ask as an opportunity to respond to ur other letter hehe :33 i have a lot to say sadly i’m also scatterbrained & sleepy but i’m gonna try to remember everything !!! rubbing my three remaining braincells together just for u <33

ok first off some ari lore … my fave season is autumn w summer close behind BUT since spring is ur favorite we can have a spring wedding <33 in knight!reader’s honour too!!!! they’ll be there somewhere… lurking…… sunbathing……. the meowmeow of all time

AND AND when it comes to coffee and tea i’m not picky!! i love them both!!! no matter what kind!!! i like any and all coffee combos, just depends on my mood it’s the caffeine addiction i think but my overall preference is probably black w just a lil bit of cream <333 it has to be super duper hot bc lukewarm coffee makes me deeply uncomfortable (super duper cold is fine though!!) and i love love tea i couldn’t live w/o it…… my only pref is that i like to pour some cream in my black tea, and some honey in herbal tea :33 WHAT ABT U MICKEY I HAVE TO KNOW the signals in my brain tell me u like cold coffee more than warm coffee….. but i don’t even know if u drink coffee at all…… ALSO I NEED TO KNOW UR FAV KIND OF TEA i’ll make it for u in my brain every morning 🙏🙏

moving on to until dawn ARI/MICKEY GOING STRONG AS ALWAYS ashley is my least favorite character 😳😳 i just feel like everyone else is sooo girlypop or silly or at least a lil queer but she’s just kinda There……… for the chris romance………. and ofc i can’t forgive the emily slander!!!! we need to protect our wife mickey :((( nobody gets her like we do i fear

AND AAAA A REMAKE !!! WAITTTT THAT’S SO EXCITING MORE INTERACTIONS TOO…… ok but screaming while playing it was soooo real of u if i ever played it on my own i fear i wouldn’t survive AND THE SOUNDTRACKS!!!! god mickey i just remembered i still haven’t listened to the ones u recommended before :’33 i have them all written down so trust that i’ll get to them hehe BUT THESE ONES….. gosh i’m a little enamored w them….,, the theme from the lighthouse is soooo atmospheric i can practically taste the Vibe of it all…… it’s the kind of theme that would give me immense anxiety if i watched the movie LMAO but it’s somehow so pretty too yk??? the murky sea vibe…. AND THE THEME FROM THE WITCH goshhhh it’s genuinely so bewitching pun intended IT’S SO ENCHANTING???? just so vivid…. i alr know his work for until dawn is gonna make everything sooo much more intense and authentic i’m so excited mickey …… when u play it u gotta post abt it so i can feel included PHDKDBDJDB

ANYWAY BSD YAY YAY :3333 i feel like u mentioned having finished it all in another letter�� i think i might’ve forgotten to respond to it 😔😔 forgive me and my scatterbrained tendencies KNOWING U ENJOYED IT MAKES ME SOOO EXCITED i’m a little afraid that i’ll fall out of my perpetual jjk phase if i watch anything else but literally the MOMENT i start watching bsd again i’m running over to ur blanket fort!!! i’m so excited to compare favs and moments we like hehe…. nikolai is just so sillyyy and i was really moved by that One panel where he takes off his mask and tells atsushi that he’s perfectly sane i must’ve been like 15 when i first saw it??? blew my mind i think it kinda set the tone for the villains i enjoy now … nikolai crawled so kenny could sprint… etc etc……. silly little queer villains who don’t remember what regret feels like anymore <3333

ALSO MICKEY u like tecchou right….. obv i don’t know much abt either one yet but i alr love jouno a lot!! once again we’re the duo of all time >:33 AND MANNNNN….. if u ever start writing for bsd just know i’ll be the first in line to eat it up !! i just know ur dazai would be the most lovesick catcoded little trainwreck ever 🥺🥺 an image of prince!dazai just flooded my brain oh no

one last thing!!!! before i forget!!!!! a little birdie told me that u started reading no longer human….. 👀👀👀 and what u said abt the mc being autistic made me think of another existentialist book where the mc is commonly interpreted as being a sociopath or something similar but he’s Literally Just Autistic. to me. there’s lots of room for interpretation but the coding is very much there … might not be very good rep because he does kill a guy lmao but i love him he means the world to me :((( the book is ”the stranger” by albert camus btw it’s short and u can read it online here i ADORE camus’ style of writing sm…. the vibe of it all….. the main themes are isolation + what it means to be human and. idk it just really really moved me… esp the very last line…. :c it’s very dear to me!! would highly recommend hehe

ok that’s all i think…, i always worry that i forgot to mention something or comment on something hhhh my brain really is just . a bit scattered all the time T_T BUT ILY MICKEY thank u for always checking in my sunniest little flower i hope u have dreams so sweet u wake up smiling <33333 pressing many tiny kisses on ur nose and cheeks and forehead mwah mwah mwah

[fawniswriting]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: The story of a girl and her fallen flowers, as well as a boy who can't seem to forget either of them.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): 1940s!Bucky. 1940s!reader. winter-soldier!Bucky. TFATWS!Bucky. non-linear timeline (time-jumps). childhood friends to lovers. kissing. profanities. canon typical violence. bucky in the electric chair. brief mention of suicidal thoughts. fluff. kinda cheesy if you squint. mild angst. implied death (?). platonic sambucky. bittersweet ending I guess?? (you'll see what I mean)

Author's Note: okayyy so this didn't quite turn out the way I thought it would, but I loveeedd the concept as soon as I got it in my head and still wanted to share this story with you guys 🥺 idk why I seem to struggle translating my ideas properly lately 🫠 anywho, this is officially the shortest piece I've ever written, and I'm actually kind of challenging myself to start writing shorter pieces because I always end up blabbering non-stop in my fics (a side effect to being a yapper, I guess 😭). but despite all, I hope you'll still like this one and find it enjoyable! ❤️ and if you do, please don't forget: like, comment, and reblog 💞

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“This is for you.”

Twelve-year-old Bucky Barnes looked up from the wriggling worm on the ground and squinted his eyes against the blinding sun. The sky of Brooklyn was the color of his eyes today, bright and vast as if someone had splashed a painter's brush across the horizon. Under the stretch of blue, his gaze landed on you—the new girl at school, the one his classmates had been whispering about since Mr. Morris decided to take everyone out to the park for today's PE lesson. 

Johnny Hurst told Bucky that you were the prettiest dame he had ever seen.

And boy, if the punk weren't telling the truth.

Bucky's eyes flitted over you from head to toe—taking in the slight tilt of your head, the subtle curve of your lips, and the worn blouse that clung to you at least half a size too big—before they finally landed on the hand outstretched towards him.

“What's this?” he asked.

“It's a flower.”

“I can see that.”

Abandoning the worm, Bucky rose to his feet and brushed the dust off his slacks. You observed his movements with fervor, your hand still curling around the yellow daffodil as if its petals held the cosmic tethers that kept the entire universe from falling apart.

You extended your palm further, positioning the flower directly under his nose until he could smell the fragrance caressing his cheeks.

“It's for you,” you repeated.

Bucky's eyes flicked twice between your face and the daffodil. “Is this a trick?”

“No.”

“Someone put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Where'd you get the flower?”

“From there.”

Bucky's eyes followed the direction of your finger, spotting the daffodil bushes located just a few paces ahead. Not in full bloom yet, but nearly. A golden oasis in the midst of a playground of gray and trampled grass.

You turned towards him again, your expression remaining unchanged as you told him, “I picked it up from the ground.”

Bucky stared at the daffodil in silence. “You're giving me a wilted flower?”

“It's not wilted.”

There was a shadow appearing in the center of your forehead. Your fingertips twitched where they hovered attentively around the yellow petals, as though the accusation had offended you, as though Bucky had spoken blasphemy against the flower by calling it wilted.

“It's been on the ground,” Bucky pointed out.

“So? It simply fell off. Doesn't mean it's wilted.”

“Ain't that the same thing?”

“No.” You pouted, your forehead creasing deeper as your hand cradled the daffodil closer to your chest. “A wilted flower is dead. It doesn't have any love remaining inside it. This flower is not like that.”

And then, like some kind of switch had been flipped, you angled your head towards him—entwining his eyes with your steadfast gaze, rendering his legs motionless with the sight of a brilliant grin stretching across your beautiful face.

“This flower still has a lot of love to give to the world,” you proclaimed.

Bucky's heart stuttered.

It must have been a premonition from the heavens when Bucky's arm began lifting of its own accord, receiving the daffodil from your hand and relishing in the elated hum that the gesture elicited. The petals were delicate against the skin of his palm, and Bucky suddenly feared the possibility of crushing them due to his overt carelessness.

“She's yours now.” You beamed, swaying slightly on your feet as your hands clapped in infectious joy. “She'll give you all of her love if you promise to take care of her.”

His lips quirked. “It's a she?”

“Of course,” you replied, the sun glinting radiantly in your pupils. “All the beautiful things in life are a she.”

Bucky couldn't find it in himself to argue.

He watched you leave with heart on his sleeve, bewitched by the ribbon of your laughter dancing in the wind. His fingers curled protectively around the yellow daffodil, his heart singing in tandem with the rhythm of your skipping feet echoing through the earth.

“Hey!” Bucky called out. You stopped halfway in your tracks, smiling at him from the distance like his wildest daydreams made into flesh. “Why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why'd you decide to give the flower to me?”

The grin on your face widened, and Bucky—bless his heart—thought for a moment that his entire limbs might collapse.

A breeze rustled the surrounding trees, cavorting around until it floated across your cheeks. You stumbled back a step upon its intrusion, your eyes peering shyly under the harsh judgment of the sun. And yet, your smile prevailed—still soft as a wisp, still managing to make Bucky's chest alight with something more precarious than a raging flame.

“Cause you're handsome,” you answered at last, the sound of your giggles resonating throughout the air and straight into Bucky's soul. “Take good care of her, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Blue eyes trailed along as you disappeared around the hedge, remnants of your melodic voice still dithering in the sky, a gentle lull against the wild thumping of his heart. As the world settled into its insipid normal, Bucky Barnes knew that there were two things of which he was absolutely certain.

One: the flower in his hand had now become the most prized possession in his otherwise monotone life.

And two: he had actually never told you his name.

Somehow, Bucky found that he didn't quite mind both.

“Say, handsome. Any chance you could tell a girl where to find a good time around here?”

Bucky hadn't even turned when the smile broke across his lips. 

His soul meandered towards your voice, his heart leaping out of its cage as he took in your entire figure for the first time that night—flowy dress and red lipstick, platform heels and a pair of lips that looked like they held whispers of a secret he would spend a lifetime trying to unravel. Your own smile blinded him as you approached closer, the cadence of your steps a harmonious symmetry with the surrounding ruckus of the carnival. 

“I'd show you a good time, doll.” He smirked once you stood in front of him, your chin tilting up in a way that made Bucky want to drop to his knees and worship the ground you had walked on. “All you gotta do is ask.”

“Really? Just ask?” You hummed, fluttering your lashes and sending a whole swing band loose in Bucky’s gut. “Shame. Here I thought I'd bargain a smooch for your company. Guess I'll just have to give it to someone else, then.”

You didn't have a chance to turn before Bucky yanked you back towards him, firm fingers curling around your wrist like a ship finally mooring to land. He swallowed your surprised yelp with a kiss, devouring your gasps as if the two of you weren't standing under caramel-slicked air and a parade of balloons and shrieks.

“Quit jokin’ about kissing someone else, sweetheart,” he rasped against your lips, fingers resolute where they squeezed around your hip. “Lest you're lookin’ to see me die of a heart attack.”

Your smile bloomed. “Then why don't you kiss me some more, Buck?”

He was more than happy to oblige.

His lips found yours again, slower this time, savoring every second as if he were living on borrowed time. The world around you faded away into an abstract background, centering you in the moment, where everything you yearned and cared for was the hint of sugar you could taste on your boyfriend's lips.

When the two of you parted for the second time, Bucky studied your face as though memorizing a miracle right before his very eyes. It made something stir in the depth of your chest.

“Got you something,” Bucky admitted, excitement and joy spilling out of his skin.

You waited patiently as he reached into his pocket, pulling out an eyeglass case that made your eyebrows pinch in wonder—since when did he wear glasses? But before you could ask, Bucky was already opening the lid, and the view of its content managed to coax a gasp of awe from somewhere within your ribs.

“Bucky, this is amazing.”

You picked up the tiny arrangement between your pointer and middle fingers, admiring the way the flowers were bound together into a miniscule bouquet. They were tethered to one another by a string of stem and twine, a thread of nature and mankind, existing side by side in an eternal waltz that fate had bestowed upon them.

Your chest tapered, bringing the tiny bouquet closer to your heart as you captured the giddy blue of Bucky’s eyes. “You made this yourself?”

“I did.” Bucky nodded, his chest inflating in a pale delight. “Well, Becca helped. Who could've guessed that tying a yarn around flower stems required nimble fingers, huh?”

You laughed along, concealing the way your insides were melting into a puddle as if this weren't the nicest gesture anyone had ever done for you.

“Ma gave me an earful when she saw me in the garden, dirt on my hands and knees, lookin’ for fallen blossoms. Said I'd better get some proper flowers for my girl if I didn't want her runnin’ off with another fella.” Bucky chuckled. “But I told her this was more special. After all, these buds ain't wilted yet, which means—”

“They still got love to give,” you whispered, void of air and yet brimming with boisterous affection. You kissed his chin and rewarded him a grin. “You know who else got love to give, Buck?” 

Bucky laughed, that rare, beautiful sound that always seemed too big for the world to hold. He cupped your cheek like he was holding a precious porcelain, leaning closer until your foreheads rested against one another.

"Yeah, sweetheart." He breathed, nudging his nose to yours. "I sure as hell do.”

“Mission report,” a voice commanded.

In the center of the room, the Soldat sat on a throne made of metal and terror. A cushion designed not for rest, but for bearing witness to the drips of blood pooling beneath restraint-bound limbs. Other soldiers stood all around the room, their cowardice louder than their breathing, their backs refusing to peel from the walls as if it could absolve them of their complicity.

The quiet stretched.

Out of the shadows, the tall, fiendish man emerged, carrying the kind of cruelty that even hell would cower from. He examined the Soldat and raised his eyebrows, noting down the asset's lack of response—an observation for later, an error to repair as if the Soldat had been a mere machine instead of a living soul.

The man stepped closer, repeating himself with a bellowing voice that would beckon the dead from their graves, “Mission report, Soldat.”

Still no answer.

The tension sweltered.

“What's wrong with him?” another man chimed in.

The first one shook his head, his mind already gearing, going through the motions on how he could pick apart and assemble the Soldat into something new, something better. But before he could jot down the evil plan on his notepad, his gaze slid downward, spotting the defensive curl of the Soldat's flesh fist hidden partly by his right thigh.

“There is something in his hand.”

The second man sprung into action, approaching the chair and demanding the frozen man on it to unclench his fingers, now. But the Soldat didn't move, not even a single indication to acknowledge the receival of the command. Even when the smack thundered across his cheek, the Soldat continued to stand his ground, a show of defiance through the very last thing he could still afford.

“Soldat.” The first man attempted again, a cold edge coursing through his words. “Give us what's in your hand before we put you back in the cryo.”

The Soldat didn't say anything, but his fingers flexed—just a tiny bit—though it was enough to help the second man pry the mysterious object out of the Soldat's hand.

“What is it?” the first man asked, a hint of impatience leaking through his practiced image.

“It's, uh… It's…” the second man stammered. 

He turned his palm around, confusion palpable in his eyes as he showed his colleague the mysterious object that the Soldat had guarded with more ferocity than any weapon they’d ever placed in his hands.

A slightly crumpled yellow daffodil.

“It's a flower?” the first man nearly roared. “It was just a fucking wilted flower?”

“It's not wilted.”

The room fell into an instantaneous hush. Every pair of eyes inside ambled towards the center of the room, towards the assassin who had just decided to break his silence over the trivial matter of flowers.

The first man turned towards the Soldat with a menacing stare, his eyes a pair of blades as he stepped closer towards the seat of torture, studying the Soldat who was still sitting stiffly as if awaiting the next round of nightmares. But beneath the blue eyes, usually steely and cold, something else had clawed its way through—something fiery and reckless, something akin to humanity.

The first man sneered, turning to the entire room to bark his orders, “Wipe him. And put him in the ice until further notice.”

People moved in a flurry of limbs as soon as the instruction had settled. Amidst the havoc, everybody failed to notice the silent tick of the Soldat's jaw, the scintillating shift of his pupils as unsolicited hands forced him back against the chair, strapping his entire body with restraints that felt more like burning coals against an expanse of skin.

The Soldat kept his eyes trained on the drab surface of the ceiling, bracing himself for the pain to come, for the same searing agony that had muddled his brain far too many times to count. He wouldn't remember much afterwards—wouldn't remember how desperately he kept wishing for death in those horrifying moments—but he would certainly remember the fear. Thrumming under his skin like lightning against a drowning man's ribs.

At the first descent of the machine upon each side of his head, the Soldat suddenly heard it—the voice. 

The one who wasn't his own but sounded like a missing piece of his soul.

The one who always appeared in times when he needed an anchor and something to hold.

The one who had told him to pick up the daffodil while he was on the field.

“Take it,” the voice had adjured. “Take the flower. It's not wilted yet, it has simply just fallen.”

So he did.

And right now, the voice was returning once more, only this time, it didn't come alone.

It came with flashes—images.

An image of laughter and smiles, of promises and dreams. An image of two bodies tangled beneath the sheets, spent breaths and a humming pleasure rushing through bloodstreams.

It came with an image of you.

“It's gonna be alright,” you told him, so gentle and kind that he almost believed it. “Everything's gonna be alright, honey. I'm right here with you.”

The machine awakened with an ominous snarl, triggering a low whine inside his skull, rising gradually until it split the edges of his mind apart. He tried to hold onto something, anything, but there was nothing left inside him except for scraps of bones and a heart mangled beyond any devastation the world could ever imagine.

He was no one. 

No name. No face. No soul. 

Just a body, wired and broken, as mechanical as the chair he sat upon.

As good as wilted.

“You're not wilted.”

The Soldat blinked.

“You've merely fallen, honey,” you assured, smiling so sweetly he could almost taste it on his tongue. “Fallen things aren't wilted. And fallen things—oh, sweetheart—they still have so much more love to give.”

“You dropped one, Sarah.”

Bucky bent down to pick up the flower on the floor, the one that had fatedly fallen from the bouquet of fragrance and colors that Sam's sister was currently moving to a clear vase. The petals fluttered like silk on the skin of Bucky's palm, and his knees nearly gave out from underneath him when he finally took a proper look at the blossom in his grasp.

A yellow daffodil.

“Just throw it away, Buck,” Sarah said from her place in the kitchen. She crumpled the parchment wrapper of the bouquet before throwing it into the bin, the arrangement of flowers now sitting proudly on the kitchen counter. “It's been on the ground, anyway.”

“Just ‘cause it's fallen, doesn't mean it's wilted yet.” Bucky sauntered towards the kitchen, stopping to position the bud amidst the array of petals and stems. “They still got a whole lot of love left to give, you know?”

