#soft and mundane and ordinary

[tojisun]

(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.

How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.

Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.

She is the single mother who moved from another country.

Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.

At hearing her.

She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—

God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?

“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.

Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.

Filling. Wondrous.

“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”

She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.

Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.

Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.

(He already is. Have been, for a while now.

Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.

She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.

And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.

How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.

How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.

She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”

“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”

He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—

No.

When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?

That you want him too?)

(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.

Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.

Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.

He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He…

He makes mama happy.

Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.

Books are no fun.

Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)

[hopeswriting]

tsuna is the patron saint of the mundane, of the normal and common place, of the average and unimpressive. he's the unshakable believer of that being enough in and of itself, of that being fulfilling and fundamental to achieve happiness. and he's the unyielding protector and defender of the beauty and love and kindness within the ordinary, of the holy and divine and sacred within it, and of them being worth fighting for.

tsuna's the guy who makes the ordinary extraordinary from the sheer way he holds it so very close to his heart like it's the most precious thing in the world, and it's the thing about him i, for one, love him most for

[seraphdreams]

GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

[midnightorchids]

Jason finds comfort in the mundane.

He likes pushing the cart around the supermarket, while you check items off of your list. He likes sneakily throwing in snacks and sweet treats when you’re not paying attention. And he adores when you scold him, in the middle of the market, for not sticking to the list. It always has him biting back a smile.

He finds it endearing, calming almost.

Jason likes holding your hand while you wait in line to order your favourite drinks at the local cafe. He likes the soft smiles you give him and the way you lean your head on his arm. Or the part where you place a quick kiss on his cheek before swaying your intertwined hands.

He adores the feeling because it makes him feel real, more normal.

He likes sitting in the living room with your feet propped up on his thighs. He likes catching up on his readings, while you watch your show. He tries not to smile when you pretend not to stare at him. The face you make when you know you’ve been caught has his heart beating faster.

Jason lives for the quiet moments, the ordinary days. The ones that remind him of his being and bring him a sense of peace.

[astraystayyh]

SHUTTTT UP HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・779 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・hyunjin x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, intentional lowercase / 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲・inspired by That ig post and my own recent visit to tokyo. happy birthday, @astraystayyh; consider this my official proposal (˘⌣˘ )♡

when you slip out the hotel’s double doors, you’re stunned to find the world has gone completely dark.

just a few hours ago, you were oohing and ahhing at the colorful chaos of tokyo as the van trudged slowly along the jammed freeway. now, blue has been overtaken by obsidian, and the illuminated city sprawls beneath an invisible horizon like stars plucked from the empty sky.

“the sun sets early here, huh?” hyunjin hums as he appears at your side. his dark hair is scented and silky from his shower, his broad shoulders outlined by the denim trench coat he’s thrown over a black turtleneck—the most beautiful boy on earth, and he’s yours.

“i was j-just thinking that,” you answer through chattering teeth, and your boyfriend’s chuckle hits the air in the form of a silver cloud.

“i told you you’d need this.”

he drapes a puffer jacket around you; his arm follows, draws you near. you slot into his side perfectly.

“better?”

your eyes lock with hyunjin’s, then flicker downwards. the doormen are busy loading a luggage cart. the foyer is empty for the most part. empty enough. 

“better,” you respond, moments before you lose yourself in the warm pressure of his lips.

soft hair tickles your cheeks like butterfly wings. hyunjin’s been tempted to cut it recently, complaining that it’s getting too long. you’ve been rejecting the notion vehemently, and this is one of many reasons why. your fingers skim over the base of his neck, and the air that hyunjin sucks through his teeth whistles between your parted mouth.

“cold,” he whines. 

a giggle escapes your throat. “sorry.”

recently, your and hyunjin’s schedules have been clashing so awfully that you really only see each other before and after bed. both of you are well accustomed to these cycles of mutual scarcity by now; it is enough, during such times, just falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice, or waking to kisses scattered across every inch of exposed skin and a quiet, melancholy “see you tonight, angel.”

but then, you miraculously stumble upon a free weekend that coincides with the last leg of hyunjin’s tour. he’s on the phone with staff within seconds of hearing the news; your boarding pass arrives in your inbox later that night; now, here you are, in japan on a friday night, burrowed in your boyfriend’s arms, your sights set on a tiny udon joint in the back alleys of shinjuku.

going out in public with hyunjin feels like you’re playing poker. dispatch is your opponent and the deck is always rigged. ninety-nine percent of the time, you prefer to circumvent the game entirely. 

you’re all in, tonight.

“it’s a twenty-seven minute walk.” dark locks fall into hyunjin’s face as he looks at the navigation app on his phone. “is that okay?”

“you tell me. you’re the one who rehearsed for three hours today." you reach for the loose strands; tuck them behind the cuff of his ear. “maybe we should just take the subway.”

“but i wanna explore the city with you.”

“and we can, after your concerts.”

“i only have you for two days. let’s start now.”

the funny look you give him says, we have an apartment together, idiot, and he hastens to add—

“okay, i only have you here for two days. it’s different.”

that, you can’t argue with. hyunjin takes your lack of a retort as his cue to begin your journey, dragging the both of you onto the sidewalk. 

“i will not be the one answering to chan when you oversleep tomorrow,” you mumble.

his hand stretches out where it rests on your shoulder, silently asking for yours. you oblige before you even process his request, your fingers sliding thoughtlessly in the spaces between his.

“deal.” hyunjin presses a swift kiss to your temple, your eye squinting shut at the contact.

if you’re being honest, you hardly remember the walk to the restaurant. all the bright lights are beautiful but get old quickly, eventually blurring into a forgettable, fluorescent mass.

what you do remember is hyunjin’s excited gasp when he recognizes the anime being advertised on a distant billboard. hyunjin’s flawless japanese as he helps an old couple with directions, and the proud smile he wears afterward (he’s been practicing). hyunjin’s fingers pulling you close by the loops of your jeans, his mouth slanting over yours for the ninth, tenth time with no justification except for you’re just so pretty. hyunjin’s hair fluttering over his eyes when he tilts his head at the camera, the resulting picture so maddeningly beautiful that it becomes your new wallpaper right away.

what you do remember from that evening, and what you would remember in every iteration of your life, is hyunjin.

(you remember the udon, too. it was very good.)

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Crawling Back to You

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader SMUT

Summary: Hotch shows up at your place late one night needing company.

CW: newly divorced!Hotch, needy!Hotch, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie,

a/n: imma be real with yall, I don’t think I’ll ever write a Hotch fanfic where the reader isn’t a part of the BAU lol also this is pretty much straight sex

