#:( peace is conditional on your absence :(

[efoyisk]

thor 1 & 2 loki come back the kids miss you

#ill always say that dw loki is my favourite but </3 young prince loki </3 #which is crazy to say because it's like what #two years difference by earth's reckoning #I JUST #he was such a sneaky bitch in t1 i loved him #:( father is dead :( #:( peace is conditional on your absence :(

[gothicminxx]

Satosugu x afab! Reader

Word count: 5.2K

CW: Angst with comfort, mentions of blood, major character death, polyamory, mentions of established relationship with Gojo, pet names (angel, pretty girl, my girl, sweet girl, etc.), instead of Y/N Name will be used instead, all around sad af

Part 2 here

Summary: Has a connection to the movie JJK 0, similar but not quite.

I think of Satosugu and I sob.

Hope you enjoy!

Twilight arrived over the horizon, painting the sky of soft purples mixed with pink and blue. Mountain tops capped off with sheets of white that sparkled underneath the setting sun. Silence loomed overhead with the subtle sounds of a breeze, the air crisp with a harsh bite. The grass is glacial from the previous snowfall a few hours ago.

But the world was covered in darkness as the giant hand that pertained to Satoru lay flatly over your eyes, sitting in between his legs on a rock. A habit that he had formed in recent years to mollify the bitter head of anxiety that crippled your body. When the thoughts began to race and the hammering of your heart refused to disperse from your side, Satoru placed his hand over your eyes. The rasp of his voice tickled your ear as he requested you focus, following his deep breaths, and hushed praises for succeeding. When the dark silence consumed the crevices of your brain it pacified the cavernous void that Suguru left behind. The reason for every apprehensive thought that consumed the confinements of your brain. A gaping hole resided in the depths of your pumping heart, one he had overfilled before-- a spilling pool of red wine: warm, gentle, and welcoming, the essence of pertaining to two lovers.

Satoru shared the absence of light with you simply by covering your eyes. He wore blindfolds to protect his six eyes, to keep the core of his energy balanced so as to not fatigue himself, he experienced the bliss of darkness daily listening to the calmness of his breath, the steadiness of his heart, and the sounds of his surroundings. It was peaceful when things seemed to spiral out of control, tensions at an all time high giving Satoru that moment to ease his mind. It was the only thing he could think to do to alleviate the strain of life that gnawed at you constantly like a tender cut of meat.

The coolness of this year's harsh winter stung your cheeks, penetrating at the surface to numb your whole face. You placed your hands on top of Satoru’s, holding it in place to increase the darkness, focusing on the environment you found yourself in. Snow that the wind carried tickled your skin, dampening it slightly as the flakes melted. The comfort of your puffy jacket and beanie kept you toasty to endure the frozen conditions, but in this very moment the cold brought you solace as you embraced the blackness. You could feel the warmth of Satoru’s chest radiate into your back like a warm blanket, the breeze that blew on the side of your face howled softly, swooshing of powdered snowflakes followed. The plateau you and Satoru sat in was desolate of noise, it calmed the erratic beat of your heart and soothed the harrowing thoughts in your mind.

Since Suguru’s impetuous departure from the both of you things had been difficult, words left unsaid with various questions that had gone unanswered. An empty spot on the bed that used to belong to him had now turned cold and desperately clung onto his scent, you and Satoru had found yourselves leaving that space open, as if he’d ever walk through the front door again and reclaim the life he once had. His hoodies still hung up in the closet, his toothbrush still had a spot in the holder, boxes of his favorite tea littered the cabinet-- you preferred coffee, and Satoru liked soda. Suguru’s things were left untouched in your home, things he left behind, and things you and Satoru held onto tightly; protecting the last bit of residue on those items.

Satoru snaked his free arm around, pressing his palm flatly against your abdomen, fingertips caressing the polyester fabric of the puffer jacket that adorned your frame. He gently removed his hand from your eyes as he felt you relax in his hold, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder. The world had come back into your view, the sky had become a darker shade of blue accompanied by a few stars that twinkled. The sun had fully hid behind the snowy mountain range taking away the last bit of warmth it had offered in the winter months. Satoru had insisted on taking you far from the city today despite the ice on the roads, the sunken bags underneath your eyes had prompted worry that he could not ignore. You were the only thing keeping him sane since Suguru had left, Satoru had grown petrified of losing you too. He could sense the ugly cloud of melancholy looming over your head, the way you slouched at the kitchen table-- barely touching the food on your plate, a frown etched on your lips, and tears left to dry on your cheeks. The way you stared at Suguru’s spot in bed wearing one of his hoodies, the yearning and agony you felt all too evident to him that he had to get you away from home for a few hours.

He had always been better at tucking away his emotions so as to not worry you. But Satoru felt the same agony, the cavernous hole in his heart that felt as though a knife had stabbed through and ripped a chunk out. The bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste that it didn’t matter how many times he brushed his teeth; it remained. That each time he smelled Jasmine or cedar wood he immediately burst into tears, teeth piercing his bottom lip as he tried to mollify the dreary emotions that raked his body. Oftentimes he found himself wearing Suguru’s clothes, wrapping his arms around his own body and pretending as though it was Suguru comforting him. Satoru grieved the relationship that once was, in silence, wanting to be strong for you, the most precious thing in his life. You needed Satoru more than anything in moments where you barely found the strength to get out of bed. When anxiety consumed you like the last meal on earth, he had to be strong for you.

Placing a kiss to your cold cheek Satoru hummed, “You calm now, angel?” He held you tighter in his embrace, shutting his eyes to engrave every curve of your body, the warmth you provided as you sat in between his legs, and your scent. The trepidation he felt of losing you too was one that made him lose his appetite.

Leaning your head back on his shoulder, your eyes followed the depth of the night sky, each star glimmering like a diamond. With the darkness the cold in the plateau stung your face, your nose runny and icy to the touch, but you could only focus on Satoru’s arms, “Yes, shutting out the world always seems to help,” A small smile reached your lips, “Thank you.”

Intertwining your gloved hands together he brought the back to his lips placing a kiss there making your heart flutter. Since Suguru deserted his lovers, through the agony and stabbing wound in one's heart, you still had Satoru. The six eyes refused to leave your side even for a moment, clinging onto you as a sort of life support.

The anguish was evident in his cerulean eyes, deep purple bags had found their home under his eyes, hidden under a blindfold so as to not worry his students— to worry you. Even if a part of his heart clung onto the memory of Suguru, the rest was yours. Glowing sun of warmth that caressed his cheek, holding him tightly to always feel the ardor of your heart. Lulling the anxiety he felt with lingering kisses, fingers tangled in snowy white tuffs, and the sound of your sweet voice covered in honey— speaking saccharine words.

Even if he tried to hide from you, keeping his emotions tucked away in a metal safe— you knew, of course you saw right through him. Having the privilege of meeting Satoru Gojo years ago meant understanding every single emotion he felt. A strong intuition to sense when something was off, he never truly spoke about it, only on the rare occasion of dawn drawing near, his eyes half lidded, and voice coaxed of sleep that he spoke— tired of the torment of a racing mind. You would hold him tightly in your arms, resting your chin on his hair as he sobbed into your chest, allowing his emotions to ripple like a waterfall. He was yours, you wanted to be there as much as he was there for you.

His giant hand cupped your cheek, leading your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and filled with love, Satoru’s tongue was warm as it found yours, eager to taste more of you to have more of you— he couldn’t get enough. He held you tight, pressing against your abdomen as it bunched up the polyester fabric in between his fingers. His thumb caressing your cheekbone, kissing you was a piece of heaven; Satoru’s sanctuary. The way his lips connected to yours reminded him that you were perfect for him in every sense of the way. That you were still here with him.

Satoru pulled away, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed but a goofy smile was ever present, his heart thudding loudly he truly believed you could hear it, light pink dusted his pale skin, “My girl. Mine.” He murmured, attaching his lips to yours once more.

It was moments like these that you truly cherished, engraving his every word into your brain like a chanted prayer. Satoru was here to stay, he could not imagine parting from you; it wasn’t possible.

Together you grieved Suguru, the fallen angel that had big aspirations of changing the world for the better. Ideals that you could not see eye to eye on, the raven haired man swore up and down it was a world for his lovers. Even if it seemed selfish at the time he would burn down the entire world for you and Satoru. If it had meant taking the life of the innocent— the weak, for those he loved, he’d do it over and over again. But the question had always remained: Would either of you do the same?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The sun blazed down on the asphalt in a persistent manner, the heat waves radiated off of the dark pavement that burned the soles of shoes. Summer was unforgiving this year, humid and sickly that shade did little to provide an escape. The metal bleachers burned to the touch from constant heat smacking against them, the grass seemed as the only comforting place to sit underneath a Japanese cedar tree. Strands of green sticking to your thighs that you regretted wearing a skirt, almost.

First grade Jujutsu students practiced their combat skill in the enormous field, sweat dripping down their faces after an hour of intense training. The new student Yuta Okkotsu showed promise— improving his cursed energy little by little. Satoru had taken a liking to him, a powerful curse that followed him around— killing those that harmed him without a second glance. Your husband had a soft spot for teenagers that had a tough life, a man that could come off as arrogant had a huge heart. A few weeks ago Satoru had come to you, announcing he would be pleading Yuta’s case to avoid an execution even if it meant losing his job. You could never argue with him, standing next to him as you petitioned for the young boy as well.

Training had gone as any other day, students complaining about the heat but refusing to go inside— each competitive. Satoru stood with Yaga on the far end of the field coaching Maki and Yuta, while you and Shoko sat under a tree watching over Toge and Panda. The smell of tobacco wafted into your nostrils as Shoko lit up another cigarette, stating it would help with her irritation as she wiped sweat from her brow. Your fingers found the roots of grass to slowly pick at it, a distraction from the unbearable heat that made your body feel as if it would combust into flames.

Leaning back on your elbows you sighed loudly, throwing your head back further into the shade to look at the intricate leaves— hiding from the wretched sun. “How much longer are we going to torture the students in this goddamn heat?” Shoko groaned beside you.

“‘Dunno, until one of us drives Yaga up the wall with our complaining.” You chuckled, “Knowing Satoru I’d say soon.”

Due to Satoru being born in the winter season the six eyes preferred the cold and icy snow over the blistering heat. He thrived at the first snowfall, dragging you out of the warmth of your cozy bed to admire the sheet of white. His long legs would race to the backyard without the proper clothing to handle the freezing temperatures, slender fingers grabbing a handful of snow to feel the cool softness on his flesh. He’d spend a few hours outside admiring it with childlike wonder, you would oftentimes fight him to come inside as if he were a husky— stubborn and flourishing in the snow. It wouldn’t surprise you if your husband was currently throwing a fit about the sweltering heat to Yaga.

Booming voices ricocheted from the trees in the field, snapping you out of your thoughts. Shoko’s ears perched giving you a confused glance as she licked her finger to put out her cigarette, “What could that be?” She wondered.

Together you stood, requesting Toge and Panda to follow along in case it happened to be something serious. Sweat decorated your brow as the impending heat found you, raising the temperature within the confinements of your body. In the distance a large bird bigger than a human flapped its wings, the radiant golden color catching in the sun, throwing its head back to emit a loud squawk from its enormous beak. Bodies of students surrounded the creature, tuffs of milky white hair came into view as his tall lanky figure pushed past bodies. From where you walked you could see the tension in his shoulders, jaw clenched, and fists white-- something was wrong.

The length of your legs began to take lager hurried strides, loud pounding rang in your ears from the erratic beating of your heart. Heads turned as you drew closer, wandering eyes with a look of confusion stared back at you, “Satoru, long time no see!” A silky voice called, sweet like honey, a soft melody to listen to. A voice that closed up your throat, heart dropping to the depths of your stomach, eyes stinging with ocean water because it had been so long since you had heard it. The voice that comforted you when a tough day crossed your path, made you laugh until you cried, talked you through it in moments of ecstasy, and spoke sweet nothings to you.

As you pushed your way into the circle Satoru stood taut, a white blindfold covered his cerulean eyes, expression hard to read but his tight jaw spoke for him. You followed his gaze, time had frozen still as long raven hair met your eyes, glistening in the light of the sun. A smile adorned his features as he greeted Satoru with an arm around Yuta’s shoulder, he had yet to notice you. It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the familiar face, had him in close radius. “Suguru?” Your voice barely above a whisper, cracking pathetically towards the end.

His attention drifted towards you, “Name, it’s been a while.” The smile he wore faded the moment brown eyes truly caught a glimpse of you, the sight nearly broke his heart. You looked on the verge of tears, the yearning to run into his arms was evident as your hand blindly reached out-- but you held back, taking a hold of Satoru’s sleeve too paralyzed to move. The white haired man placed a protective arm on your waist as if to challenge Suguru to take a step further to either of you. But in truth Satoru would break down if given the opportunity, trying his best to remain strong, to come off as intimidating to the man that ripped his heart open; you both knew this.

“Step away from those kids right now, Suguru.” Satoru’s voice held a stern edge, the man in front of him was the only one that could affect the usual confident demeanor he had.

Suguru held back a smirk as he slowly removed his arm from Yuta, “ I heard the first years were quite special, it seems you still have an eye for talent, Satoru.”

Your gaze was fixed on the raven haired man, it felt like a sick joke, one that your mind deemed fit as a punishment for past mistakes you had once made. He looked different than before, his hair was much longer, reaching his waist. The purple eye bags and look of misery that had become a part of him almost a decade ago had disappeared, his skin practically glowing, he looked happier-- cockier than the man you once knew. You wanted to be as calm as Satoru, to appear stoic and un-bothered but the air felt heavy, the lump in your throat had formed so thick that it was nearly impossible to swallow back. For a decade you still found yourself grieving his sudden departure, the closure he had refused to give you and Satoru, leaving nothing behind but memories and a freezing empty spot in bed. “What are you doing here?” You asked, voice hostile yet the sense of longing was still there.

He tore his gaze from Satoru avoiding your watery eyes over to his entourage, “I came to declare war,” Suguru put it simply, “Five days from now I’ll be in Kyoto, I hope to see you all there.”

“A war?” Shoko scoffed, “Your ideals truly have gone to your head.”