Sarah's eyebrows rose.

Before she could comment on Bucky's surprising sentiment, Sam came striding into the house, his dark eyes immediately zeroing on the two people standing by the kitchen counter.

“What's this?” Sam asked, suspicion dripping from his voice. “Yo, man, I told you to stop flirting with my sis.”

“Nobody's flirting, Sam. We were just talking,” Bucky clarified. Then, just to ruffle Sam’s feathers, the super soldier flicked his gaze towards Sarah, tilting his lips in the way he used to do when he wanted to coax something out of you. “Right, Sarah?”

The woman giggled, and Bucky could almost beam in satisfaction at the imaginary smoke coming out of Sam's ears.

“He was just helping me, Sam,” Sarah told him. “One of the flowers fell, so he returned it to me.”

“Nuh uh. I don't believe that's all there is. That must be him tryna make a move. That was you making a move, isn't it?” Sam demanded, his gaze jerking aggressively between his sister and a smug Bucky. “What'd he tell you? Whatever it was, don't listen to it. Don't believe him. It's just a bunch of bullshit.”

“God, Sam, he didn't say anything.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “He just told me something about flowers. About how they aren't wilted if they fell, and… what was it again, Buck?”

The man tensed.

Bucky regained his composure in the blink of an eye, keeping the other two oblivious to the surge of turmoil that the simple question had sent. Keeping them in the dark about the way Bucky's heart had stumbled at the mere memory of your smile flaring across his mind and straight into his soul.

“It was nothing,” Bucky said. “Just a silly saying.”

“Oh, right!” Sarah snapped her fingers. “Fallen flowers still have lots of love to give.” She smiled proudly, eyes flickering towards Bucky with conspicuous excitement. “Was I right?”

Bucky's jaw clenched.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam questioned, his forehead knitting, vexation melting into incredulity. “That your game, Buck? Sounds lousy as hell.”

Bucky sighed. “Sam…”

“Did that kinda thing really work in the forties? ‘Cause damn, I could've been a real ladies man back then. Would've been so easy if all it took was one lame shit about flowers, and—hey, where you goin’?”

“Getting the hell away from you!”

Bucky heard Sam's laughter echoing from behind him, mocking and unaware of the wound in the former's chest that was beginning to crack and bleed all over the floor. The sound of your voice lingered in Bucky's mind, a ghost only he could hear, a cursed rapture that broke him apart at the seams before stitching him together all at once.

Before Bucky could exit the house, Sam's voice erupted again, “Hey! At least tell us how you got the idea for such a cheesy saying!”

“I didn't.” Bucky's grip contracted around the front door's handle, a shaky smile stretching his lips before he caught Sam's gaze from the distance. “Someone taught it to me. A long time ago.”

[litsenn]

Hi, I hope it's alright to ask your thoughts on something about Astarion. I just think your posts always show a very deep understanding of Astarion as a character, especially in regards to his complicated views on sex and intimacy, and I really appreciate and respect your analyses. I'm only on my second playthrough, so I like to hear from people who have played a lot more than I have.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Astarion’s state of mind in the first sex scene in act one (I'm currently writing about it). The more I think about it, his experience seems to be a very complex mixture of both positive and negative that exist simultaneously. These are just some of my current personal thoughts (all of this in the context of the PC being someone who treats him well and is generally a good person):

This is the first time he's getting to have sex on his own terms in 200 years, and that's probably liberating, in a slightly terrified and overwhelmed way. He is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling. 

He knows the PC better than he ever knew any of his past targets, but he doesn’t yet believe that they truly care about him, either.

The sex ends up meaning more to him than he thought it would, but I also imagine it isn't exactly enjoyable for him, given his dissociation, feelings of disgust, and the fact that this was all just supposed to be an act. 

He is also probably struggling to reconcile the fact that he’s growing to genuinely like the PC with his belief that they are fetishizing him (this also connects with your incredible post about Astarion’s feelings about feeding on the PC at this point, and how biting during sex can be enjoyable for him, though still uncomfortable in that he views it as transactional) 

He feels like his performance here is important to his survival, because in his mind he is using sex as currency to get the PC on his side. The transactional nature of it is probably comfortable in its familiarity, yet no less disgusting for him.

 So what I’m ultimately trying to ask is: 

In your opinion, how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative? 

Which of the feelings mentioned above do you think are at the forefront of his mind going into the encounter? Which ones “win out” over others? Are there more factors I forgot / didn’t list?

(I hope I made this sound somewhat coherent. I’ve had a hard time articulating my thoughts about this scene.)

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words 😭 I’m always very touched when people say they enjoy reading my stuff. I don’t know if my understanding of the character is so relevant, all I can say is that I relate to him on many levels, and therefore I analyse him from my personal perspective. Which also means that my posts are just one interpretation among many others.

Now, concerning this scene, there’s a lot to unpack. And I first have to say that there is no clear answer to the question "Did he enjoy it or not?". IMO, it will always be yes and no. And I'm only offering a personal analysis of this ambivalent situation.

Proceed at your own discretion because I’m going to talk about trauma, SA, sex-work and complicated relations to sex in general. Be careful.

Please, keep in mind that al of this is pure speculation (and forgive the typos😅)(and this post is long and chaotic, sorry).

I globally agree with all your points, and I love that you mentioned the complexity of his feelings during this scene. We can all agree that he has contradictive feelings about sex in Act 1. It's not just disgust, not just hedonism, not just attraction, not just manipulation: it's all of this and more.

And that’s one of the things I love about the writing of this character.

Sex is always complex (for everyone) but for survivors it’s even more complicated. And I love that Astarion’s narrative stands against the “perfect victim” tropes and the idea that SA survivors are incapable of enjoying sex. Despite the decades of SA, Astarion still enjoys it and wants it, but his desire is tainted with self-loathing, with fear. He deals with those through defence mechanisms and what I’d call “automatisms” from his former experiences and obligations.  

That's why before I answer your questions, I want to add one point which can also work as a foreword to the rest of the post: Astarion is attracted to the PC.

He says it during the confession scene, and there's no reason for him to lie at this point. Likewise, if the PC tells him they can be together without having sex, he's indeed relieved, pleasantly surprised, but he jests about it being a challenge.

I think there's some truth in those words: it will be somehow challenging. First because sex is the only kind of intimacy he's known for 200 years; it's will be difficult to "quit the habit", to discover and get used to new ways to get close to someone. Secondly, because he does find the PC attractive and probably wants to be able to have sex with them without feeling bad about it.

After all, it seems like he enjoyed sex very much before Cazador turned him, since at the beginning, he thought he could still enjoy having sex with his targets.

Meaning sex wasn’t something that disgusted him before all this. He might be able to remember (deep down) that sex can be 100% enjoyable.

Yet, it doesn’t necessarily means he’s now incapable of enjoying it; it only means that it’s going to be more complicated. He needs to rediscover how to fully enjoy it again – on his own terms – now that he’s free to give his consent.

Take the brothel scene for instance; if the PC has sex with Astarion and the Drow twins after dealing with Cazador, he's at first very excited about it. And I don't see any lie here, he's genuinely enthusiastic.

Unfortunately, during the orgy, he realises that it’s not for him ( not yet at least). Being with many people, and/or with someone that is not the PC is still an experience that triggers his trauma. But he didn't know that, he wasn't expecting his trauma to manifest. He wanted to do it, he wanted to enjoy it.

Not only he falls back into his old mechanism: sex as a performance, Astarion as an entertainer who must give the best performance to his partners, paying no attention to his own desire and needs. Followed by dissociation, which is something that happen automatically. You don't decide to dissociate. It's your brain switching off because the reality is too uncomfortable. It's survival.

Anyways, this bad experience is typical of what can happen to someone who's healing. It's normal. You want to explore your sexuality, and sometimes it works perfectly well, and sometimes not. That’s what healing is about. It's not linear, and sometimes it's messy.

It is true that some SA survivors are perpetually sex revulsed. And some of them become sex-addicts. And for most of them, it’s somewhere in-between. Still capable of enjoying sex VERY MUCH, but also finding themselves disgusted by sex sometimes for reasons they can’t really explain. There’s no rule as to how survivors experience sexual attraction. 

All of this to say that it is clear to me that Astarion experience sexual attraction, that he is attracted to the PC and that even in Act 1, an important part of him wants to have sex with the PC.

Back to your points.

Control, habits and defence mechanisms

I like how you said he “is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling.”

There’s definitely something in his mind that still thinks as a slave, something which believes that he must have sex to be safe. Because it was the case for as long as he can remember.

Seducing people, sleeping with them without thinking about his own needs, that's part of his habitus. His body has been a tool for so long that he still sees it as such.

It’s ingrained in his mind, and even if he’s regaining his agency, some of the seeds planted by Cazador persist in his mind (and will until the Act 2 confession). Astarion says it himself, it's instinctive. And as you put it, it's somehow comfortable, it's charted territories.

A part of him tells him his only value relies on his sexual skills. Therefore he associates sex to a “safety net”. But he probably hasn’t acknowledged that yet in act 1; he prefers to lie to himself and to pretend he’s sleeping with the PC because he has become the puppet master. It's easier to think that way. But in fact, it was just a automatism, his survival instinct. So even if he’s really attracted to the PC, Astarion is still driven by fear and by a need to control how the PC feels about him (precisely because he's so afraid to lose control over the situation). And sex is the perfect tool for that. His body is the perfect tool.

[I can recall a few numbers of times when I had sex with people while lying to myself and pretending I 100% wanted it, pretending I was the one in control, when in fact, I had sex with those persons for reasons that had nothing to do with my own desire. It doesn't mean I didn't find them attractive, it doesn't mean I regret having sex with them, but it still means that my motivations weren’t what I thought they were, that my decision to have sex was still controlled by something else in my mind, something different from my actual desire. I acknowledged it months and sometimes years later.]

When Astarion welcomes the PC in the clearing, he’s performing. When I say he’s performing, I mean in the way he presents himself as as a person craving for sex, and he expresses his desire as such. He puts on the mask of the “mysterious sexy vampire”, keeping his voice low and his smirk sharp. He plays his part, the one he's played for years. He pretends to be the lover he thinks the PC wants him to be, the overly seductive vampire with his exaggerated declarations.

I think there are several ways to explain why he feels the need to perform:

It has always worked with his target up to now

That's the only way he knows

The exaggeration is also a shield behind which he can hide his vulnerabilities

Let me explain that last point : Saying a simple “I’m attracted to you, I want to be with you tonight”, without all the grandiloquence, is not something he would do at this point (even if that's how he feels), because that would make him look vulnerable. That would mean being honest with himself and with you, letting you see his raw desire, so to speak. It would feel too real (I purposely insist on that word and you all know why), and it's easier to exaggerate the whole thing and to pretend to be the hedonistic and over-the-top vampire. After all, he’s confident, he’s been doing that for years. He knows it works. He knows he’s hard to resist.

But when you think about it, he's obviously lying, saying he wanted this to happen since his first meeting with the PC... Come on, the first time they met he was ready to kill them.

It's a lovely lie, just like the "I love you" during his second proposition for sex (I talked about it here), but when you look into it, it's far grimmer.

Once more, there's a parallel between sex and death: "to have you"= Killing you. I already talked about that connection here, so I'll just quote myself: "It's possible to see Astarion's offer to kill you as a foreshadowing of him offering you to have sex with you. And considering what sex means to him at this point of his life - a tool to manipulate, which can lead to his partners to death - the parallel between the two in early act 1 makes a lot of sense to me."

But oh! µTav/Durge survived that first night with him! The PC is still here in the morning! That's new! It never happened to him before, waking up next to his partner. He needs to control this unusual and terrifying experience! Quick!

So I tend to think that the little remark about the PC being loud all night falls along those lines. He displays his (exaggerated) hedonistic and over-confident part of his persona, as a way to reassert that he’s the one in control. As if saying, reminding them: "I made you (the leader of the group) scream all night because I decided to, and everybody knows about it. I’m the one calling the shots.” 

But I think it's also as way to hide how he really feels about that night. So instead of opening up and saying how he feels about it, he teases the PC about their own enjoyment. Another defence mechanism.

And yet, the mask cracks a little bit when he asks if the PC wants to lose themselves in him; he suddenly looks terribly sad…

he asks for a consent he was never able to give before that

That’s probably a line he’s said thousands of times before and those who agreed did get lost… in death

It brings him back to the feeling of being a toy for others to enjoy, for people to use so they can "lose themselves"

The look on his face here is what he's trying to hide during this scene. He's wearing that mask (which will come back later if you ascend him), because he needs to protect himself. I'm not even sure if he acknowledges it at this point. It's an automatism.

But I believe that, as the night unfolds, he finds himself enjoying it.

Maybe it's just me, but I tend to feel like he’s getting more like his playful and silly self when you let him bite you. Whereas if you trust him to not bite, he keeps on performing, in control, like he was told to do by Cazador. 

If you let him bite you, you roll on the ground and he looks pleasantly surprised. And I think he starts to have fun here.

(Shadowheart, please)

And I think he can enjoy it even if he dissociates. As I said, the switch is automatic when the brain finds itself in a situation that represents some kind of danger or discomfort. For two hundred years, Astarion experienced sex in a way that was all but comfortable, sex he didn’t really want. It makes sense that his brain automatically switches off. Even though he’s having a good time here, intimacy itself is a trigger, no matter how much he's enjoying it. It’s instinctive, just like flirting is instinctive to him, paradoxically.

And I find the way he explains it quite interesting: he pretends it’s because of his bloodlust, because he didn't want to get carried away.

You see in his eyes that he’s lying. And I kinda like it because it’s sooo relatable. Finding excuses to justify dissociation or plain detachment during sex? yeah, that something I did, with answers along those lines: “I didn’t want to hurt you/I didn’t want to be too intense/I didn’t want to be too loud/I didn't want to scare you/I'm a little tired/etc."

And I still think he enjoys it even if he’s not 100% into it. He keeps his distance (mentally, emotionally) and it’s normal because he’s careful, because he doesn’t really know how to let go. And (healthy, happy) sex is about letting go completely, it‘s about trusting someone and allowing yourself to be completely free from your mental and physical restrains and automatisms.

It’s easy to understand why he can’t fully let go: he’s afraid, because he’s not 100% sure he can enjoy this, because he doesn't know how the PC will behave, and because he must be in control to feel safe.

His body knows how it works, so he lets his body act automatically,  that body which have danced the same dance thousands of time. He doesn’t have to think and it’s easier not to think. Easier and apparently safer than following his true desires. Here again, it's an automatism: his body knows, he can switch his mind off, protecting it from potential bad memories, protecting him from his own desire and feelings, protecting him from the temptation of being himself.

He can’t let go, he has to be in control. if only to make sure he will offer his partner the best performance. Even if he's enjoying the moment because the PC is respectful, playful, gentle or whatever you imagine for this first night, he can't let go.

As you said, he’s convinced the PC is only here for his looks – But think about it: Astarion himself never offered anything other than sex, he didn’t pretend he was in love with the PC. He only offered his body. By doing so, he's also protecting himself from potential feelings (theirs or his) of attachment and affection.

It's like saying “Don’t get attached to me. It’s just SEX”. He pulls up his own walls to keep the PC outside. It's another contradiction: he suffers from being seen as a beautiful and shallow individual who’s only good for sex, but he says upfront that he won’t give more than sex. He keeps the PC away (emotionally) while suffering from it. That’s another defence mechanism, combined with the fact that he probably still sees himself as a "mean to an end" (unconsciously), unable to see that he can be someone else than the "hedonistic and heartless vampire."

Besides, it's probable that he doesn’t believe it’s even possible for anyone to care about him. So he anticipates a potential emotional disappointment by saying that it’s only sex, convincing himself as much as to convince the PC that there’s nothing more to expect from it.

Positive/negative experience

You asked how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative. Let's recap.

Positive feelings:

Excitement (first time having sex on his own terms + he’s attracted to the PC)

Physical pleasure (sex + blood if the PC lets him bite them)

Fun

A sense of freedom

Relief and a sense of pride (they fell into his trap)

A newfound affection (they trust him, they respect him)

Good surprise (he can still have fun while having sex!)

The PC being who they are (more about this later)

Negative feelings:

A sense of obligation

Fear

PTSD

The need to perform and make sure they enjoy it

Habits that make him serve instead of just enjoy the moment

Guilt

Shame

Confusion

Disgust

Feeling of being used (even if the PC isn't exactly "using him"; they accept his offer and they're not to be blamed for it)

One could think that the negative feelings are more important, and true, those bad feelings can be destructive. But I don’t think the unbalance is so evident, maybe because the positive feelings are all completely new to him, therefore they may be particularly powerful.

But in fact, they're all entangled and messy, and I believe Astarion himself can’t really make sense of them.

And later, he sums it up all on his own.

What we know, is that a few days later, he remembers that night as a good experience. And exceptionally good experience.

And tbh I think that’s what matters: What he makes of this night, how he digests and, remembers it, and how he looks back at it. It was special. Special enough for him to admit it.

He admits it feels different with you, it feels good with you -- but he can't yet get rid of the negative feelings sneaking in the back of his mind, ruining what should be a lovely moment.

As for the main feeling at the forefront of his mind… I don’t think it would be one feeling, but more a motivation: “I must stay in control” (whether he succeeded is up to discussion). In the end, I think he manages to suppress his main fears, to keep a certain distance, while at the same time finding himself surprised to be enjoying it.

Questionable motivations and enjoyment

As a SA survivor myself and a former sex-worker, there are so many things that fall close to home both in terms of ptsd, of performance and habitus. I perfectly see how desire, obligations, attraction and disgust can mingle until they become difficult to set apart. {Mind you, I’m not saying that sex-work and sex-abuse are one and the same, far from it. One can be a sex-worker and have never been abused].

In the case of Astarion, he’s first and foremost a survivor, and even if he compares himself to a prostitute a few times, he had no choice in doing it. Therefore, it's not sex-work, it’s human trafficking.

Yet, it's still transactional, and just like a sex-worker, he had to perform, to let the partner(/client) believe that he wanted them, that he wanted it, that he was enjoying it, even when it wasn’t the case. Remember how he made Sebastian believe he was head over heels for him.

During the first night with the PC, Astarion decides to have sex without anyone forcing him to do it. But he doesn’t do it out of sheer lust and attraction. He does it because he wants to keep himself safe and he thinks that’s the only way. Which is, imo, closer to what a sex-worker would do: having sex for money because they need that money to pay the rent or whatever they need to survive. No one is forcing them, except the material conditions and (in Astarion’s case at least) cognitive bias (the belief that he’s “only good at that”) + long terms habits.

And just like a SW, he has to make them believe that he's totally into it (believe me, client don't enjoy it as much if the SW doesn't pretend to be attracted to them).

Look at him, he’s performing. He's said those lines multiples times before. Even the movement of his hand: it’s theatrical. It’s planned and calculated.

This too is instinctive. He's done that for years and he is good at it.

Look at the shift, look how easy it is for him to put on a smiling face to "open a lot of doors" (and legs).

And after pretending to be attracted to those persons, he had to pretend sleeping with them didn't affect him. That too falls close to home.

