#you know now that i think about it. the lyrics are so simple

[mochinomnoms]

why were you digging? what did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?

art by wolfythewitch

Hozier lyrics in which they embody when loving you.

multi x gn!reader

[tw/cw} - some of the lyrics are gendered, few suggestive parts

[note] - i forgot i had this drafted for a while lol anyways only romantic vibes cause i couldnt find satisfactory lyrics for grim and ortho :( i also was gonna add the halloweenie boys but then it wouldnt have been evenly split and i didnt want that lol

"I know who I am when I'm alone/I'm something else when I see you" - It Will Come Back

He's always been sure of who he is and how he presents himself. He has an image that he must uphold, his reputation is dependent on it. Yet, that perfectly sculpted person comes crumbling down, firm marble turned into malleable clay with you. He should be appalled by the very idea of someone having so much hold over him, yet he can't bring himself to care. You see through him, and it's addicting. You see through him, but still show him kindness, and it's addicting. You see through him, still show him kindness, even knowing just what thoughts he has of you at night, and it's addicting. He has an addiction, and you're his drug of choice. There is no rehab for getting him off of you, once he's hooked he's never letting go of the high that you are. Then again, if you knew just who he really is, perhaps the addiction was mutual.

Riddle Rosehearts, Cater Diamond, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper

"We lay here for years or for hours/So long, we'd become the flowers" - In a Week

He is admittedly a simple man, even if he might portray or say he desires otherwise. But deep down, he is very simple: he'd like to be with you forever, that's it. Laying in the grass, the sounds of cicadas and birds singing, the smell of dewy grass and freshly bloomed flowers, all of that with you would be his dream. He hopes that you two will live a long life together, that your graves will be one, your bodies decomposing together into the earth as nature intended. You hope that centuries into the future, some bright-eyed archaeologists will see the patch of flowers growing over your grave and dig to find your two skeletons intertwined. You both hope that theories and myths are created in the image of your long gone bodies so that the memory of your love will live forever on.

Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl, Rook Hunt, Silver

"She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily/Better yet, she wouldn't care" - Jackie & Wilson

Loud and impulsive to a fault is how most would describe him, and really he should care more about the problems this causes. He should, but why when you take him as he is, flaws and all? To you, the impulsivity, his loud mouth, his rash nature, his bluntness, they weren't flaws—they were him and you love him. And he loves you—for all your naivete, doting, and enabling ways. If there's trouble to be found, it's likely you're both involved: you chasing after him as he goes of. Is it naive to think that this sort of relationship won't eventually burst into flames? Probably. Is it a bit toxic if you were to look at your relationship critically? Probably. But he doesn't care (even if he normally would or should), and neither do you. Instead, for just a bit, you indulge in the present, rather than the past or future. Just for a bit

Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt

"You're bright as the morning, soft as the rain/Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape" - Too Sweet

Something about you is just a bit off-putting: you're a bit too put together, too cheery, too sweet for someone in your situation. It's more off-putting to him that he's drawn to you anyways. Part of him holds himself back, as he's a realist at heart. One day, any day now, you can go back home, where your sweetness rightfully belongs. Part of him though wants to that sweetness, make it rightfully his and his alone. It's why he can't keep himself away from you, he'd rather defile you, ruin you for anyone else so that you'd have no choice but to come running back to him for that sweet satisfaction that only he can provide. You're not stupid though, you know just what he's doing; lucky for him, you're happy to let him age you into a fine wine, made just for his taste.

Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Lilia Vanrouge

"Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I" - Francesca

You have ingrained your very being into his own. The sight, the sound thought of you has him yearning for your touch in ways that would put a god to shame. But Eros had no role in his love for you. Since he's met you, somehow you've managed to core out a space in his heart in the shape of your body. Without you, he'd be empty. Without you, he'd be devastated, experiencing an anguish that would kill his very soul. His love is so strong, so overwhelming, so earth-shattering that he'd alter the very laws of the universe just to keep you with him. Could you even bring yourself to deny him if the choice to leave ever came? You have him in the palm of your hand, like a god with their worshipper. You'll be a merciful and loving god to your devotee, won't you?

Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[sleepless-crows]

I PROMISE ????????? NO MATTER WHAT ???????? SURELY. ALWAYS. I WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE ?????????? AND WHAT IF I CRY ??????????

[puppppppppy]

save me old flipnote studio MVs.......

[a-s-levynn]

Fighting to forgive yourself for being you

[khioneee]

simon didn’t say ‘i love you’

not in the way most people did. but in his own quiet, raw way, he gave you pieces of his heart through the things he did say—words heavy with meaning, words that stuck with you long after they left his lips.

‘i really miss you. don’t know how much more i can take.’ his voice crackled through the comm line, strained and distant. he was halfway across the world, out on another mission, but in that moment, you could hear the weariness seeping into every word. he wasn’t just talking about the mission; he was talking about being without you—like the distance between you was slowly killing him. ‘don’t know how much more of this i’ve got in me.’

‘stay with me. i don’t want you to leave.’ the words came low and rough, slipping out as you tried to leave for work. after being gone for so long, simon wasn’t ready to let you go. not just yet. his hand wrapped around your wrist, gently pulling you back into bed. ‘just a little longer, yeah?’ he murmured, eyes heavy with unspoken need, as if saying goodbye now would tear him apart.

‘i think i like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.’ he muttered it under his breath after a night spent with soap and the lads. they’d stolen your attention all evening, and simon had stayed quiet, watching from the sidelines. but when he finally pulled you aside, his words came low and possessive. there was no jealousy, only the quiet truth that he preferred you like this—just the two of you, away from the rest of the world.

‘i would gladly break my heart for you.’ the fight still hung heavy in the air, your threat to leave cutting deeper than you realized. but simon didn’t raise his voice. his response was quiet, steady, and devastatingly sincere. ‘if it means you’ll be happier… i’d do it. i’d break my heart for you.’ in that moment, you knew his love wasn’t just in the easy moments—it was in the sacrifices he was willing to make, even if it destroyed him.

‘you’re the only good thing in my life,’ he said softly, almost like a confession, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. his voice carried a weariness that hinted at everything he’d been through, all the darkness that clung to him. but you—you were the one light that cut through it all. and in those words, he gave you the truth of his love—whether he could say the words or not.

and that’s how simon told you ‘i love you.’ not with grand declarations or flowery speeches, but with quiet, broken truths. each one more powerful than three simple words could ever be.

an. based on lyrics by cigarettes after sex haha.

[2hightocare]

COFFEE!

“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”

Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…

Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship.. non idol au

Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333

authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍

They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.

You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.

It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.

You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.

It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.

You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.

Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.

His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.

You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.

A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.

“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.

“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.

Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.

“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.

As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.

It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.

He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.

“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”

Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.

That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.

Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.

It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.

“You remembered?” she said softly.

“I remember every second of us.”

The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.

Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.

This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.

You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.

Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.

"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.

"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.

"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.

"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.

You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.

"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.

"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.

"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.

"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.

"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”

Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.

"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.

"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.

To be loved is to be seen.

That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.

Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.

This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of

-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.

It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you

-so long as you could experience it with him.

The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.

After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.

Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.

As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.

It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.

His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.

He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.

"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.

"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.

"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.

As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.

Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed

"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."

"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.

You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.

"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.

"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."

"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.

As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.

[poguehearted77]

Wild Child

summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.

smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).

The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.

Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.

"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."

You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.

"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.

She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.

You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.

"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.

You're about to break him, you can see it.

He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.

Broken.

He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.

It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.

The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.

"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.

The neighbours hated to see you coming.

You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.

You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.

With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.

Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.

One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.

The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.

The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.

A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.

As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.

"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."

There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.

"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.

The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.

The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.

He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.

"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.

"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.

Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.

"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."

The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."

With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.

God, it was good to have you back.

The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.

Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.

The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.

Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.

Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.

His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.

"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.

"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.

Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.

Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.

“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”

You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”

A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.

He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”

If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.

"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.

"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.

"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.

Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.

You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.

Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.

Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.

Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”

With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.

"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.

"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.

Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.

A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.

You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.

He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.

Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.

Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.

A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.

“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.

He was going to destroy you.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”

“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.

"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.

His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.

You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.

"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.

"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.

"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.

"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.

"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.

"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."

[lovingseventeen]

Hiii could you pls write about how seventeen gets their s/o to sit in their lap?? Thanks so much

svt getting their s/o to sit on their lap

a/n: i hope this is sufficient for my very delayed return (please).

seungcheol: 

✿ it's truly just second nature for him at this point

✿ he'll just casually guide you onto his lap and you don't really question it either

✿ say you're about to sit next to him on the couch

✿ as you're about to sit he'll just lightly pull your wrist in his direction and there you are

jeonghan:

✿ loves to rest his head on your shoulder when you sit on his lap

✿ the simplest "come here" and you're following

✿ he loves this because you don't even have to pay attention to him but he has all the access to wrap his arms around your middle

joshua: 

✿ pats his leg when you want to show him something on your phone

✿ "josh look at this thing i just saw-"

✿ immediately, he's sitting up and spreading his legs so you can walk in the space between them and sit on one of his thighs

✿ "let me see, pretty"

jun: 

✿ will gradually shift you onto his lap over time absentmindedly

✿ neither of you two really notice but you just wind up there

✿ you were watching a movie on opposite ends of the couch (which is fine) but now you're there??? (no one is complaining)

hoshi: 

✿ so annoying about it (i mean this in a loving way)

✿ why should you sit anywhere else when his lap is literally right there??