“I’m simply creating a better world.” Suguru’s words left a bitter taste in your mouth, like rusty metal that had sat out in the sun long forgotten for an extended period of time. He no longer sounded like himself, his voice remained velvety and yet, the disconnect of the man he used to be was immense. It had brought you back to the time you were once a student, noticing his distant demeanor with hazy eyes that he looked unrecognizable. He closed in on himself, shutting you and Satoru out. Most nights had been spent sleeping on the couch or too wired as he stayed up an entire night frantically scribbling gibberish in his journal-- ideas to cleanse the world of the weak. He refused the assistance of the comforting arms of his lovers, rejecting their words of reassurance. Suguru had lost a drastic amount of weight, the churning of his stomach accompanied by a burning in his throat that kept him away from consuming food. He had become a shell of himself until one day his radio silence became permanent; leaving his lovers to fend for themselves without another word.

Only for him to return months later in the crowded square of downtown Tokyo claiming that it was all for his lovers. The world he was creating was the perfect one for those he cared about, asking to accompany him in the journey of discovering it together, only to be met by your tears and Satoru’s anger. It was the irreparable end of a relationship.

Biting your bottom lip harshly, you could taste the tang of metallic blood on your tongue, holding Satoru’s sleeve tighter, only for the milky haired man to search for your hand to intertwine your fingers-- squeezing it tightly, he could feel your agony, resentment, and pining. Focusing on his features, you wanted to burn them into your memory, hold them close to your heart because you would be damned if you forgot his face, “I think it’s time for you to go, Suguru.” You muttered, digging your nails into the palm of your hand imprinting crescent moons in the flesh; fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as you urged the man that still owned half of your heart to go.

Silence loomed overhead as Suguru processed the words that escaped your lips; soft that he almost missed them, how desperately he wanted to ignore them to take you and Satoru in his arms and make things better. The version of him you had known before was gone, that man was no longer a part of who he truly was, the weak and strong simply could not co-exist. Why couldn’t either of you understand that for his own selfish reasons, this was all for you? He turned on his heel, sauntering over to the enormous bird, only turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of the two people he adored the most, “I’ll see you in Kyoto. Until next time.” With that the creature expanded its wings, descending in the air with the man that still held onto your hearts.

Satoru watched as the massive bird disappeared into nothingness, the stitches in his heart that had once existed ripped open-- crimson blood gushing out, the ache unbearable. Holding your smaller hand tightly he began to walk toward the direction of his classroom, a small sob escaped your lips before you tried your best to hide it but he had heard it. The tall man stopped, only to see your pretty face covered in fat tears with quivering lips as you tried to fight off dramatic sobs. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Satoru cooed, bending down to envelope you in his arms. His large hand cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair as he held you tightly. He buried his nose in your hair, a small tear falling from his own eye but he was quick to wipe it.

“I- I miss him,‘Toru,” You choked out,“So much.”

“Me too, angel, me too.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩

Dark gray clouds covered the sky, leaving Kyoto in complete darkness. The sounds of war engulfed the city with crumbling buildings, destroyed vehicles, and thick clouds of smoke from small fires that had started. The perfect distraction Suguru had created to get to Yuta, it hadn’t registered in your minds that it had been his plan to get everyone away from the vicinity of Jujutsu High School.

You stood in a medical building to assist in healing those injured alongside Shoko, gifted the same ability of reversed curse technique with the upper hand of bringing those back from the dead on rare occasions. A skill you had spent most of your life trying to achieve, it had only been possible with the help of Tengen and Satoru. The consequences of cheating death had yet to show themselves to you, bringing back countless from watery graves— a draining task that consumed most of your cursed energy for a few days, it wasn’t used often.

Crouching over a severely injured fourth grade student the grand glass door of the building opened, as footsteps scrambled to deliver another injured student you felt the familiar cursed energy of your husband. “I have to go back to Jujutsu High, he set this whole thing up. Suguru is after Yuta.” He stated, gritting his teeth.

“I’m coming with you.” The urgency in your voice was hard to miss.

Satoru could only shake his head, holding his hand up to stop you from coming any closer to him, “No, it’s too dangerous, Name. Stay here and treat the wounded.”

He was always overprotective of you, your safety had always been the six eyes priority only growing ten fold the moment Suguru abandoned the both of you. You understood, but at the same time you weren’t weak, classified as a special grade two weeks after attending school. Training day in and day out when it came to combat, craving to be as perfect as Satoru and Suguru— the two strongest sorcerers. “I don’t care! I’m going with you and that’s final.” You had always been stubborn, constantly standing your ground and refusing any form of rejection when it came to proving yourself. It was a trait Satoru adored about you, but oftentimes it drove him crazy with worry, he knew you were strong but you were the last person he had besides Megumi.

Determination painted your features, clenching your fists at your side to show Satoru you weren’t going to give up. He couldn’t argue with his beautiful wife, especially with the way you looked at him as if you would follow him to the ends of the Earth. “So stubborn.” He huffed, taking your hand before teleporting the both of you to Jujutsu High.

It was silent the moment you arrived on campus grounds the smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as you walked hand in hand. A knot formed in your gut as if it were signaling you that something had gone terribly wrong, it made you tighten your hold on Satoru’s hand. The silence was deafening as the residue of a previous battle remained in the air and grubble of buildings.

Turning the corner of vacant buildings, you could see a figure in the distance covered in crimson liquid, missing a limb, long raven hair a disheveled mess as his signature bun had come undone, “You guys are late as usual.” Suguru weakly chuckled, clutching his side.

“The students in Kyoto were under your control?” Satoru asked, though he held no confusion, you both knew the answer.

Suguru leaned back on a cement wall letting out a ragged breath, “Yes, they all were.”

Letting go of Satoru’s hand you couldn’t care less about the things Suguru had done, the misery he caused when he disappeared, or even those he hurt. Your vision became blurry with tears as you took in his condition, bloodied and bruised as he struggled to maintain a steady breath. You could not bear to listen to much more, this time you had allowed yourself to run to Suguru as you had longed since seeing him on school grounds five days ago. Not giving Satoru a moment to think as he watches your figure bolt for the raven haired man.

Kneeling in front of him your arms wrapped around his neck bringing his body close to yours, without hesitation he wrapped his arm around your waist burying his bloodied face in your neck. The smell of jasmine and cedarwood welcomed you, the scent that had always belonged to him, the one that caused a sob to escape your lips. “You idiot.” You cried into his hair, clutching him tightly, afraid to let go and discover that he was a figment of your imagination.

You were warm, skin silky soft— he had forgotten how good it felt to have you in his arms, if he was being honest with himself he had forgotten your scent, how sweet and delicate it was. “There’s my sweet girl.” Suguru croaked, after a decade of pushing away the hurt he caused himself for leaving, was finally flooding out. Trembling as he hugged you tightly, burning your scent, curves, and hair into his memory. A treasure he’d lock up and guard with his entire being.

“I can fix it, let me fix it… let me heal you.” You begged, cupping his cheeks, blood staining your hands.

“Name, you can’t.” Satoru whispered, tilting his head down.

“What?! No, I'm going to fix h-“

Before you could finish your sentence Suguru took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, “It’s for the best, angel.”

You shook your head frantically, sobbing loudly as you looked between Satoru and Suguru, begging to not allow it to end this way. Burying your face in Suguru’s neck, closing your eyes as if to wish to wake up from this nightmare. To wake in your huge bed with them on either side of you, each wrapped around you as they slept soundly. The harsh cold breeze flowing in through your window as it snowed outside, dreading the moment Satoru woke up because he’d drag the two of you outside. Wanting a life back that once was, when Suguru was content with the things he had, when the two of you were enough for him, just one more time.

Suguru grabbed your hand, swaying your two bodies together. Noticing the rays of sunshine bouncing off of a rather large diamond on your finger nearly blinding him, he took a moment to admire it, chuckling bitterly as a wave of jealousy flooded over him. “My love’s got married.” Suguru could only blame himself for abandoning you both, envious he wouldn’t be able to share the Gojo last name with the both of you. A part of him was truly happy for you two, moving on after his selfish act. It wouldn’t have been fair to request either of you to remain stagnant.

“In October two years ago.” Satoru smiled sadly, twiddling with the diamond band on his ring finger. Proud to call you his wife, to be the one to take care of you and cherish moments spent together. It hurt that Suguru couldn’t be a part of it.

“I can fix you… then… then we can try to mend everything. Sugu please.” You choked.

But the decision had been made for you, the conclusion that Suguru was on death’s doorstep had become destiny in the moment. Your pleas and cries went unanswered even if it pained both of the men to cause such agony for you. In the end Suguru no longer had the ability to change, too stuck in his ideals to let them go. “I still love you.” You weeped.

Suguru’s heart sank at your words, even after the crimes he had commited and the torture he had put you through your emotions remained in tact, “I love you too.” The raven haired man kisses your temple, “and I love you, ‘Toru.”

A few tears had finally escaped his cerulean eyes, “I love you too… I’m sorry.”

A flash of purple came into your peripheral vision, the ringing in your ears was painful. Time had slowed as Suguru’s muscular body fell limp in your arms, the look of horror on your face was one that Satoru would remember forever. A loud scream erupted from your lungs that it felt as though they’d rip open at the seams, oxygen became impossible to inhale as you wailed out to the sky clutching his lifeless body in your arms. “No! No, ‘Toru… no. Suguru please,” The only thing you could muster was to beg and wail, preparing to use the entirety of your cursed energy to bring back your dead lover.

But Satoru pulled you away before you could do anything, holding your flailing body in his arms as he howled alongside you. He would hold onto this guilt for the rest of his life, ripping Suguru away from your lives as he meant nothing when he was everything would tear him to shreds. Suguru had perished by his own hands, he felt like a monster. All he could do was throw you over his shoulder and listen to the heart wrenching wails that left you as he dragged you away from Suguru.

He’d never forgive himself.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#satosugu #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk #satorugojo #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #geto x reader #multi #polyamory #angst #jjk 0 #love #two parter #x reader #anime #comfort angst #comfort #afab reader

[lineffability]

He grows tomatoes.

Well, he tries to. Crowley does not usually try to grow plants. He decides to grow them, and they obey. It's vendetta ad vengeance at once. But lately, nothing seems to obey his will. It's weak, that will, broken into smithereens just like his heart.

And he can't even take it out on his plants. That's because Crowley has mercy.

So he tries to grow tomatoes.

It's summer (the first summer without him) and he has lodged in an airbnb in the country, and behind an old ramshackle ram-shack he has made himself a little plot of land. Well - it's all God's stupidly green earth, isn't it. But this two by two piece of earth he claims for himself. He could have at least that, right? He looks up at the sky. Frowns.

Let me have at least that.

Aziraphale liked to do things the hard way. (He's still doing that, Crowley supposes, up there. Up there. He's not dead, but it feels like it. He's gone. Gone to Heaven. Not to a better place.) Aziraphale liked to do it properly, the human way, when it pleased him. Which was often, but not always. French. Nom de dieu de merde. Pardon his French.

Pardon his stupid everything.

Crowley inspects his tomato plants. He's trying to grow them the human way. Funny, that. He nurses them like he nurses his heart, and miracles won't do. He's tried.

I think I should not be encouraged to grow tomatoes, he thinks.

Raindrops fall on red and green: the plants and the vines and the tomatoes and his hair. It's August, it shouldn't be raining this much. It's been a shitty August. It's been a shitty year. Thirteen months and two weeks and one day, to be exact. Not like he's keeping count. Why bother?

There's a spot on one of the leaves, and Crowley's heart sinks before it even had the chance to ever rise. It's only one tiny, dark, black spot, but he knows what it means. It means it's too late.

A horrible month. A horrible life. Not the right conditions to thrive. Disease, showing its ugly head, grinning. It's already too late. It's always too late. It would multiply and spread. It has already spread, underneath. Invisible to visible. It won't take long, now.

His soul is a tomato leaf.

Black as grief.

He's tended these seedlings, he's raised them, and planted them, too, and here they are before him tall and proud and still alive, and Crowley knows they are already dying. He can relate.

The sensible thing to do would be to discard it all, be done with them. It's not worth the effort, technically, to keep them alive. But to Crowley it's worth it. It has to be. They are worth it. He is worth it. Stupid stubborn perseverance, stupid stubborn hopeful heart.

He isn't immune to foreshadowing. He looks up again. Angry, this time, bitter. A bit of surrender, too.

The rain drips and drops on his face.

He looks back down, snaps the sickly leaf off with expert fingers. Continues to tend to the plants, as he will until they inevitably die. He plucks a tiny tomato. It's so small, fragile, one of the first of a doomed harvest: but it tastes sweet.

Determined, Crowley continues his labor of love, patient as with all living things.

He is responsible for these vines.

Maybe, despite everything, just maybe, he can nurture his heart back to health. (And maybe, just maybe, he is not human and does not do things the human way. When it pleases him. He's always been a rebel. Just a little miracle, a little bit of life-giving defiance. So small no one notices, not even us.) Crowley smiles.

He grows tomatoes.

.

This ficlet was inspired by Louise Glück's Vespers. May she rest in peace. "In your extended absence, you permit me use of earth, anticipating some return on investment. I must report failure in my assignment, principally regarding the tomato plants." read the full poem here

#good omens #crowley (good omens) #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #my writing #inefficable

[tearskillstardust]

❝MY LETTER TO YOU, MY DARLING❞

019. 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑—peacock and gold, yet prettier is his lotus.

📬 there's a letter for you in your mailbox!

Dear Love My Lotus,

There is little to be regarded about sumeru, even more so during these duller months when all are engaged more in academic or business pursuits than anything. Fontaine should be livelier, considering how it is the land of the endless masquerade. You're aware— I would hope so for all your clever banter— that I would have indulged your request and went there with you, but the atmosphere simply isn't one I can adjust to, and I wouldn't want to be at a place with you where we cannot entertain ourselves in peace.

This brings to my next concern—admittedly weird considering how you're more the sort to give others headaches—which is, your migraines. I spoke to Lesser Lord Kusanali for it, then a few doctors and then that friend of yours, Tighnari, and came to a simple conclusion. The herbs I've attached in the brown sachet, when mixed in the given fixed proportions (strictly speaking), are highly effective for reducing the frequency and intensity of the headaches. Consume it as soon as you wake up, before brushing. This is quite reliable but I'll be looking for other alternatives that work better by the time you come. I considered this must be of help, remembering how many regard fontainians as dramatic fools.

All things aside now, the sabzeruz festival is coming. You're aware I don't like participating in festivals, but! I'll relent this one time, because you seem to enjoy this festival too much to be deprived from the joy.

But on one condition.