*This is the fanfic the won the poll so it’s the one I finished first!*

~~~

It was nearly midnight.

So when a hasty knock pounded against your door, you were apprehensive. Finger resting flat against the side of your gun as you looked through your peephole. Unsuspecting a familiar face at this hour.

“Hotch?”

Aaron Hotchner. Your supervisor and Unit Chief. Bags under his eyes heavy with lines mapping his face. Lips pierced tightly into his mouth as his doey brown eyes looked at you. A small bit of stubble decorated his jaw. You examined his body making sure he did not have anything physically wrong with him. Noting his lack of work attire. T-Shirt with a zip-up over it along with some jogger pants and tennis shoes. Far more casual than you ever saw him.

“May I come inside?”

You stepped back into your home, allowing him to pass by you. Scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses. Musky, with some sweeter hints underneath. Closing and locking the door behind you. Placing your gun back into its holster and hiding it in its usual spot.

“Is everything okay?”

Your hand rubbed your neck as you watched him look around your place. It was dark and silent. You made it a routine to read before bed. Curled up under your soft, yellow lamp on your couch. Just getting to the end of the latest chapter when you had been taken aback by the noise at your door.

Hotch’s silence worried you. Brow resting heavy upon his head as his fists clinched at his sides. Fearing he had some extremely troubling news to share with you. His disheveled hair and lack of formality clued you in that he had come over after something happened.

“Hotch…?”

You trailed off as you closed the distance between you. Hand flattening against his back with your question. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. Orbs glossy and sad. Your expression dropped when you saw the tears staining the corner of his eyes. Never having seen your boss like this. It tugged at your heart.

“Oh, Aaron…”

“Can I… stay here tonight? I can’t be alone in that house another night,” Hotch’s voice was soft and broken. Fighting off showing his emotions to you. Expression as if he had just seen someone kick his puppy. Urge inside you wanting to caress his face and pull him into a hug.

Divorce was hard. Even for someone as cold and stoic as Aaron Hotchner. It was far worse when a child was involved. Throwing his mundane life through the wringer. Ripping away the semblance of normality he had.

“Of course,” your fingers trickled down his arm, “Can I get you anything?” Offering as he slumped into your couch.

“Just some water,” his shaky voice had your stomach doing flips. Hurrying into the kitchen to hide your flushed expression. Pouring him a small cup and sitting it on the table in front of him. His neck strained backward as he rested his head. Admiring how the soft glow of your living room highlighted his jawline.

The two of you sat in complete silence. You fidgeting with your own hands. Pinching and rolling your fingers. Watching Hotch’s broad chest rise and fall with each deep breath he took. His nostrils flaring with slight irritation. Clearly defeated and tired. Unable to properly rest on his own.

Sighing heavily as he sat up. Leaning forward to grab the water. Drinking nearly half the glass in one go. It was strange seeing him here. On your couch in some ordinary clothes. Feeling like ordinary people momentarily. Hotch’s face fell into his hands. Rubbing along his worry lines.

“Hotch—“

“Y/N, I—“

You spoke at the same time. Awkwardly smiling as you cut each other off. Soft, unsure chuckles vibrating off your walls. Your hand planting itself against Hotch’s arm as you leaned forward, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hotch’s sorry eyes blinked towards you. Eyebrows curved and mouth frowned. Same glassy stare from before returning. Nodding slowly, “I’ve been so lonely…” Your arms raised as Hotch laid his head in your lap. Unsure where to place your hands. Blushing at the intimacy your boss was seeking in you. Unable to deny the feelings swimming around your chest for him.

Resting one hand on his head and the other softly lying against his arm. Fingers petting his hair, stiff locks slowly softening. His hand came up and interlocked fingers with yours against his arm. Pulling your hand closer to his face. Cheek resting against it, a soft peck of his lips gifting itself there.

Your heartbeat rang in your ears. Trying your hardest to steady your breathing. To stop the shaking of your hands. Warmth engulfing you from where each part of him touched you.

Intimacy was not something anyone in the BAU ever got from Hotch. An occasional hug after something may have endangered someone. His tended to be spoken. Not physical. So this was a strange new feeling.

Not helping with the under-the-table feelings you had been harboring for Hotch for so long.

“Y/N…”

There was a whine on his tone that made your head spin. Your fingers tightened in his hair instinctively. Gripping on to something to support the pulse that radiated in your lower half. His brows knitted together at the feeling, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“Yeah?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Loosening your grip. Going back to gently petting him. Trying to calm yourself down.

Hotch turned, reaching his arm up to cup your face. Thumb tracing against your cheek. Dark pupils looked into yours. Admiring your face. Pushing himself up to meet your lips. Capturing you in a deep kiss.

Surprising you.

“A-Aaron…”

You stumbled. Not wanting him to do anything he would regret. Eyes scanning his for some semblance of— Regret? Fear? Hesitation? Something?

“Please…”

Aaron’s sultry voice and the feeling of his large hand against your face had you melting into him. His wanting tone begging you. Puppy dog eyes looking into you. Lips finding yours again. Pulling your lower lip between his. Tongue wanting to explore your mouth. Allowing him to pin you mostly against the couch with his torso. Thick fingers tangled in your hair. Holding you close to him as he latched onto you.

Pulling away for only a moment. Looking into each other’s eyes. Seeing nothing but desperate desire in his.

“You look so beautiful in this light,” Hotch gently pushed your hair behind your ear. Watching your face redden and lashes fluttered at his compliment. His lips planted on your neck, hand gripping the back of your head. Sucking and licking softly against your skin. Trailing along your pulse. No doubt, leaving soft purple marks behind. Nothing that would not fade or be easily covered by makeup, of course. Just enough for you to feel how badly he wanted you.

“Aaron…” you began, wanting to tell him how you were not some cheap hookup to help him get over his wife. How you needed to be something more than that with him. Confessing all your pent up feelings for him. How heavily they had been lying on your shoulders. And that you wanted this, just more special.

But.

When Aaron looked up at you with his big, sad brown eyes every thought you had disappeared. Consumed by how pathetic and desperate he looked. Disheveled hair and shiny lips sending you into a feral state.

You mouthed attempting to find the words. Losing every semblance of a thought as you watched his eyes dart between your eyes and lips. Hand coming up to cup his face. Nuzzling into your grasp as he stared at you. Warmth from his cheeks heating up your palm.

“Are you just wanting an outlet?” the whisper escaped your mouth without thought.

“No… I just want you,” Aaron whispered back. A soft confession of his true feelings. Leaning in to kiss you once more. Tongue parting your lips to lap into your mouth. Deepening the kiss as he sat up further. Attempting to shift so that he was pulling you onto his own lap. Shuffling around each other until your legs straddled him.

Long, thick fingers rubbed up your exposed thighs. Resting against your hips. Doeing his eyes up at you. Hands resting on his shoulders as you sat upon him. Enjoying the weight of you on his body. His hands danced under your loose fitting shirt, feeling your soft plump skin. Running up to squeeze at your breasts. Softly pinching at your nipples through your bra. Hotch sighed, hint of a smile on his face.

Gentle hands splayed across his chest. Fingertips tracing the zipper until you were pulling it down. Helping him remove his jacket, throwing it onto the floor. Leaving him in only a tight, white shirt. Muscles accented by the short sleeves and dim lighting. Lips falling against his jugular. Featherlight kisses scattered across his skin. His own hands gripping onto your back tightly. Shortly finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it.

Coarse fingertips hooked around the hem of your shirt, pulling it and your bra off in succession. Hotch’s hands gripped your back. Awestruck by the look of you above him. Nipples hardening when the cold air washed over your body. Softly cupping his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him once more. A groan vibrating through his throat when your breasts pressed against him.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Hotch,” you spoke into his mouth.

Corner of his mouth curved into a grin. Eyebrows still pressed tightly together as if he was still unsure. Not completely convinced on why he came here. Just knowing his body craved yours tonight.

“Take me to your bedroom,” Hotch breathed out. Not demanding, simply asking. Pleading eyes locking into yours.

You rose off his lap. Standing before his disheveled state. Legs spread wide with a tent pitched between them. Heating up your face when his body followed yours like losing contact with you physically hurt him. Interlocking fingers to guide him down the hallway. Smiling over your shoulder at him.

Allowing him into the room first, closing and locking the door behind you. His body was quick to pin yours against the door. Knocking the air out of your lungs momentarily. Strong hands squeezed at your softness. Pulling a moan from you when his rough fingertips pinched at your nipples. Leaning down to capture the bulb between his lips. Muttering curses and his name under your breath.

“Please, Y/N… I-I need you,” Hotch mumbled against your flesh. Hands trailed the waistband on your shorts.

“How do you need me?” You kissed his jawline.

“On top, please…” he trailed off. Moaning when your hand flattened against his erection. Fingers gripped around him, gently stroking his shaft. Hotch became a whimpering mess in your hand. Eyes squinted shut and mouth hanging open. You led him back against your bed step-by-step. Back of his knees buckling when they met the mattress. Resting up on his elbows to continue looking at you.

Thumbs tugged at your waist, pulling down your shorts and panties. Causing Hotch’s breath to tighten in his throat. Seeing you in your full nudity leading to his clothes feeling obscenely tight. Practically ripping his shirt from his chest.

Kneeling down before him. Hotch’s bare chest heaved. Melting expression stirring around your stomach, finding itself nestling between your legs. Manicured fingertips played at his waistband. Hotch craned his neck back, adoring the feeling of your hands on him. Steadily, shaking hands pulled his joggers down his legs. Revealing the outline of his erection in his boxer-briefs. Mouth watering sight before you.

"Oh, God, please," Hotch begged with a broken voice. Your lips kissed against his stomach directly above his underwear. Traveling down to be kissing the length of his shaft. Hatch's legs bounced with anticipation. Finally, you removed his underwear from his body. Cock bouncing free. Thick and swollen, with a drop of pre-cum decorating the head. Throwing his boxer-briefs somewhere on the floor as you straddled his waist. Passionate hands dug into your waist. Completely slack jawed as he took in every inch of you.

"Y-You... you're incredible," Hotch breathed out, eyes finding their place in yours again. Shining in the moonlight that beamed in through your barely opened curtain. Your cheeks burned at his compliment. Unable to deny the full faced smile that overtook you. Blushing at his soft expression.

You hovered directly over his cock. Nose to nose with your boss. Kissing him again before resting your hips against his. Cock gliding through your slick folds as you capture it between your bodies. Hotch moaned at the feeling of your warmth, "Oh, Y/N."

You grinded down on him, lathering his member with your arousal. Shaky gasps escaped him with each move of your hips. "Please, please," Hotch stammered with squinted eyes, "I need to be inside you, now."

Hand lined him up with your entrance. Sinking down slowly as to adjust to his girth. Your face contorted in pleasure at the feeling of him stretching you. Calling out his name when you were flush against his body. Large, brown eyes stared up at you. Face flushed and agape as he watched you rise and fall onto his cock again. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you found a perfect rhythm. Chanting his name over and over again as you rode him.

Hotch's hands grasped under your thighs, helping you get higher off him. Sloppy sounds filled your silent bedroom. Mixed in with the grunts and moans that escaped you and Hotch. Sound of slapping skin rang in your ears.

"Perfect," Hotch sighed breathlessly, finally relaxing his neck and head onto the mattress. Your nails dug into his chest, arching your hips to allow him deeper inside you. Panting as you hopped up and down. Lost with how perfectly his cock hit every spot inside you. Running your hand down the front of yourself, fingers finding your sensitive clit. Circling it.

"Aaron," you whined when he hit that spongy spot deep inside that had electricity shooting through your nerves.

"I love when you say my name," Hotch grunted. Your insides constricted with his deep, sultry voice. Causing him to rut his hips upward, chasing the feeling.

And you swear you had never had someone this good. As if his cock had been made perfectly for you. Almost like Hotch already knew your body. Knew how to make it feel good and how to get you there. He had you seeing stars.

"Can I cum inside you?"

His shaken voice pleaded. Feeling himself twitch and grow more sensitive knowing his end was approaching. Not wanting to lose the sensation of you wrapped around him.

"Please, Y/N."

You nodded viciously. Feeling your own orgasm preparing to wash over you as the familiar tightening in your stomach returned. Bottoms of your feet tingled with heat as you moaned above him. Looking down to see his puppy dog eyes doeing up at you. As if he had never seen anything as beautiful as you in his life. Admiring every single piece of you. Never wanting to leave you.

A few more swirls of your fingers had your insides clamping around Hotch. You fell forward, holding onto him for support as you shook. Moaning into his ear, his name a mantra from your tongue. He held you tight against him, bottoming out inside you as you finished around him. "So good," he praised into your ears.

Hotch continued the movements you had been doing. Thrusting his hips up into you, clearly chasing his own high now. Forcing a squeaky whine with each snap of his hips. Strong fingers dug into your back as kept you flush to his chest. Angled hips causing your sensitive cunt to spasm. Few more before he was shooting up into you. Filling you to the hilt with his seed, keeping his hips firmly pressed into yours. Trembling as he finished.

Lying in silence other than both of your panting. Refusing to move from the position you were in. Cock halfway softening inside you. Your nose was tucked into the crook of his neck. His hands gently rubbed up your back. Enjoying the feeling of your bodies still tangled together. Hearts beating in sync. Minds consumed by thoughts of the other. The world fading around you.

Hotch planted a kiss on the side of your head. Causing you to lean up and look at him. Being greeted with a smile that caused you to blush. Somehow still making you feel flustered even after fucking you. As if you were not lying completely nude against him. Nestling your face back into his neck to hide your heated cheeks. Hotch chuckled at your embarrassment.

"Thank you," Hotch broke the silence.

"You don't have to thank me," you smiled against his skin.

Hotch hummed in response.

You remained like this for several minutes. Drifting off, the late hours catching up with you.

"Let's get under the blanket," you shivered with the chill of the room hitting your warm skin.

"Don't wanna move," Hotch's sleepy tone made your stomach do a flip.

"Come on," you pushed yourself up. Causing his member to slip out of you. The two of you wincing at the sensation. Hotch groaned at the lost of your body heat. Reaching up for you as you crawled up to the pillows. Finally rolling to meet you under the blanket. Nestling under the bedding together.

Hotch wrapped his arms around you. Getting as close to you as possible. Engulfing you in his warmth. You wrapped your own arms around him. Limbs tangling together as you found a comfortable position together.

You felt yourself falling asleep in his comfort. Hoping that in the morning this would all be a happy memory you shared. Begging for him to still want you by daybreak.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! You all have been nothing less than wonderful ever since I started writing for Hotch. I really love seeing all the comments and reposts, you guys mean the world to me! As always, my inbox is always open and if you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

{tags}

@mrs-ssa-hotch ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @cherriready ~ @khxna ~ @megangovier ~ @justyourusualash ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~

[songbirdseung]

walk home / nishimura riki

did you think you'd get a potential boyfriend on your way to the convenience store during one of your many midnight walks?

you had walked these streets every day for the past four years, each step blending into the next, creating a rhythm of routine. the same worn pavements, familiar storefronts, and repetitive decorations lined your path. nothing out of the ordinary ever caught your attention—just the usual, mundane occurrences that seemed to blur together. each day felt like a carbon copy of the last, a predictable cycle you had grown accustomed to.

but today, something unexpected happened.