That line in particular. SO FUCKING RELATABLE IT HURTS.

In my experience, there had been bad experiences. But you go on, because you need to. And to protect your own sanity, you stick to the idea that it's fine, that you can do that again. That it doesn't matter.

But it does matter.

And yet....

In the case of SW (which should always be consensual), being with a client can be a nice experience. Some clients are attractive, some clients are very sweet and respectful, some clients are very good fucks, some clients are all of this (and some clients are bastards but we’re not talking about them here). In any case, they are still clients. As a SW, I didn’t see them as potential ‘real’ lovers, and I wouldn’t have considered sleeping with them in any other situation. It doesn’t mean the experience was bad. I had genuine O with some clients and really enjoyed the company of some of them.

It seems contradictory, but it's real.

Back to Astarion: at the beginning of the meeting it ultimately starts with a performance, like the SW pretending they really want it (whereas they're only do it for money), but it might turn into a really good moment for everyone involved.

And IMO, that's more or less what's happening here with Astarion.

It's a tricky thing to explain because I really don’t want to look like I’m promoting forcing anyone to do anything. Sex should ALWAYS happen in a situation in which all the persons involved are 100% sure they want to do it, and 100% sure their partner(s) want to do it.

But there are exceptional situations (such as sex-work or what Astarion’s going through here, and I can think of other cases), where sex remains enjoyable even if the original motivations weren’t that clear. It’s not fully incompatible. Clearly, that’s NOT a healthy way to deal with your sexuality!!! But it can happen. And the main point here is that it still relies on consent. The person fully consents to do it, but they do it for “questionable” reasons (whether they acknowledge it or not), and they enjoy it in spite of having questionable reasons to do it. It can happen.

I think that’s what happens to Astarion at this point.

(That being said, I repeat it: ALWAYS make sure your partner is fully into it, and NEVER force yourself to have sex if you’re not 100% sure you want it!)

From a transaction to something else

It’s interesting to notice that if the PC refuses to have sex with him in the clearing, he doesn’t really seem to care.

He’s probably disappointed because his plan failed, but his reaction is very different from the reaction you get if the PC rejects him after the first night (my post on this matter here) when he seems really sad to be rejected. It means, I think, that this first night was REALLY meaningful – his heartfelt reaction to your rejection to spend another night together makes it clear. That first night was special since his reaction to your refusal is so very different.

In any case, if the PC refuses during that first night, he says he thought you had an “understanding", and it somehow evokes me something like a transaction (as you rightly mentioned in your message).

And it's not the first time he compares sex with the PC to a transaction. The first time he offers them to sleep with him, he presents it as a reward for letting him bite the PC. It's transactional: You let me feed, I give you sex.

He thinks that’s what sex is about. He has never known anything else, or maybe he did a long time ago but can’t remember.

I wrote that long post about how feeding him can be quite problematic given how he might see it as a transaction (here and here): Offering the the vampire bite kink in order to be fed and survive. It’s the same here.

He knows the PC enjoyed being bitten, he’s convinced they're attracted to him, and by being the one who gives "a reward", he presents himself in a position of control. I “allow” you to have sex with me, since you want it so much: I’m the one making that decision, having more power over you.

After all, in his mind at this point, sex is a question of power. (And if he ascends he undeniably falls back into that pattern; treating sex as a reward, as something to use to better control the PC)

You put it rightly in your message, there's also some sort of familiarity with that transactional system that is deeply comforting.

I won't lie, back in the days, it was sometimes difficult for me to be with someone who wasn't a client, because my partners then didn't expect anything from me. Whereas clients always expect something specific, if only in the SW's behaviour, or/and concerning the acts themselves. And it was comforting. I knew what I had to do to please them. But as I said, it didn't always keep me from having a good time with some clients. It's not incompatible. That's why I think Astarion can still enjoy it even though he's performing, and can get attached to the PC even if it started as something more or less transactional.

And that's precisely why it must have been so destabilizing for him!

After all, when that first night together happens, he appreciates the PC (you need enough approval to sleep with him). As you pointed out, they've already spent several days/weeks together, shared a lot things... That's new to him, sleeping with someone he knows and appreciates.

As a SW, I had defined through the years a clear line between people I met for the job, and people I met outside of it. There was no confusion between the two, even for the long-terms clients – even for the clients I cared about. I liked them, but we weren’t friends, we weren’t partners, we weren’t lovers. And we would never be.

I would say that in the case of Astarion, that separation exists, but it’s not as well defined because, despite his experience, all his partners were destined to end up dead (for all he knew) and he barely knew them anyway. He didn’t have to clearly define that separation because there was no opportunity, no room for him to get attached to them. He saw a target, seduced them, slept with them and they disappeared forever.

It was “easy”, he didn’t have to question the nature of his relationship with them. Whereas after that first night with the PC, they’re still there, alive, and they’re still being this great leader who cares about him and his needs, who values him as a person, someone whose company feels good. His habitus is all messed up and his mental pattern is no long relevant.

{From personal experience, and SW put aside, many years ago, before I really started working on my traumas, I forced myself to believe that I didn’t need affection, tenderness, care. I would never allow myself to cry, I refused to get attached to people (except some very close friends). Because I wanted to be in control of my feelings, I thought it made me look stronger, not showing any kind of vulnerability. I was 27 or 28 when I first experienced genuine tenderness and care while having sex and I realized that there was a softness inside me I had hindered for years and that I actually loved tenderness. Before that, I would run away at the first sign of affection, because it made me feel deeply uncomfortable (and vulnerable).  And when I finally accepted to experience it, it was completely destabilizing. It felt good, but I needed time to adapt.}

Astarion realizing that he wanted something real, soft, and gentle with the PC might have had the same kind of effect, but worse.  Because he was supposed to be manipulating the PC, to pull the strings, and he suddenly found himself being “manipulated” by his own feelings.

It must have been terrifying for him, realising that he could feel something like this. Because it means he doesn’t control himself (his feelings) as much as he wants to, as much as he thought he could. He "falls" for the PC, the expression itself being one of vulnerability.

For him, falling in love = falling into a trap. He was supposed to be the one crafting that trap, and he ends up being trapped by his (uncontrollable) feelings.

That's why he can sound so cynical about your affair. This banter is from Act 2 if you romance him:

He feels uncomfortable, not because you had sex, but because it actually means something, and he doesn't not how to deal with it. It's easier to joke about it than to admit that maybe he's not so much in control.

It's not the PC's fault

He’s hurt, he has PTSD, but he can now think by himself and make his own choices, for better or worse.

It’s normal for us, fans who know the rest of the story, to worry about him and to not want to have him do something he's not fully into. But we should give him some credits and let him experience sex his own way.

When you’re a survivor, sometimes you have great sex experience, sometimes your PTSD will ruin it, and you won’t be able to go through with it. Sometimes you have sex for bad reasons, sometimes you regret it and sometimes you’re proud of it. Sometimes you have healthy sex and sometimes you use it to hurt yourself. It’s normal. That’s what healing is about and how you learn to define your boundaries.

Astarion didn’t have any body agency for two centuries, it’s coherent that his first experience as a free man is driven by questionable reasons. You can’t expect him to immediately find a healthy way to deal with his sexuality.

For instance, if you don't sleep with him at the party, he spends the night with Lae'zel, and imho it's even worse.

She shamelessly uses him like a toy, and he knows about it. But it's still his decision to sleep with her, even if his motivations aren't "good". You can't take that away from him on the pretext of protecting him. He doesn't need that kind of infantilisation. Same thing when he decides to sleep with the PC.

The thing is that the PC can’t know. As benevolent and respectful and selfless as the PC is, it’s part of Astarion's storyline that they don’t notice anything. He does his best to keep the mask up because the last thing he wants is to look vulnerable to you.

And he knows it's not the PC's fault. He slept with them for questionable reasons and he feels bad about it; not because he thinks they hurt him, but because he knows he mostly hurt himself, and he feels bad for manipulating the PC.

He doesn't blame the PC for it, and I'm sure it's not because he's deluded by his sense of guilt. After all, he never blamed his targets for sleeping with him, even the "villains" among them. They're not the enemies.

Those who hurt him didn't hurt him because they accepted to sleep with him, but more probably because of their behaviours during sex.

Besides, if the PC uses the confession dialogue to trick him into sleeping with them again, Astarion accepts before realising how disgusted he feels about it, and there he blames the PC for it, because here they explicitly abused his trust, using his vulnerabilities against him. It's still difficult for him to say no, especially to someone he respects, but he can say no when he's not taken aback in his most vulnerable moments (again: he doesn't sleep with the PC at all if there's not enough approval). Sleeping with him that first night doesn't make the PC an abuser.

In act 1, the PC has no way to know how Astarion is feeling about sex, The PC is one that fool who wanted to love him...

Trust

I already mentioned how pleased he looks when the PC let him bite them, and I think it has to do with trust. They accept to spend the night with him although they know he's a vampire and they trust him not to drink too much. Look at his reaction if the PC warn him not to bite.

He's really disappointed, enough to put an end to this affair. The tone he uses here doesn't seem 100% genuine, though, masking indignation? frustration? sadness? I don't know, but the "it's about pleasure" sounds so fake to me.

He nonetheless decides to not sleep with the PC - he listens to himself and realises he doesn't want to spend the night with someone who can't trust him. The PC has taken back their trust and reduced him to his vampiric nature (as something bad). Whereas if they sleep with him, they show him that they accept him.

That’s what makes that night so special: not thanks to some sort of “collective ecstasy” but thanks to mutual trust. The PC trusts him not to hurt them. Astarion trust them not to abuse him. He’s not ready to be vulnerable, but he allows himself to enjoy that moment with the PC, despite his plan, despite his past. Because they've both come this far and the PC has proved him multiple times that he could rely on them. It’s a fragile trust at this point, but it’s still more than  what he’d ever had before.

An essential step

IMHO this scene is essential in the romance route. I know some players wished there could be an option to romance him without sleeping with him, and I perfectly understand why. Realizing that he might have not be totally into it is painful. It’s uncomfortable. I also understand that if the PC is demi-sexual/ace, it makes the romance road a bit awkward. And it’s a valid feeling.

You can romance him without sleeping with him as Karlach origin, and that's because it's Karlach. The tension arises from the fact she can’t and wants it so much (for good reasons), whereas Astarion can and wants it somehow (for questionable reasons). That road is specific to them both because they are a mirroring one another.

Karlach aside, the thing is that in terms of narrative growth and storyline, this first night is the starting point of his healing journey. For the first time in 200 years, he has sex in a safe environment. For the first time, he finds a partner who trusts him enough to sleep with him even though they know he’s a vampire who could bite them. For the first time in his existence he can have real fun while having sex, he can be silly and roll on the ground. And maybe during this moment, he’s no longer the “sexy vampire” but just a man frolicking in the forest with someone he's attracted to. And again, it's still his decision, no matter how "bad" his motivations are. We should give him some credit.

I think it’s a brave move from Larian to put the players in that situation, to make them face the harsh reality of trauma. The harsh reality of being with someone who has such complicated feelings towards sex because of their trauma. It’s real. Very real. And it feels good to be seen.

You don’t always know the past of your sexual partners. You don’t always know what’s in their mind when you’re sleeping together. And if you happen to learn the harsh truth, it stings.

The Act 2 confession wouldn't be such a powerful scene without the first night. Astarion wouldn't have appeared so brave. Telling the PC about his former motivations must have been incredibly difficult, telling them "I wanted it but wasn't really into it" is freaking brave, and it's a token of trust he gives to the PC. Without that first night, it would have fallen flat. The PC would have just felt some kind of pride for not falling for his flirting and...that's it. Good, have a medal. Instead, the narrative puts the PC in an uncomfortable position, asking them: "Can you accept that? Because that's what trauma looks like and it's ugly."

That first night is inherent to Astarion's storyline, and to its message. That man goes from someone whose only reason to exist is being a sensual, sexual being in a cruel environment - someone who cannot connect with others without sex - to a man who finds out that he’s more than that, that sex doesn’t have to be dangerous, that’s it’s so much more than a game of power. And when you compare his grandiloquent attitude during that first night to his behaviour in the graveyard scene, it’s even more telling.

Those two scenes need to exist side by side to make sense, to reveal the evolution.

Everything about him in the graveyard scene - his body language, the look in his eyes, his voice - is a reversed image of that first night. He’s at peace, he doesn’t have to use those stupid lines about “mutual ecstasy” and how he will “taste you”, he doesn’t look down on the PC or look away. He looks into their eyes and tells them with his own words that he’d love to have sex with them.

But you have to experience both situations for the graveyard one to be so powerful. To witness that beautiful evolution. And Astarion too; he has to experience a “not so real” night with the PC to know that he wants something real with them.

It makes it all the more meaningful and sweeter. And imo, the graveyard scene is so freaking hot! Much more than that first night! Because it's genuine. It’s simple. He knows what he wants, his motivations are clear. It’s a man telling his lover “I want you”. A man who's learning to decipher what he really wants and to express it. And it’s more than enough.

[Let’s be honest, it’s been quite challenging to write all this. I rarely talk about my past online (for obvious reasons) and this scene means so much to me. Analysing it feels a little bit like analysing myself. And if you ever went through therapy, you know how hard it is xD In any case, that’s still my pov, based on my personal experience. I don’t pretend I hold the keys to a universal truth about it. We all have our own experience and sensibilities, and all of them are valid, even if we don’t agree in our interpretations.]

Thank you again @rivereverie for giving me the opportunity to dig into all this. I hope my humble opinion will help.

Last thing, a moment a god I wrote a short fic about Astarion’s preparing himself for that first night, and it’s here.

[writingpandagoth]

Idea for request. Some woman flirt with Severus and y/n is jelaous. Severus handles the situation well and show Y/n that she is the one.

(If you write smut, he can show her at home in bed how he love her 😈, but it doesn’t have to be)

uffff!😭

I am telling you I was shaking and screaming and had about three mental breakdowns writing this but I have done it. (I am sorry)

After years I actually wrote real smut again.

I hope it is enjoyable.😅😂

This story contains sexual happenings

This is only for those of age so anyone under 18 I have loads of other stories you could read please fo not read this one.

Authors Note: contains a dumb bitch who is trying to steal our man, Possessive behavior, Marking, Unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (female receiving) basically just some good hard fucking (again Im sorry). There is also aftercare because I don't do sex scenes without proper care afterwards.

My Only One

The dungeon quarters are always quiet in the early hours—before the castle wakes, before the halls fill with adolescent chaos. Down here, it’s just the low crackle of the fireplace and the gentle clink of mugs as you set two on the small table.

You’re in on of Severus's robes, hair pulled up haphazardly, sleeves rolled to your elbows. Steam curls from the teapot. The scent of bergamot mixes with something faintly smoky—Severus’s blend, always sharper than yours.

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind.

You don’t need to turn to know it’s him. The way his hands settle—firm, steady—says everything. Not a request. A claim. You lean back into him with a small, content sigh.

“You’re up early,” you murmur.

His voice is rough with sleep. “Didn’t want you leaving the bed without me.”

“You were snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

You smile.

His lips brush the side of your neck, not quite a kiss—just enough heat to make your breath catch. One of his hands slides over your stomach, fingers flexing possessively through the thin fabric of your robe.

“Severus,” you say, soft but amused, “I’m trying to make tea.”

“You’re always trying to do something,” he mutters. “Just stand still for a moment.”

You do. And he holds you, cheek resting against your temple, arms tight around your waist like he’s anchoring himself to you.

This is what most people don’t see—the version of him that’s quiet and warm and a little selfish when it comes to you. Not the fearsome professor, not the sharp-tongued Potions Master. Just a man who likes to hold you before the day begins.

Eventually, he releases you with a final squeeze. You pour the tea. He sits, black robes already pulled on, collar askew from rushing. You cross the room and fix it without a word, fingers brushing the hollow of his throat.

He watches you the entire time.

“Professor Selwyn arrives today,” he says, breaking the silence. “Arithmancy.”

You hum. “I read her file. Transferred from the Prague Institute. Good reputation. A little…flashy.”

He arches a brow. “You’ve seen her?”

“No,” you say. “But anyone who writes a seventeen-page self-introduction for a faculty dossier is looking to be noticed.”

He snorts. “We’ll see.”

You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Play nice.”

His hand wraps gently around your wrist as you pull away, and he looks up at you with something unreadable in his eyes. There’s a pause—weighted.

Then “You look particularly ravishable in my robe.”

You blink, surprised, heat blooming in your cheeks.

“Breakfast,” you say quickly, grabbing your wand to transfigure your clothes. “Now.”

He smirks, but doesn’t argue. That look follows you all the way to the Great Hall.

The staff table buzzed more than usual at breakfast.

Professor Flitwick was animated, chatting with Hooch about Quidditch prospects. Minerva wore her usual stern expression but with a flicker of amusement as the conversation floated around her. And at the far end of the table, freshly seated between Sprout and Vector, was her.

Professor Selwyn.

Blonde, sleek, poised—dressed in tailored navy robes that hugged her figure in all the places most people pretended not to notice. She smiled easily, laughed even easier, and introduced herself to every staff member like she’d already memorized their biographies.

You watched, not with malice—but with curiosity. She was pretty. Clearly intelligent. Magnetic in that effortless, practiced way.

It wasn’t until she turned her eyes toward the seat beside your partner that your stomach began to shift.

“Oh, Professor Snape,” she said, standing as he approached. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

He stopped short, only just concealing the pause.

“Have you,” he said flatly.

“Oh yes,” she purred. “Your papers on counter-poisons are still referenced at Durmstrang. I’m actually hoping you’ll let me audit a few of your sixth-year classes—strictly for professional development, of course.”

Severus slid into his chair beside you with a nod that was neither warm nor dismissive. “As long as you don’t interrupt my teaching, I don’t see why not.”

You sipped your tea slowly.

Selwyn sat too. But not before placing her hand briefly on his shoulder.

It lingered.

You didn’t react. Not yet. But you felt Severus go still beside you, just for a second. Then he reached for his tea as if nothing happened.

Throughout the meal, Selwyn continued: asking him questions about potion storage, classroom ventilation, ingredient sourcing from the Balkans.

She never looked at you once.

When breakfast ended, you moved to stand. So did Severus, silently beside you as always. Selwyn leaned forward.

“Oh—Professor Snape,” she said, voice dropping slightly. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to give me a tour of the dungeons sometime this week? I hear you’ve made some… personal modifications.”

He glanced at her, then at you.

Your expression didn’t waver.

“I’ll consider it,” he said curtly.

Her smile widened.

You walked out of the Great Hall without speaking. He followed.

When you reached the end of the corridor, you finally said, “She’s bold.”

“She’s transparent,” he replied. “And annoying.”

“She knows we’re together.”

“Yes.”

“And she still touches you.”

He stopped walking. Turned.

“Would you like me to publicly hex her?” he asked, deadpan.

You tried to hide your smile. “Not yet.”

He stepped closer, voice low.

“Then stop looking at me like you think I’ve already betrayed you.”

You blinked.

“I haven’t,” he added. “And I won’t.”

With that, he turned and walked away, robes sweeping behind him.