We also spend some time alone in the woods; you remember that small cabin we bought some time back? there; in the (long— yes, speaking spitefully) time you've been gone, I've managed to get that place furnished. Kaveh insisted to help out, considering how you're his 'bff', but then I insisted that I was your partner, and that I had the ultimate say in how the place was decorated. Don't fret, it's to your taste. Only the curtains and fabrics are left, which I figured you'd handle better. I've attached some samples of the silks to be used, after refining them from a useless bunch, and the choice to use any of them rests with you. They all go well with the rest of the palette. I have no biases or inclinations, so keep your mind free of that. Whatever you choose is the ultimatum.

I'll welcome you with gold; remember the set you wanted to buy last spring? You already had bought so much that you wouldn't have needed it then, but I've bought it this time. It would look quite well with the gold lined dress you like to wear—the one with the fancy peacock imprints. Sabzeruz is approaching after all—a bit unromantic to not buy you something.

Give me your gift and come back as soon as possible. forget I ever said this, but I miss you. I keep forgetting how Kusanali acts more like a mother than anything, and your absence in reminding me of it.

Hoping to see you as soon as possible,

Yours,

Wanderer.

[p.s.] Kaveh is fine, Nilou is fine, the Scribe is fine, Tighnari is fine and Cyno is fine.

taglist→ @navxry

please comment on the master post to be added to the taglist, thank you !

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #💌my letter to you my darling #wanderer genshin #wanderer #scarameow #kunikuzushi #scaramouche #scara #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n

[rosewould]

one way; cbg

part i | part ii | part iii

🖊️⇝ pairing; afab!reader x beomgyu

🖊️⇝ word count; 17.3k

🖊️⇝ genre; enemies 2 lovers, smut, & angst

🖊️⇝synopsis; things have gotten much more complicated in a relationship that spawned from simplicity

🖊️⇝ warnings; thoughts of suicide and murder, brief descriptions of gore, PIV, balls in mouth, lots of kissing, not super smut heavy, manipulation, betrayal, descriptions of depression, assault (the usual), passionate sex, the l bomb

📜⇝ aw man, this is very BITTERsweet. Idk how I feel about this. Ask me in a week and I'll either love or hate it. I didn't go into part one expecting to flesh out their relationship, so please forgive me if this long awaited finale doesn't reach your expectations. I am happy to finally say it's finished though!!

You didn’t remind Beomgyu of anyone. Maybe before you started having sex, that’s why he was so sure. He felt like he was experiencing deja vu from how similar you were to those groupies. Just awkward, quirky, and harmless. You’re only here to do your job and just happened to become friends with this celebrity. The romantic feelings that developed, oh those are to be expected. Of course you fell in love! But if another handsome, famous fella came around and was willing… that love is suddenly conditional.

But then you were letting Beomgyu bite your lip and rip your clothes off, you were shoving your tongue down his throat and letting him fuck you in every conceivable position. While still remaining kind and loyal to Soobin.

You were even open about the things Beomgyu did to you. You didn’t care how it made you look or if it would scare the others off. You didn’t present it as this passionate sexy moment, but the clumsy and somewhat comical situation it was. You were comfortable with them. Letting them see the real you even if it wasn’t exactly attractive. Maybe Beomgyu was wrong about you.

Then he’d catch these glimpses. Moments where he really saw Hyesoo in you. Everyone would be laughing and then suddenly you’d bring up a recent accomplishment of Soobin’s. It seemed weird to shift mid-conversation to boost him up. But when Beomgyu looked around, no one else saw anything wrong with it. He was hyper analyzing you and he was trying to stop. It was hard not to think about Hyesoo period, but with a new woman cozied up in their dorm it was even harder.

When you’d hit Soobin’s arm while laughing, buy only him snacks and drinks, laugh at his jokes harder than anyone else, fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. No matter how much he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t stop thinking you were buttering him up. Locking him in.

Here he was, staying up until 5 am dwelling on every thought that enters his brain. He lays stagnant in your bed, staring at the ceiling but really at nothing at all. His head flops to the side and he catches a glimpse of your peaceful expression. His eyes track down to your arms curled around his bicep. He looks back up at the ceiling with a lengthy sigh. 

He needs to leave.

It started with him staying a little longer to eat up the food in your fridge. You staying to chat with some of the guys. Him staying to help clean up the vase that fell and shattered during your ministrations. You staying to clean yourself off and mentioning that maybe he should bring by a few spare items of clothing in case he wants to shower at your place. Now both of you have clothes at the other’s house and he’s spending the night.

He could dwell on everything he should or shouldn’t be doing right now or he could stop fighting how the warmth of your presence is lulling him to sleep.

-🖊️⇝

Beomgyu wakes up in the absence of your warmth. If his memory serves him correctly, you’re off to practice by now. He can’t help feeling pathetic as everyone rushes off to their duties while he lounges around. He only has one month left of his suspension before he’s back on the grind. He wants to just enjoy it, but the loneliness of it all after years of constantly being surrounded by hoards of people was undeniably crushing. The people he does see are usually rushing around before leaving him in an empty house.

He slumps out of your room and is hit with the scent of freshly made toast. He spots you in the kitchen, rushing around with a piece of toast dangling from your teeth. Upon seeing Beomgyu your eyes widen, brows raising as you prompt him.

“D’you like butter on your toast? Actually, don’t say anything, I’m doing it.” Your speech is muffled until you take a bite and set the piece down. When Beomgyu finally reaches the kitchen he sees you sloppily slathering butter onto two extra pieces of toast. You place them on a small plate before pushing it toward him. You quickly steal another bite of your toast before scowling at him. “You better not leave a mess for me to clean up.”

Once you finish chewing you’re still maintaining eye contact with Beomgyu. He stares intently, and you wonder if he’s still groggy from just waking up. Then his eyes break away to the state of your hair. He gives another second of thought before sweeping the unruly strands into place.

“You’re going outside, where people will see you.” He tsks.

“Said people should mind their business.” You punctuate by tearing off a chunk of your toast, maintaining eye contact pointedly. You throw the matching jacket to your sweatpants over your shoulder. “Lock my door before you leave!”

As the door shuts, the sound echoing through the now empty apartment, Beomgyu feels hyper aware of how much empty space surrounds him where he stands. The loneliness looms over him, a reminder no matter where he goes. He may joke around, but Beomgyu tries not to whine about his problems. It feels especially inappropriate since you were in this same situation, bound to this apartment with a suddenly empty schedule. But for you, you weren’t sure if you were getting fired or worse, getting stuck in the dungeon for years with no end in sight. 

He thinks about that the entire time he stays within your walls. Where you stood, sat, and lied in limbo. From the couch, he glances over at the spot he found you lying in the day after you wrecked your house. A dark, malicious feeling crawls up his spine and he squirms. Staying in your house was already confusing for him, but with this feeling of what… guilt? He had nothing to feel guilty over. He was protecting his members.

Either way, it was overwhelming. He leaves your home, locking it on the way out. His dorm had his things. He can play video games all day until his eyes dry out. It was undeniably unfulfilling, despite it being what he craved since his trainee years. It felt as empty as his home.

He intentionally has his headphones only over one ear so he can hear when the door clicks open. It’s too quiet to be more than one member. Whatever, he’ll take what he can get. He leaves the game lobby, throwing his headphones off and rushing out of his room. When his eyes are met with blonde hair he stops in his tracks. Soobin silently regards him, not sparing him an ounce of emotion as he makes his way to the fridge. He grabs a soda, pops it open, and throws it back. Beomgyu waits patiently, he needs the interaction and Soobin has to give up this silent treatment at some point.

Soobin empties the can and tosses it, a silent conflict bleeding through his indifference to Beomgyu’s presence. Both men stand in silence, Beomgyu surveying each twitch in Soobin’s expression.

Soobin grits his teeth, hoping if he squeezes hard enough this aggravating feeling flaring up will pass. “You know what really pisses me off?” He snaps once he fails.

The relief he expected doesn’t come. There’s a pang of anxiety creeping up his spine in its place. “That I’m mean to your friend-”

“That I have a feeling this is all about that situation you refuse to talk about.” Soobin immediately shoots down his quip, sparing none of his valuable time for Beomgyu’s antics. Soobin finds that new trials and tribulations rear their ugly head just when he thought he’d gotten used to them. Recently Beomgyu has been one huge trial. He hasn’t been a good leader when dealing with this but Beomgyu is also his friend and roommate. Is he not allowed to just be upset by the actions of someone so close to him? Physically and emotionally?

When he looks over at Beomgyu it’s clear from the look on his face that he’s still not going to engage. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Letting out a lengthy sigh, he decides it’s time to abandon his personal grievances for now.

“You slept over at her house?”

Finally, it felt like someone was clamping their hands around his throat. “What, are you jealous or something?” He melts back into his usual self.

“I’m your leader.” Why does he even remind him anymore? It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the title means nothing to him.

“Yeah, you love reminding me of that fact when it’s convenient but it doesn’t apply here.” Getting his fill of interaction, he leaves the kitchen in favor of the living room. “It’s none of your business.”

“It became my business when you got in trouble. You’re on suspension, Beomgyu.” Yet again reminding him of something he clearly doesn’t care about. At least, he thinks he doesn’t until Beomgyu stops. His back is turned toward Soobin but he can still tell that it got to him.

Beomgyu no longer feels isolated but he does feel trapped again. Like the exits are too far away for him to escape and he’s forced to face this. “I don’t blame you for not speaking to the therapist they provide us with the risk of your confessions being reported, but if you tell me what’s going on we can figure this out. I’m also your friend, Beomgyu. You can talk to me.” He says softly, jumping at the chance of an opening.

This is the same guy he would laugh with until it physically hurt but he still couldn’t stop. The one who’d sneak him extra food as trainees. He’s a lovable dork who has proved on so very many occasions that he cares about each and every one of his members. Beomgyu can see it, he can feel it whipping around in the air. Soobin is right and he’s being stubborn again. It’s like the walls are closing in and pushing him closer to Soobin’s hurt but hopeful eyes. Beomgyu shuts his own.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Before Beomgyu can see the full transition of his expression he whips around, making his way to his room.

“Really? You’re still gonna pretend nothing is wrong?!” Soobin’s increase in volume is ignored as Beomgyu slams the door behind him.

-🖊️⇝

Tomorrow is Beomgyu’s last day in suspension. Yeonjun proposed they throw a party, just another excuse for Yeonjun to party. He invites anyone whose schedule is free which turns out to be a surprising amount of people. Friendly Yeonjun knows pretty much everyone in this generation and some from previous ones. This once empty building waiting to be bought was filled wall to wall with idols, models, and actors. 

Everyone notable in Beomgyu’s life saw the suspension as a no-touch subject that dampened the mood, except for you of course, the delightful person you are. Here? People are coming up to him with a tone that can only be described as vengeful.

“HYBE seems like such tight asses. You guys should ditch that place and come sign with KQ.” Hongjoong delivers a solid pat to Beomgyu’s back as he guides him to the stacked liquor table. “Let’s forget about all of that tonight.” Hongjoong messily pours two shots, either from having too many already or from sheer excitement to let loose. He hands Beomgyu one before raising his into the air. “To freedom!”

It’s almost surreal. The music feels like it swells as reality starts to dawn on him. His containment is soon to be over and he is completely surrounded by people. Things were finally gonna start looking up again.

“To freedom!” 

They both knock back their shots and submerge themselves back into the crowd of people with refreshed energy. His first instinct was to find you for some celebratory cum dumping, maybe fuck you into the wall of one of these fancy port-o-potties.

“Hey.” 

The voice leads Beomgyu’s eyes to a pair of sultry eyes and plump lips curved into a flirty smile. She was a perfect ten with a rack sitting pretty, the round, soft spheres of her cleavage taunting his already horny brain. Jisun was always a nice piece of eye candy. “Catch up to me,” She gestures to the shot in her hand, “and then let’s play.”

-🖊️⇝

Beomgyu is strange. He clearly still holds some resentment toward you, or at least skepticism, but he’s still around a lot. And you are too, which feels like poking the tiger. If he suddenly decides he still hates you he can rat you out with proof this time. You did blackmail the man. But this is just easier. Being strict and clear about your relationship was exhausting. Sometimes you don’t want to journey right back home after getting your back blown out.

All it would take was one joke from Beomgyu about you being clingy and you would’ve snapped back to the strict rules. Then he spent the night over your house and you felt a little at ease.

That meant you could finally have a sleepover at their dorm, staying up all night with Soobin watching scary movies and then being too scared to sleep. It also didn’t hurt having something warm to snuggle up to. The strangest part? Beomgyu seemed to be easing up. He stopped giving you that look as much, as if he’s trying to catch you scheming.

The party was much needed, and judging by the vibe of literally everyone else around you, all the partygoers would agree. There’s this overwhelming sense of relief and it’s intoxicating. Nobody can be as relieved as Beomgyu, wherever he is. You keep an eye out for him, in case he wants to monkey around in some pocket of the building. 

“Hey!!” Soobin grabs your shoulder to stop you as he maneuvers around you. “There you are!”

“And here you are! I can’t believe you’re here and not at home watching anime!” You lean a little closer for him to hear over the music.

“I know! I decided I could try and blow off some steam since I pretty much have the day off tomorrow.”

“Pretty much?” You ask, curious if a monthly diet and exercise report was a company-wide event.

“We’re having a meeting before Beomgyu is reinstated. They said it’d be a small one but I’m still blowing off steam in advance.”

“Yikes. Let’s get some drinks in your system.” You guide him to the alcohol like a nurse escorting a frail patient.

All four of you were downing shots like your life depended on it on opposite sides of the bar. Beomgyu was caught up far before you and Soobin drank your stress away, so away he went. Jisun was whisked to whatever private area they stumbled across first. The spacious storage closet behind the first door he opened seemed like stumbling across the gates of heaven. With a swift turn, he flashes Jisun a smirk and pulls her in. 

“Have you seen Beomgyu yet?” You probe, trying to look casual and not let your genuine inquiry slip through. You’re realizing the longer you’ve gone without seeing him today that you may crave more than just a quickie. A flash of his signature smirk passes through your mind and your stomach fills with a joyous warmth. You find yourself smiling. You quickly drop the smile, peering at Soobin as he stares at the ceiling.

“Not yet. I decided not to look for him and just let him relax. This party is for him after all.” He speaks quietly and you can tell there’s a lot more going unsaid. “For all we know he might not be here.” You laugh, having to force it as this feeling you can’t– or won’t– describe dawns on you. Soobin sighs, not able to shake the conflict in his head.

“I don’t know what’s going on with this man. I don’t know how to get him to talk about it-” He stops, raising his hands as if the gesture will help him conjure his thoughts. He shuts his mouth, dropping his hands in favor of grabbing a shot and downing it. “Has he said anything to you? About anything bothering him?”