as you made your way down the street, lost in your thoughts, a sudden burst of energy interrupted your mental drift. out of nowhere, a small, fluffy dog came dashing toward you, its tail wagging furiously, eyes alight with excitement. the little pup stopped at your feet, looking up at you with an expression of pure joy, as if you were its long-lost best friend. taken aback, you crouched down to greet the enthusiastic furball, your heart instantly warming at the sight.

"well, aren’t you a friendly one," you murmured, scratching behind the dog’s ears. the pup leaned into your touch, clearly enjoying the attention.

before you could wonder where its owner was, a voice called out from behind, slightly breathless. "bisco! there you are!" the voice exclaimed. you looked up to see a young man jogging toward you, his face flushed from exertion, strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

"i’m so sorry about him," he said, stopping a few steps away. "bisco usually doesn’t just run up to strangers like this."

that’s how you met riki—and his dog, bisco.

you remembered the rush of emotions you felt when you first saw him. he was gorgeous, with a striking yet approachable face, his tall frame accentuated by his confident stride. despite his edgy clothing style, there was a softness to his demeanor that made him seem approachable and, frankly, adorable.

"hi," he said, still catching his breath. "i really apologize. bisco can be a little... unpredictable sometimes."

"it’s okay," you replied with a smile, still petting the dog. "bisco, huh? that’s a cute name."

riki chuckled, a sound that made your heart flutter. "thanks. he’s named after my favorite snack."

you laughed softly. "well, bisco seems to like me. he ran straight over."

"i don’t blame him," riki said, his lips quirking into a shy smile. "he has good taste."

there was a beat of comfortable silence, bisco happily wagging his tail between you. you felt a warmth spreading through your chest, a strange but pleasant sensation, as if something meaningful had just begun.

"so... do you walk bisco around here often?" you asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

"yeah, we live just a few blocks away. this is his favorite route," riki replied, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. "what about you?"

"same. i walk this way almost every day. funny we haven’t crossed paths until now."

"guess bisco was determined to change that today," riki said, glancing down at his dog with affection.

"looks like it," you agreed, laughing softly. "maybe he’s trying to set us up."

riki’s eyes twinkled with amusement. "if he is, he’s doing a great job."

you continued chatting, the conversation flowing easily despite having just met. bisco occasionally tugged at his leash, sniffing around and wagging his tail, oblivious to the new connection forming above him. with each passing minute, the once-familiar street seemed to transform. what had always been a mundane path now felt filled with possibility and excitement, all because of this chance encounter.

"maybe we should let bisco choose our routes more often," riki said, his tone light but his eyes holding a deeper interest.

"maybe we should," you replied, feeling a smile stretch across your face.

as the two of you stood there, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. the once-ordinary day had turned into something extraordinary, thanks to a playful pup.

"hey," riki’s voice gently pulled you back to reality. you blinked a few times, refocusing on the present. he was standing in front of you, his head tilted slightly, an amused grin tugging at his lips. "you okay there? you zoned out for a second."

"oh, sorry," you said, feeling a bit flustered. "i was just... thinking."

"about the first time we met?" he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes. "you had that same dreamy look on your face."

you laughed, trying to hide your embarrassment. "yeah, you caught me. i was thinking about bisco running up to me and how awkward you were."

"hey!" riki protested with a mock pout, crossing his arms. "i wasn’t that awkward."

"you totally were," you teased, nudging his arm. "but it was cute."

riki shook his head, chuckling softly. "well, if it got us here, i guess a little awkwardness was worth it." he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and familiar.

[girlkisser13]

being married to agatha harkness would include

• as a witch who has been around for hundreds of years, she has an odd fascination with ordinary beings, cherishing the small moments— like the two of you making dinner together or enjoying a night out.

• the two of you live in a small cottage, but have a MASSIVE garden.

• she’s always picking up new plants and seeds and helping you plant them.

• agatha's sharp wit would keep things lively. you’d enjoy playful banter, with inside jokes and teasing that reflect her strong personality and sense of humor.

• she doesn’t really own a lot of clothes, preferring to wear one outfit for a thousand years before switching to another. however, she knows many intricate hairstyles that she loves to try out on you.

• as a result, your hair always looks great.

• agatha would enjoy winding down with you through relaxing rituals, like candle-lit baths infused with herbs or stargazing while discussing the universe's secrets.

• she’d always have your back, encouraging you to embrace your own power and creativity, whether that’s through magic or other passions.

• you might find yourselves going on time-traveling escapades, experiencing different eras and cultures while navigating the complexities of history.

• your home would be filled with magical artifacts, quirky decor, and plenty of enchanted plants, creating a cozy yet mysterious atmosphere.

• agatha’s adventurous spirit would lead to spontaneous trips to magical realms or historical events, where you’d learn firsthand about magic’s influence throughout time.

• you’d have a vast library filled with rare books and scrolls, where you both spend hours lost in stories, research, or planning your next magical venture.

• it’s adorable how seriously she takes the study and craft of magic, yet she often uses her powers for the most mundane things— like getting your attention or playfully teasing you.

• agatha completely dotes on you; anything you desire, she’ll find a way to make it happen.

• when you’re having a bad day, she stops everything to ensure you’re okay, often bringing you tea and settling in for a cozy movie night on the couch until you drift off to sleep.

• she’s promised never to use her powers on you without your consent, and while it’s tough for her to see you upset, she sticks to her word and supports you in ordinary, non-magical ways.

• the two share SOO many baths together !!

• the moment you enter the bathroom, agatha's beautiful laughter fills the air, and before you can even undress, she pulls you into the warm bubble bath beside her.

• the scent of lavender envelops you as you splutter from the water, and her hands pull you close, cradling you against her chest.

• she loves to playfully pretend to trip just so you’ll rush over to catch her, relishing the flustered look on your face. but you find ways to get back at her, too.

• when you call her your wife, you can’t help but notice the deep blush spreading across her face. even after all this time, that one word makes her heart flutter.

• she LOVES cuddling with you, wrapping a leg around your waist to pin you down, making it impossible to escape her warmth. soft whines escape her lips as you wiggle around, but once you flip over to face her, you press a gentle kiss against her mouth until her breathing settles.

• she loves to run her fingers through your hair, always finding ways to be physically affectionate.

• if you’re around, she can’t help but touch you— whether it’s holding your hand, resting a hand on your waist, or giving you hugs.

• the moment you see her, you instinctively reach for her, and she always blushes when you initiate contact.

• after facing the heartbreak and loneliness from her mother, it comforts her to know that some invisible string ties her soul to yours. no matter what happens or where she goes in this strange world, a part of her will always find its way back to you. <33

[tasteleeknow]

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 

“God, you scared me.” 

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 

You loved him. 

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 

It falls. 

You’re pathetic without it. 

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 

Not an option. 

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 

You shake your head. 

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 

“Not really.” 

His eyebrows pull together. 

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“I—” 

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

[kkuzushi]

𐔌 Ditching For Ropes .ᐟ

⠀✦ cw : sub!Wanderer x gn!Reader | Post-irminsul Wanderer + calling him Kunikuzushi, bondage/shibari, body worshipping, praise, blowjob (giving), fingering (giving), dick/strap penetration, coming untouched, a bit of aftercare in the end – 2.1k words

⠀✦ additional notes : Better late than never, right? Wanderer breathes and blush here.. for the sake of smut.

Today was anything but forgettable, much to Wanderer’s frustration. He had hoped the day would pass quietly, with everyone treating it like just another ordinary moment. After all, wasn’t that the truth? There was nothing significant about his birth—so why was everyone so insistent on making a big deal out of it? Yet now, the more they celebrated, the harder it became for him to ignore.

As much as he just wanted everything to get over with, he couldn’t argue about Nahida’s insistence on “celebrating the mundane.” Of course, his preferences still matter as he is the ‘star of the show’. Cake? No thanks. A small gathering? Too exhausting. Anything remotely festive? Not happening. So you came to the rescue, steering him to another room where you left your special present for him.

Nothing good ever comes out of your plans—that’s what Wanderer likes to think when you’re in his radar, still he chooses to follow you every time. Soon enough, he finds his own body adorned with crimson ropes, one he saw frequently back in Inazuma.

The ropes formed a criss cross pattern along his figure, accentuating the elegant lines of his slender frame. Each knot was meticulously placed, snug but never harsh, binding him in a way that felt both secure and intimate.

“You wear it well,” you murmured, your hand grazing along his torso, trailing goosebumps in its wake. You feel his back arch in the slightest, chasing the brief contact on your palm that stopped on his stomach.

You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead that moves down to his cheeks. Then, your lips reached his neck, his head tilting instinctively to give you more access, letting you savor the moment before moving along to his chest.

Breathing was unnecessary but despite it all, his chest heaved as he responded to every movement you made.

“Already so reactive,” you teased, nipping lightly on his neck. The heat of your breath sent a ripple through him, his muscles tensing beneath your hand as he squirmed slightly in his bindings.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice quiet and his usual sharpness dulled by the intensity of the moment.

You chuckled at his soft retort. Now moving down to his chest, you peppered kisses in between the spaces of the red ropes. It stopped the puppet from moving too much yet you can feel him squirming with every press of your lips on his skin.

Wanderer groaned, “Get to it already.” His violet eyes glared at you, but there was no mistaking the way his body leaned toward your touch, betraying the defiance in his words.

“Patience, Kuni,” you murmured while leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want anything for your birthday. Now you’re acting like you’ve been waiting for this all along.”

“Ugh, just– please..” Wanderer whispered, his voice soft, almost inaudible, as his pride gave way to the need coursing through him. If it weren’t for his wrists tied up above his head, he would’ve pulled you down to take what he wants.

“No need to beg, sweetheart,” you said softly while lowering further until you’re met with his thighs. Gently, you lifted both limbs, resting them securely on your shoulder. “We’ll get to it soon enough.”

Wanderer’s breath hitched, his violet eyes wide and unfocused as you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along the length of his legs. Your lips moved slowly, deliberately savoring every inch of his skin. First, the curve of his knee, then the softness of his inner thigh—each kiss drawing quiet whimpers from him that he tried, and failed, to suppress.

Your teeth sank gently into the soft flesh of his inner thigh, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped marks on his pale skin. The contact drew a sharp gasp from Wanderer, his cock twitching involuntarily in response to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Stop teasing..!” he mumbled, though it came out breathy and strained, betraying how much he was already unraveling.

You chuckled softly, dragging your tongue over the marks you had left, savoring the way his thighs trembled beneath your touch. “I can’t help it. You’re so responsive, Kuni,” you said, your tone dripping with adoration. “It’s addicting.”

You turned your head, your breath brushing the sensitive underside of his cock, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Wanderer. One of your hands released its grip on his thigh, your palm now wrapping around his shaft.

“Mnn.. hAH–!” The broken sounds tumbled from Kunikuzushi's lips, his violet eyes flew wide, darting downward in disbelief, only to witness you taking his member in your mouth without warning.

“Fuck.. at leastmmph–give a warninghh..” His words melted into a strained moan as his head fell back against the pillow, his hands balling to a fist, unable to grip on anything thanks to the ropes.

You pulled his cock out with a wet pop, “Where’s the fun in that? Your surprised face is so irresistible, I couldn’t help myself.” You emphasized by licking a strip along his shaft, your tongue swirling on the tip.

“Unghh.. [name]..” He whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily closer to your mouth. You can taste the precum seeping out of the slit, a flavorless fluid for a puppet yet tastes something uniquely him. Your fingers gathered the remaining lubricant, using it to slick up his hole.

Slowly, you pushed two fingers past the rim, his inner walls hugging your digits. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” you coaxed. The words seemed to melt into him, making his entire body shudder in response, the tension in his muscles slowly giving way.

You let go of his other leg, bending back up to watch his face contort to pleasure with every pump of your fingers in his slicked hole. His eyes would flutter close, mouth hung open to let out the faintest grunts and moans.

“Don’t hold back, I wanna see you enjoy every moment,” you leaned closer to him, capturing his lips for an intimate dance. Wanderer has been waiting for this—almost restlessly as you feel his tongue swirl around yours in undeniable need.

Your fingers scissored his inner walls, curling them just the way he likes it. As you feel him relax with every thrust, your own arousal spiked up. Finally pulling out, Wanderer whined to the kiss, his ass trying to capture your fingers back.

He breaks the kiss, his violet eyes glaring right at you, “You’re teasing me again.” You can almost see him pout, but no need to point it out, it might make him feel worse. So instead, you chuckled and pulled back, observing his body for a moment.

The once steady and defiant puppet is now reduced to a needy, breathless wreck; his restrained form showing another vulnerable side of him, one that’s more intimate yet tempting.

“Alright, no more teasing..” You hummed, brushing the strands of hair that’s sticking to his forehead. “Since you’ve been a good boy, it’s only fair I give what you’ve been waiting for, no?”

A spark ignited in Wanderer’s eyes, he watched you lift and fold his legs to his stomach. His position didn’t allow him to see what you were doing but he could feel something nudging his entrance, his inner walls instinctively making way.

“Ahhnn..” His eyes closed as his head tipped back to the pillows. As you bottomed out, his hips slowly grinded against yours, just barely as the ropes helld him back.

“You feel so good, Kuni,” you praised, keeping a steady rhythm with your thrusts. Your cock slides to and fro with ease; wet, obscene sounds already coming out from his behind.

The puppet’s eyes flickered to yours, holding the eye contact as the intimacy in the atmosphere grew. With every breathless cry from him, you feel his body tense and release under your hands, and the once rhythmic and deliberate movements turn into something more desperate.

Wanderer’s mouth hung open, moans escaping him without a fight. “Morenn.. don’t stop.. hah–” his moans increased along with the intensity of your movements. What the birthday boy wants is what he gets.

You held on to his hips, his legs dangling on either side of your body as you pounded him to oblivion. The head of your cock hits his prostate dead-on, making his eyes roll back.

“OHFfuckkk.. YES!♡ Jjust like ffhhattt..♡” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, words slurring almost incoherently. The sight of him in such a helpless state, reduced to nothing more than a puddle of desire, only makes you smile.

“Good boy, Kuni.. Doing so well for me.” You looked down, his once composed demeanor now reduced to a breathless, pliant mess beneath you. His face flushes, his eyes wide and hazy as he looks up at you, unable to form a coherent thought.

You run your hand through his hair, softly tugging at the strands, and he lets out a soft whimper. His body trembles at your words, and you can see his chest rise and fall with every shaky breath he takes.

A strangled moan escaped his throat as he shut his eyes tight, his entire body feels like it’s vibrating with need. “[name]..! ♡” he gasps, voice raw and desperate, his back arching as if he’s trying to pull you deeper, closer.

You can feel him breaking, his composure slipping faster with every word, every touch. His breath becomes a frantic mess, his body quivering in pleasure as his whimpers turn into soft cries, echoing in the room. “[name]..♡ I’m ccloseehahh..!”