✿ even if you sat somewhere else without thinking about it he's jokingly scoffing "so you hate me"

✿ (it's okay, just go sit on his lap and peck his cheek and he's all giddy again)

wonwoo: 

✿ pulls you towards him by an article of clothing

✿ it could be your pants loop, the sleeve of your hoodie, or the back of your shirt

✿ he doesn't need to ask you twice :')

woozi:

✿ always asks for your opinion when he makes a new beat or writes new lyrics

✿ "i want you to listen to this" he says with a hand stretched out

✿ he likes to have you sit on his lap while he places the headphones around your ears

✿ he gently presses his forehead to your back as he waits for your thoughts

dokyeom: 

✿ perpetually wrapped around you anyway (his love language is physical touch)

✿ it doesn't take long when an arm around your shoulder as you're sitting next to each other moves to your waist

✿ then he figures this isn't close enough and he'll also maneuver you so you're eventually on his lap. he'll quite literally wrap his arms around your middle so he can move you

✿ "this is better" as he nudges his face into your neck

mingyu:

✿ will manhandle you if he has to

✿ you try teasing him just to see him get pouty and as you're trying to get away from him, he uses a little bit more of his strength to pull you towards him

✿ but as you're sat you feel him mumble against your shoulder "do you actually not want to?"

minghao:

✿ i think he's a pretty straightforward person

✿ a simple tucking your hair behind your ears and he's caught your attention

✿ "i want you closer" as he holds your arm to help you move

seungkwan: 

✿ dances around the subject instead of just telling you what he wants lol

✿ "did you know that sitting on wooden chairs is actually bad for your back? there's no cushioning"

✿ "oh really? should we order cushions then or-"

✿ "you could sit somewhere else"

✿ "but i need the table for my laptop and i get so lazy on the couch-"

✿ "then maybe you could just sit here" he offers, moving his chair back to welcome you. then it all clicks (he's a dork)

vernon: 

✿ also probably someone who just tugs you gently in his direction

✿ i don't think he'd need to use words for you to get it either

✿ even if you're standing around him doing anything else and you feel him lightly pull the back of your sweater you follow him without giving it much thought

chan:

✿ as long as you're in his vicinity he pulls you with him as he sits down

✿ both of you just came home from work? he's dropping himself down on the couch and you're coming with him

✿ has most definitely missed at least once and you both landed on the floor

[nikkento-writes]

Being married for years now, it’s standard practice to subject Nanami to whatever pop hit of the week you’re currently obsessed with. And by obsessed, you mean repeating it over and over and over again until he finds himself humming the chorus on the train ride to work, even though he’s alone and the song isn’t even playing.

The two of you are driving back home after spending the weekend at your parent’s house. You’re singing the lyrics out loud, staring out the window with a cheerful smile on your face. He holds your hand on the center console, fingers interlocked, while he steers the wheel with his other. After memorizing these godforsaken lyrics beyond his own will, he finally asks, “What is this song even about?”

You turn to face him, lowering the volume, giving him a lousy answer. “It’s about bed chem!” He glances over at you, looking for you to elaborate, which you don’t. All you do is repeat, “Bed chem, Kento. Bed chem!”

He chuckles, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at whatever ridiculous slang the new generation is using nowadays. “Bed chem?”

You clear your throat, preparing yourself to give him the definition like some sort of spelling bee judge. “Bed chem. Having really good chemistry in the bedroom. Being sexually compatible. Matching each other’s freak. Bed chem.”

Nanami doesn’t even want to ask you to elaborate on the last example. “Is this what the youths are calling it nowadays?”

You giggle, squeezing his hand gently. “I guess so.”

He pulls into the driveway, foot on the brake as he reaches for the garage door opener, pressing it. “So what about us?”

You eye him suspiciously as he enters slowly. “What do you mean?”

He turns the car off, closing the garage door behind you. “Do we have bed chem?”

“I don’t think we’d be together this long if we didn’t,” you laugh, gazing into his eyes.

“Hm, I don’t know,” he hums, leaning closer, lips grazing your ear. “Do I pick you up? Pull them down?” His hand slides underneath your skirt, fingers teasing your clothed pussy.

“Kento,” you breathe out, spreading yourself wider in the seat, loving the way he rubs you through your panties.

“Do I talk so sweet when I’m doing bad things?” He hooks the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your thighs, pressing a finger directly to your throbbing clit. “Is that bed chem?”

You’re too entranced by his seduction to tell him how impressed you are that he knows the lyrics. Nodding, you whimper, “Yes,” taking his fingers until you come with his name pouring out of your mouth in breathy moans.

It doesn’t take you long to reiterate to Nanami that the two of you do in fact have “bed chem”; you ride him in the driver’s seat, making him spill his creampie inside you with his tongue stuck down your throat, further proving your point. Though, a simple reminder doesn’t hurt one bit.

[psychhound]

i love games that play with impossibilities in the mechanics to create mood or storytelling through empty space. roll tables that have numbers too high or too low, dice that don't physically exist. i imagine there's a lot more you could do with it. tarot cards not in any real deck, 42 of spades, dice towers 100 dice tall

i've always been such a fan of blank space in narratives but sometimes the best use of your time really is just to spell it out. here's something you can't have. this is exactly what i want you to think about and know that you won't get, not in this game at least

in my lyric game about werewolves, your 'beast' stat goes up a die size for all the animals watching you, and if you get past a d100 you have to roll using the moon. in my most recent little bookmark game, you take a baby girl (your daughter? someone else's?) and leave her to be raised by humans instead of the fey, like you. it's a simple game. roll a d6 to find out what happens to her when you come back 10 years later. lower numbers are worse outcomes, higher good. pretty simple. the outcome for 6 is pretty good, she knows shes a fey and has some friends who know too, she's even happy to see you, and i couldve left it at that. but it was for the 36 word jam and i had some words left. so i made a 7 where her new parents also know and they still love her. and that just really changes the whole game for me. sometimes its sad and sometimes its less so. but even with your best chance at a good life for her shes never actually going to be loved for who she really is, and you did that to her. it might not be on her mind but its going to be on yours and you know you know you know its out of reach. thats what the whole game is about now, to me. the 7 you can't ever roll

i think the impossible mechanic is definitely something that fits well in a certain genre of game (lyric games or really absurd ones especially) but i wanna see it used more in general. what should the players be aware of the absence of? whats your mechanical haunting of the narrative? if yall have examples or self-promos feel free to drop em

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

hear me out what about a fratboy jaehyun one shot where reader asks him to do slim pickins by sabrina carpenter tiktok challenge

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYDKbWBx/

⋆⭒˚.⋆ a boy who's jacked and kind ⋆⭒˚.⋆

(cw: f!reader, profanity, TikTok trend)

You were extremely entranced by each TikTok you scrolled past. Fratboy!Jaehyun was eyeing you with fascination, what about Sabrina Carpenter singing about a kind man was so upsetting to you? The same line over and over again, "a boy who's jacked and kind." Were you staring at jacked guys and wishing he was more jacked? Was it some kind of gross trend that you got distracted watching? Who would do something so gross to a Sabrina Carpenter song?

"What are you watching, sweetheart?" Jaehyun asked.

Immediately, you set your phone down with a poorly concealed, sneaky smile, "would you... consider yourself strong?"

Jaehyun lets out a choked chuckle, "I think I am, yeah. I don't spend 4 days a week in the gym and meal prep for nothing." He studies your face for a second, noting that you look serious, "do you- do you not think I'm strong? Sweetheart, you told me you loved my abs and you always feel my arms up! You've literally licked up my abs and left hickies on my arms! Do you know how long I had to wear hoodies in the dead of summer to hide those?!"

You throw your head back onto his pillows while giggling, once again reaching for your phone before the screen is facing him. "Do you think you could do this?" you ask.

Jaehyun squints his eyes, watching the screen as the boyfriend picks up his girlfriend and lifts her onto his shoulder while flexing. It's a simple shoulder press, extremely simple. Jaehyun isn't even afraid to admit that he's really proud of his back muscles - especially his shoulders and traps. Fuck yeah, he could do this.

"So what, are we doing this now?" Jaehyun asks simply.

Your eyes widen and your brows raise with very poorly concealed surprise (could you try a little harder?) (for his pride?), "you can do this? Like, actually?"

"Don't wound me, sweets. Of course I can. Get up," Jaehyun instructs, standing from his bed and setting your phone up on his dresser. He already knows how to go about setting up the TikTok after the many, many TikToks you've made him do with you. The sound is ready, countdown set as you stand beside him.

The numbers on the screen start to countdown from ten as you tell Jaehyun, "maybe we should practice."

"Just stand there and look pretty, sweets. I got this," Jaehyun mumbles just as the audio begins going off.

Before you know it, his hands are on your hips. As he squats, you bend your knees, jumping to help him out. The next thing you know, you're up in the air. You're too amazed and laughing with shock to even begin to mouth along to the lyrics.

Jaehyun watched you through the screen with a loving smile as he flexes his other arm. The audio ends and Jaehyun slowly lets you back down. When you feet hit the floor, you're immediately turning to Jaehyun and kissing him all over his face while he lets out a deep laugh.