“To me? Yeah, that’s not really how our relationship works.” You shake your head, tossing your own shot back to try and dull the emotions begging to be unpacked. Is something bothering him? When is something not bothering him? Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen goofy Beomgyu with your own eyes. You’ve just heard about his harmless mischief through the grapevine. “Loveable brat” is how you overheard Chaewon describe him. You didn’t really get either descriptor at first. More like “punchable asshole”. Without the constant screaming and threatening to ruin the other’s career, you suppose you’re getting close to seeing that side of him. The night before he slept over you shared a kiss that was simple. So simple it was loaded. There was no lust behind it, just a tender gesture with no follow up. Just you waking up holding him. And him holding you. 

“Did something happen?” You ask before chewing on your nail.

“Around when we first debuted. I haven’t thought about it in years because he refuses to talk about it. I really don’t think this is just about him wanting to protect us.” Soobin shoves his shot glass away, seemingly giving up on that method since it doesn’t appear to be working.

“Boy, aren’t you glad you got stuck with these guys?” You laugh and he lets one out as well, though unintentionally. He shakes his head, straightening his face. “No, I am. I really am. I’m lucky.” He knows you’re joking, but it doesn’t settle well when he remembers how he’s been acting. Beomgyu’s supposed leader giving him the silent treatment like a child or a frustrated lover. He sighs, letting out another laugh. This time it’s dry, expressing contempt for himself.

“I’m not really in the mood for a party anymore.”

Beomgyu did not ruin your career but he did ruin the mood for both of you and he wasn’t even there. You echoed his sentiments and he convinces you to come over. It wasn’t very hard, seeing as you could both use the company. There are no other members home yet so you didn’t have to share the blanket. You had it wrapped around the both of you like a cocoon as you tortured him with a scary movie. 

“We could’ve been watching The Bad Guys and-” Soobin wails loudly right beside your ear at the world’s most poorly set up jumpscare making you jerk away from him. He clings to you but you pry him off immediately.

“Are you not ashamed? A baby could sit through this.” You deride, shoving him away again when he tries to lean into you. “You’re so mean!” He erupts after trying to grab onto you a third time.

“No, you’re just a pussy.”

Soobin stands from the couch and snatches the remote from the other side of you. He pauses the movie, ignoring your protesting. “Since when were you so comfortable with disrespecting me?” He scolds playfully, setting his hands on his hips. “Last I remember, I was still your senior.”

“Would you rather I kiss your ass like before?” You cock your head to the side with a raise of your eyebrow, speaking about your former crush for the first time to him outside of the initial awkward phase after the rooftop mishap. He finally collects himself, fighting through his shock. He sits back beside you, keeping his eyes on you as he wraps the blanket back around you.

“I like this version of you much better.” He admits quietly, eyes genuine as they gaze into yours. You breathe a small laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush now, Choi.” You reply at the same volume. The atmosphere felt a lot more volatile suddenly, it was as if you both were close to triggering something.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” His eyes leave yours, giving you a little time to breathe. “I am turned on, though.”

Your pussy clenches hard, feeling a vortex of pleasure swirl in your stomach. You suck in a breath subconsciously as your eyes become glued to how his tongue skits over his bottom lip. He must be wetting them in an attempt to maintain their softness, unlike Beomgyu who bites at them until they’re utterly ruined. Kind of like he’s doing now back at the party. He just needs some way to cope with the pulsing need overwhelming him when he needs to empty his balls. With two handfuls of Jisun’s tits, he gets a similar feeling. His teeth dig and tug at his poor bottom lip. Better it be his lip than her soft skin. He needs to remember this isn’t you he’s playing with.

Fuck, if it were you he’d sink his nails in until you yelped. Feeling his cock jump at the sound and ache at the thought of you loving the pain as much as he loves inflicting it. That delicious look in your eye exposing how much you want to absolutely ruin him in a way no one has before.

But the look you give Soobin gives Soobin pause. He raises his eyebrows before leaning back, letting his head fall back onto the couch. “You don’t still have a crush on me, do you?”

His eyes are like hot fudge drizzling over a mound of ice cream, melting every inch it touches. Still, something nags at you. You need something inside you and you need it bad… but this should be affecting you much more. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

His eyes dip lower, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Nag nag nag. It’s just dick, you tell yourself. You just need some hard sex and this feeling will go away. You grab Soobin by his shirt and pull him on top of you. He happily engulfs you with his large body, caging you in as he devours your lips. They’re still slick with his own spit. They squish and slide against yours and your body ignites. You wrap your legs around him and push his bulge into your core. He groans and you grin against his mouth. So vocal.

Beomgyu would say the same about Jisun, except it wouldn’t be praise. It’s just noise with no rhyme or reason. She’s not reacting to the curl of his fingers inside her, her moans don't correspond with the clench of her walls, there’s no sign she’s being caught off guard by anything he’s doing. Just. Noise.

Everything about her just dissolves into meaningless blobs of nothing. His fingers sloshing inside a wet cavern, his hands squeezing doughy flesh, and his lips brushing against mindless flaps that omit noise constantly. It quickly becomes mind-numbing and he can feel himself going limp. If you were here instead, you’d gasp when he pushed his fingertips into your bundle of nerves. Not meaning to dig your fingers into his shoulders but not being able to help how your body naturally reacts. You don’t want to whimper when he sucks on that sweet spot on your neck but you just can’t help it.

He can feel himself get hard again, his fingers curling and pushing into Jisun’s heat fluidly with you vivid behind his clenched lids. Where are you? He’s suddenly pulled out of the heated moment he’s sharing as the question pops into his mind. If he searched for you, could he be inside you right now instead? Jisun’s noises pull him from his thoughts. How pathetic would it be for him to scramble out of the closet, pussy juice still on his middle and ring finger as he looks for you with his eyes wide like a puppy? First he cuddles you and spends the night at your house and then you see him like that? His eyes snap open.

He grunts, pumping his fingers with more vigor. He has a warm hole for tonight. There’s always tomorrow. That frustrating feeling of the intoxicating warmth leaving his groin as you dissipate from his mind is back and he chases it again. The image of Jisun’s exaggerated expressions flicker away behind his fluttering lids before his mind projects your face twitching to keep your bliss hidden. Pleasure so strong that even the raging flames of hatred can’t burn it away. 

A penis entering a vagina was something you were taught was reserved for the pinnacle of love. When you were old enough you were promised tender touches and emotions so deep and complex they would bring you to tears. You and Beomgyu were swept up into the limelight long before you could get a chance to naturally build up such a relationship and experience such a transcendental feeling. Instead, the two of you bastardized the act with one night stands and relationships built on flimsy foundations only to come crashing down from neglect or simply not knowing who was under your sacred roof. How could you not? There’s no time, too much stress, and too much at stake. 

So you fuck and fuck until the act becomes something so unrecognizable that you come out the other end. Letting someone tear at your flesh and tamper with your spirit as they touch you the way someone you love should. Yet here you are with someone who would treat you right, someone who you longed for for so long, someone who holds you like you’re porcelain with passion still flowing through every action. You should be falling head over heels again. Your crush should be flooding back with crashing waves wrecking everything in its wake until nothing is left but your undying need for Soobin. But no. He mouths your neck as he thrusts shallowing, checking in to make sure he’s not hurting you. 

Everyone who taught you about how sex would feel were right about one thing. You were brought to tears. 

“Beomgyu.” You blubber shamefully, gritting your teeth before hiccupping. You fail to suppress it. Everything becomes a blur as tears stream down your face. The self-pity numbs you beyond repair.

Your name leaving Beomgyu’s lips doesn’t feel real. He only realizes what he’s done after Jisun’s warmth is gone. He opens his eyes and she has moved as far away from him as she possibly can in the confined space. Her angry words don’t register as she fixes herself and storms out, brushing his shoulder on her way. Once he was old enough, Beomgyu was taught a little differently. His father would wait until his mother left the room to get filthy about it, wiggling his eyebrows. His friends would boast and fantasize lewdly in the back of the classroom about it. The pinnacle of sex was supposed to be casual with beautiful women. The only hate sex guys his age fantasized about were low-stakes scenarios you only see in porn. What the two of you had? No one with any ounce of self-preservation would touch this with a ten foot pole. They’d call you “psycho”, block your number, and avoid you like the plague.

Not daydream about you while experiencing a man’s definition of the pinnacle of sex. 

-🖊️⇝

Soobin is a saint. He waited patiently for you to calm down, holding you and rubbing your back. He didn’t complain about his lack of finishing once and didn’t make you feel awkward. He just giggled at your swollen face after you finished. You sat quietly on the couch, staring at whatever movie had auto-played.

“You guys are very similar, you know?”

The urge to start crying again chokes you and you swallow it down. “Soobin, that's a horrible thing to say.” You sigh.

He laughs loudly, trying to stifle his overflowing amusement after seeing your eyes get glassy again. “That’s why you hate each other so much I think.” He says once the humor subsides.

“I hate him because he was horrible to me.” You correct, unable to suppress the annoyance flaring up at his ignorant assumption.

“He was horrible to you, right?” He looks over at you, looking back at the tv once he sees your stone-like expression. “But you still resent each other despite you guys not being at each other’s throats for about a month now.”

“Because I’m wary. He’s wary. We both are constantly remembering something horrible we did to one another.” You suck in a breath, ready to vent about all the ways he’s scarred your skin with proof, but which ones were the ones you encouraged? It didn’t feel appropriate to lie or guess no matter how much you wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to scream about Beomgyu and how much you should hate him. You whimper, resting your face in your hands. “What’s wrong with me?”

Soobin doesn’t answer, leaving you with your own thoughts. You find yourself appreciating the silence.

“Do you love him?”

Numb and hollow… yet throbbing and infected. The space between the skin of your forehead and the bone of your skull felt like it was swimming with complicated activity as your brain echoed the devastating question. Not because the answer was yes but because it had to be answered at all. You raise your head slowly from shaking hands before standing from the couch.

“I’m going to sleep.”

-🖊️⇝

Waking up that morning for both of you was somehow more loaded than waking up in each other’s arms. You couldn’t be with each other or away. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t simple anymore and the complication of it all was starting to get exhausting. You slip from beneath Soobin’s arm, careful not to wake him. Beomgyu trudges out of his bed, feet plodding heavily toward his door. Both doors close simultaneously with a dull, echoing thud, neither noticing the other as you both stand in silence. It’s only when you start to move that Beomgyu notices you. His chest rises slightly with a small gasp. There you are.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

For a second your eyes meet his and there’s a flicker of something that excites him. You straighten up. “I was with Soobin.”

“But you could’ve been with me.” Beomgyu can feel himself get worked up at just the thought of something that actually gets him going. 

“Believe it or not,” You draw nearer and Beomgyu’s eyes are locked onto your lips as they part. You lean in and the warmth of your proximity ceases his breathing “he kept me company.” 

It felt like slow motion when you pulled away and winked at Beomgyu. A gesture that should’ve been harmless and maybe even cute made Beomgyu feel like hot curdled liquid was crawling down his throat.

Once you pull back Beomgyu’s expression hardens. His eyes prick you like needles. “What?”

His tone and glare make you flinch. Your smirk flickers away. This is usually how it starts, but a part of you just wanted to cut out all the bullshit and get to the part where he makes you scream his name. But the look in his eye… something’s different. Something’s wrong. 

“I-I had a little fun with Soobin. It didn’t really go far though because I…” You choke on your words, feeling your heart throb when he tore his eyes away. He couldn’t read your mind but you couldn’t stop yourself from believing he somehow sniffed out the pitiful truth. 

Beomgyu laughs dryly and each moment without proper words made you feel like screaming. Beomgyu flexes his hands, avoiding your eyes while he cracks his knuckles. He balls them into tight fists before staring at you with a level of fury that makes your blood run cold. “I fucking knew it.”

The words struggle to leave his lips as if they had to pass through a filter of his growing disdain for you. Quiet, yet still piercing enough to get you stammering. “Y-you can’t be serious. You’re not seriously talking about what I think you are right now are you?!”

And just like that the two of you are back to square one. Everything that happened in the last two months, hell, the last 48 hours feel like they mean nothing. Why would they? It’s Beomgyu’s fault for letting things get the way they are. Beomgyu feels this nauseating sensation curdle in his stomach and it’s strong. So strong it forces a lie out of him. 

“I’m just trying to protect my members. God– is that a crime or something? Why am I the bad guy? You’re not gonna get away with using us like toys. Maybe you’ll have better luck whoring around Enhypen.” He spits out the words, hating the way they taste. This is your guys’ dynamic, right? Now you’ll start throwing things and screaming at him. 

But nothing comes and Beomgyu realizes he hasn’t been looking at you. At what point he looked away again, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t get himself to make eye contact again. The lack of response clouds his lungs, a stabbing pain screaming in his temples.

After the silence suffocates him to near death he finally manages to look at you. He has to muster all his strength, but he does. And you’re crying. His body feels hollow. No arousal or sadistic pleasure is derived from this. He can’t even feign it.

Still, the silence won’t let up and as if to punish him, his body won’t let him look away. As if two hands are holding his head in place and as a sinister voice hisses in his ears.

LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE.

How much time passes, he’s not sure. Enough time for him to realize how much chaos and stress he’s caused to his leader, his members, his company, and to an innocent person with an innocent crush.

More tears well and skit from your cheekbones straight to the carpet beneath both your feet. Darkening the fabric. The words you’ve been choking on finally release, though they sound frail and strangled. “Beomgyu. I don’t know how else to get through to you. I care about Soobin. Fuck…” You don’t attempt to wipe the tears away or cease them in any way. Your head falls as if your neck can no longer support it. “I was starting to care about you.” 

Hostile would be putting it lightly. The activity in your brain and heart is like a dozen hornet’s nests being shaken and preparing to erupt, one for each emotion reaching its peak. You grit your teeth so hard you think they’ll crumble under the pressure.

“You wanna know something? The only person hurting someone by turning on them is you.” You hate the implications this leaves but your thoughts and emotions are on overdrive and you need to leave before it gets any uglier. “I’ll respect your wishes. Friends aren’t worth dealing with this, I’d rather be alone. Just promise me you won’t involve my career in your bullshit this time.”