You watched him go, stomach tight with something hot and unspoken. Something told you Selwyn wasn’t finished.

And neither were you.

--

You weren’t looking for her but she was always there.

In the staff lounge, draped over a chair near Severus, flipping through some textbook she clearly didn’t need, laughing too loudly at something he didn’t even say.

In the corridors, catching up with him conveniently right outside your classroom door, brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

At staff meetings, leaning across the table, whispering something behind her hand, smiling like a secret.

You told yourself it didn’t matter.

You knew Severus. You trusted him. He wasn’t warm to strangers and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna fall for a flirtatious giggling woman who believed she was above everything.

But Selwyn didn’t care about subtlety—or boundaries.

You watched it happen again that afternoon.

The two of them walking ahead of you down the dungeon corridor, Selwyn’s laugh echoing off the stone. She reached out and touched his arm—again.

You caught up. She didn’t move her hand.

“Oh, Professor Y/L/N,” she said with false surprise. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously,” you said flatly.

Severus didn’t look at her just stared straight ahead, jaw tight.

She dropped her hand but didn’t look the least bit sorry.

“I was just telling Severus—can I call you Severus?—that I might need some help re-stabilizing my supply closet. I’ve had so many issues with shrinkage spells lately.”

“Hire a house-elf,” you said, not bothering to smile.

Selwyn laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day. “Oh, you’re funny.”

Then, sweet as sugar: “You’re so lucky, really. He’s… a mystery, isn’t he?”

You stared at her. “He’s not a mystery to me.”

“Mm.” She leaned in a little, voice just low enough. “Well, I know he takes a little...melting but I am sure if I tried more he wouldn't be able to resist me.”

Something snapped behind your ribs. Severus stopped walking. Turned around slowly.

Selwyn froze.

His voice was ice. “Professor Selwyn, I suggest you remember who you’re speaking in front of.”

She blinked. “Of course. I didn’t mean anything. it was just harmless fun.”

You didn’t wait to hear more. You brushed past them both and kept walking. You knew better than to show weakness in front of her but your hands were trembling by the time you reached your office.

That night, you said nothing. Not during dinner. Not during your grading beside Severus. Not even when he leaned over and kissed your shoulder before bed.

You turned off the light and stared at the ceiling, every nerve buzzing.

You trusted him. But she was chipping away at something you didn’t even realize was fragile.

And worse?

She knew it.

--

It was late.

The halls were dim, lit only by the occasional torch. Most of the castle had gone quiet, students tucked into dormitories, staff tucked into their routines.

You were heading to Severus’s office, planning to drop off the final version of the interdepartmental syllabus revisions—mundane, but necessary.

Then you saw her.

Professor Selwyn, stepping out of his office.

She wasn’t in work robes anymore. Just a soft, fitted blouse that had way to many buttons open and dark trousers. Hair down. A single glass in her hand—half-drained wine, dark red.

She didn’t look startled to see you. If anything, she looked... smug.

“Oh,” she said sweetly, pausing in the corridor. “I didn't expected to see you here. We were having an intense... discussion.”

She tilted the glass as if to toast you. “To my success”

You didn’t answer her. You didn’t need to. The door to Severus’s office was still ajar. You pushed it open and stepped inside.

He looked up from behind his desk, startled. The glass in front of him still full. His posture was rigid, arms crossed, dark eyes unreadable.

“She just left,” he said coolly.

“I saw.” you replied, closing the door behind you.

There was silence. Thick and sharp.

“She brought wine,” you said. “And dressed like that. To your office. At night.”

“I didn’t drink it.”

“She still came.”

“She comes everywhere,” he muttered, standing now. “I didn’t invite her.”

You stared at him, heart hammering.

“Do you enjoy it?” The question came out low. Raw. “The attention? The way she fawns over you? Touches you in front of me like I’m not even there?”

His face darkened. “You think I want her?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Severus,” you said. “She walks around like she’s already won. Like she knows something I don’t.”

He moved quickly—around the desk, toward you. Not angry. Focused.

“You think I’d throw away what I have with you,” he said, voice hard, “for her?”

“What am I supposed to think? You never say anything.”

He stopped in front of you. Close now. His voice dropped to a near-whisper.

“Then listen now very carefully.”

His hand came up—slow, controlled—and curled around the back of your neck. Not rough. Steady. Grounding.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think I had to. Because I thought what we had was obvious. Unshakable.”

You swallowed.

His thumb brushed your jaw.

“But if she’s made you question it—question me—then I’ve failed to show you something I should have from the start.”

He leaned in, forehead resting gently against yours.

“So let me show you now.”

His mouth crashed into yours, messy and hard, teeth knocking yours as he shoved you back against the stone wall like he couldn’t wait another second. One hand curled around your waist, the other buried in your hair, anchoring you there. Not hurting—but holding. Claiming.

“You really think I want her?” he rasped into your mouth, voice gravel-rough and low, his breath hot against your skin.

“You think I’d look at anyone else when I already have you?”

His mouth dropped to your neck, biting hard—no gentle warning, just teeth and tongue and a sharp inhale from your lungs. You gasped, fingers clutching the back of his cloak as his body pressed against yours, thick and hot and unyielding.

“I see the way you burn when she touches me,” he growled, dragging his mouth down your throat.

“I feel it. Do you really think I’d waste a single fucking second of my life on anyone who isn’t you?”

You whimpered—because you didn’t have a good answer. Because you’d let the insecurity get in. Because the way he was holding you, speaking to you, consuming you—there was no room for anyone else in this heat. It was him. Only him.

“Get over here,” he snapped

He yanked you up into his arms like you weighed nothing, sweeping everything off his desk with one arm and set you down on the edge. Papers scattered, a quill rolled to the floor, the still full wine glass shattered on the floor.

But you didn't care you were pulling at his robes with shaking hands. 

“I’m going to fuck you so thoroughly you won’t remember your own name,” he growled, dragging your clothes off piece by piece. “The only thing in your head will be me.”

He kissed you again—filthy, tongue and teeth, nothing controlled. His fingers slipped beneath your panties, finding you wet and ready, and he groaned into your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re already soaked for me”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Only you—always you.”

That made something inside him break. 

He dropped to his knees ripping your panties off you, hooked your legs over his shoulders, and buried his face between your thighs like a man possessed. He didn’t tease—he devoured. Tongue licking up your cunt before sucking on your clit, hands gripping your thighs so tight you knew there’d be bruises. And you wanted them.

Your head fell back. Legs spread. Voice gone.

“Fuck—Severus—oh god—”

“That’s it,” he murmured, the vibration of his voice against your core sending shocks up your spine.

“Make those sounds. Let the whole castle know who’s got you like this.”

You were already trembling, fingers twisted in his hair, thighs trying to close around his head. He growled, shoved them open again.

“Don’t fucking hide from me.”

You sobbed his name, trembling, unraveling as he worked you with relentless focus—like he needed you to fall apart to breathe again.

You came the first time with his name on your lips, body jerking, vision blurred.

But he didn’t stop.

His tongue only left you long enough for his fingers to take over—two of them sliding deep, curling just right, and then three—stretching you, fucking into you slow and deep while his mouth came back down over your clit with maddening devotion.

The sounds—wet, obscene, perfect—filled the room, and you couldn’t even form words anymore. Just broken moans and sharp cries, your thighs shaking violently as he dragged another orgasm out of you like it was his purpose.

Another.

And another.

You were crying now—literally—tears slipping down your cheeks from the sheer, overwhelming intensity. The pleasure blurred into pain, back into pleasure. Your whole body burned.

And still, his fingers pumped into you, slick and relentless, his mouth murmuring praises against you like a prayer.

“Look at you,” he said, lifting his head just long enough to see you falling apart. His mouth glistened, his fingers still buried in you, slowly curling just right again.

“Fucking ruined. And I haven’t even been inside you yet.”

His voice was reverent—darkly tender.

“Everything she wants? You already own it.”

He pulled his fingers out slowly, dragging your slick across your inner thighs like a mark, then brought them to your lips.

“Open.”

You did. And you tasted yourself as he slid them in, watching you with dark, burning eyes.

“She’ll never get this,” he growled, voice low and wrecked. “She’ll never get to feel me like this.”

He licked his lips when he stood, eyes black with hunger.

“You’re never going to doubt me again,” he growled. “I’m going to make you scream so that she can hear.”

He stripped fast. Shirt, trousers, everything gone and slammed his mouth against yours again—deep, messy, consuming. You clawed at his back, dragging him closer, needing him like oxygen.

He lined himself up—thick, hot, already pulsing—and pressed the tip of his cock right against your entrance.

And stopped.

You gasped. Eyes flying open, body trembling with frustration.

He didn’t move.

Just held you there—stretched just barely, the threat of fullness teasing your every nerve ending. He looked down at you, gaze wild, jaw tight with restraint.

“You want it?” he asked, voice dark silk. “You want me to fuck you like she doesn’t exist? Like there’s never been anyone but you?”

“Severus, please—”

He dipped his head to your throat, biting gently.

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

You were already breathless, already wrecked from the buildup alone. Your hands clutched his arms, thighs shaking.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please—I need you—I need you to fuck me.”

And that was all it took.

He growled—deep, possessive—and then snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one, brutal thrust.

Your cry echoed through the stone room.

And then he was moving, fast and deep, every thrust a declaration, every groan a claim.

“You feel too good,” he gasped into your neck, moving hard and deep. “I could live inside you. I could stay like this forever.”

He moved fast, rough—hips slamming into yours with purpose, desk rattling beneath you. You couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. His name left your lips in broken sobs, your legs wrapping around him like you were afraid he might disappear if you didn’t hold tight enough.

“Tell me who owns you,” he snarled, his breath hot against your throat.

“You—fuck, Severus—you.”

“That’s right.” His hand wrapped around your throat—not squeezing, just holding, grounding you in his intensity. “And you own me, love. All of me. There’s nothing left for anyone else. There never was and never will be.”

He kissed you again—ravenous and claiming. And then, suddenly, he pulled out, just enough to flip you onto your stomach against the desk. Your hands scrambled for purchase, cheek pressed to the cold wood as you panted, blinking hard to stay grounded.

Then he was back.

Thrusting in deeper this time, from behind—your back arched, his chest pressing over your back as he folded himself around you, one hand fisting in your hair, the other gripping your hip so tightly it bordered on bruising.

He fucked you like he needed to erase her—like he was carving it into your soul that you were his and he was yours.

“Let me fucking ruin you.” he growled into your ear.

You keened beneath him—helpless, soaked, completely gone.

He kept moving—deep, relentless, his cock dragging against every sweet, swollen nerve inside you—and your body betrayed you again. The orgasm hit with no warning, crashing through you like a tidal wave.

You sobbed as you came, whole body spasming beneath him, your voice breaking on his name.

“Look at you,” he rasped, pace savage now. “So fucking desperate for me. You were made for this—made for me. You’re mine. You’re mine.”

And still, he didn’t stop.

Your body trembled beneath him, overstimulated, soaked, wrecked in a way that left no doubt—you were completely, irreversibly his.

“I should stop,” he growled, hips still punishing. “But I can’t. Not when you feel this good. Not when your body’s begging me to stay.”

He pulled you up suddenly, pulling out to turn you around again chest to chest. He sat you on the edge of the desk again, his hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your thigh as he sank back into you again, deeper, over and over, voice raw against your ear.

“Let her fucking look,” he hissed. “Let her dream. She will never know what it’s like to be this full. To be this loved by me.”

You cried out again, the pressure mounting in your gut, your muscles tightening as you clung to him with everything left.

“One more,” he whispered. “Come for me one more time. I want to feel you fall apart while I fill you. I want to watch you break.”

And you did.

You shattered around him, body convulsing, voice torn from your throat as you came with everything you had left. His name was the only thing you could form, whispered like prayer, screamed like surrender.

Severus’s rhythm faltered—And when he came, it was violent—a full-body convulsion, a broken moan into your neck, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, burying himself to the hilt with one final, brutal thrust.

He held you through it, breath ragged, mouth pressed to your jaw as he whispered:

“You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. And I’m yours. Every fucking inch.”

Your body was limp against him, muscles twitching in the aftermath. The world had narrowed to his weight pressing into you, the soft sting between your legs, the heavy warmth of his release still inside you. Every part of you felt raw. Open. Owned.

Severus didn’t move right away. He just held you. Breathing hard. Face buried in your neck. One hand splayed wide across your back like he was still anchoring you. Like if he let go, you might disappear.

Eventually, he pulled back—just enough to see your face.

Your skin slick with sweat, your mind blank in that fragile, blissed-out way that made everything feel distant. But his hands were still steady. His voice, low and grounding. His body, wrapped around yours like a shield.

Then, without a word, he eased out of you, murmuring a quiet apology when you whimpered at the loss. He took his pants and pulled them on without a word before he reached for his robe and draped it around you still a little warm from his body, still smelling like clove and parchment and dark spice.

You blinked, dazed.

“Don’t want you getting cold,” he murmured, pulling the fabric around your shoulders and fastening the top button with gentle fingers.

Then, with one sweep of his wand, he cast a charm that tidied the desk, vanished the mess, and reset the room with practiced ease. He hooked one arm under your legs and the other around your back.

You didn’t protest.

He carried you through the hidden door that connected his office to your shared chambers, the one only you and he used. His grip on you never faltered—tight, secure, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

He laid you gently on the edge of the bed, then disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

You heard the sound of water running. The clink of bottles. Steam began curling into the bedroom, scented faintly with lavender and bergamot. When he returned, he had shed the last of his clothes, his expression softer now—still intense, but more... tender.

He picked you up again—no warning, just warm arms, strong and sure.

“You’re not walking anywhere,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Not after that.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself melt against him.

The bath was deep and hot, the surface scattered with herbs and oils that shimmered faintly in the candlelight. He stepped into the water with you still in his arms, settling you carefully in his lap, the robe slipping away as the warmth enveloped your skin.

He held you there, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other running a soft cloth over your thighs, your stomach, your chest.

Just taking care.

His hands were reverent. Almost... apologetic. Like he was giving back something he’d taken.

He kissed your shoulder. Your jaw. The inside of your wrist. Every inch of skin he could reach, he honored.

“You did so well for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Took everything. Gave me everything.”

Your breath hitched, eyes closing.

“Severus...”

“I mean it.” Another kiss. Another slow sweep of his hand across your stomach. “You let me lose control. And you still trusted me.”

“I always trust you.”

He stilled for a second.

Then pulled you tighter to his chest, lips pressing to your hair.

When the water began to cool, he stood again, holding you like you weighed nothing. He dried you with a charm, then towel-dried the rest with care—rubbing gentle circles into your back, your arms, the soft insides of your thighs.

He vanished briefly into the wardrobe, returning with one of his old black undershirts—soft, worn, and smelling like him.

“You sleep better in my clothes,” he said simply, tugging it over your head.

You did. And he always remembered.

When you were finally dressed, warm and boneless, he lifted you once more and laid you down on your side of the bed, then slid in beside you and pulled you against his chest.

You pressed your face into his throat, your body melting against him.

For a long time, there was only breathing.

Then, his voice—quiet, vulnerable, honest.

“She means nothing. She doesn't have a chance against you.”

You didn’t move.

“I didn’t say anything because I thought you knew,” he continued. “But I should have. I should have told her and made it clear. That there is no one else but you.”

You tilted your head just enough to meet his eyes.

“I know that now.”

“I’ll make it clear,” he murmured. “Although she can keep trying. I hope she does.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Because it’ll kill her,” he said, leaning in, “to see you tomorrow—glowing. Sore. knowing I was the one to cause it.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers traced slow circles on your back.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

He chuckled once—low and tired. Then kissed your temple and whispered, “Sleep, my love.”

And you did.

Safe. Claimed. Loved.

--

The staff lounge buzzed with quiet morning energy. Flitwick stirred honey into his tea. Sprout flipped through seed catalogs. McGonagall read the Daily Prophet, her expression already unimpressed by whatever was on the front page.

Near the window, Severus Snape sat like a shadow in silk—silent, unreadable, hands wrapped around a cup of black tea.

And beside him, far too close, was Professor Selwyn.

She leaned in with a soft, fabricated laugh, her fingers brushing his sleeve.

“Oh, I just adore the smell of chamomile in the morning,” she said lightly. “Don’t you?”

Severus didn’t look at her.

McGonagall’s eyes lifted from her paper, unimpressed. Sprout sipped her tea louder than necessary. Flitwick tapped his spoon that sounded suspiciously like the funeral march.

“I was thinking I could stop by your office again this evening,” Selwyn continued, voice dropping. “Just to go over—”

“I have papers to grade, Professor Selwyn,” Severus interrupted, his tone clipped and cold. “I don’t have time for unimportant matters.”

She laughed too loudly, undeterred, her hand drifting too close to his again.

“Oh, I’ve always thought there’s nothing more attractive than discipline,” she said, voice laced with false intimacy. “And I do mean discipline in every sense...”

Still, Severus didn’t react. He sipped his tea like she wasn’t there.

Then the door opened.

You stepped in, unhurried. Your teaching robes hung loosely around you, hair undone, expression composed—but undeniably glowing.

Selwyn looked up and smiled, too fast. “Professor Y/L/N,” she said sweetly. “You look a bit tired.”

You nodded. “I am, actually.”

Then, without a word, your fingers slipped to the clasp of your robe. You undid it slowly and slid it off your shoulders, revealing one of Severus’s black button-ups beneath—oversized, rumpled, unmistakably his. Your collarbone and neck bloomed with fresh, unmistakable marks.

The room shifted.

Sprout made a soft sound behind her tea that might have been a laugh.

“Oh dear,” Flitwick murmured, “someone had a productive evening.”

McGonagall turned another page of the paper, a restrained smile curling at her lips. “Seems someone didn’t sleep through the night.”

You offered a cheeky grin, then walked calmly to Severus’s chair, draped your robe over the back of it and reached for a fresh mug. You poured your tea as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Selwyn watched you, stiff and silent.

Then, casually, you glanced at the space beside Severus still occupied by her—and chose instead to lower yourself directly into his lap.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just settled a hand on your thigh, possessive and casual, while his eyes drank you in.

You winced slightly as you sat. He noticed. Everyone noticed.

“My goodness,” Sprout said, feigning concern. “You look a little wrecked, dear.”

“Oh yes,” Flitwick added with mock-seriousness. “That’s the look of someone who got very little sleep. Must make teaching quite difficult today.”

Selwyn’s entire body tensed.

You took another slow sip of your tea. “I managed.”

Severus finally spoke—calm, precise, and utterly deadly.

“I’m actually surprised she can still walk,” he said, as if observing the weather. “But she’s always been impressively resilient.”

You choked on a laugh.

Sprout gasped, delighted. “Oh my.”

McGonagall didn’t look up from her paper, but her lips twitched. “Mm. Thorough indeed.”

Flitwick chuckled, lifting his tea in a subtle toast. “To resilience, then.”

Selwyn stood without a word. Face flushed, jaw tight, she turned and left the lounge in absolute silence.

The door closed behind her.

Severus sipped his tea.

You leaned back against his chest, utterly unbothered.

Victory never tasted so sweet.