"You're so cool! I can't believe you can do that! Oh my god! That was sexy, how do you feel about more hickies?" You ask breathlessly, his face still cupped in your hands.

Jaehyun smirks down a you, "I'll never say no to my girl marking me up."

[t1ny-untitled]

TILL X GN!READER

「 ✦ ‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

- in this au, Till is in love(?) with the reader!yn and sang a different song in Round 2 in where he thinks you like (the aliens don't know it was someone else's song). He feels unsure of his feelings for gn!reader until he sang the song. -

- Warning; Till might be ooc(out of character) so I apologize if it is. If anything, feel free to give me some tips or things to improve this or any of my future fics, thank you! -

「 ✦ ‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

날 스치는 그대의 옅은 그 목소리

(That faint voice of yours that grazed me.)

내 이름을 한 번만 더 불러주세요

(Please call my name one more time.)

얼어버린 노을 아래 멈춰 서 있지만

(I'm standing still under the frozen light, but)

그대 향해 한 걸음씩 걸어갈래요

(I will walk towards you, step by step)

Still with you

0:01 - 0:18

Still With You - Jungkook

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ✦ 」

[Reader] has always been the person that Till admired a lot. Watching them from afar with admiration. Through his journey of learning the guitar, they were his inspiration and motivation to continue on. For him, his education, and for them.

You were his childhood best friend he never wanted to let go. You were too kind to him. To people. To everyone. He likes that about you. He couldn't even believe that he met someone so caring like you. It felt so unbelievable.

He just wishes to at least hold your hand, wipe your delicate tears when you cry, let you sleep on his shoulder for as long as you can, and talk to you for countless hours.

It breaks his tiny heart whenever he sees you with someone. He had always tried to impress you. He wanted you to be proud of him. To notice him. To care about him. He had always dreamed about that.

And this is finally the time that he can impress you. And he won't mess it up. He can't mess it up.

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

Till was now against a guy—Acorn. A short brown haired boy who is just the same age as he is. He looked at the audience with confidence. He knew he was gonna win this round. With this song he prepared. For you.

Surely, the music started to play, giving a somewhat soft but electrifying memory with his guitar. He tried to do it as softly as possible but also enough to maybe impress you.

He struck a few tabs and some chords, bringing the microphone to his mouth as he sang, giving a slightly blocked sound to impress the audience as well

"날 스치는 그대의 옅은 그 목소리."

"내 이름을 한 번만 더 불러주세요"

"얼어버린 노을 아래 멈춰 서 있지만"

"그대 향해 한 걸음씩 걸어갈래요"

"Still with you"

He sang in a soft tone before striking a slightly louder and improvised melody. The boy looked at him, not even knowing where to start singing until he continued.

"어두운 방, 조명 하나 없이. 익숙해지면 안 되는데 그게 또 익숙해"

("Dark room, no lights. I shouldn't get used to it but I'm used to it again.")

He sang, looking at the ground for a brief moment to think about all the things he had with you before when the two of you were still kids.

"나지막이 들리는 이 에어컨 소리. 이거라도 없으면 나 정말 무너질 것 같아. 함께 웃고, 함께 울고. 이 단순한 감정들이 내겐 전부였나 봐"

("This quiet sound of the air conditioner. I feel like I'd really fall apart without this. Laugh together, cry together. I guess these simple feelings were everything to me.")

A gentle smile creeped up to his face, looking up. He felt conflicted by his unknown feelings for you. And he wanted to be sure...

"언제쯤일까 다시 그댈 마주한다면? 눈을 보고 말할래요."

("When will I ever see you again? I want to look you in the eye and tell you")

"보고 싶었어요"

("I missed you")

Suddenly, he felt a switch in his heart turned on. A feeling of his heart racing as he continued on the lyrics with passion. He hasn't felt something like this until now... It felt so nice, even.

The brunette looked at him, slightly panicking as he looked at his score compared to the gray haired one. He looked back at the gray haired, seeing how he was smiling genuinely. His collar was green, showing his positivity. Or even, motivation..

He really hopes you like it...

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

"Till!"

A young child said, running towards the young boy—Till "Look what I made!" The young child said, showing him a little bouquet of flowers. You were smiling like a little kid, giving the bouquet to him. "It's for you!"

Till looked at the bouquet, feeling his cheeks burn beet red by the sudden gift. "W—why me?!" He exclaimed, looking up at you with surprise.

The young child looked at him, confused but also upset, thinking he doesn't like it "Why? Is it ugly?" You asked, looking a bit saddened as you looked down at your bouquet. He didn't like it when he saw you like that. He quickly patted your head, trying to calm you down "I—I'm just asking! I didn't say anything negative about that!" *He protested, hesitantly grabbing the bouquet and hiding it up to his chest "H—happy?!" He says, looking down at you and hoping you would be happy again

The little child looked up at him, and your face brightened. "Sing me a song" You stated, looking at him with a smile. You knew he couldn't say no... "A—ah... Hrgh..." Till grunted, feeling his face heat up and looked away, looking timid. "Fine...!" He said making you smile brightly and jumped up and down.

You sat on the floor beside him, looking at him as if waiting for him to sing. He couldn't concentrate properly on how focused you are to him but eventually, he started to sing.

"황홀했던 기억 속에"

("In the ecstatic memories")

"나 홀로 춤을 춰도 비가 내리잖아"

("Even if I dance alone, it rains")

"이 안개가 걷힐 때쯤 젖은 발로 달려갈게"

("By the time this fog clears, I'll run with wet feet")

"그때 날 안아줘"

("Hug me then")

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

He didn't even realize that he was zoning out and his opponent—Acorn was already singing while he was distracted. He felt angered to the point he slammed his guitar on the floor. He wanted it to be him he's impressing you. Not the flat haired guy.

It still made him mad despite him still winning over the brunette. Now he had just killed his alien guitar. Ahh... But all he wanted to know is if you liked it or not.

He goes back to where he was, trying to find you to see if you paid attention to his performance. He just hoped that you weren't sleeping that time since you are a heavy sleeper... But luckily, when he came back, you instantly greeted him with a soft smile and waved at him. The only thing that filled his mind is that you liked it based on your small interaction with him.

Till looks at you, his face burning and his lips curling into a nervous and awkward smile before waving back. Now he finally knows what his feelings for you are now.

He wants to stay still with you

‧₊˚ 🎸 ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

[xoxochb]

— prettiest eyes (ever seen) ꣑ৎ‧₊˚. pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader lyrics: “he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen” + “every piece of me holds parts of you” a/n: I’m thinking about a part two…

“look at me, my love”

you smile and percy opens his eyes with a similar expression. you’re truly like a silly school girl, a pink hue adorning your cheeks when he makes direct eye contact. you rub your thumb over his bottom lip before pecking him once. he pouts when you pull away far too quickly for his liking

“come back” he leans in himself this time and reclaims your lips, for longer this time, though you’re not complaining. when he breaks the kiss you sit back upright with a lovestruck expression. his sea green eyes bore into yours, into your soul, like there was more there than just simple irises. It makes you giddy to know these eyes are all yours to stare into

“percy” you whisper. he hums in response and you continue “you have pretty eyes”

“you think so?”

you nod and bite your bottom lip. you’re drowning. completely and utterly drowning in the eyes of his. your stomach feels all fluttery and all your skin feels warm and tingly. you remove your hands from his cheeks and search the sand until you come across a green rock. you pick it up and hold it to percy’s eyes

“perfect” you mumble absentmindedly

“what’s the rock for?”

your cheeks have surely turned red by now. “It matches your eyes. I think I’ll cut the edges off and put it in a necklace”

his eyes widen and he starts frantically searching the sand himself until he finds his own rock, repeating the same process and holding it to your eye this time

“does it match?” you inquire

“sure does. will you make me a necklace with it?”

“of course” you take the rock from his palms and place that one and the other, shoving them into your pocket for later

“come here, lovely girl” percy flashes you the softest of smiles and slots his lips with your own tenderly. it makes those butterflies in your tummy go crazy with the way he kisses you so lightly, un rushed, like he never wants to part from your warmth

and he doesn’t. continuing to kiss you breathless, in a needy manner, pulling you onto his lap, hands under your shirt. you’re not sure where this sudden urge came from, yet you can’t find it in yourself to stop him, you just as eagerly push his lips further into yours, if that was even possible to do. his fingers dig into your skin, bound to leave some kind of mark tomorrow. he tastes just like the ocean, salty, inviting, you need more of him you tug at the raven hair over the nape of his neck, tugging it urgently, eliciting him to groan into your mouth

percy pulls back for only a moment, and with his lips still lingering over yours he rasps, “want to go back to my cabin?”

and you so know the answer to that

[ghettogirly]

how do you think armando would react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same as him, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 .

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

-> synopsis: Armando was obsessed with everything about you. Yet, you never showed him the same energy back. Until one night.

-> theme: one sided love, smut.

-> format: drabble + story?

-> warning: hardcore smut, slight mention of dacryphillia, armando is a little rough and cocky asf, mature language, mention of guns, mention of alcohol, he does not understand the meaning of personal space, i think if he wants something he’ll go after it!