As you storm away, barely able to look that man in the eye you realize this. This is what you were wary of the entire time. It wasn’t him ruining your career or biting you until he draws blood or turning your friends against you. It was this feeling you were experiencing. Pain so deep you’d almost call it heartbreak. However, it wasn’t earned from time spent with someone who cherished you and made you feel like you were worth something. All this heartache…

You let him do unspeakable things to you. You let him hurt you in ways you would’ve never let anyone else. You welcomed it.

In an alternate reality, you’d be kicked out of your company, stuck with a damning reputation, and banned from the only true friends you had. The man who would’ve caused all that turmoil in your life, with the intent to cause that harm, is the same one who your heart is aching for. 

-🖊️⇝

The curtains across the room have become blurry blobs of color after being stuck staring in that direction for what felt like too long. You had to start, if you’re late sending this video in then there will be another crack. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and jump start your brain once again from its brief hiatus.

The inhale you suck in shudders beyond your control. The more time that passes with that song out in the open for anyone to hear, the less you can hide your anxiety. You hold your breath until it hurts before blowing out a rushed gust of wind. You’re stagnant again, and before your brain can shut down for one more sweet break you force a smile and hit record.

“Hello precious moonbeams!~ I hope you’re all doing well. Thank you for all the support on Strawberry Jam. I was so worried!” You pout. “It’s a bit of a weird song, right? It’s very different from Laude so I was scared you guys wouldn’t like it. But… wow. The support is…” Sincerity bleeds through as you reflect on traversing your favorite store and then hearing your voice through the speakers.

“Pierce me, Bruise me, keep going until you see strawberry jam”

Your blood runs cold, and your eyes snap up as if you’re being caught saying something you didn’t mean to be publicized. A couple of passersby whisper or stare or gasp. You run out of the store.

Before you can get too sincere you force the smile back in place. “It’s overwhelming. Seriously.” Your eyes get glassy and you chew on your lip. “Thank you.”

All the cracks that have reared their ugly head so far have been mostly forgotten because of the overnight success of your first comeback. Your debut was deemed a flop in comparison to your colleagues, so this was absolutely necessary. It was mandatory. You finally feel like you’re making progress digging out of this deep hole. 

There are signs your company still doesn’t fully trust you.

The first big sign was the debut delays. You were sure they were going to cancel it and that they saw you as a risk. The cracks were treacherous. Then you debuted and the reception was lukewarm. You sat in limbo for days, reading negative comments until your head span. A piece chips off revealing an inky black abyss. 

Then you heard your comeback song. Instead of classy and subdued like your debut, this song was hard to swallow. It was asymmetrical and loud. It was raunchy.

“What do you think?”

You sat in silence, jaw dropped open, a truck sized lump in your throat. You could hear the sound of cracking. But why? This song was a clear hit. You could hear another idol performing it well. 

But it’s yours.

“Ready to record?”

You nod, hoping that will become true with time.

The track plays and your fears ease a bit. You bob your head to the beat. Everything goes fine until the same lyrics that struggle to come out of your mouth approach. You power through. You need this.

“I should hate it but I don’t”

This will be a hit, you can get through this. 

You continue powering through but the dread builds and builds. You hate this line, you hate it so much. Your breath gets caught in your throat right before it’s time and you know you’re about to choke.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I…” You sigh and drop your head. You already knew it was coming when they ask you to do it again.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I-I know that you like that…”

CRACK

The producer slides his headphones off with a chuckle. “I know. It’s weird, right?” He winces as if he’s mirroring your assumed feelings on the matter. He’s half right. It’s obscene and you hate it. You hate it so much.

“I’m sorry, let’s go again.”

The track replaying is like a death march. Your throat bobs, doing little to refresh your throat that feels like it’s filled with cactus needles and glass.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I know that you like that-”

The line processes in your mind and you connect it to the past despite avoiding doing so as if your life depends on it. You reflect on all the times he’s brought you to tears. How hot they felt rushing from your eyes after you frustratingly kissed him for the first time. How helpless and pathetic you felt crying as he restrained your wrists, only to spray you in his seed mockingly. And most frustratingly of all, you crying while revealing that you actually cared about him after he did exactly what you knew he would.

CRACK

The calls of your name are muffled as flashes of his face refuse to leave. You grit your teeth, feeling a frightening level of rage familiarly build up inside you. “I hate him.”

You rush out of the recording booth, mortified as tears stream down your face. He’s done it again. He isn’t even here and he’s done it again. If he could see you right now he’d probably smile. It would probably brighten his day. And you welcomed that monster into your bed.

You’re all the way back home once you realize what you’ve done. The producer is probably calling your manager who is calling the CEO about how much of a pain in the ass you are. You need to get yourself together quickly and get back there. You run to your bathroom and look in the mirror. You plant your shaky hands on the sink

“I’m…”

Your voice wavers. Your resolve dissipates as you stare at the cracks that have transferred to your very visage. A shard dangles where your eye resides before falling away. Again, the black nothingness is left behind and you’ve already forgotten what your face normally looks like.

Your phone starts to buzz and you slowly fade back to reality.

-🖊️⇝

“I have no clue who that is. Why can’t we collab with a Korean artist?” Beomgyu mutters. Soobin grits his teeth and elbows him. He rolls his eyes despite the instant regret. It takes only a minute of fading into the background as the other guys engage in productive conversation for the guilt to fully bloom. On one couch there were four employees and one temperamental child.

No matter where he goes he feels this way. The guys don’t bring girls to the dorm anymore. If they go out to see one, they nervously lie about it and rush out of the door. 

Anytime they bring up a memory tainted with you, Beomgyu is greeted with shocked silence and finds four panicked eyes on him like they’re afraid they’ve poked a tiger.

All those posters, cardboard cutouts, and billboards that are fucking everywhere are like land mines. To anyone else it would be comical to watch four grown, big ass men tiptoeing around a mall like one wrong step will blow their leg clean off.

And the song.

Beomgyu… he is really trying to get better. If he didn’t attempt to, Soobin would probably choke him out. He’s been very patient, but anyone in his shoes would be exasperated. When they’re in public or in a meeting and Beomgyu is being a menace is one thing, Soobin lets him know then and there that he’s serious.

However, when they’re alone, it’s strangely peaceful. He asks Beomgyu about his day and his mental and emotional state. He hasn’t brought you up for a while now. Tomorrow will make 6 months.

Tomorrow comes, Beomgyu’s indifference is slipping. While everyone else walked on eggshells, Beomgyu coasted through the situation like nothing happened. But somehow, the fact that the boys are becoming more accustomed to not bringing you up is bothering him. He only sees you through screens or your likeness plastered on paper or cardboard. 

The last time you physically entered his vision was during your goodbye stage of your debut promotions. It was a brief glimpse but it was enough to show you weren’t doing well. It was an image burned into his memory. None of the photo shoots could replace it. Even longer before that was the last time the two of you made physical contact. The feeling of holding you in your bed is long gone. Everything about you feels like a ghost now.

“Here he is!” Beomgyu looks up from his phone he wasn’t really looking at anyway to see Soobin walking over with some girl. Beomgyu slides down his mask to present the girl with a tight smile and bow.

“This is Jiwon from Cherry Bullet.” 

“Hello.” Jiwon bows with a bright smile and somehow the common gesture illustrates just how efficient of a person she is. He has no clue what a cherry bullet is but something tells him she’s a stellar idol. But why was she talking to him? Beomgyu looks up at Soobin’s phony wide smile before getting distracted by the rest of his members frantically trying to stop what’s happening. Yeonjun tugs Soobin to the side, jaw jutting forward as he grits something out Beomgyu can’t quite decipher.

“I’ve heard people refer to you as a video game protagonist.” Beomgyu’s attention is ripped away from his members as Jiwon speaks again with a little more hesitance this time. What, does she think he’s a ticking time bomb too?

“What?”

“Your visuals.” She clarifies, seeming a little more relaxed now. “Now that I see you in real life I can say I see it too. I didn’t know before but I think that’s my style.” She looks down, still appearing resolute despite the shy action. 

“I don’t usually do things like this, I value my job and image, but I was just so curious about you. I felt a bit weird asking Soobin to introduce me to you but…” As if she realizes she’s been having a one-sided conversation, she stops herself and looks at Beomgyu expectantly.

Every so often, Beomgyu catches wind of a rumor going around about himself. Whether it’s someone he’s cool with reporting back to him or rookies being way too loud and excitable. He supposes every idol experiences this, and most likely they’re as indifferent as he is. He’s a former thug, he’s gay, he’s fucking an executive, and the biggest one:

He’s a womanizer. 

That one sometimes goes hand in hand with the thug one, but it’s mostly referring to his current idol lifestyle. He doesn’t know how it happened. He hasn’t been in a relationship since Hyesoo. He couldn’t be one if he tried. He lets his emotions get in the way. A part of him wishes it were true. Maybe he would stop craving nails raking into the flesh of his back or bite marks on his bottom lip and shoulders. Maybe he would stop waking up with soiled sheets because he has dreams about being ridden long after he’s already cum. 

Of course now he’s thinking of you, despite chatting it up with Jiwoo– or no, Ji…

You’re probably getting relief every other day with how famous you are now. If you even have the time. In that case, you’re probably locking you and some guy in dressing rooms, closets, anywhere you can get privacy for a quickie. 

But no… you’re not like that. You only let Beomgyu see the deepest, darkest parts of you because you were pushed to do so. Beomgyu’s face goes slack, staring deep into space. You hated him so much that you didn’t care about bearing the ugliest side of you to him. Gnashing your teeth with your shirt a tangled mess over your torso after you gave up on taking it off. Saying the most venomous things Beomgyu’s ever heard while milking him for all he’s got. Even after things cooled a bit, you would let him touch and taste you before you even showered. Opening the door to let him in with stains all over your shirt and leftover makeup from the day before.

“I thought about jumping off the roof at practice while I was on my break.” You had said to him after couch sex. You guys were watching Community and eating ice cream. You were just joking about one of the characters being dumb. Beomgyu had looked at you, completely bewildered.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? What you’ve been waiting for?” He asks incredulously.

You sigh dramatically.

“Yeah, but I’m so fucking hungry. My body aches and my hands shake so much I can barely hold a pen to write my own name. I made a mistake and my instructor cussed at me and called me useless.” You laughed sharply before letting your head droop over to face him. “D’you know they delayed my fucking debut again? Before I thought about offing myself I imagined slitting my manager’s throat and bludgeoning the dance instructor to death and stripping down so I could smear both their blood all over me until it covered every inch of my skin. It was so brief but so so vivid.” You rushed out the words in a crazed fashion and you looked at him with wide eyes. You smile. “Then I imagined you coming in, we had sex and then I strangled you until your eyes bulged out–” You catch your breath and look back at the tv. You looked down at your hand and groaned. Your ice cream had melted over your trembling hand.

“Fuck it–” You rush over to the trash can and chuck it before aggressively wiping off your hand with a tattered kitchen towel. You stomp over to the fridge and take out one of the multiple spoiled bags of salad mix and dump it in the trash to cover up the tossed ice cream. You throw a glance at him.

“Make sure you eat that all or cover your tracks if you throw it away.” You mutter, finding your voice wavering suddenly. You sniffle, slamming down on the couch. You refuse to look over at him as tears break free from your eyes. You feel him move closer to you on the couch and you grit your teeth. His hand curls around the column of your throat but he doesn’t apply pressure.

“I imagined killing my manager once too.”

You peer over at him, he’s looking down, his thick lashes on display. “Except I stabbed him over and over and over until he was an unrecognizable mound of mush. You’re right, it flashed by so fast. I was so sickened by it I pretended it never crossed my mind. Yet here we are…” He finally looks up with a smirk. He finally applies the pressure and you inhale a shuddering breath.

He moves his lips next to your ear, his breath fanning on it making you shiver. “Does it hurt?”

Immediately understanding what he meant you nod feverishly. 

“I’ll distract you.” He answers quickly before swinging his leg over and resting his knee on your thigh. He sits all his weight on your thigh and he squeezes your throat. He repeats it again breathily as he stares down at you wistfully. Your strangled whimpers get him straining against his jeans. 

“I-I…” You find yourself speaking against your will. No… this isn’t how this went. He squeezes again and you moan. You want to clench your thighs but his knee is pinning your leg down. You can’t think, it’s perfect. Still, you find your mouth moving. No! There were no more words exchanged after this. You fucked again and he slept over.

“I-I’m so lonely,” Your voice quivers before you begin sobbing uncontrollably. When you open your eyes and blink away your tears you see a twisted wide grin on his face. His eyes are wild. You tremble in fear, unable to speak anymore. No no no no no no no…

“I fucking knew it.”

You gasp for air, it feels like he’s crushing your windpipe.

“Just a sad, lonely, nobody coming to mooch off of us. Pitiful. You want friends? Huh?” You feel blood rushing up to your face. “Too bad. You don’t deserve love. No one fucking likes you and no one ever will. I’ll do you a favor.”

Almost as if he’s beating you to what you briefly daydreamt about, he applies his other hand and you want to scream. Your ears start ringing and you feel something warm trickle from your ears and all of a sudden there’s a bright light and a piercing noise–

You jolt up from your bed, continuing to sob like you did in your nightmare. You stumble out, nearly tripping as you reach to turn the light on. After doing so you slide down against the wall. Sobbing until your chest hurt and you had no air left in your lungs.

-🖊️⇝

There’s no doubt this song has gotten you some perverse comments and unwanted attention, but it must also get you positive attention too. He’s never seen you hang out with anyone else besides the guys but surely you have an entourage by now. Guys lining up to treat you right. Ones you wouldn’t feel are deplorable enough to casually bring up your murder fantasies to.

“Gyu?”

Jiwon has that confused tone in her voice. God, he tuned her out by accident again. 

“Are you okay? It seems like you’ve been zoning out a lot.” She sounds cautious again. Beomgyu can tell that she’s trying to avoid what might set him off. Did Soobin tell her about you? How he’s just a screaming match waiting to happen?

“To be fair, I’ve had a lot to think about recently.” Beomgyu gives her a look, he knows she’s aware of what he’s referring to. Her awareness is becoming increasingly obvious.

She sits down beside him in the other folding chair backstage. Not dissimilar to when they first met. Even more similar, he notices his members frantically whispering to each other while looking at him.

“Are you still feeling bothered by that?” Jiwon places a hand on his but it doesn’t pull his attention away. Suddenly Kai is casting a fearful look to his right. Beomgyu, already feeling something stirring in his stomach follows his eyeline. 

A pair of black docs accented with black opaque hosiery that almost stop where your red skirt starts. The skirt looks tattered, purposefully so. It’s asymmetrical and overlapped by a black, intricately designed corset top. Your hands that are running through your hair are donned in a red, loosely fitted pair of sheer gloves. Once your arms stop shielding your face and you lift your head, Beomgyu sees your mascara running. His stomach drops.