You increase your pace just slightly, pulling a loud gasp from his lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me see you fall apart,” You lean down to whisper in his ear, trailing your lips along his jaw.

His cock twitches with every shift your hips make; the words, the praise, the permission to surrender—all of it causes him to completely lose himself. His body jolts, his breath quickening, as he gives in to the overwhelming pleasure. A low moan escapes him, his entire form shaking with the release.

“Ccummin♡–I’m cummINGHH–!♡♡” Wanderer’s voice cracks as a pure, unadulterated scream escapes his throat. His body finally gives in, shuddering violently under your touch.

As you push him to the edge, the overwhelming sensations break through all his barriers, making him cry out from sheer ecstasy. His hands clenched into fists, fingers twitching in rhythm with your movements. His cock spurts with ropes of cum, dripping down to his pelvis.

The air is thick with the warmth of the moment, both of you panting, bodies still tangled in the aftermath. Wanderer’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, eyes still hazy from the intensity. His limbs feel like jelly, limp and exhausted, but his gaze softens as he looks up at you.

You gently brush a strand of hair from his face, your hand tender against his flushed skin. “You did so well, Kuni," you murmur, your voice gentle but full of praise. "I’m so proud of you.”

You don’t pull out yet, letting him bask in his afterglow. You cupped one side of his face, watching him lean into you. His eyes are glossy with unshed tears, clearly fighting against them from falling. “Let’s go on a date after this, hm?” you hummed while carding your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He lets out a quiet laugh as he processed the shift from intensity to calm. “A date… after all this?” His tone is still a little breathless, but the smile in the corner of his lips was genuine.

“What? Do you prefer a round 2?” you ask with a playful glint in your eyes, your voice low and filled with mischief.

“Maybe let’s start with taking these ropes off..” Wanderer murmured, his voice soft but tinged with a familiar bite of sarcasm.

You chuckled at his deflection, the sound earning a huff from him as he shifted against the pillows. “Alright, birthday boy, hold still,” you said gently, beginning to untangle the ropes with care.

“[name].”

“Yeah?”

“...Nevermind.”

Wanderer looked away, his expression unreadable, though the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks betrayed him. You tilted your head, studying his face as he avoided your gaze. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was hesitating to say.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned closer. “I love you too,” you said gently. Before he could react, you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, feeling the heat bloom beneath your lips.

“Happy birthday, Kunikuzushi,” you murmured, the corners of his lips tugging upward ever so slightly.

“...Tch, whatever,” he muttered, though the softness in his tone gave him away.

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This fic is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.

[hier--soir]

sleepy

pairing: joel miller x f!reader summary: joel is out like a light, but you can only think of one thing that will help you fall asleep. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] established relationship, f!masturbation, masturbating next to sleeping partner, unprotected piv, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, soft joel. word count: 2.7k a/n: this one is for the folks with sleep problems lmao. hope you guys enjoy—any feedback is appreciated!

Your bedroom was pitch-black, the curtains drawn to protect against any slivers of light shining in and disturbing either of you in the morning. Rain pattered softly against the roof, comforting you as you lay awake in the darkness.

Joel was dead asleep beside you.

His bare chest rose and fell with rhythmic deep breaths, soft lips parted to allow quiet snores to escape. After an hour or so your eyes had adjusted to the dark, and you were able to make out the fuzzy outline of his face and body, the way his forehead had smoothed out in his sleep, and how his hair pressed against his forehead from being shoved into the pillow.

It was something you’d never understood—the way most men could simply close their eyes and drift into sleep within minutes. Every man you’d ever dated, slept with, or even slept in the same room as; they were all the same. A few minutes of silence before their breathing evened out into soft snores, body relaxing into the mattress as they disappeared into dreamland. It wasn’t fair.

You’d struggled with sleep since you were a teenager. No matter how busy your days were, or how much physical labour you undertook, your mind whirred at night, endlessly awake until you’d exhausted all avenues of thought, and you’d wake the next morning with no recollection of ever falling asleep.

And when you’d first met Joel, you’d discovered it was much the same for him. Fierce nightmares plagued him at night, terrified him out of falling asleep until he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, only to fitfully rouse him at multiple points throughout the evening. But as your relationship grew over the years, the pair of you settled. You got comfortable, and suddenly all it took was wrapping your arms around one another and you could both pass out with a snap of your fingers.

But on days like this—ones where you’d wiled the hours away reading and doing laundry and eating your meals alone and being terribly fucking bored—you felt old habits rear their ugly head, as you laid down for bed and found yourself wide awake. And yet you couldn’t be mad at him, didn’t even contemplate frustration or jealousy, because his day had been vastly different to yours.

When you’d woken up that morning to find his side of the bed empty, the cold sheets signalled that he’d risen far earlier than you. A note left on the kitchen counter told you that he’d been called out to fill a patrol spot for someone who was under the weather, and that he wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary for him to do favours like that for people, and so you’d gone about your day as usual, performing mundane tasks and chores, milling about with no real goals set for yourself.

And when he did get home, well after sunset, he looked worse for wear. Sodden clothes stuck to his skin as he kicked off waterlogged boots, mumbling under his breath about needing to trade for some thicker socks. It had been raining for hours. What started with soft spitting in the early afternoon had quickly turned into a thunderstorm, and Joel and Tommy had been caught in the thick of it all evening. Fat droplets of cold water oozed out of his hair and rolled down his face, slipping under the collar of his shirt to send shivers down his spine.

He looked positively miserable as he shed the soaked layers by the door, impervious to the sympathetic look you were offering from the couch. Only when he was down to his underwear and t-shirt did he spare a glance in your direction, gaze softening.

“Long day?” you asked softly.

“Long day,” he confirmed, not making a move to come any closer, lest he get any of the rainwater on you.

“Tell me about it,” you prompted, padding across the room to him.

“I’d rather hear about yours,” he retorted earnestly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

And so you led him up the stairs and into the bathroom, detailing how you’d managed to get their washing done before the rain properly set in. And as he stepped under the warm spray of the shower, you told him about Ellie stopping by for a movie in the afternoon.

He hummed to signal that he was listening, but you could see how the day hung heavy on his shoulders. His head slumped forward under the stream, thick steam filling the air as he lazily rubbed a bar of soap along his skin with one hand and brushed his teeth with the other.

“Sounds like a nice day,” Joel smiled as he shut off the water, stepping out into a towel you had ready for him. You nodded, feeling somewhat guilty that he’d listened all about it, knowing his had been the complete opposite.

But he didn’t seem bothered, herding you towards the bedroom where he pulled you underneath the covers, pressing a few soft kisses to your cheeks before he relaxed back into his pillow. Cue: a few brief minutes of silence, breaths growing heavier, and then snoring. And god he deserved it. You watched him for a while, smiling softly at the sight of the man you loved so dearly, your life partner through thick and thin, getting the rest he so needed.

It was lovely… for the first thirty minutes. And then an hour passed. And then it got closer to two hours, and you could hear the leaky shower faucet dripping from down the hall, and the trees rustling against the side of the house, and you were so fucking awake.

The thought flashed through your mind, as it always did when you couldn’t sleep.

Maybe if you just….

Having an orgasm was the only thing you could think of that might tire you out enough to have you falling asleep in seconds. The way the muscles in your arm would get sore, and your entire body would go from tense to lax within minutes. It was enough to have warmth flood your bones and dopamine zap through your brain – and would definitely put you to sleep in a heartbeat. You felt guilty, though, as you contemplated it. Masturbating in front of Joel was common, and was something he often encouraged during sex, dragging your hand between your thighs and encouraging you to touch yourself while he got undressed. But doing it while he was asleep beside you was territory you’d never dipped your toe into before.

Is this perverse? Am I being creepy? What if he wakes up and is horrified?

Well, you told yourself. You just have to make sure that he doesn’t wake up.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the blankets too much, you slid your palm across your stomach until your fingers cupped your sex over your underwear. You stroked your fingers across the material, teasing yourself a little, trying to inspire some kind of horniness. And after a few minutes of gentle touching you could feel a warmth brewing in your stomach, a desire.

Carefully, you tugged your underwear down your legs before swiping your tongue across your middle and ring finger, lubricating them before you pressed them between your folds. You swiped at your entrance, collecting the small amount of slick that had formed there and spreading it across your core. A soft puff of air left your mouth as your fingertips connected with your clit for the first time, thighs tensing as you circled over it with fierce precision. This wasn’t about fun and games or prolonging the experience – this was about finishing as fast and as quietly as possible, and then going the fuck to sleep.

You took care not to move your arm too quickly, tensing your bicep to keep it still while your fingers circled and stroked and flicked against your clit, trying to find the perfect rhythm. A slow tightening began to build in your lower stomach as you discovered the right spot, the right speed, and you quickly pushed a finger inside yourself, collecting more of your slick before returning to your now aching bundle of nerves, the added lubrication making it easier to move.

A harsh exhale to your right made you pause for a moment, limbs stiffening as you waited to see if Joel had woken up. But a moment later his breathing steadied, and you relaxed, fingers continuing their quick movements.

Your forearm burned, muscles tensing with the struggle of keeping still but also providing enough friction to bring you to the edge. And as you felt your high approaching, you struggled to keep your breathing quiet, as heavy, laboured exhales forced themselves past your chapped lips. With your blood rushing in your ears and your middle finger drawing figure eights against your sensitive clit, you could feel it. You were so close, so fucking close, just five more secon—

“What are you doin’?”

The words were accompanied by a warm hand landing on top of your own, long fingers hovering over yours to see if he was correct; if you were touching yourself. A short gasp of surprise left you and your fingers froze, orgasm slinking away, disappearing from reach. Fuck.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumbled breathlessly, a little embarrassed to have been caught. “I can’t sleep and it’s been hours, and m’just trying to make myself sleepy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Joel’s voice was rough and gravelly from sleep, and you bit back a whimper at the sound of it, fingers twitching against your pulsing centre. He moved on the bed, shifting closer so you could feel the warmth of his chest against your side. “Should’ve woken me up baby, would’ve helped tire you out.”

As he spoke, his hand tightened over yours, pushing your fingers to continue moving. Shyly, you began to circle your clit again, attempting to make out his expression through the darkness. For a moment, you swore you could see him grinning.

“You had a bad day,” you whispered raggedly. “Need the rest, I—fuck—didn’t mean to w-wake you.”

While you chattered away, a thick finger dipped into your folds, stroking against the pool of wetness that rested at your entrance. Your fingers sped up, the warmth of his body helping you chase the high you’d come so agonisingly close to. He exhaled heavily, forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“Christ,” he sounded pained. “You’re fucking—soaked. Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?”

“Wasn’t thinking about anything,” you murmured honestly. “Just—ungh—just wanted to come, knew it’d help me fall asleep.”

“Poor baby,” he tutted, nosing at the side of your neck. “Need somethin’ to come on, hmm? Is that it?”

“Yes,” you mewled, hips shifting desperately upward into your hand now that you weren’t afraid of your movements waking him up. He dragged his hand away from you, using it to remove his underwear and then you could feel him against your hip, solid and hot and throbbing. He must have been listening for a moment, hearing you work yourself up. Your mouth went dry, stomach tensing at the feeling of him.

“Yes what, honey?”

“Need something to come on,” you repeated his words, grateful that he couldn’t see the sheer desperation on your face in the darkness.

A strong hand gripped your hip, gently pushing your body until you were laying on your left side and facing the wall. And then he was there, hot chest pressing against your back, lips dragging along the shell of your ear as he manoeuvred your legs into the best position for him to drag the aching tip of his cock through your drenched folds.

He exhaled heavily at the feeling, taking a moment to lube himself up with your slick before notching his head at your entrance. Your fingers were still against your clit, eyes closed as you waited for him to press in.

One arm slithered underneath your head, wrapping around your shoulders to hold you firmly against his chest and allow you to rest the side of your head on his bicep. His other hand held you still, fingertips pushing into your flesh as he flexed his hips, dragging his cock halfway into you. You gasped, pushing your ass back into him, mumbling some nonsense under your breath like ineedyou and pleasejoel and fuck.

He tried to control his breathing, but hot heavy puffs of air tickled the back of your neck as his pelvis came flush to the soft round of your ass, and then he was bottoming out, the full length of him slipping easily inside of you. A low moan dragged its way up your throat and you clutched deliriously at the arm around your torso, griding yourself back against him. But he didn’t budge an inch.

“Go on, baby,” Joel rasped against your ear. “Make yourself come.”

A soft cry of frustration left you, but your hand dropped between your thighs within a second. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his length as you began to rub your clit in soft, slow motions at first. He murmured quiet encouragements in your ear with that deep, coarse drawl that drove you crazy, his thumb rubbing against your waist as you rutted against him. He was heavy inside you, bringing a delicious burn to your cunt that you always loved, a beautiful medley of pleasure and pain that had you careening towards the orgasm that had dangled so painfully out of reach for however long.

Joel’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin below your ear, no doubt leaving a mark as he licked and sucked over the sore spot he’d caused. You gasped at the sensation, tilting your chin up to give him better access to your neck. He squeezed your hip appreciatively, leaning closer to sponge messy kisses along your racing pulse point. Your fingers moved fast against yourself now, circling and rubbing messily, and unintentional moans were spilling from your lips as you felt the coil in your stomach start to draw tighter and tighter.

“Joel,” you choked, hips bucking relentlessly as you searched for more friction, but he still didn’t give you anything.

“C’mon,” he urged. “I know it feels so good, honey, keep goin’. You’re so close, I can—shit—I can feel it, c’mon now give it t’me.”

It didn’t take much more than that for you to start twitching, body convulsing against him as your orgasm tore through you. Your arm burned as you continued to rub your clit, fucking yourself through it as your walls clamped down around him.

He groaned softly in your ear, grip on your waist tightening just a fraction as he pressed forward, giving you a hint of a thrust to prolong your high. You cried out, mouth hanging open in elation as waves of pleasure rolled through you. It was euphoric, and exactly what you needed. Your hand stilled after a minute, and then you were simply rocking against him, riding out the aftershocks.

After a while, the ringing in your ears died down and pinpricks of feeling returned to your fingers as you released the death grip you had on his arm around you.

You slumped against him, the only tension remaining in your body being in your neck as you tried to keep your head up. Your eyelids had grown heavy, and you could feel your body relaxing into the post-orgasm haze that you’d been seeking so desperately.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lathing soft kisses against the edge of your jaw. “Feelin’ tired now?”