-> authors note: 2 updates back to backkk! thanks for requesting! Hope you enjoy it! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🕷️] 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

᯾ Ever since he first noticed you when meeting the team, it was love at first sight for him.

᯾ He would definitely show how much he’s obsessed with you in implicit ways, not fully going for you as that’s not his personality.

᯾ Would definitely prefer to do things that make you notice him, however, he could chase you if he wanted to.

᯾ He would definitely stare at you in the locker room or on the plane, on the way to whatever location you guys are needed.

᯾ His eyes would start at your legs before slowly glancing up to your lips.

᯾ You already know he’s a playboy just like his dad.

᯾ However, regardless of his obvious interest in you, the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.

᯾ Nevertheless, he wouldn’t tease you too much on missions. Not loving you enough to the point where he wants his life to be compromised.

᯾ He always has his eye out for you. Need more ammo? he’s got you.

᯾ Need a cover? He’s got you on that too.

᯾ You couldn’t even hate him, skilled in his fighting he was an excellent addition to the team. The way he effortlessly handled any weapon that was given to him, effectively killing anyone in his path. Giving assistance to anyone within the team, you really couldn’t hate him.

᯾ He knew he was good at what he does too.

᯾ And sooner then later, you’d realise he’s good in bed too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🕷️] 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄:

᯾ You hardly talked to him, always avoiding his path.

᯾ Celebratory drinks? On the other side of the table.

᯾ Group talks? You’re never next to him.

𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐎, until you guys saw each other at a club. Neon lights were flashing as people danced and drank excessively. There was you, with two friends, dancing within the crowd. You rolled your hips with the flow of the music, this being an escape from your fast-paced life of being a law enforcement agent.

That was until you saw him, surrounded by men looking like him. Armando’s tan skin and beard being the main thing that stood out. He wore a simple black shirt with tight, slim black jeans. There was a fresh slit in his left eyebrow while his gold cuban chain hung off his neck, slightly longer than shoulder length.

He looked back up, and smirked. Shaking it off, you went back further into the crowd and continued to dance with your friends.

“We’re going to switch it up now, introducing some dancehall! Ladies get ready to whine up yuhself! Men, get ready to catch that whine!!” The DJ shouted over the music before switching up the song.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 & 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇 - 𝐉.𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊.

Cheers and woos erupted in the building, more people coming to the dance floor as ladies bent their legs and arched their backs, ready to whine their life away.

Your friends started whining and dancing, screaming the lyrics as their body began to move with the music as if they were in a trance.

You decided to do the same, letting loose, you began to put your hands on your knees. Whining along to the music by anyone who pressed up behind you. That was until you felt those hands.

Looking up , you noticed Armando holding your hips, a suggestive look on his face as he controlled every circle and buck of your whine. You hated to say it but he was really skilled.

He didn’t even say anything, just focused on you and the music. Slowly pushing your hair on the left side of your face, his hand creeped up to your neck while the other one was still rested on your hip. His touch igniting a flame of zeal within you, the air between the two becoming hot and heavy.

This was forbidden, two co workers were not supposed to have any sexual relations with each other. Yet, you both did not care. Too overcome with lust and desire.

“Volver a casa conmigo..” Armando whispered in your ear, causing a tingle to happen down there.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌. Symphonies of groans and moans escaping the two lovers’ lips as they engaged in a heated kiss, fighting each other with their tongue, burning passion radiating off them. The white, satin sheets barely covered the male as he was focused on thrusting into the woman below. His cock pistoned in and out of the woman’s leaking pussy as her legs were up in the air, rocking backwards and forwards as she jolted up and down due to the roughness of her lover’s actions. Her wetness causing a thin coating on his dick.

“Te sientes tan bien amor..” Armando whispered, gently biting on the woman’s earlobe as she moaned in his ear, hypnotised by the feeling of his thick clock filling her up.

The male noticed and withdrew from her earlobe, still continuing the same pace as he held onto her hips but instead he could see the pleasure in her face. Tears of pleasure slowly slid down your face, to the point where you tried to push the male back, to no avail. “You got to take it mamí.”

“It feels too good.. i can’t.”

“Oh yes you can.” Armando grunted. Randomly flipping you over, your face was roughly met with the pillow. The man then started pounding with even more passion as you gasped and whined underneath him. “Just like that Armando..”

Your little comments turned him on more, feeling the reach of his peak coming. Your quiet nature before this now contradicting the lewd activity commencing now. And he loved it. He knew you would eventually come around. “Ah.. ¿Así que tu bonita boca puede hablar?”

Too dazed by the pleasure to understand the sarcasm dripping off his voice, you just nodded. Your hand slowly crawling down to your clit as you rubbed it in desperation. The overstimulation forcing your orgasm to come crashing down before you could even warn him. “Oh my god!”

This caused Armando to absolutely lose it. Your own impulsive decision to coming back to bite you caused him to begin chasing after his own orgasm. Still thrusting while you tried coming down from your own, before pulling out and releasing his seed onto your stomach.

“estás loco.”

“Estoy loco por no amarte antes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Volver a casa conmigo” : Come home with me.

“Te sientes tan bien.” You feel so good.

“ ¿Así que tu bonita boca puede hablar?”: So your pretty mouth can speak?

“estás loco.” - You’re crazy.

“Estoy loco por no amarte antes.” - i’m crazy for not loving you sooner.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@milliumizoomi @thedarkworldofhananerea @5tarlan7 @deadpool15 @wizewhispers @amplifiedmoan @loakswifesworld @sarcasticbitchsblog

[magic-shop-stories]

hello! i just found your blog, i loooooove the way u write yoongi! could i request yoongi x f!reader boyfriend headcanons? just this, ty in advance!

💌 Reply:

Thank you SO MUCH for this request! 💜 Writing Yoongi is always a joy. Hope this hit all the right notes for you! Let me know which part made you giggle, scream, or melt. And as always, thanks for trusting me with your delulu dreams. I think Yoongi would 100% judge us, but he’d secretly love it.

BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

↳YOONGI (SUGA) × FEM!READER

~ CONTENT WARNING FOR SECOND PART OF THE POST ~ MATURE THEMES | (extra warning in the post)

Possessive behavior

Suggestive themes

Mild NSFW references (kissing, intimacy)

Jealousy Proceed mindfully!

DAILY RHYTHM

Mornings

Night Owl Realness

he’s never awake before 10 AM unless forced by schedules

you’ll find him passed out face-down in bed

one arm slung over your waist (possessive octopus)

his alarm?

a grumbled “Five more minutes…” muffled into the pillow

followed by hissed “새끼…” (“Damn it…”) when reality hits

Quiet Rising

if he wakes first (rare), he’ll slip out of bed like a ghost

careful not to jostle his bad shoulder

returns 20 minutes later with (decaf) iced americano 

your favorite placed silently on your nightstand

Breakfast (Sort Of)

he doesn’t "cook"

he assembles

haphazard charcuterie board of convenience store finds

triangle kimbap, yogurt...

sliced apples arranged in a half-hearted star

leaves a note: “Eat. Don’t die.”

Post-Wakeup Rituals

Lap Cat Energy

you find him in his studio

hoodie hood up (glasses askew)

he’ll grunt “Come here” without looking up

patting his thigh

you sit sideways on his lap

legs draped over the chair arm

his right hand stays on his mouse

his left absently plays with your hair

fingertips brushing your scalp in a rhythm matching his beat

Tugging

if you try to leave too soon, he hooks a finger in your waistband or sleeve

“Where you going? I didn’t say you could move.” 

voice rough but eyes soft

Shoulder Check

notice him rolling his left shoulder? = a wince he’d deny

“Yoongi, your...”  “I’m fine...” 

slip a heating pad onto his chair

he doesn’t thank you

his next track samples the crinkle of the pad and your sigh

Coffee & Conversations

Decaf Devotee

sips his americano with a grimace

“Caffeine’s for rookies.”

call him out: 

“You’re just paranoid about shaking during recording.”  he side-eyes you: “…Maybe.”

when you rant about work, he listens while staring at his screen

you think he’s ignoring you?

he mutters:  “Tell your boss to eat shit. Nicely. Or don’t. I’ll write a diss track.” 

his advice is always a threat wrapped in a shrug

Midday Moments

Nap Trap

doze off on the couch?

he drapes his favourite blanket over you

wakes you by poking your cheek

“Hey. You’re drooling on my merch.”

just wants attention

Catlike Coexistence

he works; you read

no talking for hours

just the hum of his work and your pages turning

occasionally, he’ll toss a grape at your head

“You alive over there?”

Nighttime

Pre-Bed Grump

2 AM, he’s still coding beats

drag him to bed!!!

“Yoongi. Now.” 

grumbles but follows

leaning his forehead against your back in the dark

“…Could’ve finished that bridge.”

Sleeping Style

curled on his right side (bad shoulder elevated)

arm slung over your waist

if you shift, he pulls you closer

sleepy “쳇…” (“Tsk…”)

breath warm on your neck

KEY DIALOGUE

when you nag him to hydrate:

“You’re worse than my manager.” 

catch him nodding off mid-edit, glasses crooked

“I’m not cute. Shut up.”

his version of “I miss you.” :

“Come here. Now.” (not a request)

COMMUNICATION

TEXTING STYLE

7 AM: “ㅋ” 

translation: “I’m awake. Suffering. Think of me.”