The stylist scolds you and quickly tries to fix the mess. You don’t react at all, face stone cold. Maybe you just had a bad day, Beomgyu thinks.

It’s cliche, but it never stops shocking you how blinding the stage lights are. They glint sharply, feeling like they’ve sliced your eyes. You shut them, only to quickly open them once you remember people can see you. You force a smile on your face, not caring if it looks like you have a gun to your head. This is all you have left.

The bright light nearly pricks tears back to your eyes but you hold them back just like you hold back the thoughts of the texts your parents sent you this morning. You don’t want to perform today, the last thing you want to do is sing this song that is now ruining relationships. However, now this is truly all you have left. So you flip the switch as soon as the music starts and don’t turn it off until it’s safe to cry again.

You almost melt away on your couch when a knock startles you. You race to the door, thinking it may be your manager. A part of you still expects her to scold you about something she found out. It’s been months but you still fear Beomgyu saying something. A shaking hand pulls open the door.

Myungsoo smirks lazily. Kim Myungsoo. You have to pinch yourself still, despite it being a month now since he first spoke to you. You’re used to people speaking to you first by now. You’d rather they stick around, hang out with you, but that never happens. When he came up and asked you about your song, you were positive you’d probably never see him again. A man you used to have posters of slipping right through your fingers. But then he suddenly stayed put.

“What’re you up to?” He asks before widening his smile. Your heart flutters.

“I was going to take a nap.” You say quietly, very much distracted. Him brushing some of your hair behind your ear doesn’t help.

He waits a beat as he presses his lips into a thin line. “Need help?”

Your heart drums against your rib cage, it almost hurts how much you need it. He’s been teasing you during this exciting yet excruciating month. Hinting that he wants to fuck you but never doing it. You nearly came when he put his hand on your thigh last week.

Now his hand is there again, and it takes every ounce of strength you have to not lift your hips and coax him to where it hurts. He insisted on leaving the television off so you can’t even pretend not to have your full attention on him. 

“C’mere.” He whispers, his voice so warm it melts you. You scoot over and lean your head on his shoulder. You guys stay like that and you’re content– you really are… but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult not to shove his hand down your pants. You don’t know how long it’s been but your body is screaming at you. He should’ve been inside you already, you guys should have been done with your first round actually. Your impatience gets the best of you and you look up at him. He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Take a nap. Isn’t that what you said you were doing?”

You laugh dryly, too annoyed to take it back or be mortified at your outward display of your sexual frustration. 

“Is something wrong?” He pouts his lips mockingly. You sit up from him but he pulls you back. 

You let out a strained sigh. “I think I need to be alone to take a nap actually.”

“What, now you’re kicking me out? Did I do something wrong?” His cutesy act is nauseating right now. It pushes you to reveal how you actually feel.

“Aren’t you building us up to be just fuck buddies? Why are you beating around the bush?” You’re desperate, but it’s more than just being horny. At the moment you have no outlet for the overwhelming amounts of anxiety and growing depression. Despite what you had with Beomgyu being… what it was, you remember a wave of serenity after it was all said and done. You bickered as you got your clothes back on but then he left and your body was noticeably less tense. 

“I never said anything about that. You know, you claim you had nothing to do with the song but I’m a little skeptical…” He traces shapes over your bare shoulder and you shrug it off with a scoff before sitting up. The annoyance was building towards being affronted, but you could feel something tingling like a spark crackling inside your stomach. It was back, a feeling you haven’t felt in quite a while. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean,” Myungsoo shifts toward you, “you’ve been practically begging to be fucked the minute we met. You’re not as subtle as you think.” His faux sympathy melts away once he sees fire glinting in your eyes. He can’t help but smile.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” You spit before mounting his lap and devouring his lips. This is it, there’s no mistaking it. But something’s missing… 

Myungsoo sits there, barely moving his lips against yours. Your hands roam his entire body while his are still by his sides. You pull away, afraid that you were mistaken, but he’s smiling up at you. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before coaxing you to finish.

“You want it, don’t you?”

And so you strip your shirt off, the fabric pulled away to reveal your eyes blown wide with lust. You capture his lips again and it tastes so sweet. You nearly tremble after finally breaking through that barrier that never seems to leave. You feel powerful for the first time in months as you slide your hands under his shirt. You puff out a frustrated gust of air before sliding off his lap and kneeling before him. You look up at him as you unzip his jeans. He smirks the entire time, lifting his hips to let you slide his jeans and underwear down. He exaggerates the movement of stretching his arms back and resting his hands behind his head. You falter, suddenly self conscious. 

“What’s your deal?”

He answers quickly, somehow knowing exactly what you were referring to. “I dunno… maybe I’m just not feeling it yet.” He sighs, reaching for his flaccid member and stroking it disappointedly. “Look at it, so pitiful.”

You swat his hand away, feeling challenged by his words. You start with his balls, licking in between them before circling your tongue around each one. You glance up at him and his cock twitches. His smirk flickers away briefly to revel pleasure while looking at the determination in your eyes.

You’re just so happy to finally taste someone. The way a cock feels in your hands and on your tongue, so silky and soft. So sinfully beautiful when covered in thick globs of saliva. There is truly nothing like it. But again, there was something missing.

Anywhere you and Myungsoo were together turned into a new spot for you to fuck. You’d give him the eyes which he’d ignore. Then you’d touch him. Kiss him. Whisper in his ear. None of it worked until you were pulling him somewhere secluded. Even when you were at his place or him at yours. It was like pulling teeth. But whatever, foreplay for you and Beomgyu was degrading and threatening each other. This was nothing.

It didn’t stop at foreplay, though. Throughout the entire act he’d be so smug, never reacting to anything. Only small glimpses of pleasure could be caught, but if you blinked you could miss it. You find yourself fighting for his passion. However, it remained one-sided.

-🖊️⇝

Jiwon’s ministrations were soft, almost like they weren’t there. She had a pretty pair of lips but they were like feathers against his.

“Noona…” He whispered, brushing his nose against hers.

“Hm?” She barely pecks his lips. Beomgyu inhales deeply before grabbing the back of Jiwon’s head and deepening the kiss. She makes a muffled noise of surprise but her eyes slowly flutter shut. She melts into the kiss for a few lovely seconds before forcing herself to pull away. She clears her throat before grabbing both of Beomgyu’s hands.

“Let’s take it slow, okay?” Jiwon gives him a pleading look and he only groans inwardly. It’s been a minute, and Jiwon is not a woman you come across too often. And they actually have a relationship he can brag about, someone he could see himself marrying. She’s pristine.

“Why, you didn’t like it?” He smirks and she scoffs.

“I did, but I just think it’s better for us if we don’t rush things.”

Beomgyu tries really hard to hide the cynicism threatening to rear its ugly head. Jiwon was finally not walking on eggshells around him. He thinks long and hard about what he’s going to say and panics when he thinks he’s said the wrong thing.

“Fine. But a deeper kiss won’t kill us.” Beomgyu brushes away his train of thought before smiling. 

It wasn’t long before Beomgyu and Jiwon made it official, only telling people they trusted and not risking visiting each other anywhere but their dorms. Even that takes several days of planning. 

“How does it work? We’ve never been.” Taehyun says, leaning forward in anticipation.

Jiwon takes a moment to swallow her sip of tea and to think. 

“This will be my second survival style show. I think that they’re not dissimilar to being a trainee, honestly. The ferocity of everyone around you is still there. This new one is a little less intense, though. I guess the stakes aren’t as high.” Once she finishes talking she takes another delicate sip of her tea. Beomgyu watches intently, admiring how elegant she is. It’s so effortless for her. She continues her mature conversation with his members but Beomgyu is completely checked out. There’s a lingering sour feeling prodding at him as he watches her. It makes his smile flicker away.

“Right Beomgyu?” Soobin elbows him and Beomgyu is finally broken out of his daze.

All Beomgyu’s plugs slowly enter each outlet. “Huh?”

“You were so social during our trainee days, it was hard for people to hate you.” Soobin says, making everyone chuckle.

“Even when they saw you as competition, no dice.” Yeonjun chimes in. It was fun to reminisce until it wasn’t. He was smiling again and it seemed to immediately go away the longer he thought about it. He’s been told this. That he’s unhateable. He’s too silly, a loveable brat. But you managed.

“He could never do wrong. We make a mistake and it would start a fight. Beomgyu would do the same thing and they would just brush it off.” Kai adds, and everyone laughs again except for Beomgyu who’s stuck staring in space, his water bottle static in his hands.

“That’s so true!” Someone gushes through the laughter. 

“Funny how things change, huh?”

The room goes silent as Beomgyu takes a swig from his bottle.

Jiwon looks panicked before laughing nervously. “What do you mean? I’ve never laughed this much before meeting you, and the girls love when you come over. Not to mention having four members who love you. That’s rare, you know.”  

Soobin claps before pointing at Jiwon. “That’s exactly right!”

“What else could you need?” Jiwon rubs Beomgyu’s back, making him realize that she’s not miles away from him like it feels she is. She’s right. So everything will eventually get better.

-🖊️⇝

 “Let’s go to a karaoke bar next!” Eunchae ugly laughs in excitement, already running ahead with Kazuha chasing behind her. Yunjin loops her arm with Sakura before following the younger members, engaged in a personal conversation. On instinct, Chaewon follows close by, yelling for the younger members to slow down.

The five of them have a warm dynamic that’s so enticing. Their figures growing further, soaked in the various vibrant hues of neon signs. It was like a scene out of films you watch alone on your couch. It’s right there.

Freezing as if something dawned on her, Chaewon swiftly turns around to face you.

“You coming?” She shouts.

“Ugh, she never comes. Let’s just go.” Yunjin whines dismissively. Chaewon looks conflicted as her gaze switches between you both. You stretch your mouth into a thin line. 

“I have to get home. I’ll text you.” 

Chaewon wants to protest but when she looks back at her members, they’re much farther away than she thought. Then when she looks back at you, you’re already gone.

From the corner of the bar, you send texts back and forth. Your head slips off your fist and nearly slams into the table before you stop it. Just an hour before, you were here with a group of people. The memory feels like particles of dust floating through the air that you try to clutch in your fist.

“Are you okay? I think you’ve had enough for the night. Call a cab and go home.” The stern, motherly tone of the owner doesn’t offend you at all. You don’t get to answer before she’s off sweeping the other end of the restaurant. You let your body completely slump over, resting your upper body on the table.

A tsk barely pricks at your foggy brain. “What a mess.” Myungsoo sighs.

“Take me home oppa.” You giggle with your cheek squished against the table. He raises his brow at you and you raise your arms. He groans before picking you up from the table and holding you bridal style. You rest your head against his chest, feeling tired against his warmth. You’re just about to drift off to sleep when he’s placing you into the passenger’s seat. You whine in protest but he’s already shutting the door. The gentle car ride makes your lids heavier until they shut completely.

Myungsoo picking you up again has your eyes slowly lifting open. You watch his face as he carries you. His body heat is intoxicating. You can’t stop your eyes from flickering down at his lips. You don’t want to mount him like you usually do, you feel something deeper. Maybe there was a reason he took so long to let you have him at first. 

He lets you down to unlock his door before taking you by the hand and leading you in. You’re cuddling on his bed, still unable to take your eyes off him. He’s caught you a couple times and all he does is smile. This time his eyes linger on yours before whispering for you to come closer. You’re moving as soon as he says to, connecting your lips to his hungrily. 

He smells and tastes so good. You trace your tongue over his bottom lip before pecking his mouth. He grins, letting out a warm, chesty chuckle.

“I love when you guys get like this.”

You laugh, a little confused. You peck him again. “You guys?”

He caresses the back of your neck before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. Your breath picks up as you climb on top of him, smashing your mouths together. He pulls away and whispers breathily in your ear.

“You have that twinkle in your eye. You need me. All you think of is me.” 

You shudder, grinding down on him. You trail kisses all over his neck as he continues.

“If I were to leave, you’d be devastated.”

The thought makes you whimper, nipping at his neck. He hisses. “Stop it.” You say in a tiny voice. You feel his bulge grow more prominent.

“You’d do anything to please me, make me stay.” He moans through the sentence, bucking up into you. Your heart starts thumping, and the longer this goes on the more you realize it’s not because you’re turned on. You lift from him.

“I said stop.” Your face is hot. It’s right, he’s completely correct. You want to have your hands and lips on him at all times and your heart is constantly clenched by the fear that he doesn’t really care about you.

“What? Should I make you bleed instead?” He laughs.

Your chest constricts, your breath getting caught in your throat. Your lips tremble as you quirk your jaw trying to curb the anger bubbling up. 

“What did you just say?”

“Babe.” He sits up on his forearms. “I’m just trying to rile you up a little bit. I’m just having a little fun.” He looks you up and down, he’s getting harder underneath you.

Right… this is something you’re familiar with. Something that could lead to even a moment of serenity. But it’s never that way with him. His eyes judge you and urge you to satisfy him. He doesn’t even have to say a word and you’re scrambling to make sure he’s pleased. You’re giving your all as he lazily lies beneath you, enjoying the show. Exuding passion with nothing in return is exhausting, that exhaustion finally dawning on you.

“Well I’m not.” You say before swinging your leg back over him. You slide out of his bed and start putting your clothes back on.

“Where are you going? Come on, you don’t actually want to leave.” He barely moves, just shifting a little to the side.

“I just need a little space for the night.” You hurriedly slip into your pants, wanting to leave instead of having this conversation.

“No you don’t. You need company like you need water.” His velvety smooth voice that once coaxed you into giving your all to him is gone. What’s left is harsh yet dismissive.

“You don’t know what I need, Myungsoo.” You shoot back, throwing your shirt on the bed.

“I know, everyone knows. You’re so lonely you walk around everywhere like a lost puppy but run away whenever anyone tries to get to know you. There’s a reason you were texting me and not your friends you were just drinking with. I’m all you have. So don’t be stupid.” 

Just like that, the harsh lines in his face melt away and he’s back to smirking, patting the space beside him in the bed.

Is this what you deserve? They say you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. And he’s right. He’s so right, again. Maybe you should just sink into the warmth and turn your brain off. Turn on the switch to perform.

However, as you think, emotions build inside you. It feels like pressure behind your skull threatening to pop. Tears abruptly start gushing down your face as you grab your shirt and rush out of the door. You can’t stop the ugly noises from leaving you as you rush home in the cold night air. 