[okaysonny]

nsfw headcanons 〆 jake kim

a/n: idk how to write smut...writing about smut however... 🙂‍↕️ wanted to feed my jake fixation ❤️

afab! reader ✦ established relationship ✦ nsfw content under cut

has he ever had sex? (in canon)

it's not explicitly confirmed, but we can be 99.9% sure he's a virgin lol. for obvious reasons, he's saving his first time for someone special, someone he's built a connection with.

and right now (as of 544), jake isn't actively looking for one. if he finds someone he ends up liking, those feelings will just...come by chance.

even without his father's example, he's not the type to do casual dating or hookups at all (imo anyway). he's just a chill guy who likes friendship and fishcakes ❤️

favourite positions?

jake is a man of 🌹 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 🌹 so the classic missionary is his fav. cowgirl is nice too, but he just loves the closeness.

how 🗣️ is he?

trust that jake has the most angelic, harmonious, sheet gripping moans in lookism 😮‍💨 very comfortable expressing his pleasure!

loves moaning in your ear during missionary - he wants you to know how good you feel.

what's he actually like during the deed?

gangster son in the streets, gentle lover in the sheets 😇 if you like rough + degrading sex, you're not getting it from him lolz. unless you really wanted to, but he wouldn't enjoy it as much.

jake always prioritises your pleasure over his. #1 of big deal, but also #1 foreplay enjoyer (^_-) makes you cum multiple times on his mouth and fingers before getting to the main event.

and when it actually happens, he never finishes before you. i think jake equally enjoys the intimacy of cumming inside and also how your stomach looks with his release on it.

he likes kissing your neck + whispering his admiration as you catch your breath.

aftercare?

loves cuddling after doing it 💘 just comfortable silence as jake holds you in his arms.

and like i said, he's a gentle lover, so he won't hesitate to carry you (bridal style 🌹) to the shower if he thinks you need the pampering. jake...i've seen wot u did 4 samuel...carry me bridal style PLEASEEE

toys? does he like them?

i don't think many of the lookism men would be into toys tbh. jake isn't an exception. if you want to use them, he doesn't mind, but...they don't tickle his fancy.

does he prefer 🍑 or 🍒 ?

THIGHS! he's a thigh guy. if you wear shorts or a revealing skirt, you'll catch jake staring multiple times. he loves staying in between them too ;)

how 📏 is he?

ptj wants us to know his characters have the biggest, juiciest, thickest cocks in the world 😭😭 eg: the sauna scene with samuel + eli during suwon arc - "woah! those guys are huge!"...like we get it sir...

but i think jake is average sized tbh! not too big, not too small. just the right size :3

💭 a sexual fantasy of his?

again...he's a man of 🌹 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 🌹, so even his fantasies are pretty sweet and romantic.

his secret wish is making love to you by the sea. (the jake + samuel angst location)

but one of big deal could easily spot you, so he stays quiet 🙂‍↕️

if you're both there really late at night and get carried away, it'll probably happen. he'd use his long black coat as a blanket.

a/n: i want to fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid

divider credits - enchanthings

[onmykneesformatt]

vanilla - c.s.

requested: yes!!

synopsis: after a lengthy relationship, chris decides to try and surprise you on your 7 month anniversary. it doesn’t go how he planned, and he feels bad.

warnings: SMUT OH MY FUCK. just very aggressive (no major abuse or violence), degrading, choking, hair-pulling, overstimulation, use of safe word, aftercare, angst (happy ending tho!!), i don’t think anything else but lmk!!

a/n: i think it’s about time i write smth about chris and feed y’all. so, eat up!! (also i tried to put a picture and it literally wouldn’t let me😭)

you and chris never really thought about kinks or anything like that. you had talked about it, but the furthest you two ever went was just filming it once or twice. even then, it was still very vanilla. it was soft, enjoyable, and not very rough.

chris wanted to change that.

“so, wait. are we going somewhere?”

“we can, but that’s not the surprise.”

chris kind of smirked, knowing that his surprise was not something you expected.

“can you just tell me? it almost dark out and we’be barely done anything all day except for you making me a nice breakfast. which, i did appreciate by the way.”

“you’re welcome, and no. i’m not telling you.”

he tapped his fingertips together and chuckled lightly. he liked surprising you. he’d done it multiple times before. a bouquet on your door step, a new pair of expensive heels, even flying home early from boston and not telling you. it was his thing.

and tonight was a surprise.

-

at 9:30 pm, you started to get ready for bed. you almost did it in protest for how you and chris barely did anything today.

“oooh, what’s this? toner? replace the t with a b.”

he giggled. how dare he? after not giving you a major day like he does every other anniversary?

you kept a straight face, not breaking eye contact with your face in the mirror as you kept applying serums and creams.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, chris.”

he knew that whenver you ended a sentence with his name, you were mad.

“look, how about i meet you in the bedroom in five minutes, and make it up to you?”

you let a little smile show, remembering that your surprise to him was a peachy-orange lingerie set that hugged you in all the right places and showed all the right skin.

“fine.”

-

it started slow and sweet, like always.

but it slowly turned into more.

he went from having you on your back with him lightly laying on you to flipping you onto all fours and ripping the new lingerie set off— literally.

“chris-“

“shut up and take it. i know you can, slut.”

it felt good, the way he was pounding into you.

what didn’t feel good was him calling you the one word you didn’t like. after he started pulling your hair, it all felt real.

were you really just some toy he used? was this his breaking point where he realized he didn’t actually like or respect you like he pretended?

“chris, i don’t-“

he pushed your face into the pillow, tightening his grip on your hair.

“i said shut the fuck up. god, you really are just some slut who thinks she can do anything she wants.”

tears started welling in your eyes. they only strengthened when he started swatting your ass and digging his free hand into your back.

it hurt. like, actually hurt. but he wouldn’t listen.

he was never like this. chris? be aggressive? especially in such a vulnerable moment? never. until now.

after almost suffocating with your face in the pillow for what felt like hours, you tried to shift your face over just enough to be able to breathe. it was hard, with his grip on your hair pushing your head down into it.

eventually, you were able to properly breathe. you started breathing heavier and heavier. not from pleasure, but from overstimulation. from pain.

“i- i can’t! chris!”

he could barely hear you over his grunts and the sounds of skin slapping loudly.

“cant.. can’t what? slut can’t use her words now?”

you tried, but he was causing you so much pain that the tears were taking over. so much so, that you just broke.

what he thought were breaths and tears of pleasure started to settle in, and he finally realized. your pillow and face wet with a taste of salt, and your heart pounding so bad you started shaking.

he slowed down, moving your messy, wet hair out of your face.

“vanilla! vanilla!”

your safe word. you never needed it before, but you guys thought of it after having sex the first or second time. he always wanted you to know you were in control of what was happening too. in a sort of inside joke/mockery, he made it “vanilla”.

“hey- hey.”

he took a second to gather himself and pull out, sitting next to you on the bed. your body fell limp on the sheets.

“what’s wrong-“

“no!”

he tried to rub your shoulder, but your yelling frightened him. it should’ve. the way he caused you the pain he did was horrible.

“hey-“

“just- stop! what-“

your crying intensified, leaving him with a concerned look.

“what made you think that was okay?!”

you tried to stand, stabling yourself with a hand on the bed and the other holding a throw blanket to cover your body.

“what do you mean-“

“what do i mean? chris- you just.. started going crazy! it felt good at first, but you pulled my hair, you dug your nails into my back! you- you called me a slut!”

“i thought-“

“no you didn’t! you didn’t think at all!”

it finally hit him.

that word.

the one word he promised to never use.

“baby- i didn’t mean any of it!”

“then why’d you do it!”

tears turning into anger at his stupidity slowly dried up.

“i thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary! but, i’m sorry. i forgot about that word.”

that word was used against you everyday in highschool, ever since you gave some kid a handjob at the park. anytime you wore something even slightly revealing. it opened a floodgate for name-calling.

the tears started up again once silence filled the bedroom.

again, chris was never like this. you always thought he would provide the comfort you so desperately needed in your life. however, it seemed like he thought otherwise.

chris stood up, walked around the bed, and engulfed you in his arms. after realizing that he truly didn’t mean it (doesn’t make it okay, but it’s good he realized he was in the wrong), you hugged him back.

“how about we clean up. can i help you with that?”

you sniffled while stepping back from him. you dropped the blanket and wiped your eyes.

“yeah.”

you spoke softly, still trying to catch light breaths.

he grabbed your hand, leading you the bathroom.

he started the shower, grabbing your coconut body wash out of the bathroom closet along with a soft, white towel.

after getting you into the perfectly-warm shower, he started to clean you up. he didn’t let you move a muscle. he made sure you were fully clean and taken care of before even thinking about himself. he grazed your body with the loofah, making sure every inch was perfectly covered.

“i really am sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to take it that far. i think i just got too excited. i’ll never do it again, i can promise you that.”

“a warning would’ve been nice. i get why you did it. throw in a little variety, or whatever. but that word really set me off.”

“i know, i know.”

he kissed the back of your damp head, making sure you knew he meant his sorrow.

“i forgot. but, no excuse. how about now i dry you off and get you into some comfy clothes, hm?”

his tone was low but sweet. your heart stopped racing, your breath caught up, and your mind was at ease.

“okay.”

after he dried you off, still not letting you do it yourself, he grabbed your hand to lead back into the bedroom. while you were sat patiently on the edge of the bed, he rummaged through drawers and shelves looking for your favorite sleep shirt and a pair of under wear with comfortable shorts.

“this good?”

“yes. thank you.”

“stand up, please.”

you dropped your towel, letting him glide the extra large graphic tee over your head. you lifted each leg as he slid the underwear up, then doing the same with the loose shorts.

“get comfy in bed, i got some treats for you earlier.”

“really? thank you, chris.”

“anything for my girl. she deserves nothing but the best, so i try all for her.”

he kissed your forehead before you slid into the bed, pulling the thick comforter over your body and turning on your favorite show.

-

you fell asleep in eachothers arms, but not until he gave you a lengthy apology.

you know he didn’t mean it, but he needed you to remember he wouldn’t do it again.

his heartbeat under your head lulled you into a deep slumber. a soft, orange light coming from the lamp in the corner of the bedroom mixed with the tv still playing your favorite show made just enough light for you to not have any other worries that night. an open bag of the tastiest chocolate on the nightstand next to two open soda cans had filled your stomach and your heart. the soft laugh tracks in the background and fan lightly blowing on you gave you the comfort you needed.

the biggest comfort was chris’ concern.

he loves you.

you love him.

that’s all you need.

-

AHHHH ITS DONEEEEEEE!!!!! i pray that this is as good as y’all are expecting 😭😭 but seriously though, i thank y’all for the support. i’m at 300 followers already (WHAT THE FUCK) and i couldn’t have done it without you guys. love y’all!! mwah!!����❣️🌺

taglist: @sleepysturniolo @suyqa @jessie-essie @sturnsobsessed

sorry if i missed anyone that wanted to be tagged!!

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

ellie with a mean gf!

(prjoecting like a mf rn...)

a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!

content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .

i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...

------------------------------------------------------------

- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!

- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !

- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.

- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.

- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!

- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :

you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.

ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!

- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:

you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.

now she remembered.

she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.

you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.

she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)

- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.

- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .

you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.

"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"

you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.

"what?- what does this have to do with me-"

"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."

ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."

your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.

- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)

- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!

- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...

- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.

whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.

"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.

you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."

she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.

- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.

- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!

- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.

she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.

"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

dude- i keep thinking about how the crew would react to reader just flirting with them randomly then cutting themselves off and just saying “WHAT WHO SAID THAT”

MAN THESE GEN Z PEOPLE—Crew Members x Reader who flirts with them and randomly yells WHO SAID THAT???

a/n: sorry guys, ik I've been late on this, especially sorry anon, this ask has been in there for WEEKS now. long story short, life happened. Im not graduating this year, my brain made me do not fun stuff which ended in me getting a concussion and being put on new meds. I chose the meds cuz it was either this or a trip down to the psych ward. tmi sorry lol. dw I'm back to writing tho.

warnings: none, goofy ahh fic

CURLY

He is one those himbos who is also kind of a country bumpkin so he's just confused above all else.

Whenever you flirt with him he is always smiling ear to ear.

"damn curly you're so hot, but i could still eat you without breaking a sweat–,

"awh y/n that's—

"WHO SAID THAT?????"

curly 404 has stopped working

he doesn't understand any gen z memes so he'll just stare at u like this: 😀?

JIMMY

annoyed. plain simple annoyed.

he is no better than curly, "memes are for people who have time for enjoyment". Ahh

He'll be grinning, being proud how you're skirting with him and then you go with that fuckass loud yell.

"jimmy you should let me borrow a kiss ;)".

"you know damn right, c'mere-

"WHO SAID THAT..WHO SAID THATTTTT?????".

Y/N WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Is annoyed for the rest of the day,

"this is why you don't get kisses you dork ass moron".

ANYA

Her heart just drops in her stomach whenever you yell that in her face😭

You've done it so many times yet she always somehow falls for it.

"Anya you're so sweet i could eat you up anytime".

"hehe y/n you're so–

"WHO SAID THATTTTT????"

she'll just drop on the spot 😭

SWANSEA

He has made you sign a literal written agreement that you will not be pulling off that stupid stunt any further.

Gets extremely fucking annoyed like you can see it on his face.

"lookin' damn fine swanbae ;)– WHO SAID THAT??????

"I am going to SMACK you kid".

Doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day

DAISUKE

You both compete with each other in order to see who can catch the other off guard the most in a day.

So the other crew members basically hear the disembodied yells of WHO SAID THAT throughout the day.

Swansea sometimes has to put you both on timeout when it gets out of control.

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART 14

paige x azzi

word count: 3.8k

A/N: This last chapter felt impossible to write 😭 genuinely had NO idea how to end this but here we are. I hope everyone enjoyed the series and I look forward to hearing what you thought about it 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

April 2023

Paige slumped off of Azzi, both of them slick with sweat and breathing heavily. Their chests rose and fell in unison, the only sound in the room their ragged breaths and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Azzi propped herself up on her elbow, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she leaned down to kiss Paige’s neck. Paige groaned, her voice muffled.

“Azzi, baby, I can’t,” she murmured, her words slow and heavy with exhaustion as she continued trying to catch her breath.

Azzi chuckled softly against her skin, the vibration of her laughter sending a shiver down Paige’s body. “Mmm, fine,” she teased, pressing one last lingering kiss just below Paige’s jaw before tugging the blanket over them both.

Ever since UConn’s loss in March Madness, Azzi had been relentless, channeling her endless energy into Paige in more ways than one now that she didn’t have to practice or play in a game every other day. Paige has been more than happy to meet her halfway, finding complete enjoyment in the urgency her girlfriend has had.

Paige laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re crazy,” she murmured.

Azzi tilted her head, smirking. “Oh? And what do you mean by that?”

Paige turned to look at her, amusement dancing in her tired eyes. “I mean, wasn’t seven rounds enough for you?”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, as if seriously considering the question. “Hmm… I don’t think it’ll ever be enough,” she admitted with a grin.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh again, her chest vibrating against Azzi’s. “Oh yeah?” she asked, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist and pulling her closer.

Azzi bit her lip, her eyes sparkling as she leaned in. “Mmm,” she murmured, the sound filled with a teasing hunger as their lips met in another kiss, this one deeper and slower, the kind that always left both of them wanting more.

As Paige’s hands began to roam, Azzi groaned, breaking the kiss and gently pushing Paige back. “You said you’re tired, so you need to get away from me ,” Azzi said, her voice breathy and slightly exasperated. “I can’t think straight when you’re around.”

With that, she gave Paige a firm push, sending her tumbling off the bed. Paige landed on her feet with a laugh, rubbing her arm as she stood up.

“Really?” Paige said, shaking her head with a grin. She grabbed a pair of sweats and a hoodie from the chair by her desk, tugging them on with a sigh.

Azzi, still sprawled in the middle of the bed, smiled at Paige as she continued laying on the pillows. Her brown eyes sparkled mischievously, though there was a softness there. She was laid on her stomach, her bare back exposed to the light of the room, the blanket draped over her lower half. Her hair was an untamed mess around the pillows, framing her face in a way that made Paige’s breath catch.

Paige stepped closer, leaning down until her lips hovered just above Azzi’s ear. “You’re so perfect baby,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe.

Azzi’s cheeks flushed instantly, the color deepening as she ducked her head, turning her face toward the wall in an attempt to hide her reaction.

“Stop,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.

Paige chuckled, brushing a soft kiss against Azzi’s shoulder. “Can’t help it, pretty,” she said, straightening up and walking toward the door.

Azzi propped herself up slightly, watching her with a curious look. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice still soft but curious now.

“Getting you some water,” Paige replied over her shoulder as she opened the door. She stepped out, closing it quietly behind her.

As Paige walked down the hall, she spotted Jana lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone. The second Jana looked up and saw her, her eyes narrowed.

She didn’t even have to say anything and Paige raised her hands defensively. “It wasn’t me.”

Jana snorted, setting her phone down. “You caused it, so you’re just as guilty.”

Paige smirked, shrugging casually. “Hey, you weren’t here when we started.”

Jana rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath about how impossible they were to live with as she grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. Paige laughed it off, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle before making her way back to the room.

When Paige walked back in the room, water bottle in hand, she saw Azzi sitting up in bed, her phone in one hand and her brows knitted in concern.

“What’s wrong?” Paige asked immediately, her tone shifting as she moved closer.

Azzi looked up, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Geno text me. He wants to meet.”

Paige frowned, handing Azzi the water bottle as she grabbed her own phone off the nightstand. “Did he say why?”

Azzi shook her head, twisting the cap off the water bottle and taking a sip. “No. Just that it’s important.”

Paige’s fingers tapped against her screen as she unlocked her phone. “Let me see if I got anything.” Her eyes scanned through her notifications, her stomach dropping when she spotted a text from Geno.

Geno: Need you for a meeting at 3. It’s important.

Paige raised an eyebrow, glancing at Azzi. “What time did he say your meeting is for?”

Azzi sighed, setting her phone down on the blanket. “Three.”

Paige exhaled slowly, holding up her phone. “He texted me the same thing…What do you think this is about?”

Azzi shrugged, though her expression betrayed her unease. “I don’t know. It’s weird that he didn’t say. He usually does. You think it’s about the team?”

Paige’s gaze flicked back to Azzi, the unease settling deeper in her chest knowing deep down what it was about. She chewed her bottom lip, her mind racing. “No, I don't think so. He’s being too ominous.”

Azzi tilted her head, her brows knitting tighter as her mind raced.”

Paige hesitated for a moment not wanting to stress Azzi out. She set her phone down on the nightstand. “It’s probably about us Az.”

Azzi froze, her water bottle halfway to her lips. Her eyes searched Paige’s for any hint of doubt or that it was a joke, but Paige was serious, her blue eyes a little too calm. “You really think so?” Azzi asked softly.

“I mean yeah... think about it,” Paige replied. “The timing, the fact that he text both of us to meet at the same time. He probably knows, Az.”