3 PM: Spotify link to “First Love” by Utada Hikaru

no context

midnight: “Come home.” 

you’ve been in the next room for hours

Notes

scribbles lyrics on receipts

leaves them in your coat pockets

“Your laugh, B-flat minor. Unreleased.”

PET NAMES

calls you “aggressively average” in public

“야” (Ya) / “너” (Neo) = simple, blunt (default)

translates to: “Hey, you.” 

bonus points if he tacks on “-아” 

when annoyed: “야-아!”

“멍청이” (Mongcheongi) = “Dummy.”

delivered with a smirk

when you trip over something: “Classic 멍청이 move.”

privately, it’s “my little disaster"

always in Korean

always when you’re half-asleep

“꼬마” (Kkoma) = “Little one.” 

used when you’re sick or crying

grumbles into your hair

hands awkwardly patting your back

“고양이” (Goyangi) = “Kitten”

reserved for sleepy mornings when you nuzzle into his chest

“고양이… 너무 떨어져.” (Kitten… quit clinging) 

he does not let go

CURSING (HIS LOVE LANGUAGE)

Worried Curses

come home late

he’s pacing

hoodie zipped to his chin

“씨발… 12 missed calls. You trying to kill me?” 

pulls you into a crushing hug

sees you struggling with a suitcase?

"Damn it, just give it" 

carries it up five flights

collapses on the couch

“…Never moving again.”

Flustered Curses

wear that dress

he stares too long

spills his americano

“…씨발.” 

avoiding eye contact (not for long tho)

you know his gaze? like in the weverse live? THAT!

“Change. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

MUTTERINGS (UNFILTERED & UNBOTTLED)

Annoyed Affection

“Why are you so bothersome…" 

when he fixes your phone charger (again)

“Ha… wanna die?"

when you steal his fries

pushes the plate closer to you

Sleep-Soft Confessions

half-asleep, face buried in your neck: 

“…넌 내 거야.” (You’re mine) 

followed by a huff

if you acknowledge it: “I was dreaming. Shut up.”

after nightmares (his or yours), voice gravelly: 

“It’s okay. Let’s lie down."

HIDDEN POETRY (FOR YOUR EARS ONLY)

Lyric Leaks

overhear him mumbling into his voice memos

“Her laughter... G major, sustain pedal down.” 

when confronted, he snaps: “It’s not about you.” (it is)

find a crumpled note in his jacket: 

“Her anger: A minor 7th. Still prettier than my best chords.”

Satoori Slips

stress unlocks his Daegu dialect

he’ll sigh:

"I’m dead tired"

leans his head on your shoulder

"Your hair smells good."

ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER

Overprotective Tendencies

mention a creepy DM? next day, your Instagram is mysteriously set to private.

“Don’t look at me. Blame Joon’s ‘internet safety’ phase.” (lying)

Passive-Aggressive Love

complain about your slow Wi-Fi?

come home to a $2,000 router installed

“It was on sale.” (It wasn’t)

Services

you’re sick?

he’ll DoorDash three kinds of soup

pretends he “accidentally” ordered too much

“Just pick one. The rest can rot.”

reheats the leftovers for you later

VULNERABLE MOMENTS (CUTS DEEP, HEALS DEEPER)

When You’re Hurt

sees you crying?

says nothing, just pulls you into his lap

chin resting on your head

hours later, he’ll rasp: “Who did it?" 

translation: “Give me a name. I’ll end them.”

after a fight?

he’ll slam a peppero box on the table

“Here. Sugar helps… or whatever.” 

your favorite flavor

drove to three stores

Drunk Truths

tipsy on soju

he’ll trace your jawline

“넌… 내 비트 같아.” (You’re… like my beat.) 

ask what that means?

“Without you, the song’s empty. Happy? Now drink.”

UNEXPECTED SOFTNESS

Shoulder Secrets

his bad shoulder acts up?

he still carries your groceries

“I’m fine. Drop it.” 

later, you find him icing it

muttering “Fuckin’ hero complex…”

Period Protocol

preemptive strike

tracks your cycle like a NASA mission

stocks the fridge with chocolate

heat pads

your weird cravings

“Don’t ask. Just… take what you need.”

Foot Massages

curled in bed, cramping?

he wordlessly pulls your feet into his lap

thumbs digging into your arches

“You’re tense as fuck.” 

you moan?

he smirks “Not the time”

Bad Day Rituals

comes home to find you crying?

silently orders fried chicken

sits on the floor with yo

feeding you bites

lets you wear his favourite hoodie for weeks

“Return it when you’re done being a gremlin.”

buys a duplicate so you never have to

FIERCE LOVE

Defending Your Honor

Karen insults you at the grocery store?

he “accidentally” rams her cart with his

“Oops. Should’ve seen you there… ma’am.”

practiced that line in the mirror

Sacrifices

gives you his expensive headphones during a flight

“Take them. I don’t care.” 

spends the trip white-knuckling the armrest

tortured by a crying baby

COLD FRONT

Silent Treatment Master

when hurt, he retreats into a glacial calm

answers in monosyllables

eyes fixed on his screen

“Fine.” “Whatever.” “Do what you want.” 

you’d prefer yelling?

this icy detachment is worse

Playful Insults Gone Wrong

joked about his “grandpa music taste” during dinner?

he stiffens, chopsticks clattering

“…At least I don’t listen to nursery rhymes.” 

later, you find him scrubbing dishes aggressively

muttering about “disrespect” 

his playlist? Full of your Disney favorites

NEGLECTED NIGHTS

Overwork Blinders

he’s been in the studio for 72 hours?

show up with dinner = he doesn’t look up

“Not hungry.” snap: “You’ll die before you finish that track!” he smirks. “Already dead. Ghosts work faster.” 

Breaking Point

turn off his monitor mid-session?

he slams his fist, voice shaking

“You think this is a game? I’m building a future.”  fire back: “Future’s empty without us!” 

he storms out

returns at 3 AM with tangerines (both your comfort fruit) and a USB drive labeled “Track 13: Sorry.”

GIFTS

(NOT YOUR GRANDMA’S ROMANCE)

Practical Pampering

forget roses.

gifts you custom ergonomic keyboard after noticing wrist pain

“Don’t thank me. Just stop typing like a grandma.” 

keys are programmed to flash “DUMBASS” if you type past midnight

Sentimental Sleuth

finds your childhood Tamagotchi in a thrift store

resurrects it, feeds it for weeks, then hands it over

“It’s on life support. Your problem now.”

Lingerie? Please... (mostly tho)

buys you noise-canceling headphones

“So you’ll shut up about the neighbors.” 

you’ve never mentioned the neighbors aloud (he just knows)

PRETENDS TO HATE SHOPPING

Reluctant Mule

drag him to a flea market

he complains about “dust mites” and “overpriced garbage"

carries your bags without a word

“Hurry up. I’m not your butler.” (he is)

Secret Splurges

catches you eyeing a vintage leather jacket

“Too expensive. Let’s go.” 

returns the next day to buy it

leaves it on your bed with a note: “Don’t ruin it.”

Fashion Critic (Liar)

try on a frilly dress

“You look like a cupcake.” 

later, texts Jin: “Hyung, where do you get those stupid ... she likes?”

HATES WHEN YOU GET DRUNK

(BUT LOVES YOU MORE)

Gruesome Guardian

catches you tipsy at a party (clinging to a giggling band member)

his jaw clenches

" Let’s go.” (“We’re fucked…”)

throws you over his good shoulder like a sack of rice

ignoring your slurred protests

deposits you on the couch

forces water and aspirin into your hands

“Drink. Or I’ll IV it into you.”

Morning-After Mercies:

wakes you with haejangguk (hangover soup), extra kimchi

“Eat. You look like death.” 

when you groan, he smirks

“Next time, stick to soju. At least I can carry that.”

Secret Worry

texts your friends preemptively: 

“Keep her at 2 drinks. Or I’ll end you.”  Jungkook replies: “Hyung, she’s a grown...”  “Try me.”

FAMILY GHOSTS

Dad’s Shadow

mention wanting kids?

he freezes

“I won’t be like him. Ever.” 

later, he researches parenting books

leaves one on your nightstand:

“Raising Kids Without Being a Dick.”

Mom’s Voice

calls her weekly

Satoori thickening

hear him whisper, “Mom, she… eats well."

MARRIAGE

(UNLIKELY PROPOSAL)

Fight

jokingly call him a “commitment-phobe” after he dodges yet another wedding invite

he snaps

“Marriage is a corporate merger. Why the fuck would I want that?”  retaliate: “Then stop acting like my CEO!”

Ring

he buys it six months prior

a minimalist platinum band etched with “Agust D” lyrics in Morse code

hides it in his guitar case, where you “accidentally” find it

“It’s not... ugh. Just take it.”

Proposal

after a brutal argument about his workaholism

he slams a USB drive on the table

a track titled “Forever (feat. You)” with a voice memo: 

“Marry me. Or don’t. I’ll still be here.”