By the time you’re in your own bed, your face and head hurt from the intensity of your sobs. There are no tears left as you continue to sob. It didn’t work. You were supposed to use him as an opportunity to take away some stress but somehow it’s worse. There’s nothing you can do. You’ll just have to live with this alone. Forever.

CRACK

-🖊️⇝

“I was so close but I didn’t make it.” Jiwon sighs dejectedly. 

“I don’t know what they don’t see in you! I think you’re a great performer.” Kai laments.

“You did a great job.” Beomgyu rubs her hand and she instantly smiles. 

“Thanks. And at the end of the day I still have my group and you guys.” Everyone gushes at her response. 

Beomgyu’s mind wanders to the place it has been going frequently these days. He wonders what you’re doing. What it would be like if you were still friends with the members. If he didn’t make you cry. Would you be smiling as widely as Jiwon is even after failing?

“Look who’s lost in thought again.” Soobin pats Beomgyu’s back but he’s stuck. He’s nestled deep within thoughts of you.

“You know you could talk to us about anything, right?” Jiwon moves her hand to caress his. No. He doesn’t know this. In fact, he knows it’s not true.

“Why do you think she was crying that day?” Beomgyu doesn’t look up but the table goes quiet. The tension is lathered thick over the air. Jiwon laughs nervously.

“Wait, Beomgyu weren’t you just talking about–” Jiwon attempts to change the topic.

“You would think she’d be really happy right now.” He continues. 

“Let’s not talk about this–” Jiwon tries but Beomgyu turns toward her.

“Didn’t you say I could talk to you guys about anything?”

“But Beomgyu… talking about her is only going to make you more upset.” Jiwon lowers her voice, going back to how cautious she was when they first met.

“Do I look upset? You guys are the ones acting like there’s a gun to your heads when she’s brought up.” Beomgyu resumes eating while everyone else is still frozen.

“Gyu. It’s because you should let go of her. It’ll be better for you.” Her hand that was once soothing on his now felt like an owner trying to calm their dog after someone knocked on the door. 

“You don’t know what’s better for me.” Beomgyu grumbles.

Soobin stands abruptly. “Beomgyu, can we talk in the kitchen?”

“Gladly.” Beomgyu immediately follows the taller male out the dining room and down the hall. Before Soobin could start scolding him he had things to get off his chest first.

“Why did you introduce me to her in the first place?”

“She asked to meet you. She was interested.” Soobin expresses annoyedly.

“I’m sure plenty of girls have done that, why did you decide to do so for her.” Beomgyu probes.

“Because I knew her and trusted her.”

“Trusted her to be able to handle a project.” Beomgyu rushes out. And before Soobin can deny anything he’s rushing toward him with a finger pointed at his face. “I don’t need to be fixed.”

Soobin sighs, uneasy about how this conversation may go. 

“You’re not broken, you’re hurt. Everyone gets hurt, Beomgyu. There’s nothing wrong with accepting help. We’re just trying to help you move on-”

“I don’t want to move on! You guys were so fucking anal about how I treated her and now you just pretend she doesn’t exist?” Beomgyu shouts furiously.

Soobin decides it’s better to just rip off the bandaid. There's no changing the truth. 

“She’s gone. It’s been half a year and she’s made no attempt to reach out to any of us. It’s clear that part of our lives is over. Beomgyu, you need to focus on yourself right now. We can get through this together.” Soobin tries to coax a reasonable reaction out of Beomgyu but it doesn’t seem to be working. He’s only getting more worked up.

“Stop. Stop.” Beomgyu shoves his hands into his hair before gritting his teeth. “I’m so sick of everyone shoving me under a telescope. At least she never pried.”

“Are you insinuating that what you guys had was anything remotely healthy? Continuously hanging around someone who you despise that much isn’t good for either of you. I saw the marks all over her body.”

Beomgyu sees red, he’s grabbing Soobin’s collar before he could think it through.

“You shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know her like I do.” Beomgyu shoves him away, his glare hot like lava as he walks out of the room. Heading toward his bedroom he doesn’t see Jiwon on the other side of the doorway. She bites her fist as a tear trickles down her cheek. 

“When’s Beomgyu coming over next?” Mao asks, switching to kneel on the couch toward a stone faced Jiwon. Jiwon takes in a quick breath, checking one last time if this is the right move.

“I don’t think he is.”

Mao and the other girls in the room all make a noise in surprise and crowd around Jiwon on the couch. “What the hell happened?” Haeyoon asked incredulously.

Jiwon lets out a small derisive laugh to pair with a tiny smirk as she drops her head. “He’s hung up over his ex.”

The girls all switch between comforting her and cursing him. 

“Who’s the ex?” Chaerin asks angrily.

Jiwon thinks on it again. Fuck it.

“Do you know that song Strawberry Jam?”

-🖊️⇝

Something is unresolved. That much is clear as you both lay in your own rooms, tear stains on each of your pillows. And as long as it stays unresolved, you both will be unable to be loved. 

You’ve denied four invitations to hang out with Chaewon, and you’re surprised she still asks. This month is a free schedule for you to rest after your song promotions are over.

Beomgyu either plays video games until his eyes are dry or lies in bed scrolling through social media. His members pop in to give him food.

Your stomach twists painfully as you watch tv in bed. The colors dance around blurrily as your eyes start to water again.

A month didn’t feel like a month, but you lost track of your days so it makes sense when your manager comes into your room. 

“What’s that smell? Get up and take a shower. We’re going to go over this month’s schedule.” She shuts the door, trusting that you’ll follow orders. Even she used to be kinder to you. What’s the use of attempting to start relationships when they don’t work out. Even your own parents don’t talk to you anymore. You laugh hoarsely. The laughing grows louder and louder until you’re cackling.

You cackle in the shower as well. Is this what happens after you’ve cried so much tears don’t come out anymore?

Beomgyu regretted chasing away Jiwon the minute he did it. She had a similar hurt expression to you when he yelled at her to get out of his room. Look at how each of his relationships ended. Why the hell would Hyesoo stay with a guy like him. Beomgyu’s lip quivers before he’s crying into his pillow again.

You both carry out what’s scheduled for you numbly, so checked out neither of you can add anything valuable to any conversation. 

“Remember how you signed up to be an MC? Well you got accepted! You can continue submitting songs for your next comeback but this should be your priority for now.” One of the women at the table inform you. Fuck, you did do that, didn’t you.

It turns out it’s pretty easy. Just smile and read your lines. It’s much easier to turn your MC switch on, it seems. You had even gotten comfortable with it. Your co-MC is friendly. Formal, but friendly. Everything was working out.

You lift up your cue card in the silence of your empty room.

“And here’s TXT with their new comeback...” Your enthusiasm wanes when you think about standing in a room with him again.

CRACK

It’ll be fine, just flip the switch.

You can feel that he’s there, everyone can feel the tension. The you that was involved with him is switched off right now. Right now you’re conducting an interview. 

Beomgyu slowly fades to the background as you watch the other members, remembering the good memories you had together. Soobin does most of the talking which makes your chest unwittingly constrict. After this you’ll be all alone again.

The makeup artist finally gets done touching up your makeup and you get a moment to stew. Only a short moment as the other MC approaches. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

The simple question forces your switch off. The two of you made eye contact at the end of the interview, and for some reason a whirlwind of emotions threatened to escape you. You’re not okay.

“It’s just, I know you have a past with Beomgyu.”

“Yeah–” You look up at him as your brain fog slowly dissipates. “What did you say?”

“I heard that you wrote Strawberry Jam about him and I…”

Everything silently shatters, the pieces remaining all clattering to the floor.

“Look at the back of her neck.” You whip your head around to see two idols whispering before looking shocked and scurrying away. You send a shaky hand to the back of your neck to cover it. Doing so makes your sleeve drop and reveal scratches on your arm. You begin hyperventilating as you scan your surroundings. Multiple people, staff, idols, everybody is whispering and looking at you. You block out the other MC yelling after you as you run out of the room.

Was it Myungsoo? Was he retaliating because you left him? You never mentioned Beomgyu though. No… it could only be one person. Tears stream down your face as you hunt for their dressing room. You pass a mirror on the way and get stuck staring at your void of a face. Only a pair of reddened, crazed eyes stare back. You refocus on your hunt and finally find their door. You swing it open and rush toward Beomgyu in a frenzy.

As you enter, everything around Beomgyu is a blur. The staff looking shocked, Yeonjun and Soobin jumping up to restrain you. And you. Your makeup is completely ruined with a look of utter fury on your face as you cock your hand back before striking him across the face. Time goes back to normal as the staff gasp. Beomgyu places a hand over his stinging flesh. It prickles, burning through his numbness. The initial impact of the slap was like a crack of lightning striking him. He feels a blur of emotions threatening to pour out.

“Why the fuck would you do that?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Yeonjun and Soobin had successfully restrained you but you thrash to get free. You curse and swipe at Beomgyu, yelling incoherently. Beomgyu slowly stands up and approaches you. Taehyun has to join and hold each arm when Beomgyu is in reaching distance.

“Let me go!” You shriek like a raging animal, trying to rip yourself free. You kick at him, your heels striking his shins and sending a piercing bout of pain up his legs.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Get away from her!” Soobin yells.

“Let her go.” Beomgyu yells over the commotion.

“What?! Why would–” Yeonjun starts but Soobin lets go.

“Just do it. Let him have her.” Soobin spits, scowling at the younger male whose eyes are still trained on you. Taehyun and Yeonjun let you go and you immediately slap him again.

“You just couldn’t help trying to ruin my career again? Do you really hate me that much after I gave you what you wanted?” You whisper shakily, your eyes wild as they take him in.

“Beomgyu… what did you do?” Kai’s voice is weak behind him.

Beomgyu takes your arm and pulls you out of the room. You yell for him to let you go and strike his arm. Each hit is like a jolt of clarity for Beomgyu, the pain an afterthought. He pulls you into an empty room where you begin banging your fists against his chest. He stumbles backward, slamming you against the door and shutting it. 

He restrains your arms, squeezing them to keep them steady as you thrash again. “Why?! What else do you want?!”

“What did I do, he asked.” Beomgyu laughed. He throws his head against the door and laughs harder. You look on in utter disbelief.

“Is this funny to you?”

“What’s funny is that I didn’t do anything and somehow shit has still hit the fan. My members are questioning me again, you’re fucking hitting me again.” The amusement Beomgyu was expressing earlier is completely gone as he starts his rant.

“You told everyone that my song was about us!” 

“I didn’t!” He shouts back.

“Then who did Beomgyu?!”

“I’m not the only person who knew about us.” Beomgyu yanks you closer by your arms. You finally manage to free your arms and you drive a finger into his chest.

“But you are the only person who has proven to be malicious enough to do something like this.”

“How do you know it’s not one of your friends? You’re all big and famous now, maybe you shouldn’t go around telling anyone your secrets.”

“I don’t have any friends anymore, Beomgyu!” You shout, your voice cracking as a lone tear rolls down your cheek. “Remember? You drove me away from my only friends. I didn’t go “whoring around Enhypen”. I have no one.” The last of the sentence shreds your throat. You run your hands over your face before pointing at him again. “I’m going through enough and you choose to fuck with me. This is all I have Beomgyu!” You pound both your fists against his chest and again you’re moving in slow motion. He can see it in your eyes. In how hard you clench your teeth. He can feel it each time you strike him.

“Why would you do it?” You sob.

“Slap me.”

You gape at him, chest rising and falling violently as you make up for the amount of air you lost. 

Beomgyu is the one getting riled up now. “Do it. Slap me. Fucking do it–”

You strike him hard enough that the corner of his mouth splits. 

“Do it again.”

Your hand is impacting his cheek as soon as his sentence ends. 

“Again.”

You’re both breathing frantically as you slap him again and another time before he can even ask. He grabs your forearm and yanks you closer. “Do it. I know what you want. Fucking ruin me.”

You grab his face and pull his mouth to smash against yours. He lifts you up and you immediately wrap your legs around him. The taste of his tongue, his blood, it lights you up. All your emotions come flooding out as you grip his shirt and tear it apart. Your noses bump harshly against each other as he repositions you against the wall.

You can barely act on your urges with how intense Beomgyu’s actions are. Every ounce of passion you exude is given back to you tenfold. Within moments of letting you down you are both bare for each other.

Beomgyu’s skin being exposed is perfect for your nails dying to sink into it. You reach your arms under his that cage against the wall and slowly rake your fingernails down his back. He winces, letting out small noises of pain. The anger and sadness inside you has hit its peak. You’re so fucking angry, but the pained look on his face hurts.

You want to do something about your anger, but you still retract your hands and sink against the wall. Beomgyu looks at you confused before drawing closer. You shy away from him, whimpering as the bitter truth sets in.

Beomgyu didn’t force you to stop talking to Soobin. Beomgyu didn’t force you to ghost your friends. Beomgyu isn’t the cause of your loneliness. 

It’s you.

He reaches out to touch you but you push him away. His saddened eyes make you ache which in turn makes you more angry. But you can no longer bring yourself to hit him. A surge of rage sends your own hand across your face. The sting is distracting, it’s something. You strike your other cheek harder and Beomgyu stops you before you can do it again. 

“No.” He takes your hand and pulls it near his face. Your eyes follow your hand as it closes in on him. 

“Hit me.”

Your eyes move slowly towards his lips as they form the words, then up to his dark, big eyes. They’re swarming with depth and emotion. You take in his entire face, reddened by your hand. Lips swollen from your mouth. Hair tousled in the chaos. You see him.

You thought tears would be a rare occurrence by now, but there goes another, skitting from your cheekbone to the floor. You smile bitterly.

“I can’t.”

The gleam of your tears brings life to your otherwise tired eyes. He wants to question why, to wallow in self pity with his own delusional reasoning. But no, in your face is all the answers he needs. The same reason he hasn’t hurt you once this entire time. You sigh, letting your head fall, your eyes darkening as they close.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You express weakly.

Seeing you tremble silently makes his previous attempts to pin his resentment on you seem absurd. Beomgyu lets go of your hand.

“I don’t either.”

It’s like clarity washes over the both of you at the same time as you both take in your surroundings. Assess the situation. You shake your head.

“Then what are we doing here?” You brush past him in pursuit of your clothing, pick up each article scattered around the room. 

“It’s just like we said. We don’t know what else to do.” He says behind you.