You hummed sleepily in response, walls fluttering around him. He let out a low groan but didn’t move.

“Sleep, darlin’,” he said quietly, arms tightening to keep your back flush to his chest.

You could feel how hard he still was, cock pulsing inside you every few moments. But his body was heavy, arms like lead draped over you, and his head had already dropped down to rest against the pillow again. He was exhausted.

“Can we stay like this?” you asked drowsily, shifting your hips to show what you meant.

Joel squeezed your hip in confirmation, and you murmured gratefully. His warmth shrouded your body, filling you up and enveloping you, keeping you safe as your muscles slackened entirely, chin dropping to your chest.

A soft, stilted thank you was the last thing you could muster before sleep clouded your brain and pulled you under. Finally.

[nayziiz]

Comfort Person | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Attending the McLaren gala marked a significant step forward in their relationship. For a whole year, they had carefully cultivated their love away from the prying eyes of the public, choosing to keep their affection shielded from the spotlight. Their social media presence, though scant, hinted at a deeper connection, evident through the occasional birthday mentions and celebratory nods to his triumphs on the racetrack.

But this gala was different. It was a statement, a declaration of their commitment, and a subtle unveiling of their love to the world. While their relationship had been an open secret among close friends and those within the inner circle of the Formula 1 world, this event would bring it to a broader audience.

For her, agreeing to attend the gala was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Stepping into the glamorous world of Formula 1, filled with its high-profile personalities and dazzling events, was a departure from her usual realm. She had only dipped her toes into this world on three occasions, each time experiencing the thrill of the races in Monaco, Belgium, and Silverstone. Yet, despite her limited exposure to the paddock, she found herself drawn to the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere and the magnetic pull of his passion for the sport.

Her demanding career imposed limitations on her ability to accompany him to every race and event, forcing her to carefully select which ones she could attend. Despite the constraints of her professional obligations, she was determined to be there for him in whatever capacity she could manage.

For him, her unwavering support transcended physical presence. Knowing that she would wake up in the early hours of the morning or stay up late into the night to watch his races brought him immense comfort and strength. Her dedication, even from afar, served as a source of motivation during the most gruelling moments on the track.

In the midst of the frenetic pace of the Formula 1 season, her steadfast encouragement provided him with a sense of grounding and reassurance. Whether she was cheering him on from the stands or sending him words of encouragement through late-night texts, her presence loomed large in his heart and mind.

Their relationship was built on a foundation of understanding and compromise, with each of them making sacrifices to support the other's dreams and aspirations. While her absence at certain events weighed heavily on her, she took solace in the knowledge that her love and support transcended geographical boundaries.

The day was a canvas of intimacy, each moment painted with tenderness and shared anticipation. As they lingered in her apartment, the world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of affection.

Showering together was a dance of intimacy, the warm water cascading over their bodies like a gentle caress. He tenderly washed her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with care and devotion. In that shared moment of vulnerability, their connection deepened, each touch speaking volumes of their love for one another.

As she dried her hair, she watched him with a soft smile as he meticulously shaved away the stray stubble, his concentration mirrored in the steady strokes of his razor. Even the simplest of tasks became moments to be savoured in each other's presence, the ordinary transformed into something extraordinary by the power of their love.

For him, the mundane rituals of getting ready took on new significance with her by his side. Every glance exchanged, every shared laugh, was a reminder of the profound joy he felt in having her as his partner. Her presence infused even the simplest moments with an electric energy, sparking excitement in his heart and a smile on his lips.

As he stood poised with the razor in hand, ready to rid himself of the faint traces of stubble that adorned his face, she intervened, her voice soft but determined.

“No, leave it. It looks hot, my love,” she said, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He paused, caught off guard by her unexpected request.

“But I thought you hated facial hair,” he replied, a hint of confusion tingling his words. A playful smile curved her lips as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. 

“I've grown to love it because it's on you,” she confessed, her eyes sparkling with affection. He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, his heart swelling with warmth at her words.

“You're special, you know that,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine admiration.

“Uh, huh. That's why you keep me around,” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she teased him. He pulled her into his arms, unable to resist the urge to shower her with kisses. 

Lando couldn't help but chuckle as he left her in the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup. With a playful grin, he made his way to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks before the event.

After a few minutes, he heard the soft tapping of her heels against the hardwood floors, signalling her emergence from the bedroom. He turned, almost instinctively, his curiosity piqued by the sound of her approach.

His breath caught in his throat as she sauntered past him, the fabric of her dark orange dress flowing around her like molten lava, casting a mesmerising glow in the dim light of the apartment. She looked radiant, her beauty captivating him in a way that never failed to leave him breathless.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he couldn't tear his gaze away, his jaw dropping slightly in awe. She was stunning, more breathtaking than he had ever seen her before.

When she finally turned to face him, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of admiration and affection. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary as the intensity of their connection spoke volumes, filling the space between them with an electric energy that crackled with anticipation.

“Are you just going to sit there and gawk at me?” She asked, her tone light but teasing.

“Yes,” he replied without missing a beat, his gaze lingering on her with unapologetic admiration. A mock scowl crossed her features as she shook her head, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Well, stop it. You look stupid. Go put on your suit before we're late,” she instructed, her voice tinged with playful admonishment.

After dutifully adhering to her request and donning his suit, Lando returned to the kitchen to find her engrossed in replying to a few messages. With a tender smile, he approached her from behind, his footsteps silent against the floor.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access.

In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them cocooned in a bubble of affection. His touch was a soothing balm against the chaos of the day, grounding her in the present and reminding her of the love they shared. As he lingered against her, his arms holding her close, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. In his embrace, she found solace and reassurance

“I can't wait to do this with you for the rest of my life,” Lando whispered, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed into her eyes. A soft smile graced her lips as she met his gaze, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper but resounding with a depth of emotion that echoed his own.

In that fleeting moment, the weight of their words hung in the air, binding them together in a promise of forever. It was a declaration of their love, a pledge to stand by each other through every twist and turn that life may bring.

[1111jenx]

— synastry & composite charts notes💘🤍💘

navi: masterlist I — masterlist II hiii angels👼🏻it's been a while since my last astro post on here, thought I'd drop by with a lil surprise:) enjoy babes🤍

💘 8th house synastry: A deep and mystical connection, a dance of two souls intertwined. Undoubtedly, this has to be some of the most intense relationships I have observed, yet not necessarily in the way people might think. It goes beyond the surface, beyond the mundane, beyond the small-talk. Sex, death, and other's resources are only the tip of the iceberg. This is about transformation, rebirth, and regeneration. The 8th house is a place where secrets reside, and the planet person might unknowingly tap into that well of darkness within the 8th house person. It's a profound and sometimes frightening journey, but it's also one of the most transformative. The planet person, depending on which planet of theirs, entering the 8th house person's life can open them up like no other, exposing them to their deepest desires, fears, and longings.

If 4th house synastry is referred to as each other's soft spot, then 8th house synastry is each other's weak spot. Romantic or platonic, these relationships are often karmic, acting as a bind between the two individuals, for better or for worse. There's an unspoken depth that pervades the connection, a knowingness that transcends words. It's the ultimate "one stare is all it takes" kind of placement, where even a simple glance can send shivers down one's spine.

In the end, the 8th house synastry is not for the faint of heart, but for those who dare to delve into the mysteries of the soul, it's a journey worth taking. For it's in the darkness that we find the light, and it's in the intensity of these relationships that we find our true selves.

💘 Moon-Pluto aspects synastry/composite chart: If you've followed my blog for a while, you'll know that I don't strongly dislike any placement or aspect, for I believe we must observe the entire charts to draw conclusions before anything else. Yet, there is one aspect that leaves me in awe, time and time again: Moon-Pluto aspects in relationships. They speak of a connection that goes beyond the superficial, beyond the ordinary, beyond the mundane.

In the depths of their intimacy, there's a touch of mystery, a hint of secrecy, as if they share a bond that's known only to them. In the composite chart, this aspect can be a blessing, for it allows both parties to bare their souls in front of each other, to be raw and authentic, to embrace the vulnerability that comes with true connection.

But there's a caveat, for softer aspects such as the trine and sextile can approach this intimacy with a gentle touch, allowing the connection to grow slowly and steadily. Whereas the harsher aspects, the conjunctions, squares, and oppositions, may ignite a fire that burns bright and hot, causing one or both partners to be wary of the immense intensity that they feel.

Moon-Pluto aspects in relationships are definitely not for everyone, but they can lead to a transformation that's both profound and life-changing. These aspects symbolize a journey towards embracing one's innermost fears and desires, facing the shadows within oneself, and coming out on the other side with a newfound sense of strength and authenticity.

While it may be challenging, the rewards of such an experience can be tremendous. Through the intensity and rawness of the connection, one may find healing, growth, and a deep understanding of the human experience. It's a journey that requires courage, vulnerability, and a willingness to confront the unknown, but for those who embark on it, the rewards can be truly magnificent.

💘 Venus-Pluto aspects synastry: When Venus and Pluto align, their love burns with a fiery intensity, drawing them ever deeper into the mysteries of the heart. Pluto, with its insatiable hunger for truth and transformation, brings a potent energy to the table, stirring up a storm of questions and revelations.

Their relationship is a journey of discovery, a never-ending quest to uncover the hidden depths of each other's being. They crave knowledge of the past, eager to explore the shadows and secrets that have shaped their lives and their loves.

For them, love is a drug, a heady elixir that leaves them yearning for more. Their passion is all-consuming, a fierce and unyielding force that binds them together in ways that defy explanation.

Their obsession with each other is both beautiful and terrifying, a force that drives them to explore the depths of their connection, even as it challenges their preconceptions of what love truly means. But with every step they take together, they discover new facets of themselves and each other, delving ever deeper into the mysteries of the heart.

💘 Sun-Mars aspects synastry: The moment they meet, the attraction between them is electric, a spark that ignites a fire in their hearts. Soft aspects between their Sun and Mars create an effortless harmony, a sense of deep understanding and mutual support that draws them together with an irresistible force.

But for those with harsher aspects, their connection is a battlefield, a clash of egos that sparks tension and desire in equal measure. Sun and Mars are like two lions circling each other, each daring the other to make a move.

Their competitive spirits are brought out in full force, as they push each other to new heights of passion and desire. For Mars, the Sun is the ultimate challenge, a force to be reckoned with that can bring out the best - and worst - in them.

But through it all, there is a deep sense of respect and admiration, a recognition that they are two sides of the same coin, bound together by the fire that burns within them. Their love is a force to be reckoned with, a connection that challenges them to be their best selves and to embrace the full power of their passion and desire.

💘 Gemini Rising composite: Gemini Rising couple is a true delight, their energy infectious and their presence enchanting. They radiate a lightness and joy that fills the room, sparking lively conversations and bringing smiles to the faces of all those around them.

Their connection is a deep and profound one, built on a foundation of trust and open communication. They tell each other everything, sharing their hopes, dreams, fears, and secrets with a fearless abandon.

With their 3rd house in Leo, they embody a regal energy that commands attention and respect. Their style and energy are often very similar, a reflection of their deep connection and shared perspective on life.

Their reunion feels almost spiritual, a cosmic meeting of two souls destined to be together. One partner may take on the role of protector, fiercely guarding the other with a love that knows no bounds.

Despite their occasional heated moments, they speak of each other with the highest regard, always fearlessly protective of their partner's honor and dignity.

💘 Cancer Rising composite: This is one of my favorites, whether it's a romantic or platonic connection! They have a way of making it seem like they've known each other for ages, their bond so deep and comfortable that it feels like home.

They may bicker like siblings, but it's all in good fun - and it's clear that they love each other deeply. There's a sense of ease and familiarity that just makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

They can be in each other's company for hours without saying a word, content in the quiet and the simple pleasure of just being together. And when they do speak, they offer each other advice and guidance, especially when it comes to style and aesthetics.

There's something so special about this connection, something that just feels right. They may not have known each other for long, but it feels like they were always meant to be in each other's lives. They are the ultimate squad, the perfect team, and they bring so much joy and fun wherever they go.

💘 Leo Rising composite: This connection is fiercely possessive in the best way possible. They love to show their affection publicly and make it known to the world that they belong to each other. It's a feeling of pure belonging, an unbreakable bond that just feels so right.

It's one of the hardest relationships to let go of, a connection that just feels too good to be true. They radiate an air of perfection, and those around them can't help but be captivated by their dynamic. They may keep their relationship private once they've settled down, but when they're together, it's electric.

Their pain and struggles may be hidden from the outside world, but within their bond, they find solace and comfort in each other's arms. With Leo Rising in the composite, they were made for each other, their love a force to be reckoned with. And they love to spoil each other, showing off their love for the world to see.

💘 Libra Rising composite: This is the couple that everyone assumes has had a crush on each other since the day they met. There's just something about them that makes it so easy to tell that they were meant to be together. They have a natural ability to enhance each other's aesthetic and just make each other look even better.

When you see them in public, they come off as very friendly and approachable. They love to flirt with each other and with others, and they just exude a harmonious energy that draws people to them. They're like the parents of their group, always there to lend an ear and offer sage advice when others need it.

With Libra Rising in the composite, this couple radiates a unique energy that's impossible to ignore. People are drawn to them like moths to a flame, and they just look so good together. Depending on the composite Venus sign, they may have a more refined or eclectic style, but either way, they're always turning heads and making others green with envy.