FATHERHOOD = THE GREAT TERROR

Panic

mention wanting kids?

he freezes mid-bite

“…We can’t even keep plants alive.” 

buys a cactus, names it “Baby Jungkook” (it dies)

Test Run

fosters a three-legged cat

calls her “Practice" 

lets her sleep on his studio chair

“If she survives me… maybe.” 

she thrives

he cries when she’s adopted

Revelation

catches you watching a toddler giggle at his concert VLive

mutes the video

“…They’d have your laugh. Maybe that’s… okay.”

ARGUMENTS & FEARS

Fight

you suggest baby names

h scoffs

“We’re not naming a kid ...” snap: “It’s tradition in my family!” 

he storms out

returns with a list of “acceptable” names (all Korean, all unisex)

Fear

find him researching “How Not to Screw Up Your Kid” at 3 AM. 

“You’re not your dad,” you whisper he slams the laptop “…I know. Doesn’t make it easier.”

THE ARRIVAL

Pregnancy

pretends indifference but learns prenatal massage techniques

“I’m just relieving tension. For me.” 

secretly records your belly to sample kicks into a lullaby

Birth Day

stoic until the first cry

then collapses in the hallway

sobbing into Jin’s shoulder

“Hyung, what if I...”  “You’ll be great. Now go hold your kid.”

First Night Home

stays awake

baby on his chest

humming “Sweet Night” off-key

texts the group chat: 

“She has your nose. And my rage. Send help.”

~ CONTENT WARNING ~

MINORS DNI | NSFW | SPICY INTIMACY/PHYSICALITY AHEAD

doesn’t include explicit descriptions of sexual acts

contains: possessive themes, sensual language, suggestive scenarios, jealousy, explicit intimacy/kissing,suggestive content, kink mentions (marking, power dynamics), body worship, (feral Yoongi™)

PHYSICALITY/INTIMACY

Possessive Holding

his hands are always on you in public

thumb hooked in your back pocket

palm splayed possessively over your thigh at dinner

at home, it’s worse:

pins you against counters

forehead resting on your shoulder like a feral cat marking territory

mutters “Mine” into your skin

breath hot

Jealousy

silent but deadly

catches a coworker flirting with you?

says nothing

later, he’s suddenly shirtless in the kitchen

flexing while making ramen

“What? It’s hot in here.” (AC is blasting)

Staring

watches you while you read

eyes tracking the way you bite your lip

“What?” you ask “Nothing,” he lies

clicking his pen like a metronome

SECRETLY LOVES YOUR SEXY OUTFITS (BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT)

Possessive Glances

wear a backless dress

he hovers all night

hand resting on the exposed skin like a human shawl

growls at anyone who looks too long

“Eyes up, fucker.”

Backhanded Praise

“That skirt’s impractical.” 

later, finds him staring at your Instagram post in his studio

saves it to a hidden folder labeled “Inspo.”

Late-Night Honesty

after sex, he’ll trace the strap of your lingerie

voice rough

“…Keep this. But don’t wear it outside. Or do. I’ll just kill someone.”

TOUCH

Electric Prelude

his hands speak first

calloused fingertips skimming your jawline

thumb brushing your bottom lip

maps your skin like a composer tracing sheet music

lingering on pulse points (wrist, throat, inner thigh) to memorize your rhythm

Possessive Anchors

palm splayed against your lower back pressing you closer

fingers tangled in your hai tugging just enough to tilt your head

Aftercare Rituals

post-passion, he traces idle patterns on your hip

his touch lingers on scars, birthmarks, stretch marks

“Proof you’re real,” he mutters, as if convincing himself

KISSES

Slow Ignition

starts with closed-mouth presses to your temple, knuckles, the corner of your lips

testing, teasing

when you gasp, he smirks

“Impatient.”

Tongue Technology

deep but controlled,

push-and-pull of heat and restraint

his tongue flicks the roof of your mouth

steals your breath

leaves you dizzy

“Breathe,” he growls, not letting you

Hidden Softness

after fights, his kisses are apologetic

chaste pecks to your eyelids, nose, scars 

“Sorry… sorry…” breathed like a prayer

PACE

Deliberate

prefers slow

almost maddening build-up

takes hours to undress you

mouth exploring every inch before letting you fall apart

“You’ll take what I give you,” he warns

eyes dark

Feral Surges

when jealousy or adrenaline strikes, he’s relentless

pinning you against walls

biting your shoulder

“Mine. Say it.”

POSITIONS

Missionary, Modified

your legs hooked over his bad shoulder

his left hand gripping the headboard for leverage

“Don’t hide,” he orders

watching your face unravel

Cowgirl Command

lets you take control

hands squeezing your hips

“Show me what you need.”

the moment you falter, he flips you

“My turn.”

PREFERENCES

Lighting

pitch dark or candlelit

claims he “hates distractions,” 

catch him staring at your silhouette in the shadows

Soundtrack

your whimpers

his name gasped like a curse

demands “Louder,”, then covers your mouth

“Too loud.”

Kinks

Marking

leaves bruises where only he can see

inner thighs, under collarbones

“So you remember who you belong to.”

Power Play

lets you bind his wrists with his own belt

then breaks free

“Cute. But I’m still in charge.”

ROUNDS

Quality > Quantity

one meticulous, earth-shattering

wear his hoodie the next morning

he’ll corner you in the kitchen

“You’re asking for it.”

Dawn Encores

wakes you with his mouth between your thighs

voice sleep-rough

“Don’t act surprised. You knew I wasn’t done.”

FAVORITE SPOTS

Neck-to-Shoulder Junction

bites here to hear you yelp

soothes it with his tongue

Behind Your Ear

whispers filth in Korean

grinning when you shiver

“You understood that, didn’t you?”

Inner Wrists

kisses your veins like they’re holy

“Every heartbeat’s because of me.”

TRIGGERS

Begging

“Please, Yoongi..." 

cuts you off with a snarl

“Not yet.”

Competence

take charge, riding him ruthlessly

he lets you

until he doesn’t

“Fuck… okay, okay...” 

flips you mid-stride

Vulnerability

tears during aftercare

crushes you to his chest

voice breaking

“I’ve got you. Always.”

BONUS

“I Don’t Do PDA”

except when he does

drags you into empty alleyways to kiss you senseless

“Someone could see...”  “Let them.”

“I’m Not Cute”

posts a selca of you both

your face visible

his obscured by a heart emoji

caption: “#NoFilter" 

ARMY notices his left pinky curled around yours

trends for days

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: [Astarion x Reader/Tav] Wilful, witty, vulnerable and endearing, Astarion blossoms slowly under the ever-present sunshine of your love.

CW: Explicit sexual content, mentions of past trauma.

Banner art: by Steven Nederveen

Dividers: @aquazero

" ... time and again

No fire where I lit my spark

I am not afraid of the dark

Where your words devour my heart ... "

~ lyrics from Distant Sun (by Crowded House)

His scent infiltrates your dreams, the dry floral notes and the rusty tang of old blood, the unique underlying essence that never fails to bring his face to the forefront of your mind.

When he falls asleep, back pressed to yours, it is merely a prelude to how you wake the following morning, with his head tucked into the crook of your neck, or pillowed between your breasts, the soft white curls grazing your cheek as you keep your breathing light and even, so as not to interrupt his slumber. You know the gentle scent of his scalp better than anyone has a right to.

There is something that goes far beyond the pleasures of the flesh when you are together like this; two easily doused candle-flames that reach for each other, flickering, across the distance of bleak memory, pain and loss.

Such a tenuous connection, so easily fractured. Yet, even through all the trials you've faced thus far, losing him had somehow transformed into an idea you simply would not countenance.

The land might burn, your enemies might dance on the ashes of the people you had failed, but Astarion's fingers winding uncertainly through yours would be the only sensation you wanted to experience at the end of the world.

You thought about it now, as rain pattered on the roof of your tent, the inside dry and warm from the heat of the enchanted lamp. He had joined you a short while earlier, wordlessly, as was his habit. To give voice to the immensity of what he had to overcome, every single time he entered your tent of his own free will, would be more than he was capable of fully processing at this time.

He lay beside you now, with his chin propped against the top of your head.

He was awake.

"Astarion?"

"Darling."

"What kind of weather do you like best?"

He was silent for a while. You lay still, relaxed. Sometimes, pauses in conversation could stretch out for ages, because time ceased to place its shackles on either of you. Even the most mundane topic was up for discussion. Words filled space with comfort. Stolen time was sacred time.

"Hmm. Weather like this, I suppose. It makes being inside feel ... somewhat better."

"You certainly weren't born for the outdoors."

He raised his fingernails for you to inspect.

"Absolutely not! Look at these beauties. Imagine if they became stained with grass, or earth, or worse still ... chipped."

"That would be grievous indeed."

A low rumble of amusement made its way up through his throat.

"What about you, my dove? If I could guess - "

"Cooler weather. Maybe breezy."

His touch skimmed, feather-light, up your arm. In times past, such an action would have been a clear provocation, an invitation to something more intimate. You acknowledge it in your mind, absorb it, like a plant takes in sunlight. Astarion is your sun, small and fitful, burning you down to the bone when you least expect it, fighting for his place in your universe.

You reached out, fingertips brushing his. He paused, allowing your hands to connect, palm to palm. His fingers are longer than yours, strong, clever. You've seen him take apart complex locking mechanisms with such ease, the same ease with which he'd unraveled your body the first time you'd been together.

"Where did you learn to pick locks?"