Azzi sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I guess it was bound to happen eventually.” She paused, her fingers tracing the edge of the blanket. “You think he’s going to be mad?”

Paige moved closer, taking Azzi’s hand and threading their fingers together. “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she admitted. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. And it’ll be fine.”

Azzi studied their intertwined hands for a moment, then looked back up at Paige. “You really think we’ll be okay?”

Paige looked at Azzi thoughtfully. “I do…If it is about us like I think, what do you wanna do?”

Azzi shrugged, her lips pressed into a tight line. “I guess we just tell him the truth. We’re not hiding, right?”

“Right,” Paige agreed, though her tone was tinged with hesitation. She leaned back against the headboard, her hand still resting on Azzi’s. “It just seems so... weird now. I mean, it feels like we’re kids who got caught doing something bad”

Azzi tilted her head, studying Paige’s expression. “Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”

“No,” Paige said firmly, turning to look at her. “No…not at all. I just—” She exhaled slowly, searching for the right words. “I’ve never felt this way about someone before, you know? Like... serious. Real. And the idea of someone trying to get in the way of that or being upset about it... it just makes me nervous.”

Azzi softened, her gaze warming as she shifted closer to Paige. “Serious, huh?” she teased gently, though her voice carried a hint of something deeper.

Paige smirked, nudging her shoulder. “You know what I mean, Az.”

Azzi nodded, her hand still playing with the edge of the blanket. “I do. And... I feel the same way, Paige.” Her voice grew quieter, more contemplative. “It’s not just that I love you. I need you in ways I can’t explain. You make me feel like I can be myself—like I’m enough.”

Paige’s heart swelled at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice, and she shifted to face her fully. “Az I can’t even... you don’t even realize what you’ve done for me. I was so lost before you. I didn’t even know it, but I was suffocating. Trying to meet everyone else’s expectations, trying to be this perfect version of myself that didn’t even exist... then you came along.”

Azzi’s lips parted, her brown eyes shining as Paige reached out, cupping her face gently.

“You reminded me how to breathe again,” Paige continued, her voice soft but steady. “You gave me a reason to believe in myself. And it’s not just love, Az. It’s more than that. You saved me from myself.”

Azzi leaned into Paige’s touch, blinking away the emotion threatening to spill over as she laughed softly. “You say I saved you, but... you saved me too Paige. I’ve always struggled with being comfortable in my own skin, fully understanding myself. But with you? I don’t have to try. You make me feel safe, like I can just be me. You help me understand myself and that’s something I didn’t even know I needed until I met you.”

Paige laughed softly, softening the room as her thumb brushed lightly over Azzi’s cheek. “Huh. I guess we’re pretty good for each other, aren’t we?”

Azzi chuckled softly, leaning her forehead against Paige’s. “Yeah, we are. Whatever Geno has to say, it doesn’t change anything. I’m all in this, Paige. No matter what.”

Paige nodded, her heart swelling. “Me too.”

…

Paige knocked lightly on Geno’s office door, her knuckles barely making a sound. A muffled “Come in” followed, and she pushed the door open, stepping inside first. Azzi trailed behind her, her fingers brushing Paige’s for the briefest moment before she let her hand fall to her side.

Geno sat at his desk, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his gaze landed on Azzi. However, when his eyes shifted to Paige, his expression turned more serious, though not unkind.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the two chairs across from his desk. Paige and Azzi settled into them, the room falling into a brief silence. Geno leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking between the two of them before landing squarely on Paige.

“I’m sure you’ve pieced together why you’re here,” he said, his voice calm but expectant.

Paige nodded, straightening up. “Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat.

Geno gestured toward her with a small wave of his hand. “Well? Go ahead chatty cathy.”

Paige laughed slightly before glancing at Azzi, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. Taking a breath, Paige began. “Um, yeah... we’re together.”

Geno’s eyes flicked to Azzi for confirmation. She met his gaze, her expression soft as she nodded.

There was a pause before Geno leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped in front of him on the desk. “Is this going to be something I need to worry about?”

“No,” Paige said quickly, her tone confident. As she straightened her posture more, exuding confidence .

Geno raised an eyebrow. “How long has this been going on?”

Paige hesitated for a moment, then cracked a small smile, tilting her head side to side. “Kinda depends on how specific you wanna get.”

Geno rolled his eyes, though the faintest chuckle escaped him. “You’re a pain in the ass, Bueckers. You know that?”

Paige’s grin widened, but she quickly sobered, her tone more serious now. “Alright sorry, Officially, a little over four months. Unofficially... more than a year.”

Geno blinked, his shock evident as his brows shot up. “A year?”

The incredulous look on his face made it hard for Paige not to laugh, but she bit it back, glancing at Azzi, whose lips twitched with amusement.

“Yes, sir,” Paige said.

Geno’s gaze softened as he turned to Azzi, his voice lowering slightly. “Is this something serious?”

“Yes,” Azzi replied without hesitation, her voice steady and sincere.

Geno studied Azzi for a moment, then nodded slowly, sitting back in his chair. His expression shifted, a mixture of thoughtfulness and acceptance crossing his face. “Alright,” he said, leaning back slightly. “What’s your plan going forward?”

Azzi spoke up before Paige could, her voice calm. “We’ve agreed to be private about it,” she said. “We don’t really want any unnecessary attention, especially with everything that’s already expected of both of us.”

Geno nodded at her words, his expression thoughtful. “That makes sense,” he said, his tone measured. “Alright. Well, there we have it then.”

Paige blinked, a little taken aback. “That’s it?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

Geno’s eyes flicked back to her, a hint of amusement glinting in them. “If this has been going on for more than a year and it hasn’t caused the team any problems, then I don’t see an issue. Anything other than that isn’t my business,” he said simply.

Paige opened her mouth to respond but stopped, clearly fighting the urge to smile. Geno noticed and couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “Get the hell out of my office Paige,” he said, his tone light but laced with humor.

Azzi’s lips twitched as she glanced at Paige, who was now grinning fully. “Thanks, gramps,” Paige said, standing and reaching a hand out to Azzi, who followed her lead.

As they walked toward the door, Geno’s voice stopped them. “Just one more thing.”

They turned back, both suddenly a little tense.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said, his tone serious but with an undercurrent of warmth for both of them.

Paige gave him a quick nod, her grin softening into something more genuine. “We won’t.”

Azzi added, “We promise.”

Geno gave them a small smile and waved them off. “Good. Now get out before I decide to start lecturing you.”

Paige chuckled, and with Azzi’s hand brushing hers, they left the office, both feeling much lighter than when they’d walked in.

…

The warm April breeze brushed against their faces as Paige and Azzi strolled back toward the dorms. After the weight of their conversation with Geno, they felt a sense of freedom, like they'd stepped into a different chapter together. Something more serious. Their hands intertwined naturally as they walked, but they didn’t need words to enjoy the peaceful moment.

Paige glanced at Azzi, her heart lifting at the easy smile tugging at Azzi’s lips. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Paige asked softly.

Azzi nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “Yeah, it does. Feels right.”

The campus buzzed quietly with activity around them—students spread out on picnic blankets, a few throwing frisbees on the lawn, and others walking to class or grabbing coffee. The backdrop felt almost surreal in its normalcy, a reminder that life moved on even after big decisions.

As they turned a corner, a group of younger girls, maybe high schoolers visiting the campus, came into view. Their energy was electric as they talked amongst themselves and took selfies near the university sign.

The group immediately perked up after noticing their presence, their voices bubbling with excitement. Paige and Azzi exchanged a quick glance, their fingers slipping apart discreetly but without tension.

“Oh my God, that’s Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd!” one of the girls squealed, clutching her friend’s arm.

“We’re huge fans!” another chimed in, practically bouncing on her toes.

Paige grinned, her natural charisma on full display. “Oh wow thank you. We appreciate it.”

The girls quickly surrounded them, their energy infectious. One of them, wearing a basketball hoodie, spoke up excitedly. “We’re from the DMV. We used to watch you two play against each other in high school! You were insane, both of you. Those games were always legendary.”

Paige laughed, the memory clearly sparking something in her. “Oh yeah, I used to kill her back then. Pretty sure my record against her is like 4-1.”

Azzi’s eyebrows shot up at this as she crossed her arms, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Excuse me? I seem to recall having two championships. How many do you have again…?”

The group erupted into laughter, and Paige’s face fell into mock annoyance. “Wowww, really? You just had to bring that up in front of them?”

“Just keeping it real,” Azzi replied, shrugging with exaggerated innocence.

Paige grumbled, rolling her eyes. “For the record, I would’ve had two if COVID didn’t happen. But sure, rub it in. Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.”

Azzi laughed, nudging her with her elbow. “Excuses, excuses.”

The girls were eating it up, clearly enjoying the banter. “You guys are hilarious,” one of them said. “It’s so cool seeing how close you are now after all that rivalry back then.”

Paige grinned, smiling softly at Azzi. “Yeah, well, some rivalries end better than others.”

They chatted with the group a little longer, answering questions about basketball, their favorite moments, and even tips for improving their game. Paige and Azzi posed for selfies with each of the girls, laughing and leaning into the camera.

“Alright, now let’s get a group picture,” Azzi said, motioning for the tallest of the girls to hold the phone for the photo.

“Say Big East Champs!” Paige teased, earning a round of giggles as they all struck their poses.

Afterward, Paige and Azzi signed some UConn gear and T-shirts, scrawling quick messages of encouragement beneath their names.

As the girls prepared to leave, one of them beamed up at Paige. “Thanks so much for taking the time. You guys are the best!”

“Anytime,” Paige said warmly. “Good luck with your games—and remember, defense wins championships.”

Azzi added, “And don’t let Paige fool you. A good jump shot doesn’t hurt, either.”

The younger girls waved goodbye, their voices still excited as they walked away.

Paige and Azzi’s hands found each other again as they resumed their walk, and Azzi leaned closer, her voice low. “You’re lucky I like you enough to put up with sneaky hand-holding.”

Paige shook her head with a grin as they resumed their walk. “Two championships,” she muttered under her breath. “Unbelievable.”

Azzi laughed. “It’s ok you’ll always be number one in my book, baby. Mostly because I let you, but still.”

Paige stopped mid-step, her jaw dropping. “You let me?” she repeated, incredulous.

Azzi smirked, her voice playful but clearly confident. “Yes, I let you. You know I’m better than you.”

Paige blinked at her, her expression shifting into a mix of disbelief. “That’s complete bullshit, Azzi.”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s really not. Deep down, you know the truth.”

“Oh, absolutely not!” Paige shot back, already turning them around. With a firm grip on Azzi’s hand, she began pulling her back toward the gym they’d just left.

“Paige, seriously?” Azzi laughed, stumbling slightly to keep up.

“You can’t just walk away after saying something like that!” Paige said, her voice rising with mock outrage. “We’re settling this right now!”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head but following willingly. “If you say so. Don’t cry when I beat you, though.”

…

As the two settled on the court after grabbing shoes and clothes from their lockers, Azzi casually dribbled the ball between her legs, a teasing smile on her face. “So, what are we starting with? Shooting?”

Paige leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her confidence practically radiating. “No point. I’m definitely better at that.”

Azzi stopped dribbling, tilting her head at Paige with an exaggerated look of disbelief. “Paige, you know I’m a better shooter.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “Better shooter than who?”

Azzi grinned, not missing a beat. “Than you.”

Paige scoffed, pushing off the wall. “Alright, fine. Around the world. Five shots at each spot. You go first.”

Azzi didn’t argue. She just spun the ball in her hands and walked confidently to the corner three. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Bueckers.”

“Hope you’ve been practicing, Fudd,” Paige fired back, folding her arms as she watched Azzi lineup her first shot.

Up in his office, Geno glanced out his window, noticing the two players back on the court. Shaking his head, he chuckled to himself. “Didn’t I just send them out of here?” he muttered, amused by the sight.

Back on the floor, the game began. Azzi swished her first shot, earning a mock groan from Paige. “Lucky,” Paige called out, though her tone was more playful than annoyed.

“Call it what you want,” Azzi replied, hitting the second shot with the same precision.

As the game progressed, the gym filled with their regular banter and laughter. Paige’s competitiveness flared every time Azzi’s shot went in and Azzi’s smirk only grew as she continued to shoot.

It reminded them both of their first time shooting silently back in the DMV, when their relationship was purely about knowing one another from basketball. But this time, the air was much lighter, charged not just with competition but the connection they shared now.

“You’re quiet, P. Getting nervous?” Azzi teased, lining up for the top-of-the-key three.

Paige rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m just letting you have your moment. It won’t last.”

“Uh-huh. We’ll see.” Azzi swished the shot effortlessly, turning back to Paige with a wink

Paige shook her head, grabbing the ball and interrupted Azzi’s shooting for a second. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now as she held Azzi’s gaze, “I wouldn’t have had this any other way.”

Azzi smiled, standing casually on the three-point line as she watched Paige. “Have that? Losing to me?”

Paige laughed, the sound echoing in the gym. “No, Az. UConn. You. All of it.”

For a moment, the teasing faded, leaving just the two of them—two years into their journey, with two more ahead, and a lifetime of memories to make.

Azzi walked over, resting her hand on Paige’s arm, her expression softening. “Same here,” she said quietly. “Every bit of it.”

Paige grinned, stepping back to pass Azzi the ball to take another shot, the rhythm of the game carrying them forward. As the ball swished through the net, they both laughed, the sound carrying up to Geno’s office as he watched them silently.

Paige and Azzi continued their playful game, their banter filling the space with an unmistakable joy. It wasn’t just about basketball for them anymore—it was about everything they’d built together, the memories they’d made, and the future still waiting for them.

Even as they fought to outshoot one another, they knew they’d already won in the ways that mattered most and they both couldn’t wait to see what else their time together brought their way.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

i’m going a teensy bit feral reading your adam x third spouse story so i guess im just asking for part five and for it to hopefully have focus on dad beat dad and how lucifer would react to seeing the reader again after so long and like what would happen n stuff 🤭🤭 ofc if this is dumb ignore it i like what you’re doing with the story already !! the part im most excited for is the finale tbh but there’s a lot of time in between what you have rn and then so i’m just yapping abt stuff that could be cool in between. thsi is so jumbled omg sorry i just wanna see more of your writing it’s so good

idk how to end this uhh i love you bye 🫡

Benefit of the doubt PT.5

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: GN! Reader, confronting the past, next to no Adam (I know, sad, but it’s for the plot), Reader focused chapter, this is set during ‘Dad Beat Dad’, swearing, the next 2 chapters will have a LOT more Adam DW ❤️❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Request Box: OPEN

Word count: 4322

A/n: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support on all the other chapters. It’s been 8-ish months since the last update and for that I want to apologize. I’ll save it for its own dedicated post to not full int his page too much. But if you’ve saw one of my post from the other day, I have posted this on A03 and I’m giving myself 8 total parts. 7 will be the finale and 8 will be an epilogue styled thing (not even sure if I’m wanting to do it so when we get there, you guys can tell me if you want it!! ) so yeah, enough rambling, you’ve all been waiting so long for the next part so here you go!! <3

Reblogs are VERY appreciated!

(My posts have been flopping so much, I would love you forever if you did 😭)

Old memories have a habit of slithering their way back into a person's mind, and even sometimes, people

The first few months at fhe hotel were a lot more enjoyable than you originally expected. Most days went relatively the same, Charlie would choose an activity to do and you would observe the progress they made.

At first, progress hadn't shown much promise but as everyone grew closer, things began to look up. Angel had gone clean with his drug abuse and was distancing himself from his line of work. Sir Pentious started to actually trust the people around him and has done no major constructional damage to any buildings as of late.

Everything was going so smoothly that, when you had woken up one morning to the sounds of screaming, running, and just general chaos. You thought everything was finaly going into the ground.

You quickly run down to the lobby, thoughts of what could be happening run through you. Did one of Pentious experiments fail and explode? Were we being attacked by one of the many gangs in town? Did Alastor decide the hotel was actually boring and started destroying it, starting with the occupants? Whatever it was, you hurry faster to the lobby.

But what was meeting you there was… unexpected to say the least. Party streamers, banners, cookies. It looked like some kind of welcome party heaven would do, albeit with less flare and taste in decor. A banner that read ‘Wellcum Daddy’ was being hung up by Razzle and Dazzle, everyone was either cleaning or baking something, and Vaggie seemed to be ordering them around.

You look at the clock, huh, it’s way too early for any kind of Charlie’s trust exercises. Not to mention, she would have told you about the curriculum and there was absolutely not a 10 AM home-EC class listed on your schedule.

You quickly run up to Charlie who seemed to be preoccupied with helping Vaggie put something up “Charlie, what’s going on?” You tap on her shoulder, She jumps a bit before just realizing it’s you,

”Oh- Y/N, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to get you!” She apologizes when Vaggie pops in,

“Don’t be, I told Nifty to go wake you up, but looks like she had better things to do” she points over at Niffty swifty stabbing bugs and removing cobwebs out of habit

“It’s fine, just… what’s everyone doing, what’s with all the party supplies and sweets?” You say, arms to the festive lobby around you.

“Oh well…” she took a deep breath “you know that The deadline is fast approaching and while we’ve made progress it’s not much” she paused, trying to even brace herself for what’s coming out of her mouth, “I have asked… my dad to come over and hopefully get us a meeting with heaven” she stops, completely caved in on herself.

“Wait, so… your dad is coming here?” you thought about the times she had asked you to get them a meeting with heaven but you had already explained to her that it would be next to impossible for someone like you. You had to practically beg just to monitor the hotel

Charlie Picked herself back up and looked at you with a shakey demeanor, “Yeah In about… 55 minutes”

You blink a few times before giving a small chuckle “Well, would you look at the date! I think it’s time I used my 1-per-month trip back home! If you’ll excuse me-“

“Wait! No-“ she trips over herself “We need you here, if dad can see, not only the progress we’ve made, but also that we already have an angel supporter, there’s no way he could say no!”

“Charlie, I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“PleasePleasePlease! I will pay you back, promise! But I- we could really use you there!” Her eyes looked at you, similar to a puppy. She hands clasped together In plea.

You looked away in thought. Seeing him again was the last thing you wanted to do at this moment, any moment for that matter. The last time…well to be honest, the whole exchange hadn’t meant anything to you in quite a while. He could say whatever he wanted about you… it was the words he had to say about Adam that kept your heart ablaze in anger at the Morningstar.

Trash? He should really look in the mirror before saying that about your Adam. But… this could be a good opportunity for the hotel -as much as it pained you to admit- You can only sigh, “fine.. for the hotel…” You let out a small chuckle raising your arm in defeat.

Charlie jumped up and down with glee, repeating a matra of ‘Thank You’s’ before continuing “I get it might be difficult since you’re an Angel.” She tries to give some comfort. But that caught your attention.

“Because I’m an Angel?” You honestly didn’t mean to say it out loud but it came out as a question.

She looks at you confused “yeah, you know, considering I don’t think angels have too kind of thoughts to my dad for being… the devil” she laughs nervously

Oh. Oh. So that’s what she means. So she doesn’t know about your past with him? Not too much a surprise, I doubt Lucifer would bring up any of his failures. But that also made you realize one other thing. Charlie doesn’t know about your marriage with Adam.