💘 Leo placements composite: This is the ride or die couple that everyone wishes they had in their life. When I see this placement in a chart, I know that with time, there will be an unyielding loyalty between them that's hard to come by these days. Whether it's a romantic or platonic relationship, they exude confidence, playfulness, and above all, fun!

They're not afraid to argue or stand up for what they believe in, but what I love about Leo in composite is that they always have a deep respect for each other. It's almost like they know that at the end of the day, they're on the same team and nothing can break their bond.

For the platonic ones, they have a sibling-like energy that's just so endearing to witness. They'll have each other's back through thick and thin, and you know that they'll always be there to lift each other up when times get tough. Whether they're out on the town or just chilling at home, they radiate a sense of loyalty and camaraderie that's truly exciting to be around.

💘 Taurus placements composite: This placement evokes a sense of earthy Venusian intimacy, where mutual reliance and devotion reign supreme. They are like two rooted trees intertwined, weathering any storm that comes their way with steadfast support for each other. The sensuality they share is a true feast for the senses, with each touch and embrace sending shivers down their spines. Their connection is a thing of beauty, a symphony of love and sensuality that fills their hearts with warmth and contentment.

💘 Uranus 7th house composite: Long-distance and medium-distance relationships often display this pattern. While there is no set rule, this relationship style can be quite distinct. Depending on other astrological factors, they may contact each other spontaneously after long periods of silence. It is not uncommon for these relationships to have an undefined label, but the connection remains strong. This relationship is often characterized by a sense of telepathy.

💘 Uranus 5fth house composite: Couples with this placement breathe freedom. Their love is like a wildflower, unconfined by societal norms and conventions. Each partner allows the other to thrive in their own social circles and cherishes the moments of intimacy that come in unexpected bursts. Though their relationship may seem unconventional to some, it is a beautiful and unique expression of love that blooms and flourishes in its own way.

💘 Mars 12th house composite/synastry: This placement can be a bit tricky, as it can swing between playful banter and a more serious, spiritual connection. In the former, the couple may have a lighthearted approach to disagreements, perhaps avoiding confrontation and maintaining harmony. However, in the latter, this placement can signify a soulmate bond, a deep and meaningful connection that transcends the physical realm. Despite the challenges, these couples are able to navigate their differences and find a sense of peace and understanding in each other.

💘 Mars 8th house composite: Passion ignites and they are drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. They long for closeness, craving the touch of the other's skin, desiring to be in each other's embrace constantly. A fiery, intimate connection that is hard to resist. Beware of the green-eyed monster that may rear its head and cause strife in the relationship. But with the right alignment of Mars, a healing energy can emerge and transform the bond into an unbreakable bond of trust and devotion.

💘 Mercury 3rd house synastry: This is the kind of couple that is always laughing and having fun together. Their sense of humor is unmatched, and they just get each other on a whole different level. They can spend hours talking about anything and everything, from the trivial to the profound, and they never seem to run out of things to say.

Their intellectual connection is truly amazing, and they just have a way of understanding each other's minds that is truly unique. From discussing aliens to politics, they can handle any topic with ease and always keep each other engaged. It's a match made in heaven, and it's so much fun to watch them just enjoy each other's company.

💘 Mercury 5fth house synastry: Ah, one of my favorites! There's nothing like seeing two people who can laugh and have fun conversations with each other. It's like watching two stars colliding, creating a beautiful display of light and energy. The Mercury person is especially enamored with the Fifth House person's mind, finding it special and unique. They can't help but give them starry eyes as they speak. In turn, the Fifth House person finds Mercury's communication style to be very slick and attractive. It's a cosmic connection, a meeting of minds that is both fun and exciting.

💘 Mercury 8th house synastry: An intriguing and intense dynamic, often marked by a deep understanding and emotional support between the partners. The Mercury person has a unique insight into the innermost thoughts and desires of the 8th house person, particularly when it comes to matters of intimacy and vulnerability. There's a magnetic quality to their conversations, as they both crave depth and substance in their interactions. In this relationship, superficiality is simply not an option. Over time, the 8th house partner is drawn in by Mercury's irresistible charm and wit, and is willing to reveal their deepest secrets and desires. Mercury's words have a profound impact on the 8th house's psyche, making this placement a powerful indicator of a potential soulmate connection. And let's not forget the dirty talk potential, which adds an extra layer of seduction to this already alluring combination.

💘 Moon 4th house synastry: In each other's arms, they find a sense of peace, like they've finally come home. While their connection runs deep, they may also awaken memories of past hurts, drawing them closer in empathy and understanding. These are the ones who care for each other's every need, nurturing each other's physical and emotional well-being. In this loving embrace, they share both joy and sorrow, weaving a bond that feels like family and lingers in the heart forever.

💘 Moon 9th house synastry: Under the stars, this placement sings a love song of faith and trust, a bond that's hard to sever. Moon person's intuition finds a home in the open-minded, philosophical 9th house person, who in turn feels seen and heard in the presence of the Moon's nurturing embrace. Their love transcends boundaries, be it geographical or cultural, and their connection is not just supportive, but also unconditional. It's a love that validates and accepts all the thoughts, feelings, and ideas of their partner, a love that's both inspiring and uplifting.

💘 5fth house stellium composite: This placement is known for its potential to bring some baby fever to the table! When these two come together, it's like fireworks exploding and they can't get enough of each other. The relationship exudes a playful, childlike energy that is infectious to those around them. But be warned - this can also mean that their fights can be just as intense as their love, often stemming from their deep-seated jealousy. All in all, this is a pairing that's sure to leave a lasting impression.

💘 1st house stellium composite chart: Time seems to stand still as they hold each others hands. A union that feels like destiny, a long-awaited reunion of two halves of a whole. They speak a language of their own, finishing each other's thoughts and sentences effortlessly. Every touch, every caress, feels like a deeply profound connection. It's not just about physical intimacy, but an understanding that transcends the superficial. This is the soulmate energy, the kind of love that leaves them wondering, "Where have you been all my life?"

💘 Venus 2nd house synastry/composite: A romantic dance of give and take, this placement sings of love that is nurturing and indulgent. There is a deep need to shower each other with gifts and care, but caution must be taken not to let materialism overshadow their connection. They find joy in providing for one another, and both are lifted up by the other's affection and attention. Behind closed doors, their passion blossoms into a slow and steady burn, where sensual touches and intimate moments reign supreme.

💘 Venus 6th house synastry: Intriguingly, couples with this synastry seem to be entwined in a tapestry of love and affection. They have a knack for creating beauty in the mundane and infusing everyday life with romance. Their love story is not a fairy tale, but a practical one, with the two of them seamlessly integrating into each other's daily routines. They may even find joy in doing chores together. The 6th house partner adores Venus' constant mindfulness and dedication to them, making them feel appreciated and cherished in every moment.

💘 Venus 10th house synastry: In this synastry, a beautiful harmony blooms between two souls. They are each other's pillars of support, always standing by each other's side in times of success and failure. The 10th house person, taken aback by Venus's deep understanding of their goals and dreams, finds solace in their unconditional support. Venus, in turn, cherishes the 10th house person as a prized possession, basking in their admiration and attention. The house person's serious and committed approach to life appeals to Venus's heart, allowing them to thrive under their care. Together, they build a love that is grounded in mutual respect, support, and admiration.

💘 Scorpio Venus composite: In the realm of love, Scorpio's traditional Mars energy now meets the enchanting grace of Venus. A potent mix of complexity, passion, and challenge, this placement creates a bond that is both powerful and mysterious.

Couples with this placement share a deep obsession, not just on a physical level but also an emotional one. Their desire for each other is all-consuming, a deep-seated need to connect on every possible level. Eye contact is a potent tool for them, a way to communicate their desire and passion without saying a word.

Their love is shrouded in secrecy, a relationship that's known only to the two of them. Their feelings run deep, but they may not be expressed at first, requiring time and patience to unfold.

As their connection deepens, they become more and more entwined, their bond unbreakable and unwavering. For both parties, this love will challenge their preconceptions of what love truly means and requires, but the rewards of true connection are worth every step of the journey.

💘 Virgo Venus composite: Their love is a journey of growth and self-discovery, a path that's filled with endless possibility and wonder. They are both committed to learning and evolving, constantly pushing each other to be the best version of themselves.

Their love is reminiscent of Scorpio Venus, with its unsaid feelings and profound depth, but it's also uniquely its own. For them, love is not just about passion and intensity, but about the simple and peaceful moments that make life worth living.

In their relationship, they discover that love can be found in the small things, in the gentle gestures and quiet moments of connection. They remind us that love is not just about the grand gestures or dramatic displays of affection, but about the everyday acts of kindness that we show each other.

Their love story is one that's hard to forget, a testament to the power of gentle love and the beauty of finding someone who truly understands and accepts us for who we are. They remind us that love is not just about what we say or do, but about who we are and how we show up for each other, day after day.

💘 Cancer Moon composite: Their love is a haven, a sanctuary in a world that can often feel chaotic and uncertain. They create a space for each other that's safe and secure, a place where they can be vulnerable and authentic without fear of judgment or rejection.

In each other's presence, they find solace and comfort, a feeling of coming home that's both familiar and reassuring. They understand each other on a level that goes beyond words, their hearts and souls intertwined in a dance that's both beautiful and sacred.

Emotions are shared freely in this space, for they know that true connection requires the courage to be vulnerable and the willingness to listen with an open heart. They hold space for each other's pain and joy, their love serving as a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

For them, love is also an anchor, a tether to the world that keeps them grounded and centered. They remind us that in a world that's constantly changing, the one constant we can rely on is the love that we share with those closest to us. It's a love that transcends the ordinary, a love that's both unique and eternal.

💘 Sagittarius Moon composite: They are more than just lovers, they are best friends, their bond rooted in a deep and authentic connection that transcends the ordinary. They share a rare and beautiful kind of love, one that's built on a foundation of laughter, growth, and exploration.

They are each other's biggest cheerleaders, pushing each other to become the best version of themselves and encouraging each other to explore the depths of their potential. Together, they find joy in the pursuit of higher learning, embracing the world with open hearts and curious minds.

Their love is a journey of discovery, one that's filled with new experiences and adventures, one that makes you feel alive. They indulge in the magic of the world together, savoring each moment with a sense of wonder and excitement. Despite their need for individual freedom, they never tire of each other's company.

They remind us that the best kind of love is one that's rooted in friendship, in a deep and authentic connection that goes beyond the superficial. For in the heart of true friendship lies the key to unlocking the full potential of the human experience.

💘 Aquarius Moon composite: Their relationship is built on a foundation of mutual respect and understanding, a deep appreciation for each other's unique qualities and preferences. They're both highly idealistic emotionally, driven by big dreams and a desire to make a difference in the world.

In their partnership, they recognize each other's potential and provide unwavering support and encouragement to help each other achieve their goals. They approach matters of the heart with a sense of clarity and precision, able to articulate their emotions in a way that's both logical and deeply felt.

Their love is a journey of discovery and growth, one that requires patience, dedication, and a willingness to see the world through each other's eyes. They understand that a healthy relationship requires a deep sense of empathy and the ability to communicate effectively, even in times of stress or conflict.

For them, love is not just a feeling, but a choice, a commitment to each other's growth and well-being. They remind us that a successful relationship requires hard work and dedication, but that the rewards of true love are worth every effort.

💘 Ascendant 10th house synastry: Mutual admiration is the foundation of their connection, a deep and genuine appreciation for each other that goes beyond surface-level attraction. They may have met in a public setting, amidst the noise and chaos of the world around them, but their hearts were drawn together in a way that felt inevitable.

Perhaps they had heard about each other before their encounter, but it was in that moment that they truly saw each other for who they were. Two individuals, each with their own unique qualities, coming together in a way that felt natural and effortless.

In each other's presence, the world falls away, and they're left with a deep and profound connection that speaks to the power of true chemistry. They remind us that sometimes, the most meaningful connections can be found in the most unexpected of places, and that it's the quality of the connection that matters most.

💘 Ascendant 11th house synastry: There's a magic that surrounds them, a feeling of ease that envelops them from the moment they meet. Conversations flow effortlessly between them, like a gentle stream meandering through the forest, each thought and idea sparking a new connection. They find a friend in each other, someone who understands them on a deep and profound level.

In the 11th house, they find a higher ideal, a connection that transcends the ordinary and reaches for the stars. They've found their "ideal type," a partner who shares their values, their passions, and their dreams. It's a feeling of coming home, of finding someone who sees the world through the same lens.

This placement also signifies the power of online encounters, a reminder that connections can be made in the most unexpected of places. They may have met through the digital realm, but their bond is as real and tangible as any other.

Together, they embody the beauty of true connection, of finding someone who understands and accepts them for who they are. They remind us that the world is full of magic and wonder, and that sometimes, all we need to do is open our hearts to find it.

💘 Sun in 1st house composite: Their love is a force of nature, a vibrant and pulsating energy that radiates from their very being. To them, the relationship means everything, and they pour their hearts and souls into tending and perfecting it. They're like two flames dancing together, their attraction burning brightly, igniting the world around them.

In each other's embrace, they find a home, a place of safety and belonging. They bring out the best in each other, inspiring and motivating one another to be the best version of themselves. They're like two sides of the same coin, perfectly complementing each other, and yet each unique in their own way.

In the presence of this couple, others cannot help but feel the intensity of their love. It's a love that's all-encompassing, leaving no room for anyone else. They are inseparable, two halves of a whole, their energy intertwining in a dance that's both beautiful and mesmerizing.

They're a super expressive couple, unafraid to show their true selves to the world. Their love is unapologetic and raw, a testament to the power of vulnerability and authenticity. They remind us that love is not just a feeling, but a choice, a commitment, and a journey of growth and self-discovery.

💘 Sun in 7th house composite: Together, they are a symphony of souls, each note blending seamlessly into the other, creating a melody that resonates with the universe. It's a rare and beautiful thing to witness, for they complement each other in ways that go beyond words. From what I observe, these couples see a future with each other, a future that's intertwined with love, trust, and commitment.