He lowered his hand and lay back, staring at the roof of the tent. You splayed out at his side, two children watching the imagined turn of the heavens.

"I ... think I learned it from a criminal. One I represented in a case, long ago. He was talkative. Couldn't shut him up, really. Told me how he had cracked a simple safe. I followed his instructions on a similar safe, as a demonstration."

"And you succeeded?"

You could almost sense the curve of his mouth.

"On the first try. He was so proud. Ha. Called me a natural."

You turned your head, smiling slightly. He looked self-satisfied, in that manner of a cat that gets into the choice cream.

Gods, he was lovely to look at, here in your tent, with you. Your gaze traces the impossibly artful tangle of pale curls, the elegant bridge of his nose, the sharp corners of his scarlet eyes and the movement of his perfectly curved lips.

He cocked an eyebrow, expression growing predatory, knowing.

"Darling, you're staring."

You laughed.

"Do you blame me?"

"Honestly? No."

He propped himself on an elbow, playfully prodding at your face until you were forced to swat at him. He sobered suddenly, hands falling away. You suspected you knew what he was about to ask. It was never far away from his thoughts, after all.

"Is this enough for you? Just talking? Just falling asleep together?"

You also knew by now that words weren't adequate to allay his fears. Turning over on your side, you faced him, fingers tracing softly over the profile you'd admired a few moments ago. You smoothed out the worry lines on his forehead, the skin cool and smooth as marble beneath your touch.

"This is more then enough. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because these are the things I've always wanted."

Your index finger trailed down to the tip of his nose, where you decided a kiss needed to be placed. He leaned forward, unknowingly.

"You wanted ... this? How we are now?"

"Yes. A lover is nice and all, Astarion, but I've always wanted a partner. Someone to laugh with. Someone to grouse to. Someone to sit with their back to mine in the cold and share my bread with me. Someone to whisper to when the darkness grows closer."

He was silent for a bit, hesitating. You passed your thumbs across the high cheekbones, watching as he fell slowly into the comforting familiarity of the contact. When he spoke, something bitter caught in his throat.

"But I'm not ... capable of some of those things, you know. I can't keep you warm with my body. I can't laugh like others do. I can't eat with you, nor can I claim that darkness hasn't found a permanent home inside me."

You stroked across the corners of his mouth, avoiding his lips and then tracked upwards once again, along the delicate point of his ears, into the feathery silk of his hair.

"That's all right."

"It is?"

"It is, because I say so. Astarion, very few people actually end up inhabiting the castles they build in the air. Sometimes, they find a real home. A home that's so much better. A place they belong."

His voice had now sunk to a whisper.

"Am I ... that to you?"

"Yes."

He was silent, and you didn't press him. Sometimes, it was better to inform him of the way you felt, and to give him time to mull it over. He shifted, restless, before planting a sudden, rather solid kiss on your lips.

There was no artifice behind it, no coy seduction. It was surprisingly factual, a statement of feeling, of earnest intent.

"I'll have you know," he stated seriously, "that I won't have you comparing me to some homely log cabin. Oh no. I'm nothing short of a stately, luxurious home, built on the side of a sharp precipice, overlooking the most glorious snd treacherous sea."

"That's a rather precarious position to be in, don't you think?"

He sat up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes now animated and captivating.

"But that's half the fun! Will a terrible tempest come along and sweep us away? Will a sea monster rise up from the depths and capture us in its jaws?"

His feral grin was now infectious. You straightened and faced him.

"You're only thinking in terms of disasters! That's poor planning. What about the subtle magics of the air that work directly against rock over time? Erosion is as dangerous as any sea monster, you know. Just a tad less showy."

"And what, darling, do you suggest we do about this mortal peril we find ourselves in?"

"We do exactly as we've done so far. We hammer the walls furiously into place, then drink wine and dance and stamp our feet to see how the repairs hold up."

He threw back his head and let out a laugh, warm, heady, the kind that roughened around the edges and brimmed with the wicked delight that you knew had kept him alive, for all of this time. Unable to help yourself, you placed a gentle kiss to the curve of his throat, moving away again, until he grasped your chin firmly and tugged you back.

His mouth was a stark contrast to the way his fingers sunk almost desperately into your cheeks, a gentle mapping out of teeth, tongue, sealed with the exquisite drag of his fangs across your lip.

Forehead pressed to yours, he breathed out the words, as if they'd been chained in the heavy confines of his chest.

"I want to ... I want ... you. I want ... this."

He had said something similar before, under different circumstances. You knew what he was referring to. Gently, you pushed him back. The dim light turned the red of his gaze to the flesh of a pomegranate, tempting, yielding, so easily crushed between your fingers.

"Astarion ... you don't have to - "

"I know. I know you'll wait for me for God knows how long, and I don't know why, because I - "

He bit his lip, but changed tack.

"The reasons ... are important. I know that better than anyone. But I don't want to think. I want to feel. I want to be able to just do this without - "

Worldssly, you drew him towards you, cradling his head against your chest, a return to the familiar. It's the only message that's ever mattered, at least, to you. That he always had a place, whether in your open arms, or across the breadth of the world, or in another realm altogether.

He'd occupy a space that can be filled by no other, with his easy charm, his bruised smile, the bitter twist of his spirit and every sharp edge that sliced you open and infiltrated the furthest corners of your heart.

"What do you want, Astarion?"

"To feel you."

He spoke into the hush of your tent, his breathing laboured. If you had been anyone else, you might have mistaken it for sheer arousal, nothing more. You knew better.

He was nervous. He was letting you see it.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and he lowered himself, propped on his palms on either side of you. You considered him, warmth and sorrow blooming simultaneously in your chest.

"You'll tell me? If anything I do makes you feel ... "

"Yes, my love. I'll ... yes. Right away."

"Stay still. Keep your eyes on me," was the soft command you gave him.

You undid the laces of his shirt, sliding it from him. His skin gleamed with otherworldly pallor, and the knowledge of what had been carved into his back filtered into your mind. You coudn't make him forget, but you could remind him that touch could be tender too.

Such was the way you handled him, as the shirt was pulled away from his torso fully, the ridged planes of his lean abdomen fluttering slightly under your fingers. He was hyper-sensitive to the sensations you brought, a temporary spike in his breathing.

This was nothing like your previous encounter, when he had confidently displayed himself, instructing you on how to please him. You watch the lift of dense, dark lashes, the hesitancy in his glance, the way he raised his head and arched his neck to gift you the same vulnerability always granted to him when you let him feed.

You kept your palms flat against him, grounding him, as you ran them over throat, delicately traced collarbones, stroked down over the curve of his pectorals, down, down, until you stopped right above the buckle of his belt before repeating the process.

His breathing evened out. He leaned down to capture your lips, a little more steady and with more of his old flair. He nipped lightly down on your chin, playful.

You didn't want him to inhabit the persona he'd worn for so long as some kind of defense, and this definitely felt different. As fraught with nerves as he was, he was regaining some of the self he only showed when you were safely ensconced away from the world.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, and he let out an involuntary groan, low and wanton, a sound that spiked jagged heat all the way down the front of your body.

Before you have time to register his actions, Astarion lowered himself, pressing you into the bedroll. There was no art to the way he rolled his hips against yours, no finesse to the way he clumsily mouthed your neck, eager, warm.

"Astar - ahhh - slow down, you - "

"Can't, my sweet - oh yes - I feel - want you so much. I - "

He tugged down your trousers, dragging your underwear away with it. As much as this seemed far more organic that anything he'd done before, the heated throb of arousal didn't distract you from the fact that he was rushing things, perhaps in a frantic bid to prove that he could do this.

You clamped your thighs together, temporarily denying him access and he sat back on his haunches, panting. The raw hunger with which he regarded you made you as slick as melting ice. You had both gone so long without sex, something you were more than happy to accept. You knew all too well, however, the cost of succumbing to pure lust when there was something far more significant at play.

"I know what you want - "

"Then let me have it. I'm no fragile bloom, my sweet - "

"Astarion."

You stifled a smile as he huffed and folded his arms.  

"Fine. I'm listening. But don't delay. I need you."

The ache in his voice almost has your legs falling apart again, but you hold firm.

"Can you take everything off?"

In reply, he stood and unbuckled his belt, but then paused and shot you a mischievous look.

You knew that look. Your mouth twitched.

"What are you up to?"

"Giving you a show, that's all."

"Oh Gods, is now really the time for - "

"Well, since you're being so stiff, let Hortensius help you along."

"Please, not Hortensius."

"But darling, he's already here. Now, be nice."

He sucked in his cheeks, in the manner of one of the high end fashion models of the Upper City and wagged his hips from side to side, lips projecting in an exaggerated pout as the pants slid from his body. Your smile turned to a helpless quiver of suppressed merriment as he kicked the offending article away and then grasped his rigid member, advancing on you without ever losing the expression.

"My name is Hortensius Dickanthropus and you, my dear, are about to be subject to a most thorough porking."

You lowered your voice, soft and breathy.

"Oh my, Hortensius, I don't know how my poor little flower will take all of that."

Astarion dropped to a predatory crouch, crawling over to you. His grin was wide, canines toothily on display.

"Ah, my blushing maid, don't be shy! I may have a horse's cock, but I'm going to be as delicate as a pixie."