Look, you didn’t mean to keep it a secret. In fact you had already assumed they knew. I mean you were sitting literally right next to him and Vaggie already knew who you were. You just thought she would have told Charlie, but knowing this now… it may be best to keep it a secret.

You let out a quick “I understand.” and with that, you all went your separate ways, you did contribute to the decor the best you could, as well as helping Sir Pentious and Nifty with the baking until finally, it was time for Charlie’s dad to arrive.

You walked over to a more remote place in the hotel lobby, look… you may have to interact with him today but you will not be doing it that soon. Instead, you decided your best choice of action was to sit and watch quietly until Charlie decided it was time for you two to meet. And in the meantime, you can mentally brace yourself.

Charlie sighs deeply “Okay everybody, it’s showtime!”

With that she swings the door open revealing the one, the only (thank Father) king of hell himself, Lucifer. Immediately Lucifer pulls his, obviously nervous daughter into his arms. He greets her with excitement before moving on to Keekee, and eventually Razzle and Dazzle.

He eyes the room, clearly covering up any distain for the hotels “character” to protect Charlie’s feelings. At least until he got to the bar which even he couldn’t lie his way through.

Even from the distant view you were from, you could see Alastor and Lucifer weren't going to be the best of buds anytime soon. As soon as they were introduced to one another they immediately got into it. Huh, at least now you have something in common with Alastor at least! If that’s even a good thing.

Their quarrel lasted a few minutes, everyone either waiting for it to be over, completely ignoring it, or enjoying it as entertainment. It lasted what felt like an eternity and was only interrupted when a short and plump woman by the name of ‘Mimzy’ came into the scene.

The old time-y dressed woman was one of Alastor’s friends, you honestly didn’t think he had those but you digress. Eventually once the commotion dies down, you see Charlie give you a nervous smile and wave for you, ‘that’s my cue’ you thought. Anxiety still felt taught in your heart but still you pushed through.

You walk out of your hiding spot, walking up to be next to Charlie. Still trying to keep your presence hidden for as long as you could, savoring those last few moments of peace before a wave of interactions.

Charlie clears her throat and puts on a more professional demeanor despite her nervousness, getting the attention from her dad, “And last but certainly not least, i’d like you to meet our Angelic sponsor-“

“Y/N!?-“ the fallen Angel suddenly started coughing, clearly having choked on his own words. He clears his throat “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting… you to be here” he lets out a chuckle.

“You guys know each other!?” Charlie looked shocked, her voice pitching up in bewilderment.

“We’ve… met before,.” Your voice was low, But still you pushed through “Though, it’s hardly relevant to anything of importance now. Isn’t that right, Morningstar?”

Lucifer's face contorted into an uncomfortable shaky smile, fingertips digging into his Apple-shaped cane. Perhaps he felt some type of remorse for the way things happened back all those years ago, but even if that’s true, you had no plans to forgive him.

He clears his throat “Yes it’s- unimportant Sweetie.. “

You 3 stand in awkward silence for a moment, all you can do is glare daggers at the short ex-Angel in front of you. Eventually though, you couldn’t stand the scilence any longer, “Well Charlie, I have to get something done in my room and I’ll be back to help with the tour in a few minutes, if that’s ok?”

Charlie looked like she wanted to protest, for you to stay with her through the tour, but she knew you wouldn’t just leave and not come back. “Um, yeah that’s fine! Me and Alastor can get the tour started and you can meet us around the 4th floor?”

You gave a quick nod as agreement and make your way to your room. Sighing, you flop down on your bed, feeling the soft warmth as you sink into comfort. Pulling out your phone, you quickly typing a text to Adam but your thumb simply hovered over the send button, anxiety washing over you. Your message was simple,

‘I promise that everything’s ok, but he’s here’’

You were hesitating, should you even tell him that he's here? You didn’t want to worry him over something so insignificant. He has a show tonight, he wouldn’t be at his best if he was constantly thinking you would be in the same room as the devil.

Or even worse, he could just cancel the show completely and march down here and a cause a ruckus which at best would completely destroy the Hotel’s plans and at worse… No, you can’t think of that.

You look at the message again before just setting your phone on your nightstand. 10 minutes… that’s all you need before you go back out there…

…Lucifer was having… let’s just say a tinsy bit of a bad day. Not only has he been forced to interact with that insufferable yellow-toothed sinner but also, he has been reunited with someone he hadn’t seen in a millenia, you.

The anxiety of the day was only topped off with the added stress of being with his daughter. Don’t get him wrong, he LOVES his daughter and is always happy to see her, but the way she talks and acts with these sinners… Ugh, it reminds him too much of himself back in the day.

Her hotel too… He may have given her the place but he never gave it much thought beyond it being a pipe dream for her. He was just trying to do something for his daughter, especially with… Lilith being out of the picture. He just wanted to cheer her up, and unfortunately it seems ‘grandiose plans’ run in the family.

Even now as Charlie and that Red haired Buck show him around, Charlie explains excitedly about different things they have at the hotel. It reminds Lucifer about how she was when she was little, that glow of joy never seemed to fade away from her despite the conditions she lives in.

But even still, as much as he’s trying not to zone out and actually listen to his daughters rambles, his mind keeps trailing back to one, singular thought. You.

What were you doing here? He knows you were there to ‘support the hotel’ as Charlie puts it. But this is the absolute first he’s hearing about it. Why wouldn’t heaven tell him that another Angel was down here, let alone, you most of all. The last time he saw you was… not the best first meeting

Were you here in secret? You clearly weren't fallen, considering you still had your halo and you didn’t look like you’ve been damaged anywhere close to what you’d be if you had fallen. Not to mention… Adam, the exterminations were his idea so why would you even consider an alternative when you are his-

“Uh, Dad?” Charlie interrupted Lucifer’s thoughts, a look of worry on her face. ”You’ve got a little bit of… horn? Sticking out”

Lucifer looks up and sees that he’s subconsciously beginning to phase into his full demon form. He quickly takes his hand and pats the horns as if he was just dusting off his coat, causing the horns to seem to fade away like dust. Wow, today really seems to be getting to him.

“Ah sorry Sweetie, it’s nothing just… uh..” He thinks for a moment, he has to talk to you alone, just for a second. “*Ahem* I was just realizing I had to… use the bathroom, I seem to have had one too many drinks on the way here. Can you tell me where the… bathroom is?” He lets out a chuckle to hopefully cover his lie.

“Oh, it’s just down the hall and to the right, I can take you there-“

Lucifer quickly lets out a loud ”No!“ Before clearing his through again “I can get there on my own, just wait here and I’ll be back!”

Before Charlie can even answer, Lucifer rushes through the halls of the hotel, yelling a ‘I’ll be back soon’ to his Daughter before turning the corner. He lets out a deep breath as he lays out the plan in his head. Figure out why you’re here, and get back to Charlie as fast as inhumanly possible.

Picking his feet up again, he makes his way to the lobby of the hotel, he looks around for a moment before spotting the check in desk. ‘They usually keep visitor information there, right?’

He quickly scours the desk, looking for any forms or documents that have your room number, before finally setting his eyes on your room number. It didn’t take long to find you seeing as there were such few occupants in the hotel.

He memorized your room and repeated it to himself while walking to your door. Past the first, 2nd, then finally, halfway through the hallway on the 3rd floor he finds it. Before he can knock, a sudden wave of worry floods his senses. Seriously, Why would he hesitate now?!

He shuffled around nervously, starting to doubt this little mission of his. Should he really be doing this? Is he really worried about you being here or is the real reason he came here because he wanted to… apologize to you? It’s true that the guilt of what happened all those years ago was still there. But… Digging up old memories just because he’s selfish and wants to apologize to you? He takes a deep breath.

He had to make things better or… at least get some things off his chest. So, with a heavy fist and an even heavier heart, he gently knocks on the hard wooden door…

This had been the longest 10 minutes of your life, trying to decide wether to send Adam the message, or to even return to tour with Charlie at all. As much as it pains you to say, you still become anxiety ridden when he’s in the room or even the mere mention of him. That spark of defiance you had in the lobby earlier being nothing but a small bit of courage. But you remembered that you had promised Charlie you’d be there for her, and you certainly weren’t one to take back a promise.

Before you could decide what to do, you hear an ever so faint knock on your door. Curiosity peaked, You thought Charlie was supposed to be waiting for you on the 4th floor? Had you taken too long and the tour went south? You quickly made your way to the door and hoped you wouldn’t see a very angry Charlie on the other side.

As the wooden-door creaked open, your face slowly turned bitter at The short, impish man who stood on the other side. Lucifer Morningstar. To be honest, you much would have preferred the angry Charlie, TWO very angry Charlies over this.

The man shuffled awkwardly in place, gripping his cane. Neither of you could break the silence . He avoided any eye-contact with you and even you couldn’t hide The disgusted expression on your face when looking at him. Finally after what feels like 3x the eternity you’ve lived thus far, you spoke In shaky words, ”What do you want?”

Lucifer pushed out his words as well as he could, meek they were, but you understood what he said “Can we please…talk?”

Your fingers gripped at the door, nails embedding into the wood, leaving scratches. It took all you had not to slam the door right in his face, but even if you had, it wouldn’t have solved any pressing issues. If anything, it might make him against Charlie’s idea with the hotel, which you couldn’t afford. You take a deep breath before letting out a quick but unsavory,

“5 minutes”

The short demon shuffles his way into the room as you follow in behind him, locking the door to prevent someone like Nifty or Charlie from walking in. Lucifer stands timidly by your nightstand as you stand on the complete opposite side of the room, facing him. Lucifer runs his neck as he lets out a shaky sigh “I just want to know what you’re doing here…” he pauses, he looks like he has more to say but decided not to.

You can only laugh to yourself “I’m here because I believe I think Charlie’s idea has potential to be great. The exterminations, they have to end… that’s why I’m here”

Lucifer seem a bit… surprised? Surprised with your stance on the exterminations. you figured he needed more than that so you continue “I… I’ve never been one for the exterminations. I've been against them from the start. I just didn't know what else to do. Nothing else seemed…right.“

He stayed silent, processing what you told him. He really didn’t understand you, he had a completely warped view of you. “If that’s all you wanted to know I’d rather you take your leave-“

“No!” You step back at the sudden raise in voice but he quickly clears his throat “No, there’s another thing. I would… I’d like to apologize to you about how things went… when we first met.”

You stared at him, the silence once again feeling the air. You didn’t dare break it, you watched as the impish man looked around with anxiety, trying to find the right words. “It’s always been there, in the back of my mind. How we- I, treated you. It was unacceptable… Lilith kept telling me to let it go, that she was done thinking about it, but I just couldn’t.” He takes a deep breath “so, I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/n…”

Lucifer Morningstar. The man in front of you looked more akin to a puddle than a person at this point. Sweat dripped from his face, a scrunched mouth filled with a sour taste. He wasn’t looking at you, focusing his attention to the ground. Finally, after many long seconds later. You step forward, grabbing his attention.

“As much as I appreciate the apology, I don’t forgive you.” Lucifer began to speak or at least say he understood but no matter what his reaction was going to be, you interrupted him ‘“-I don’t forgive you, because I’m not the one who deserves it”

To that, Lucifer's head was struck with confusion, “what do you mean?” He tried to make sense of your words, shifting eyes looking around in unease before landing on a framed photo of a candlelit man, an old and forgotten, yet familiar smile on his face… ”You mean… Adam?” Despite his best efforts around you, saying the first man’s name still dripped his words with venom. That same sour taste filling his mouth at the mere mention of him. ”What does-” he stops himself, he knows why.

You breathe in slowly, “What you said to me, all of those years ago, hasn’t meant anything to me in a long time. I’ve gotten through it 10x over and finally understand that I am more than those words” you take another step towards him, closing the gap, “so… there's no use for your apology to me. But Adam… you’ve hurt him more than you couldn’t possibly imagine“

The room was filled with dense air, like any sudden move could kill the king of hell or even you at any second but still you continue. “Adam deserved so much better than what he was forced to have from you, so if anyone deserves your apology, it’s him.” He goes to speak but you shut him down again “but we all know that you are too prideful to do so, and Adam… he’s too stubborn to hear it”

You don’t yell, scream, all of your words coming soft from your lips “So… what you’re going to do, if you truly mean what you say. You will go back to your daughter, forget this conversation ever happened, then you can march back to your big castle with your Loving wife, and leave us be, for the rest of eternity.”

With that, you step away from him, words that have been bubbling inside you for centuries finally having been let out. It felt like several hundred pounds had been lifted off of you. You begin to walk to the door to let him out, wanting the conversation to be over, When you hear him speak a faint ”Ex-Wife actually”

You pause, your teeth already biting your tongue. Honestly, if you really thought about it, it was poetic. The Angel who ruined two marriages, leaving Adam nothing but a broken heart and baggage, ended up with a failed marriage himself.

But even still, you still felt a slight pain of pity for him. Through clenched teeth you let out ”I'm… sorry to hear that. It must be hard.”

This kind of thing, no matter the person, is always tough. You knew the aftermath of it through Adam, even now he struggles with so many issues from it. In that regard, you felt pity for the ruler of hell, but the rest of you felt… glad? Glad that he finally understands just a thorn of the pain he inflicted on Adam.

“The 5 minutes are up so… go now… please.” Your voice shakes near the end, your will power for everything you’ve done starting to break. Lucifer looked equally as defeated, you could tell he wanted to say more but he just nodded his head before walking out the door. slowly, silently, you close the door back before sliding down it as your legs give out.

You wanted to cry, scream, do anything but sit there, but you couldn’t. Your voice hurts from talking, your feet hurt from standing, everything just… hurts.

DING DING DING

A luminous yellow light follows the sound, you lifted your head and saw your phone on your nightstand. Adam… You used all of your strength to make it to your bed, practically having to crawl to avoid any more tiredness in your aching body. You finally land on the soft mattress to pick up your phone, seeing the plethora of messages from Adam.

DIXKMASTER69

Yo Bitch, everything good??

You’ve been typing for like 10 minutes

Answer me

Hellllloooooo??????

Oh, that’s why he was texting. You had completely forgotten your half written message you were debating on sending earlier. You start to delete it and rewrite it when suddenly,

INCOMING CALL FROM DIXKMASTER69

You sigh at the screen, your phone vibration sends chills through your aching arms, it acts as a lifeline for you not to fall asleep on the soft plush beneath you. You press the answer button.

‘Fuck Babe, finally! Are you ok?!” Adam’s voice sounded angry but you know he was just worried “you’ve been texting for like 15 minutes”

“Yeah, don’t worry Adam, I... must have fallen asleep while trying to message you”

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, you dont normally fall asleep in the middle of the day” Adam questions, his voice having obvious worry for you.

“Today’s just been very tiring. But I promise I’m fine, it’s just happened a lot today.” You hated lying to him, your other half, but you know this is something that he shouldn’t have to worry about.

You hear him groan, “how many times do I have to fuckin’ tell you not to overwork yourself for those sinners”

“I know, I’m sorry” you pause “I… I have to go now but I promise I’ll call you later, yeah?“

He was quiet on the other side before he lets out “Yeah, just don’t overdo yourself ok?” His voice was soft, no hint of sarcasm or anger, just him.

You let out a small breathy laugh “I promise. Have fun at your show tonight. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too”

CLICK

You sigh to yourself, you still have the tour to do. It’s fine, everything is fine.

Tomorrow will be a better day. it has to be.

-

TAGLIST: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn

@ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che

@edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee @pandaquick @white-00-7 @call-me-nyx @adamstruelove @jennieyeager @sillyycatt @solatiium @my-name-is-heartache @parisiterileymoon @titan-senpai @lovely-night-owl-86 @innergardentoadpony @animefan106sposts @starlightstarbrightmyfirststar @lovkayy @ilikedrinkingsoda @barrythestrawberry041 @deadpoolssweetchimi @asegirllovesreadingporn @ripashy @deleted-1-800 @sirenetheblogger @ur1nonlygabi @aweleyirene @n0tmentallystable

(I really hope I didn’t forget anyone if I did, just asked to be added in the comments!!)

Shoutout to these specific asked as well, love you all <3

[mysteriousrainsworld]

a moonlit night

pairing: bf! seonghwa x gf! reader

genre: fluff, slice of life

summary: the night has always been the most enjoyable time of day for you. with seonghwa in your life, he helps you make the most out of that time.

word count: 1.5k (1,586)

warnings: reader experiences minor anxiety, foodie bf! seonghwa (?), one sentence about worrying about money, they’re rlly in love it scares me 😦, kissing, pet names: baby, my love (i think that’s it)

author’s note: wowowow i had this idea straight after writing about yunho but never had the motivation to write 😭😭 this didn’t come out as naturally as i wanted it to and does flow a bit faster but i still like the events of the (very mini) story. i also just ended up including some of my favourite aesthetics together (moon, stars, rain and ofc seonghwa), hope you enjoy! as always, ignore any grammatical errors 🤓 and leave some feedback 😋

“are you ready, baby?”

as seonghwa lifts his head up from his phone to look at you, he can’t help but smirk.

“are you travelling far, miss? a long journey on the road?”

you stare with wide eyes and a pout on your face. your handbag was filled to the brim with the zipper barely closing and the backpack you had prepared for seonghwa to hold was threatening to burst.

“i just thought it would be good to pack a few essentials. we don’t know what we’ll need,” you decide to place the bags on the floor whilst seonghwa revels in the situation.

“damn, baby, you’re worse than me. there’s convenience stores nearby if we ever need something. they’re open 24/7,” he bends down to grab the backpack and opens it up to check the contents.

“no! don’t do th- ugh, now it won’t close.”

he stares at you with a deadpan expression. “we don’t need these,” he says as he holds up the now squished jam sandwiches you had made in case you guys got hungry.

“and how would you know?” you ask as you fold your arms in defiance.

“because, baby, i think we’d rather have a proper meal for our late dinner than a few sandwiches, especially when we’ll be staying up for a while.”

seonghwa looks at you knowingly and you sigh. you both had woken up late that day and had eaten your meals later than your usual timings so that you could enjoy a night picnic with the moon bathing you in its light.

you had always preferred the night, finding comfort in the darkness rather than the blinding light of the day. it was your only solace as the world became too much to deal with. at night, you had the freedom to do whatever you wanted but since you were always alone, it just meant you could do whatever you wanted within the confines of your home.

that changed when you met seonghwa. you never thought you’d meet someone up for an adventure in the dead of night. the excitement of these outings always left you waiting for the next one, where you could escape from the world with seonghwa by your side, keeping you safe and happy.

“i’ll put the sandwiches in the fridge,” you reply, knowing he’d keep you well fed better than what you had hurriedly made.

the drive didn’t take long to the picnic area with your shared playlist filling up the comfortable silence as seonghwa drove.

when you arrive, the bright lights from the convenience store catches your eye and you stare at the building.

“whoa, that’s huge.”

“yep.” seonghwa pulls up into a parking spot and takes the key out of the ignition. “you see now why we didn’t need all that stuff?”