Even if they don't express it outwardly, there's an unspoken bond that ties them together, a feeling of wanting to keep the other close that's ever-present. Publicly, they strive to be the "ideal couple," one that's admired and emulated, and they're often sought after for their relationship advice.

But there's a seriousness to this placement, a need to formalize things with time, to solidify their commitment to each other. They understand that relationships are not built on fleeting moments, but on the foundation of trust, communication, and dedication. And they're willing to put in the work to make it last.

In this partnership, there's also a desire to grow individually, to bring more to the table, to be the best version of themselves for each other. For they know that in committing to each other, they're committing to a journey of growth, of becoming, of evolving together.

The themes of commitment and trust run deep in this placement, anchoring them to each other with an unbreakable bond. For they know that in each other's embrace, they've found a home for their hearts.

love,

saint jenx🪐

© 2023 Saintz Jenx All Rights Reserved

[xenteaart]

when you're feeling weak, i'll be the words if you can't speak

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but it can fit any au, really) genre/warnings: er, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suffering w depression and anxiety. reader is feeling off and insecure. also kinda going almost non verbal author's note: a short lil songfic ig coz it's inspired by Isak Danielson – I Can't Lose You. basically channie being a comfort boyfie material

to put it simply, you were never not anxious or insecure. but stepping into the big adult life, you sort of learned to conceal it well, even from your own self. the fake it till you make it thing, and you could even say you've "made it" with a small exception of the days where your brain and your entire nervous system randomly circled back to your default settings. "so what are you gonna eat, baby?" chan asks with a cheerful soft tone, glancing over the menu and then back at you.

today's a good day. you haven't been too overwhelmed with work, nothing out of the ordinary happened. so naturally, a pinch of guilt somewhere deep in your guts makes you feel like a bother to be around, and today — for no good reason.

"are you okay?" he notices your slightly spaced out gaze when you're trying to read the menu but not really reading, more like frowning and getting nervous.

"yeah.. no. no, i don't know," you murmur barely audibly, losing your focus for the tenth time in a span of the last five minutes. brain fog takes over, making your vision blurrier than normal and your thinking all floaty and hazy. as if you're looking at the world through dirty lenses, but also the lights are too bright and your surroundings are loud.

"i dunno, i just..." can't even speak for myself today and choose a meal and say it out loud because suddenly everything is embarrassing and difficult.

chris looks slightly worried because you might be in pain or feeling unwell, but nothing hurts except your pride. because you're a big girl, you have been for years, and now you want to cry on the spot because you can't choose between pasta and soup all of a sudden. it makes you feel even more stupid.

"can you please choose and order for me today? my brain just can't," you try to explain, visibly stressed and overwhelmed by a simple mundane task, "i want somethin' warm and filling," you specify to make it easier for chan.

he doesn't make a big deal out of it, just nods and meets you with a gentle 'course, baby. he then talks to the waiter and makes sure they don't ask you anything which feels like a relief. sometimes it's nice to feel invisible, especially in a vulnerable state.

after the horrifying deed is over with, chris leans in a little closer to be able to speak in a softer, quieter voice.

"d'you wanna just have dinner in silence and head home?" he asks while massaging your palm with his fingers soothingly, so calm and nonchalant as if you didn't just obsess over the smallest thing to the point of making yourself filled with shame and insecurity.

that's how chris always does it. by showing you that whatever it is that's bothering you is not a burden to him. he's got you. it's okay if you want or rather need him to do something for you. he's happy to be your strong shoulder to lean onto and not think about a single thing while he takes care of whatever it is at the time.

"yeah. or you can tell me about your day and stuff. i wanna know and i'm okay with listening. just not... responding, maybe?" you give him an awkward smile as he nods understandingly and plants a little kiss on the back of your hand. a modern gentleman and a caring lover.

somewhere in the middle of a story about how cubase was lagging and almost crashed mid producing session today, the waiter brings your meals. it's two pumpkin cream soups, some grilled and seasoned breads and a fresh greek salad to share.

oh, to be loved like this.

your stomach growls at the smell of food, and a bright proud smile is instantly painted over chan's features.

[lizzyiii]

hi i was just wondering when the next chapter of his lady love will come out? it's an amazing story and i have not found anything else like it im obsessed!!👉🏻👈🏻☺️

heyyy....

His Lady Love (12)

pairing I aemond x vampire!mikaelson!reader taglist I to be added to the tag list just add your username to this DOC word count | 3.8k words summary I aemond has kept his distance from you since your secret. you discover something about helaena and distance between you and aemond grows further as he confesses a secret just to hurt you

tags | ANGST, ANGST, oh and more ANGST. temporary break up??? pregnancy mention. note I uhhh hi. so explanation - I graduated high school and there's no time to actually enjoy summer because this girl is broke. so I got a job for the very first time in my life, yeah, that and i fell into a rami malek dark hole and accidentally wrote an 80k word josh washington fanfic

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

Aemond retreated into himself after your confession, his cold silence heavier than any words he could have spoken.

The weight of your secrets hung between you, and his refusal to meet your eyes only amplified the crushing sense of rejection that echoed in your chest.

"I need time," he had said, but all you heard was rejection, rejection, rejection—a refrain that cut deeper than any blade could.

The days that followed passed in a blur of quiet torment, each tick of the clock marking the growing distance between you and Aemond. You found yourself in Helaena’s company more than ever.

She was a balm for your wounded soul, her gentle presence a rare comfort in the storm of your mind. It was with her that you could breathe, the children a welcome distraction from the chaos within you.

As you sat beside Helaena, the needle threading through the fabric of your embroidery, you allowed your thoughts to drift elsewhere.

Your fingers moved almost mechanically, following the familiar rhythm of the stitches as your mind wandered to the shadows you had left behind.

But no matter how hard you tried to lose yourself in the mundane task, your heart never stopped aching. Aemond's words, his retreat, followed you like a shadow.

You wondered, briefly, if it was selfish to want him to stay, to want him to understand you when you had already caused so much pain in your lifetime.

Helaena’s soft voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "What’s troubling you?" she said gently, her eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored your own.

You paused, the needle hovering above the fabric as you hesitated. "Everything," you whispered, not knowing where to start, or if you even could. "But mostly... Aemond." Your words were fragile, as if speaking his name would shatter whatever thread of hope remained between you.

Helaena gave you a soft, understanding smile, though there was a trace of sorrow in her eyes. "He’ll return to you when he’s ready. Aemond is not like the others. He carries more than he shows."

You nodded, though skepticism clouded your expression. Helaena’s words were always laced with a strange wisdom, one that seemed to come from somewhere beyond this world.

You already knew that the Targaryens were no ordinary humans—there was fire and magic in their blood—but Helaena... Helaena was different. Her aura was otherworldly, almost prophetic, and it made you both trust her and fear her answers.

"Helaena," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the room. Her light, lilac-hued eyes turned to you, dreamy and distant, yet wholly focused on you. "How do you see this ending?"

She blinked slowly, tilting her head in question. "You and Aemond?" she asked, her tone curious but kind.

You shook your head, "No," you whispered. "The war."

Helaena’s gaze drifted away, her attention drawn to the small cages on the table beside her, where her insects scuttled and fluttered.

She furrowed her brows, her lips pressing into a thin line as she contemplated your question.

Finally, she spoke, her voice slow and deliberate, each word dripping with an ominous certainty. "No one will win. It is inevitable. All it will succeed in doing is leading the Targaryens to become... extinct."

The words sent a chill through you, colder than any winter wind. You stared at her, searching for any sign of hope in her expression, but there was none.

Her gaze remained fixed on her insects, her hands idly tending to them as if the weight of her revelation meant nothing.

Your throat tightened, "Extinct?" you echoed, your voice cracking with disbelief.

Helaena nodded solemnly. "Dragons cannot thrive in a house divided. Fire turns on itself, consuming everything in its path until only ash remains." She looked at you then, her eyes piercing despite their faraway quality. "It is our nature to destroy. And so, we will be destroyed."

The silence that followed was oppressive, a heavy pall that settled over the room.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing against the inevitability of her words. "Is there not a way to fix all of this?" you asked softly, setting your embroidery aside.

"I don't know," Helaena murmured, her tone tinged with regret. Suddenly, she winced, clutching her stomach as a flicker of pain crossed her face.

You immediately leaned forward, concern etched across your features. "What’s wrong?" you asked, your voice steady but laced with urgency.

Helaena exhaled shakily, her hand still pressed to her abdomen. "I... I’ve been feeling unwell these past moons," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your brow furrowed as you stood, moving closer to her. "Have you not spoken to the Maesters?" you asked, your tone edged with frustration.

She shook her head faintly. "They are all busy attending to Aegon," she replied.

Reaching out, you placed the back of your hand gently against her forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch—no fever, no signs of sickness.

Still, something was wrong. You focused, your senses sharpening as you attuned yourself to her body, listening for any irregularities.

Your eyes widened as you caught it: a faint but distinct sound, a rhythm that wasn’t her own. Your breath caught, and you stepped back slightly, staring at her with newfound realization.

"What is it?" Helaena murmured, her tone both curious and cautious as she noticed the change in your expression.

You hesitated for a moment, then spoke softly, your voice laden with wonder and a touch of disbelief. "I listened to your body," you said, your words careful and deliberate. Your gaze drifted downward, settling on her stomach. "And I hear two heartbeats."

Helaena blinked, her lips parting in a quiet gasp. "Oh," she muttered, her hands instinctively moving to cradle her abdomen. Realization dawned in her lilac eyes, and she whispered again, this time with more weight, "Oh."

Without thinking, you kneeled before her, your hands gently resting on her lap. “Helaena,” you began cautiously, your voice barely above a whisper, “when last did you... lay with Aegon?”

Her expression tightened in distaste as she wracked her memory. “Aegon made use of me,” she said bitterly, “that night of the last supper.”

“The last supper?” you repeated, your brow furrowing as you tried to place the moment. And then it struck you—the supper when all the Targaryens had gathered, Viserys’ final attempt to unite his fractured family. The night before everything began to crumble. “Oh,” you breathed, the word heavy with understanding.

Helaena’s eyes turned glassy, her gaze distant. “Having a babe during a war is a bad omen,” she murmured, her voice filled with a quiet, resigned sorrow.

“Or,” you said softly, reaching for her hands and covering them with your own, “it could be a good one. A babe symbolizes life. Hope.” You offered her the warmest smile you could muster, though the shadow of unease lingered in your own heart.

“They shall be fine,” you promised, your voice firm despite the chaos you knew was to come. “You shall protect them.”

Helaena stared at you for a long moment, her wide, lilac eyes flickering with unspoken fears and fragile faith.

Her hands tightened around yours, and finally, she shook her head, her voice trembling. “I could not protect Jaehaerys.”

Her words were a blade to the heart, but you refused to falter. “And that is why I am here,” you said firmly, your voice laced with quiet determination. “To protect you. To protect them. All three of you.” You paused, catching your mistake, then softly added, “Four.”

A faint, hesitant smile flickered across her lips, fragile but genuine. You tried to match it, but your sharp hearing interrupted the moment.

Your brows furrowed as a distant sound reached your ears—wings, massive and powerful, cutting through the air. You rose swiftly, striding toward the balcony with purpose.

The sight that greeted you stole your breath. A dragon, light and unfamiliar, soared above King’s Landing, its wings slicing the air like a predator circling its prey. Its immense shadow fell over the Red Keep as it flew past, the sight both majestic and foreboding.

Helaena joined you on the balcony, her expression dreamy yet tinged with concern. Her gaze followed the dragon as it disappeared into the horizon.

“Whose dragon is that?” you asked, your voice low but urgent. “I don’t recognize it.”

Helaena tilted her head slightly, her tone distant but sure. “It’s not ours,” she murmured, her hands lightly gripping the railing. “And it is not one of Rhaenyra’s, either. It must be one of the unclaimed dragons of Dragonstone.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, a faint frown pulling at the corners of your mouth. “Well, it’s not unclaimed anymore,” you said dryly, though your words carried an undercurrent of unease.

Before Helaena could respond, a mighty roar echoed through the skies, deep and reverberating. The sound cut through the air like a blade, making your head snap toward the source.

Your sharp senses picked up what came next before your mortal eyes could: **Vhagar** rising into the heavens, her ancient wings spreading wide, her silhouette monstrous against the fading sunlight.

And atop her sat Aemond.

“No,” you breathed, your chest tightening with dread as you leaned forward, gripping the balcony railing. Vhagar’s great wings flapped, her movement deliberate, as she veered toward the distant horizon. Toward Dragonstone. Toward the mysterious dragon.

Helaena’s voice broke through your haze, soft and detached. “Vhagar will not falter. But Aemond…” She trailed off, her brows knitting faintly as though seeing something only she could. “He seeks dominance, but it may bring ruin.”

You gripped the railing tighter, your nails digging into the stone. Her cryptic words did little to soothe the storm in your chest.

The hours stretched endlessly, a gnawing worry festering in your undead heart. You had long left Helaena's chambers, not wanting to subject her to the tumult of your thoughts.

Instead, you roamed the castle halls, your pacing restless and your mind racing, oblivious to the leering gazes that followed your every move.

A pointed clearing of a throat brought you out of your thoughts. Turning, your eyes landed on Lord Larys Strong, limping toward you with that infuriatingly smug expression that seemed permanently etched on his face.

His head dipped in a mockery of respect. "Lady Mikaelson," he greeted, his voice as smooth as it was insidious.

"Lord Strong," you replied curtly, your tone clipped, your patience already wearing thin.

Despite your disdain, you knew better than to dismiss him outright. Larys Strong was the keeper of whispers, his ears always first to catch the murmurs that mattered.

You approached him warily, your voice low. “Do you know of Prince Aemond’s whereabouts?”

Larys tilted his head, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Worried, are you?"

The polite mask you had been forcing dropped immediately, your eyes narrowing into sharp slits. “Why wouldn’t I be concerned about the Prince Regent?”

His smirk widened, his gaze uncomfortably probing. “Yes, yes, of course. Especially given... your intimate relationship with him.”

Your lips pressed into a hard line, your jaw tightening at his insinuation. You loathed how he delivered the words with such deliberate emphasis, knowing well how the court gossiped about you.

You were no stranger to their whispers—Lady Mikaelson, now whispered about as the prince’s concubine.

Stepping closer, you allowed the faintest edge of your vampire nature to seep into your demeanor. Your eyes glinted dangerously, your voice dropping to a silk-lined threat. "Careful, Lord Strong. Tongues like yours have a way of getting bitten."

Larys raised his hands in mock surrender, though the satisfaction in his eyes only grew. “A thousand pardons, my lady. I meant no offense.”

You leaned back, your glare unwavering. “If you have nothing of use to share, then spare me your presence.”

As you turned, ready to leave the conversation behind, his voice slid after you like a poison-laced whisper. “Sharp Point.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your brow furrowing in confusion. You turned back to him, your voice dripping with skepticism. “Excuse me?”