You covered your breasts in false modesty as he sidled down alongside you.

"A pixie? I saw a pixie in my bushes last week. They're so ... naughty. And fast. Are you going to piston me into the middle of next week, Hortensius?"

"With pleasure. I'm going to piston you like the Steel Watch itself is between your legs - "

Your composure gave way and you slapped at his shoulder.

"Not the fucking Steel Watch, for God's sake - "

"Why?" His fingers danced over your hips. "Maybe create another little Foundry down here - "

You're now shaking with laughter and Astarion watched you, the cheeky smirk slipping by inches, eyes kindling with an infinite warmth and adoration that only you are party to. You realised, as your mirth faded, that you had been carrying a great deal of tension too, and that he'd effectively dragged it away from you, deconstructing the last barrier; your fear of hurting him.

In spite of your earlier fervour, you clasped his cheeks between your palms and pressed his forehead to yours, staying like that for a while. He did not object, nose nudging sweetly against yours.

"Astarion, I want to try something."

"Go ahead."

In truth, you'd learned this minor illusion from Gale, whose knowing smile had almost had you running for the hills when you'd first asked him to teach it to you.

Fingers extending upward, you closed your eyes and focused on the Weave, drawing it closer to you, shaping with precision. Astarion exclaimed softly and you dropped your hand, ready to behold your work.

A fall of many-hued petals, delicate as snow, drifted down from the roof of the tent, each disappearing as they settled on the bedroll and your reclining forms. A pleasant scent, earthy and reminiscent of a forest clearing in the springtime, permeated the air. Soft golden motes danced between you, each emitting a delicate luminosity.

Astarion was watching the display with amused delight, allowing you to catch him off guard. Tipping him over onto his back, you took in the sight of him, fully nude, satiny skin and curls dusted in the remnants of illusory wildflowers, indigo, variegated red and yellow, rich royal purple and the dusky blush of dawn.

"You're so lovely. And free."

You banished petals with your caress, all the way down to the perfectly carved valley of his pelvis.

"I want the world to stand still when I look at you because there's no room for anything else in my mind."

He stopped you with a finger to the lips, rising so that you were both lying on your sides, facing each other. He wore his composure well, through long habit, but there was something wild and desperately cast in his eyes.

"And I'm free because of you. Don't you forget it."

This time, nothing interrupted the slide of his skin on yours, the crushing, breathless intimacy that knew no bounds. There was no artifice here, no subtle trick or sly gleam of eyes watching you beneath hooded lids.

Astarion kept your faces close together, watching every contortion of your features, drinking you in and opening himself to you entirely. He raised your leg onto his hip, still facing you as his fingers slipped down, down, between your bodies.

You gasped as he stroked over your folds, his mouth coming down on your throat. His fangs sunk in, only breaking the surface, right at the moment his fingers breached you. Crying out, you clung to him, drawing answering moans as he rocked against you.

His lips brushed yours, un-coordinated, wet against the sides of your mouth. You tasted the slight metallic tinge of your own blood, lost in heady ecstasy as the heat of his exhalation mingled with yours, rough and uneven. He nudged you when your head tilted back, keeping your eyes on him.

His fingers were now coated with the dewiness of your arousal, and he dragged them up between you again, surprising you with just how wet he had made you in such a short time. You watched, breath hitching, as he slid them over his own hardened flesh, tracing pearly fluid down from the tip, coating himself.

You turned to lie on your back, but firm fingers grasped your hip, holding you in place. He tugged your leg further up on his waist, earning a soft gasp. You're more accessible to him like this, more vulnerable.

"Darling, I can't wait any - "

"Astarion, please."

Your soft plea triggered an almost animalistic movement from him, as he ground upwards, pushing against your entrance. You were almost sobbing now, clutching at him, begging him. At his mercy, you bit your lip hard when he worked himself in, sliding into the tight grasp of your heat.

He was trembling, you realise, ecstasy and agony in equal measure, chasing each other across his face as he pushed deeper, burying himself within you, staying with you. Even with the intensity of what you were both feeling, he kept you in place, the hand that had stroked you now holding your thigh over him.

He began a measured pace that quickly devolved to one of instinct, slowing down so that you clenched around him, speeding up until your back arched, swallowing your disjointed whispers as he watched you come undone, and in doing so, came apart himself.

In this golden time, you understood that you have never been more completely aware of another, of the muscle that rippled under alabaster skin, of the rapidly cooling sweat on his chest, of the way his scent wound around you, the way his body moved against and inside yours. He had taken your blood into himself, so many times, consumed you in so many different ways, and yet, this was wholly new.

Astarion wasn't teasing you endlessly. He wasn't bringing you to the brink, and releasing you, which was his specialty, as you're fully aware. He's throwing himself headlong into the passion of a true union, every thrust bringing you both closer to the dazzling precipice.

He was reckless in his lovemaking, somehow striking that balance between base urgency and shattering tenderness. You could see the building euphoria when your eyes met his, the knowledge that this moment belonged to both of you, untainted, spun out in indestructible threads that bound you to each other.

You were close. You let him know, through the pale crescents your nails left on his shoulder and side, through the way your voice rose, the way your hardened nipples pushed into him as your whole body stiffened and prepared for mind-numbing, white-hot pleasure, the way you took his fingers into your mouth with hedonistic abandon.

He drank it all in, tracking every movement, every glimmering bead of sweat, every minute crease between your brows. Fighting back years of conditioning, he held you impossibly closer, your body a shield against the memory of every meaningless, sordid encounter.

Your eyes dragged open, tears glistening where they had gathered at the corners, slipping down across the bridge of your nose, bringing the sight of his face to sudden clarity.

You let him see it, all of it; the moment your climax crashed like a wave over every sense, that most secret of faces. You let him see that he was the only one who could bring you to this place, this endless horizon that curved across your vision like a shard of jacinth.

Astarion was now gasping endearments. They fell from his lips in a litany, one declaration melding into another. You held onto him as your own mind slowly cleared, senses thrumming with the aftermath of the pleasure he had brought you.

He was close.

You surrendered complete control to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hips lifted from the bedroll in fitful abandon, his teeth sinking into your shoulder and releasing.

"My ... my sweet, I'm - ah - you're so - don't know what you - "

At any other time, seeing Astarion, with his mastery of seductive words that bordered on legendary, in this barely coherent state, would have been cause for wonder indeed. As with all else, however, you took things as they were, treasured them.

Here, with you, he didn't have to be that. Here, he needed no flowery phrases and practiced gestures. Here, he was yours, in wiry strength and hidden fragility, in biting humour and those rare moments of stark realism, when he did his best to protect you from a world who's cruelty he had experienced all too many times.

When he finally reached his peak, lips drawn  back from teeth, brow furrowed in supreme pleasure, tendons standing out on his neck as a series of guttural sounds escaped him, you smoothed your hands up and down his back, bringing him slowly back to you.

You pressed soft kisses across his nose, along his jawline, his body giving one last shudder as your lips ghosted over his ear and you nuzzled into his hair. Regaining focus, his gaze fixed on your face, a slow, radiant smile gathered, a stray ray of sunshine burning through overcast skies.

Something bubbled up in his chest, overflowed into the almost non-existent space between your bodies. A peal of laughter, so bright, so free of pain, lancing through you like the keen point of an arrow, the barbs lodging somewhere deep in your chest.

You could listen to him laugh like this forever.

He finally released you, rolling over onto his back, that same giddy smile refusing to diminish. One of his arms extended, drawing you close so that your head now rested on his chest, your shoulders encased in the solid curve of his arm.

"My love, my light, that was - "

His chest heaved again, and his head moved from side to side in cheerful disbelief. You couldn't help the grin that broke across your own countenance.

"Careful, Astarion. You sound happier than the first time you drank from me."

"But this is better! This is - "

His enthusiasm cut off, faster than words escaped him. Something choked him, held the rest of sentence prisoner until he took a heavy breath, released it. The catch in his voice added strength to your grip on him.

"This is perfect. This is ... everything I want it to be."

You remained silent, not trusting your own voice now. When he spoke again, it was so soft that you almost missed the words.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. Never for this."

Later, as the outside intruded once again into the sanctity of your tent, when the rustle of the wind in the trees, the crack of new firewood given up to the hungry flames of the campfire and the distant song of nocturnal birds echoed back to you, you placed your hand over where his heart should beat.

It had been somewhat disconcerting, the first time you'd felt the lack of that steady rhythm beneath your fingertips. Now, however, you felt something entirely different.

This was no empty void, no echoing palace of yesterday's torment. Astarion had come so much further than that. He was here, beside you, of his own free will. There was no such thing as true emptiness, not in a life as rich as this one, that of a man who had given up so much to walk, just once more, in the sun.

No. This space where vitality should make itself known was threaded through with so many scars, but from that barren landscape, verdant new growth came, tended carefully. You could see how it stole over him, and you, in every shared touch, every wound bandaged, every battle fought side by side, every new delight you found in each other.

It came like a thief, robed in night, and laughed as it took the title of queen, enthroning itself in your hearts. It had taken up the sceptre, usurped your earthly kingdom and banished all notion of loneliness.

Such was the nature of love, and so it would remain, until that final red sunrise came to claim you both.

@tattoo-of-a-bird Finally got the courage to write this one.