“i just didn’t want us to spend so much money,” you murmur dejectedly, looking down at your lap.

seonghwa gently lifts your chin to look into your eyes, “baby, i got us.”

with his reassurance, you both get out of the car with your bags in tow and enter the store.

it was probably a good idea seonghwa made you empty more than half the things you packed because this man was on a mission to rid the store of all its delicacies. you let him go on a rampage whilst you pick out a few flavoured drinks for the both of you to enjoy.

when you meet up near the self-checkout, you notice the basket overflowing. “don’t you think you’ve gone overboard this time?”

“actually, i don’t. we both know that three quarters of this just about counts as a meal for me.” you roll your eyes but can’t help smiling at your foodie boyfriend. “come on,” he says, speedily scanning the items, “i’m starving.”

with your supposed meal(s), you follow seonghwa to an open field. when he had deemed a spot good enough, you place the picnic blanket on the grass and seonghwa arranges the food.

the silence engulfs the air. you keep looking behind you or over seonghwa’s shoulder, anxiety starting to creep into your veins. then you hear a tune playing beside your feet: seonghwa’s phone playing music. you look at his face and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

“you’re alright. it’s just us.”

you stare into seonghwa’s eyes as if they hold all the answers to your problems, guiding you to the present with him. you slowly smile, grateful for his presence but growing shy under his gaze. you open your mouth to speak but the only sound heard was the rumble of seonghwa’s stomach. he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights and then you both burst out laughing.

“you really weren’t kidding about being hungry. let’s eat.”

“good idea.”

with the music in the background, the sound of wrappers breaking and bottles opening add to the harmony of peace you created for yourselves. once you both couldn’t eat anymore, you decide to lay next to each other, letting the moonlight cast a veil over your bodies to protect you.

seonghwa’s fingers link through yours, your touch keeping him grounded in the moment, basking in your presence. it always surpirsed you how much seonghwa was affected by you the same way he affected you. and the fact that he never hid how you made him feel always left butterflies in your stomach.

he turns his face towards yours, lifting his other hand to brush your hair back. “i swear the moon left a piece of itself down here on earth and found its way to you.”

despite the chill in the air, you feel your cheeks heat up, wanting to turn away out of shyness but unable to do so with seonghwa’s thumb stroking your cheek.

“your beauty never fails to amaze me. your existence completes me. there’s not a day that goes by that i am not eternally grateful to have met you.” seonghwa lifts your joined hands and presses the back of your hand to his lips. “i love you.”

“seonghwa…” how is it he always manages to leave you breathless with his words alone?

as if breaking out of a trance, he looks back at the night sky. “it’s a shame there’s no stars out tonight.”

you look at him intently. “you’re wrong, seonghwa.”

he looks at you in confusion, his furrowed brows questioning you.

“we only need one star, and he’s right in front of me.”

it was seonghwa’s turn to be left speechless.

“i’m your moon and you’re my star. you embrace me in your warm light, never overbearing. i’m always thankful to have you by my side, shining your guidance on me. i hope you know, seonghwa, how much i love you.”

“i do, my love, i really do.”

seonghwa lifts himself up and leans over you, kissing you softly, slowly adding more fervour as he held on to you like you were his lifeline. the love you had for each other glowed through the crevices of your actions, silently telling the world how strong you were together.

after a few minutes which seemed to stretch out into a lifetime, seonghwa pulls away, helping you sit up so you both could catch your breaths.

your mind was racing, still not used to the affection seonghwa showered you with. “um, i think we should have digested our food before lying down.”

seonghwa heartily laughs at your random comment but immediately recovers and says to you seriously, “well, let’s do it now.” he gets up on his feet and holds out his hand to you.

you’re perplexed at what he has in mind but proceed to place your hand in his as he pulls you up. before you can register what he’s doing, he holds your hands up and places his free one around your waist, and starts swaying you both.

“seonghwa, wha-“

“shh.”

you go quiet and let him guide your movements. it seems like the music has gotten louder as you both keep moving, the moonlight shining a spotlight over your dancing figures. in this moment, it was only you and seonghwa, the moon and the star.

you become lost in the safety of his arms, falling into the world where only your love existed. you feel content, moving closer to seonghwa’s body. you look up at his face, admiring his sculptured features until you feel something wet land on your cheek.

seonghwa’s face falls and he stops your movements, placing a hand on his head. “right in the middle.”

“ah! mine too,” you exclaim, also placing a hand on your head.

the raindrops steadily fall down, warning that more would come so you and seonghwa wordlessly spring into action, collecting your belongings and packing everything up.

holding hands, you run to the parking lot, laughing at the absurdity of your reactions. once you reach the car, you place everything inside. as seonghwa closes the door to the boot and turns to go to the driver’s side, you grab his hand and pull him towards you.

“i wanna dance a bit more,” you plead, looking up at him with longing and a pout he could never resist.

he smiles gently. “of course, my love.”

you continue to bask in each other’s presence, moving to the rhythm of the rain, letting it wash away the worries of the world, calming your hearts.

the moon and the star embrace, covered by the rain, silently promising to love each other, always and forever.

[gatitties]

hi so can you do a fic where The straw hats thought we died but when they retuned to scabaody we also come back?

Like the straw hats are like

WAIT YOUR NOT DEAD? HUH

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Everything seems to fall apart before their eyes when you die, only to find out that you were enjoying yourself in Sabaody and not in your grave.

─Warnings: none

lmao this was fun to write for no reason 😭🤌🏻

The loss of a loved one is a difficult battle, everyone on this crew has experienced at least one death of a family member or someone close to them to call them family, they hoped that pain would not damage their hearts again, unfortunately, you shattered their hearts when they found your limp body on Sky Island when you decided to go your own way.

With their hearts in their throats and their eyes red, they had to say goodbye to you bitterly, burying your body in a cluster of soft clouds, they were silent for a minute until Luffy was the first to give the signal to leave, he knew you would have liked that they were not so sad and that their adventures had not yet ended like yours.

They lamented your lack of presence, you always made everything a little more enjoyable with your nonsense, you managed to fit in perfectly with each of them and although you were not the smartest, most cunning or powerful on the team, they did not expect your early departure.

It was when they arrived at Sabaody for the first time that they thought they were going crazy, thinking that they had gotten over your loss, someone strangely like you seemed to be hanging around that island.

Luffy could clearly see how you were riding some attractions, Nami was confused when she saw you trip over a huge root, Chopper thought that the smell of disinfectant had made him hallucinate and see you eating cotton candy, Usopp simply thought he saw a ghost, Brook thought you came back from the dead to exact revenge when he saw you beating up a couple of guys who seemed to bother you, Franky could only catch your laugh, but it was so similar that he thought his brain was playing tricks on him, Zoro and Sanji bumped into you, but neither you nor they were paying attention as something bigger was catching everyone's attention and practically everyone was jostling each other.

While, oblivious to all the suffering, pain and coping that your companions had to do, you woke up buried in clouds a while ago, managing to get down and reach Sabaody miraculously like a stowaway on another pirate ship, you had planned to look for them and scold them a little for thinking you were dead, but your plans were thwarted when you found the island too much interesting, well, you had been 'dead' for a while, it was okay if you enjoyed a little time at the attractions before looking for your companions.

The thing is that you got so distracted and forgot to find them, if it weren't for the fact that, coincidentally, Jinbe ─who you didn't know since you didn't get to know him─ recognized you from the brief conversations they had with him about you, he was waiting in the queue to buy something and you were just behind, you started a chat to kill time.

"You look terribly like a person who died in the crew I'm part of now, I mean, because of the descriptions they made."

"Oh…"

The blood on your face disappeared at his words, remembering now that you had a crew to return to, and that in fact you were that supposedly dead person, you laughed nervously, wanting to resume your search, although there was no need.

"Hey, Jinbe, here! We were looking for you."

You blinked like an owl as you saw Luffy greet him with his characteristic smile, calming down as you saw the others walking a little further behind calmly, you smiled fondly when you saw them, making eye contact for a second with your captain as you sipped the drink you had gotten before, he casually greeted you by saying your name and you waved back, focused on finishing your drink.

"Wait a moment, you…" he narrowed his eyes looking at you again, drawing the attention of the others "Are you the twin of our dead comrade!?"

You choked on your own drink, Chopper patting you on the back.

"No uh- in fact it's me, the original, only and loved-"

"WEREN'T YOU DEAD!?"

You covered your ears when you heard Nami's scream, your tongue went dry and your body seemed to get smaller when you saw her gaze, everyone had different emotions reflected ─Luffy and Zoro were still a little confused because they really thought you have a twin─ but Nami was the most furious, she started hitting and pushing you.

"GIVE ME BACK THE TEARS I SHED FOR YOU!"

"AW, OH, SORRY!? YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!"

You ran in circles avoiding the navigator, protecting your head from her light blows while you apologized for not having warned that you 'rose from the dead'.

"Well, who knows, maybe it's a zombie."

"Robin, you're not helping me."

You whimpered, hiding behind Sanji and Franky, waiting for Nami to calm down, it wasn't a reunion like you planned ─you didn't plan anything─ but everyone felt a little relieved, leaving behind the bitterness of losing a partner and enjoying your company now that you were with them again.

[valyrfia]

i don't really know how 1633s who are mainly rooting for charles do it 😭 i respect it though. i enjoy them both, and i was a hardcore 1633 a few years ago but as the year pass unfortunately that has tempered a little, and i think i let the bitterness get to me a bit. this isn't to say that i don't like max, i still very much do, i still think he's talented and deserve all the praise he is getting, but every time i see him in conversations for "the all time greats" i just think about how so far the conversation charles is in so far would be "top drivers to not win a championship" (adding "yet" to that, i don't like how definitive these conversations can be).

i think about how max's manager said in 2022 that charles is just as talented as Max it's just that he never got the car to stand a chance. when he said that, max only had one championship but now he's fighting for a fifth and we haven't had a consistent title fight between them yet. i also think about when max said he wasn't sure if he couldve won a championship in that ferrari given how "fragile they were" while he confidently said he would win in the mclaren. Just a lot of thoughts about everything tbh.

a lot of max fans are quick to write charles off, forgetting that he hasn't even stood a chance yet. it's just a bit sad, is all.

now people still say charles is the only one (most of the time anyway) who doesn't let himself get bullied by max and has shown that max can be beaten in wheel to wheel. i used to be filled with pride at that but now it's just... eh.

have you never had these thoughts before? bc i'll be honest sometimes even if max absolutely deserves the praise i just get very annoyed, even if i like him (obviously not as much as charles). never seen any 1633s talk about this either.

lol your thoughts are valid anon. I love lestappen, but am always toxic lecfosa deepest down.

For the time being I'm content that history is still being written, and I do still honestly have complete faith that Charles will win championships, and it's enough for me in the waiting time that I know his skill, as does every WDC who is ever asked about him. I block anyone who writes Charles off though, so I do exist in a bubble but it makes my experience more enjoyable. What makes it even more enjoyable is hearing loads of people online/irl laugh off the current possible championship battle and dream of a Charles/Max fight instead.

Re: fandom. I have drifted away from lestappen fandom more over the past several months though because of the fanon interpretation of Charles that's taken root and I dislike because of my support of Charles. There's other factors in my general drift away from lestappen, like how a lot of the fic nowadays feels like generic heteronormative dark romance for some reason, and just general ooc characters. I'm just listing my own gripes, but the slide into more heternormative fanon means that Charles always ends up typecast very damsel in distress and quote unquote "silly" who is saved by big strong world champion Max. Which is fine, it's people's fantasies at the end of the day but it's not how I envisage the dynamic and I dislike what it does to Charles. I still love the dynamic and some fic gets it still and eats, but the online pairing has become overly popular amongst solo Max fans now (which, let's be real is because Charles is becoming more and more self-insert) which leaves diehard Charles fans like me a bit adrift. I still adore lestappen, and my interpretation of it but I do think current fanon just completely ignores Charles' drives and wants and fears in favour of a big fantasy about Max, it always feels like Charles' insanity is written as "failing" or "bad idea" whereas Max's insanity is rewarded.

This turned into a little but of a rant, but basically yes I want Charles to win, and if Charles doesn't win I want Max to win but I'm not sure I'd fully classify myself as "crazed lestappie" anymore even though I love the ship because it's not the fanon ship it was a year ago and I've grown a lot less tolerant of those talking down Charles' talent since then even implicitly.

[viridwns]

Can I get a fic about kidnapped reader and yandere Chrollo on a road trip of some kind and she’s like “let me get the aux” because let’s face it Chrollo’s taste in music is not gonna be road trip friendly and she’s just like jamming out to like Sexxy Red and Doja Cat and Flo Rida? Like I feel like that’s the complete opposite type of music he would listen to and she’s over there having a whole concert

Yan!Chrollo lucilfer x reader

Warning(s): mild cussing, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, one sentence is about implied dubcon

A/N: Quick drabble to try and get out of my writing slump. Too lazy to check for errors, sorry pookies.

WC: I honestly dk, I wrote this on my mobile😭

Antithetical

You loathed car rides with Chrollo. His 'work' forced him to travel a lot, meaning road trips that would usually exceed six hours with no rest stops or pee breaks to avoid being spotted by the wrong people.

Only if you were bursting—on the verge of kidney poisoning—would Chrollo force you to do your business in some random bushes alongside the road.

The close proximity of the metal box had you pushing yourself as far as you could against the door—enjoying the cool steel against your boiling skin.

It was well into summer, and even though you only wore a loose T-shirt from Chrollo and way too large gym shorts, your body didn't seem to regulate the heat.

Chrollo, the non-human that he is, didn't seem bothered by the blazing sun in the slightest. Wearing a white shirt neatly tucked into black, wide-legged trousers secured by a just as dark belt.

You could not spot one drop of sweat on his sickly pale skin.

The AC of the car was blasting in your face, helping a great deal to chase away the uncomfortable warmth. The noise it made was loud, but still not loud enough to overpower the radio.

Chrollo was a control freak through in through. You were used to it by now, but you hadn't expected it to extend all the way to what music was playing in the car.

Car rides with Chrollo were already unbearable. He was a macho driver, thinking you would fall head over heels if he parked with one hand, but even though he tried to look tough, he drove like a grandma—he didn't want any attention, getting pulled over or driving too noticeable could mess up his plans. He also had the need to have one hand rest on your thigh for the whole entirety of the ride, be it five minutes or fifteen hours. He loved prodding at your mind in these long hours; asking you deep and personal questions that would have you reeling by the end of the drive.

But the one thing that icked you the most was his taste in music.

These rides could be long—this one a nice thirteen hours from the last place he kept you—and sleeping could only cover half, if not less. You needed a distraction from the man next to you and his tongue; blasting some good tunes for example.

Für Elise wasn't one of those tunes.

Chrollo had a thing for classical music; befitting his dark academia style as he also loved to read older literature and collect antiques.

And you didn't mind it most of the time—you had to admit that some songs were enjoyable to listen to.

But not for thirteen hours on end.

With one-fourth of the journey done, no desire to sleep, and Chrollo humming along to his playlist, you finally had enough.

"Chrollo, can I have the aux?" You asked, head slightly turning to look at the raven haired man while still holding your place in front of the AC.

You had asked Chrollo this question multiple times, but he always found a way to go around it.

Chrollo squeezed your thigh, making you press yourself further against the door.

His eyes remained focused on the road, but his grin was a tell-tale sign that this was going to be a mind war again.

"And why do you want that?" He replied, turning the radio down a tat to hear you better.

You sighed.

"Because we've been listening to your music since the beginning of the trip." You sat up straight when Chrollo started nodding along with your words.

"Okay, but this music is relaxing. It doesn't distract me from the traffic around me. You don't want us to end up in an accident, no?" He said, sparing you a quick glance.

You pursed your lips.

It was hard to pinpoint where he used manipulation tactics exactly in your conversations.

You were able to pick it up rather quickly now, though.

You turned to him, lips in a thin line.

"Chrollo, this is torturing my ears." You pointed at the radio to emphasize your meaning.

He laughed.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused"

You gave him a sharp glare as he lightly rolled his eyes.

You had to give him a challenge of sorts. You knew he liked the thrill of those—the need to prove that he is capable of overcoming anything in his way.

"You're so dramatic about other people's music tastes. You hate listening to anything other than your own playlist. You don't even know other music genres," you started, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping in the passenger's seat.

As you were about to speak again, Chrollo interjected.

"Rock, Indie, metal, pop, electronic, blues, jazz—should I continue?"

He smiled as he faced you for a second before looking at the road again.

"Nice try, love, but implying that I don't know something is a dead give away of your schemes." Chrollo mused, patting your thigh.

He was mocking you, he saw right through your plan. You were stupid to think you could outwit him.

One day though.

One day you will.

You grumbled before slumping back in your seat, craning your neck to meet the frigid wind of the airconditioner.

The car was silent now except for the violins harmonizing on the radio. You were mere seconds away from taking the wheel and crashing the vehicle just for a few seconds of peace.

Chrollo sighed. You perked up at this. He wasn't too keen on already having you on edge this early in the trip. Every time that happened, you two would fight every day because you were petty like that.

He hands you his phone. You slowly take it with a quirked brow as your straighten your back.

"Fine, go ahead then."

You peer at him, suspicion running high.

"This isn't a trick?"

"No."

"I'm not getting in trouble if I change the music?"

"No."

"I don't have to give you a blow job while you're driving if I do this?"

"If you insist—"

You push the phone his way. Chrollo laughs before throwing you a wink. He nudges the device back with his shoulder.

"There are no catches here. I swear. Play your music."

You throw him uncertain glances as you open the music app; one of the only apps it had. He had bought this phone with you in mind. Shalnark modified it, so only Chrollo's number was on it, and no other numbers could be dialed. It also contained a few games. Like uno, you played that online with a few of the other phantom members. It kept you sane when you were locked in and alone for days on end.

You scrolled through your playlists, Chrollo only had one, and that was the 'liked songs' album.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you clicked your 'God better not see this one' list.

You could only feel a little victorious as you watched Chrollo's face sour when boss bitch by Doja Cat blasts from the radio.

You scream the lyrics in his face as you start moving your arms with the rhythm of the music.

It felt so good to just jam out to your songs for once. You ignored the pointed look of Chrollo when the next number that came on was CPR by CupcakKe.

A twinge of happiness tugged at your heart as you realized Chrollo would suffer a hundred times more in these few hours than you did and probably will do in all the carrides that have and will happen.

At least that was what you thought, but as you were about to bellow 'I save dick by giving it CPR' in your kidnapper's ear, he was looking at you with this love sick expression.

Eyes twinkly, stupidly handsome smile on his face and a total lack of concentration of his surroundings.

You felt your stomach lurch, and without a second thought, you put on the four seasons by vivaldi; almost breaking the screen in process.

You dropped the phone on your lap and crossed your arms. Your good mood only lasted three seconds before Chrollo decided to throw acid over it.

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before returning his eyes to the road.

You felt stupid for buying his lies once again.

"You planned that, didn't you." It was more a statement than a question that came out of your mouth as you pushed your back against the cardoor.

Chrollo hummed as his hand found your thigh again, continuing his finger tapping along with the music.

You huff.

That was all you could do in response to him.

One thing was for certain: you would never play your music again, even if Chrollo begged you to.