Lord Larys, sensing the shift in your mood, adopted a more somber expression, almost as if he were doing you a favor by sharing such information. “The pretender Queen, Rhaenyra, has found three new riders for her dragons.”

A flicker of realization sparked within you, understanding the true identity of the dragon you’d seen earlier. You straightened, the tension in your body tightening as Larys continued.

“Prince Aemond flew out to challenge her. And when his eyes fell on Dragonstone, he fled in terror, or so the rumors say.” He paused, watching you for any reaction. “And after that? He let loose his fury upon Sharp Point, razing the whole town to the ground.”

A sickened breath escaped you, your heart racing in your chest as you absorbed the weight of his words. “No…”

Larys nodded, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Yes. It’s true. Quite the display of anger, I hear. I would think it would be most frightening to find yourself in the presence of such a man. Dangerous, even, for a lady such as yourself.”

A slow, predatory fury began to unfurl inside you, and your eyes darkened with a mix of disbelief and contempt. How dare he insinuate that Aemond would ever turn his wrath upon you, let alone lay a hand on you.

But before you could retaliate, your heightened senses caught the distant sound of wings—a powerful, unmistakable beat that stirred the air around you.

Aemond had returned.

You turned sharply toward the sound, your pulse quickening. The fear that had gnawed at you now shifted into something else entirely: an unrelenting need for the truth.

You stormed into Aemond’s chambers, the heavy door slamming shut behind you, your steps echoing like thunder. He was there, standing at the edge of the balcony, the dim light of dusk framing him in shadow.

His silver hair caught the faint glow of the moon, but his back remained rigid, unyielding. You desperately hoped the whispers weren’t true, yet the ash smudging his tunic filled you with dread.

His actions reminded you far too much of the cruelty you had fled from—Niklaus, in one of his darkest moments.

“I waited hours for you, Aemond. Hours,” you began, your voice sharp with the tension that had built inside you all day.

He didn’t turn, didn’t so much as flinch, his voice cold and distant. “You need not concern yourself with where I go, or with my choices.”

That cold indifference stung more than it should have, yet it only fueled your anger. Your eyes narrowed, the fire within you rising. “I do concern myself, Aemond. Especially when you leave without a word, and come back covered in ash, with a storm of rumors following in your wake.”

He moved then, slowly, deliberately, turning to face you. His single eye, colder than you’d ever seen it, locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt as though he was a stranger. “I didn’t ask for your concern,” he said, his tone biting, cutting straight to the bone.

You inhaled sharply, your frustration boiling over. “And yet here I am, concerned,” you snapped, stepping closer, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “I know you, Aemond. I know fear when I see it. You are not above it, no matter how you might pretend otherwise.”

His voice was dark, dangerously calm as he spoke, “Do not pretend to know me. You know nothing of who I am—not truly. You’re too busy hiding your own monstrous truth to see anything clearly.”

The words struck, sharp as Valyrian steel. You ignored the pang of hurt that lanced through you, straightening as you took a step toward him, your voice sharp and unrelenting.

“Hiding my truth? You think I’m the monster here? What of you, Aemond? You destroyed an entire town. You burned it to the ground, tore it apart like it was nothing. That wasn’t strategy. That wasn’t wisdom. That was rage. Unbridled, destructive rage you refuse to face.”

“Do not preach to me,” he growled, his voice low and venomous, his eye narrowing with contempt. “You stand there, self-righteous, speaking of things you do not understand. You may have lived centuries, yet you are no better than the rest of us. You have blood on your hands, the same as anyone else.”

You inhaled sharply, steadying yourself, though your voice betrayed none of the hurt simmering beneath. “I never wanted this life, Aemond. But I’ve accepted it. I know what I am. But you—you wear your anger like a crown, as if it grants you dominion. You think fire and blood will bring you peace? It won’t. It never does.”

His expression twisted in offense, his voice rising. “You dare speak to me of peace, when you know none yourself?”

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, your tone sharp and unwavering. “I have peace in knowing who I am. I have peace in knowing that no matter what the world throws at me, no matter how much it tries to break me, I stand. But you… You’re just a boy, Aemond. A boy pretending to be a king.”

His eye flickered, his jaw tightening as he looked away, gesturing toward the door with finality. “Enough. I will not stand here and listen to this.”

You sighed, your lips trembling, but your voice was as sharp and unyielding. “But you shall.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides. Then, with a coldness that cut deeper than any blade, he said, “Do you know when I last felt peace? When I went to the Blue Pearl.”

The words struck like a thunderclap. Your breath caught, sharp and sudden, as you stared at him, searching for some sign that this was a cruel jest. “What?” you whispered, the word barely audible.

He took a deliberate step toward you, his tone chillingly indifferent, almost mocking. “You heard me. When I thought you were gone—when I thought I’d never see you again, when you left me with nothing but questions and a shattered heart—I sought comfort elsewhere.”

There was a flicker of something in his eye—regret, anger, defiance?—before his lips curled into a faint, cruel smirk. “There. Now I’ve hurt you as you've hurt me.”

You froze, his words slicing through you like dragonfire. Your mind spiraled with unbidden thoughts, primal urges—rip out his heart, tear his throat with your teeth, leave him broken and bleeding as his words had left you.

But instead, you stood there, unyielding, forcing the tears brimming in your eyes to stay put.

Blinking them away, a hollow, bitter laugh escaped your lips, raw and filled with disbelief. “Hurt me,” you echoed, the words dripping with venom.

You studied him, the man you had once believed you understood, the one you had allowed yourself to care for despite your nature. How quickly the tides could turn. Only yesterday, you were in bliss, Aemond’s arms a sanctuary.

And now, here he stood, confessing how he had lain with a whore in your absence, mocking the bond you thought you shared.

Your voice was low, trembling with suppressed fury. “How utterly predictable of you, Aemond. To nurse your wounds with spite and call it vengeance. You speak of broken hearts, but you—” you stepped closer, your voice rising, “—are the one who destroys everything you touch with your pride and your anger.”

He flinched, but his resolve didn’t waver, his gaze meeting yours with an icy defiance.

You inhaled slowly, steadying yourself. If he sought a reaction, he would not have it—not the one he wanted, at least. “I never wanted to be the one to hurt you,” you murmured, your voice soft but unyielding as you looked away.

His presence, the very sight of him, sickened you. “I told you who I am because I thought it would bring us closer. I thought you, of all people, would understand.”

You paused, letting the silence stretch and coil between you like a serpent. “And now I see it was all for naught. You cannot be saved, Aemond. And I shall not endeavor to try.”

Your words hung in the air, sharp and final. You turned to leave, your steps slow and deliberate, each one heavy with the weight of your disappointment. But just as your hand reached for the door, his voice stopped you.

It was different now—no longer cold and cutting, but softer, laced with something almost resembling regret. “I did not say you could leave.”

His words halted you momentarily, your back still turned to him. You closed your eyes, drawing in a deep, steadying breath before replying, your tone soft yet cutting.

“But your actions have,” you whispered. “Why be together when all we’ve done is hurt each other, yes?”

The silence that followed was deafening. And with that, you walked away, your steps resolute, leaving Aemond standing in the shadow of his own choices.

You didn’t look back, though every part of you ached to do so. Instead, you left the room, the door shutting softly behind you—a sound that felt louder than any scream.

A/N — I'm going to be writing out of my ASS from now on, maybe including a teeny tiny bit of the f&b material, even though to me book Aemond and show Aemond are completely different, but ciao

those who couldn't be tagged are in bold :(

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[itacats]

Butcher Shop Connection

FT: Simon x gn!reader

Warnings: DV, abuse, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

SUM: Weeks without contact had worn Simon down, leaving him adrift in worry and helplessness. His routine at the butcher shop, once comforting, now felt hollow without you. When you finally appeared—with Tom looming behind you—Simon’s protective instincts surged. The interaction between the three of you was tense, every moment charged with unspoken desperation. Despite the fear in your eyes, Simon’s determination solidified: he would find a way to help you escape.

A/N: This chapter is heavy with tension and restraint. Simon’s internal struggle between wanting to act and knowing he can’t risk making things worse mirrors the quiet strength of his character. Meanwhile, your subtle plea for help highlights the immense bravery it takes to reach out while under Tom’s control. A napkin—so simple yet so meaningful—becomes a symbol of hope, a thread connecting Simon to you in this dark moment. The stakes are rising, and Simon’s resolve to help is unwavering. Hold tight—this story is just getting started. 🌌

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 6 - A Fragile Lifeline

The weeks without a word from you had worn Simon down, each day stretching longer than the last. It was as though your absence had carved out a hollow space in his chest, a dull, gnawing ache that refused to fade. Every morning, the quiet hum of the butcher shop felt emptier, the smell of fresh cuts and the rhythmic sound of knives on meat suddenly lacking their usual comfort. He thought of you constantly—how you had smiled, how you had laughed, how your presence had brought light into the mundane routines of his life. And now, without you, everything felt heavier.

He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that had taken root. There had been days when the thought of going to the police had been a constant undercurrent, but each time he considered it, a sharp pang of doubt held him back. What would it change? Would they even believe her? Would it escalate things further? His mind ran in circles, the scenarios of confrontation, or even redemption, playing out in endless loops. But with each passing day, those scenarios remained just that—empty imaginings, no action. Just waiting. Waiting for you to come back.

It was an ordinary day at the shop when the door chimed. The soft, familiar sound normally wouldn't draw much attention, but today it did. Simon turned his head, his heart jumping in his chest when he saw you. There you were, standing just inside the door, a shadow of the vibrant person he remembered. Your face was pale, drawn tight with worry, your eyes avoiding his gaze as if afraid to meet it. And behind you? Tom. That vile, possessive figure standing close behind you, a dark energy wrapping around you like a suffocating fog.

Every instinct Simon had screamed at him to act. To grab the nearest knife, to confront Tom, to break the control he could see so clearly in the way Tom held you. The way you moved under his influence, the way your posture sagged, defeated and submissive. It made Simon’s blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to tear Tom away from you, like a butcher working through meat, to end this torment. He pictured himself with the sharp gleam of a blade, but even as that vision flickered in his mind, the cold logic of restraint held him back. No, he couldn’t do that—not here, not now. Not yet.

Tom sauntered to the counter, his smirk wide and self-assured, while you remained a silent presence, lost in the gravity of his control. Simon felt his eyes flick to you, watching as you shifted from foot to foot, too quiet, too withdrawn, as if trying to shrink into yourself to escape attention. But Simon couldn’t stop watching you. He could see it—the weight of everything you’d endured in your posture, the subtle tremble in your hands. It tore at him.

Tom waved a hand dismissively, not even acknowledging Simon beyond his businesslike tone. "You gonna grab those meats for us, Buddy?" The words were patronizing, dripping with entitlement, and Simon’s grip tightened on the edge of the counter.

You were still lost in your mind, your thoughts far away from the scene unfolding before you. That’s when Simon couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward, slow but deliberate, his body fighting against the need to flee, to act, to shout out. He reached for the meat, his hands steady despite the chaos roiling inside him. The moment was surreal, everything so still, so calm—until it wasn’t. He finished cutting the meats and extended them to you, his fingers brushing against the cool, wrapped packages, but before you could take them, Tom’s hand shot out and snatched them away with a swift motion.

"They can pay," Tom declared, his voice dripping with smug ownership. He glared at Simon as if daring him to challenge him, before turning toward you. His hand landed possessively on your back, pushing you forward towards the register with a casual gesture that made Simon’s stomach churn. "I’ll be outside, dearest," Tom added, his tone dripping with a kind of false sweetness that made Simon’s blood run cold.

As you followed Tom’s direction, head down, shoulders slumped in quiet defeat, Simon’s mind raced. It was all too clear to him now—the power Tom wielded over you, the way you barely resisted. Simon’s fists clenched involuntarily, the heat of his anger rising with each step 

You hesitated, torn between the overwhelming fear that anchored you in place and the instinctual pull to seek help. The pressure of Tom’s presence, so close behind you, loomed like a weight on your chest, and yet something inside you still wanted to reach out. You could feel the heaviness of the moment, the quiet desperation that hung between you and Simon. As much as you knew that any wrong move could send Tom into a fury, the urge to connect, to grasp onto any sliver of safety, was undeniable.

Simon, ever perceptive, had his eyes locked with yours. In that brief exchange, you could see something—a flicker of determination beneath his usual nonchalance. He wasn’t going to let this moment slip away. Not like this. His breath quickened, his hand slightly trembling as he leaned in closer, careful not to draw Tom’s attention too much.

“Don’t worry about it. Just take this,” Simon murmured, his voice low but insistent, as he shoved a napkin toward you across the counter. His movements were rushed, almost frantic, and his heart hammered in his chest as he quickly scribbled his phone number. It wasn’t neat or elegant, but the scrawl was undeniably his—a promise in ink, a lifeline for you to grasp if you needed it. The act felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but in that moment, it was everything.

You reached for the napkin, your fingers brushing the cool paper, but your voice—hoarse, tight—cut through the air. “I need a receipt,” you said, the words coming out broken, like they were clawing their way through your throat. "Or he’s going to think I did something for—or rather to— you for the meat to be free."

The confession hit Simon like a punch to the gut. He felt a wave of helplessness crash over him, cold and bitter, as he realized the weight of what you were enduring. The fear, the manipulation, the isolation. His stomach turned as he tried to steady his breathing. But even in the midst of this, he found himself still trying to be practical, to do something that might make the smallest difference.

He quickly wrote up a receipt, his hand shaking slightly, his mind reeling with thoughts of how to get you out, how to protect you. When he finished, he slid it across to you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. He didn’t trust his voice to speak, so instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, sliding it over the counter to cover the cost. It felt like nothing—no price could ever make up for what you had suffered, for what Tom had stolen from you. Still, it was all he could offer in this moment, and it was wrapped in the concern and helplessness that burned within him.

“Take the napkin and hide it,” Simon urged, his voice thick, barely above a whisper. He couldn’t risk Tom’s gaze catching him too intently, not now. “Call that number if you need me. For anything.”

You nodded, carefully tucking the napkin away as if it were a fragile thing, a thread of hope that could unravel the darkness around you. It wasn’t much, but in that brief moment, it felt like the only connection between two people caught in a world they couldn’t escape from. A lifeline, fragile as it was.

As you turned to leave with Tom, Simon watched you go, feeling that familiar ache in his chest. He didn’t know if he’d ever see you again. In the weeks that followed, he caught glimpses of your face in the crowd, flickers of you as passing customers came through the butcher shop, and each time, it felt like a ghost, a shadow of the person he had come to care about. He would hear echoes of your laugh in the steady rhythm of his work, memories of moments shared, fleeting glimpses of a life he hoped you could have.

But Tom never relented. He kept you locked in his grip, always lurking just beyond Simon’s reach, and Simon couldn’t do anything more than wait and watch as the world around him continued to spin, unsure of where you were and whether you were safe. Still, he clung to that napkin, to the small hope that, somewhere, somehow, you might call.

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