You slow your collection as you let his words sink in. You’ve exhausted every other option. Therapy, rough sex, songwriting, diaries, crying. Then you feel his warmth behind you. Your eyes ease closed as you melt into him. Your mind goes blank and for the first time in a long time, it’s not out of force or sheer exhaustion. Both of you relax into one another. You’d have to go out eventually, explain yourself and face scrutiny. Risk people’s opinions of you degrading. There’s nothing to worry about here. You’ve already seen the worst of each other. There’s nothing to guard in fear.

You turn around to face him. He looks different. Softer. Unintimidating. He could say the same for you. You climb on top of him, shivering as his member brushes against your mound. Your lips meld together like softening butter. They glide, becoming slick with the other’s saliva. 

He glides his nose up the side of your face as he slips inside you. Both of your mouths hang agape as he slots all the way in. He’s buried deep inside you, no space left unfilled. The two of you substitute kissing for pressing your heads together, feeling every part of the other's skin. You trail your tongue across his jaw before kissing up to his ear. Every sense is filled with Beomgyu to the point where you can’t think of anything else. His makeup, his cologne, his body wash, his deodorant, his lotion, his taste, his touch, him, him, him. Your heart swells as he showers you with as much attention as you give him and then some.

Your hips move in unison, grinding together. Once you kiss again there’s no longer any space in between. Disconnecting sends slightly louder pants and moans into the air as you both start moving faster. You’ve never heard him moan like this. It’s so unrestrained and vulnerable, exposing his eagerness just as much as his hands squeezing your ass does. 

You find you feel full in more ways than one right now. He saw you at your ugliest and he’s still here right now holding you like he never plans to let go. As if reading your thoughts, he clutches you even closer. You feel a light, bubbly laugh float from your chest as your legs start to tingle. You gasp as you climax with a stutter of your hips. Your movements slow ‘til they’ve almost ceased as you drowsily rest your forehead on his. The two of you rock back and forth in the only clean circle of the room amongst the chaos.

A moment of serenity is all the two of you are granted when you hear a knock at the door. Soobin comes in, looking disappointed as he regards you both.

“Are you done? Everyone’s looking for you.”

-🖊️⇝

Beomgyu got an earful for disappearing that day. You could’ve gotten into an ungodly amount of trouble if the other MC didn’t stick up for you. He felt responsible and was beyond apologetic. You forgave him, of course. He did nothing wrong. Also, you've come to terms with the fact that you know you have nothing to do with that song. It's someone else's demo you got paid to perform. It doesn't define you.

“Hey, are you coming?” Chaewon asks. You go to answer but notice a couple of conflicted looks from her members. A quick thought that you “better not annoy them” crosses your mind. You imagine tagging along and making things awkward and it makes you wince.

“No, I-”

“Come on.” Yunjin says dismissively and pulls you by the arm to follow them to their next location. 

You sit stiffly on the couch, clapping along to Eunchae’s loud singing as everyone around you cheers.

She concludes with two bows and a loud ‘thank you’ into the microphone. 

“Go ahead and pick who’s next.” Yunjin yells gleefully. You’re too distracted to realize Yunjin’s hand is hovering over you with her finger extended down.

“Hmm…” Eunchae pretends to think about it for a comically short amount of time before yelling out your name. Your confusion is cut short by a cheering Yunjin and Chaewon pushing you toward the screen. She hands you the mic which you take hesitantly. Once they're seated again they initiate a chant.

“Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!”

Your brain does the honors of going over all of the embarrassing ways this could play out. Regardless of that, you’re already singing. It’s either that or running out the door, and the latter would take much more effort and explaining. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

You finish to cheers and applause and you bow in response.

-🖊️⇝

Things in the dorm have gone back to being tense. Soobin isn’t giving Beomgyu the silent treatment this time, but it’s clear he’s disappointed. Everyone is under the impression that they hooked up again only to go back to hating each other. Mostly because you haven’t come over yet. Beomgyu was giving it some time, but now he’s ready.

“Stop acting weird.” He sighs, rubbing his nose bridge. “I did have sex with her. No, the song isn’t about me. We don’t hate each other. You guys can stop tiptoeing around me now.”

The members visibly untense, but only to express confusion.

“Where is she then?” Soobin speaks up, casting a stern look his way.

“Why does her being here matter?” Beomgyu finally gets to ask.

“Remember when you called me naive for having faith in her?” Soobin grits his teeth. “After all that she’s still-”

You cautiously click open the door, slowly revealing your apologetic expression. “I was going to wait but I didn’t…” You stop when you see the hardened look on Soobin’s face upon seeing you. “H-hello everyone.”

Kai stands up and marches over to give you a crushing hug. The gesture makes your heart flutter.

“You didn’t even call.” He pouts.

“I’m sorry.” You squeeze out. Taehyun and Yeonjun come next. Taehyun gives you a side hug while Yeonjun pats your back.

“Welcome back.” Yeonjun says with a wide smile.

The moment is interrupted by Soobin walking out of the living room into his own and slamming the door. You immediately follow after him, an action that Beomgyu watches carefully. Of course he notices a sharp pain in his chest, but he sits with it. Studies it. You could be chasing after him to reveal your true feelings and this time he may accept. He doesn’t want that. It even makes him a little bitter, but he can’t stop you. He can say whatever ugly words come to his mind to try and scare you away, but this time they may not work. And you’re not doing anything wrong. Him cuddling with you and drifting off to sleep in your bed doesn’t mean you’re dating. Moreover, you’re not Hyesoo. He’s seen every part of you by now. Regardless of everything, he’ll still be happy to have you in his life.

“You have sex with me and then never show your face again? Do you know how that feels?” Soobin explains desperately with tears springing to his eyes. “I knew the sex was meaningless, that was the whole point, but for you to up and leave afterward like I was just some random guy really sucks.”

“I-I didn’t want to leave, Soobin. I was too mortified to show my face again.”

“Because that’s what you guys being together does! You break down each other and then turn to breaking down those around you just trying to help. It’s selfish for you to waltz back in here like everything is back to normal.”

“It’s not.” You state confidently. “Everything is very, very different now. I can’t go into public spaces without being recognized, I have more people around me than ever before, and Beomgyu and I don’t hate each other anymore. You said it yourself, we’re similar and we wreck everything around us. We do it to ourselves. Beomgyu realizes it now and I certainly do. I don’t want things to go back to normal, because that version of me is gone.” The more you speak, the easier the words come. You smile hopefully at Soobin.

“I’m moving on with or without you, but I’d really love it if you entered this new chapter with me.”

You grab both of Soobin’s hands as his head droops. He’s silent for what feels like decades passing you by. Then he squeezes your hands.

Epilogue 🖊️⇝

Chaewon: you should apologize.

You pass the phone to Beomgyu in the midst of his “advice”. He crosses one arm over his chest as he reads the very short text for an inappropriate amount of time.

“But you didn’t know, right?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not in the wrong.” You groan, snatching your phone back. He snatches it right back and starts texting. 

“Hey!” You go to take your phone back but he leans away further and further until his body is caging the phone against the couch. You climb over him and bite his shoulder but he just laughs as the text is sent. You frantically snatch your phone back and look in horror.

You: tomorrow at my house 6pm;’2[21

“What the fuck! Beomgyu!” You shriek.

“You didn’t know, therefore you didn’t intentionally do anything wrong. But you did hurt Kazuha’s feelings and the members are very mad at you.” He explains calmly, smacking on his food. 

“Thanks for reminding me of my unfortunate situation.” You deadpan.

“You were worried they think you're a horrible person. Boom–” He motions at your phone with his sandwich. “You can fix that. You’re worried you’re actually a horrible person, but you had no intentions of hurting anyone.”

“Yeah but you weren’t there. The way I said it was so insensitive in context and the look on Zuha’s face,” You whimper and hide your face in your hands.

“You didn’t hurt her on purpose.” The finality in Beomgyu’s voice makes you look up at him. His face is serious. “I’m certain of it. Now come here.” He pats his lap and you’re eagerly scooting over to lay your head on his lap. He sighs.

“You idiot.” He brushes away the tear falling down your face. “Why don’t you listen to me?”

“Hurting someone as sweet as her is pure evil.” You whisper.

“I don’t have to know you to say that an evil person wouldn’t be this remorseful. But knowing you, you’re not the type of person to go into an exchange ready to hurt an innocent person. You’re the type of person who sits quietly thinking about what you could say that will make people laugh the loudest and smile the brightest. I’m very sure that’s what you were thinking that day as well.” He voices his thoughts as he strokes your hair, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the singe of a fire starting in your heart. He smiles lazily and it's the cherry on top of the artwork that is his face. 

You slowly lean up before capturing his lips. It’s slow, tender, loaded. Kissing him after all the chaos feels like lying in a field of dandelions, the seeds breaking away and dancing in the wind. His skin feels like the warm hug of sunlight. His voice is like birds singing. You pull away and look at him in awe. He seems to be mirroring your feelings if his drunken expression is anything to go by. He shuts his mouth and brushes the back of his hand against your cheek.

“You’re kissing me outside of us having sex?” Beomgyu sports exaggerated shock and presses his palm to your forehead. His antics force a giggle out of you. “Are you sick?!”

You swipe his hand away, unable to ignore the burning light in your chest as you look at him and he silently looks back. You lean in and kiss him one last time before risking it all once you realize what this feeling is.

“I think I love you.” You whisper, looking desperately at his face to catch anything unsavory. His smile drops, looking genuinely shocked this time. He grabs your face and pecks your lips over and over before moving to the other parts of your face until you're stuck in a fit of laughter. He pulls away with adoration in his eyes.

“I loved you first.”

#txt #beomgyu #one way #kpop #smut #angst #TO FREEDOM!!111!

[imhenritz]

Giving him the love he deserves (Sanji x Reader) Part 2

Phew, wipes brows, I think it’ll be a good idea to continue until it comes to a conclusion.

Reader is still Mc (Main Character), but I made it sound like it's a name! I'm still too lazy to think of a real name. Forgive me!

The prompt for the story is: "The reader gets sucked into One Piece after wishing that someone would love Sanji like he is supposed to be loved, as nobody has given him a chance. She would love to give him that chance if only she could. One time, she was in her room, falling asleep while recording her voice for a cover request sent to her. When she woke up, she found herself in a boat floating, wearing pieces of jewelry fit for nobility. Her neck, ears, and bracelets were all glittering in the darkness."

Part 2 under the cut. Part 1 here

Under the soft, flickering glow of the ship's lanterns, Sanji found himself engulfed in a sea of emotions, his heart tumultuous and restless. Mc's melodic soft singing floated into the room, a gentle lullaby to his troubled thoughts. His worry for her, his anticipation for their future together, all clashed within him, a storm threatening to overwhelm his senses. Her decision to join the crew, made without their usual shared deliberation, left him touched by her independence yet troubled by the absence of their partnership in this significant choice.

As Mc entered the room, she seemed to sense his unease, her steps light and graceful. Her touch, like a caress of understanding, brushed against his cheek, her eyes filled with tenderness and compassion.

"What's wrong?" she inquired, her voice a soothing melody that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace.

"Darling, my love, I..." Sanji's voice wavered, his emotions a tangled mess. "I was worried. Worried that you made this decision without me."

"I'm here in your room, aren't I? I'm just about to talk to you..."

"But you already said yes."

Her eyes narrowed playfully at him and tapped his nose. "Unless you got ears around me, you wouldn't have heard the condition I placed before saying yes."

His heart sank. He doubted her, but she shook her head, her eyes softening with understanding. "I told him the condition I gave Luffy was that he takes you as our chef or I would have had to decline. He already asked for you, Ji."

Sanji's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of relief and gratitude flooding his senses. He cupped her face gently, his touch tender yet desperate to convey his emotions. "I... I'm sorry for doubting you, Darling. I love you. You know I do, so much-I was just-"

Her fingers traced a reassuring pattern on his cheek. "-I understand," she said, her voice filled with unwavering determination. "Zeff had already agreed to it a long time ago, and I would never leave you behind. I'll fight tooth and nail, even kill if I have to, to stay by your side."

Sanji felt a surge of emotion, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Her words, saturated with love and determination, washed over him, cleansing his worried soul. He realized he had been anxious for nothing; her commitment to their love was unyielding, dispelling his fears like dawn breaking through the night.

In that moment, Sanji's heart swelled with profound gratitude for the woman before him. His eyes, usually sharp and confident, softened with the intensity of his affection.

"I swear. From now on, I'll always believe in you, Darling," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I adore you"

Mc smiled, her eyes shimmering with unwavering resolve. She placed her hand over his, pressing her lips against his palm. "And I, you, Ji," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Just ask me, and I'll always be honest with you."

In that moment, the storm within Sanji's heart calmed, replaced by a profound sense of peace.

---

Under the twinkling night sky, the Baratie resonated with the lively sounds of a party in full swing. Sanji, momentarily taking a break from his culinary duties, made his way to the fish head, where an open space and a bustling bar awaited him. His keen eyes scanned the room, but they always found their way back to his darling. She glided about the ship with a purposeful grace that mesmerized him. The tray she carried was a culinary masterpiece, a feast fit for kings that elicited appreciative sighs from those lucky enough to catch a whiff of its fragrant aroma.

Whispers of gratitude followed Mc like a sweet melody, a chorus of appreciation that echoed her every step. Usopp and Zoro, their steadfast resolves easily swayed by the promise of a good meal, succumbed to Mc's delectable offerings. Sanji's brow furrowed, an unsettling pang of jealousy pricking at his normally composed demeanor. He scoffed disdainfully, dismissing their newfound friendship as mere bribery, drawn in by the irresistible allure of her food and drinks he made.

Nami, the ship's sharp-witted navigator, kept a watchful eye on Mc from a distance, her gaze as sharp as the swords Zoro carried at his side. Suspicion etched lines on her face as she observed Mc's interactions. Unperturbed by Nami's icy demeanor, Mc extended a warm invitation, her voice carrying a friendly undertone. "Why not join them, Nami? Our sous chef whipped up a delightful dessert tonight."

Nami’s response was a simple shake of her head, a refusal that hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. Sanji, known for his admiration of women, felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness for Mc. His irritation with Nami deepened, a storm swirling beneath his calm exterior. He was hot-headed when it came to someone being relatively mean and cold to his loving girlfriend.

"More for us, then!" Usopp chimed in, oblivious to the tension. His grin toward Mc was genuine, a testament to his genuine appreciation for her culinary talents. Zoro nodded in agreement, mischief glinting in his eyes.

With a final glance at Nami, Mc continued on her path, her spirit seemed undeterred by the navigator's indifference. Sanji watched her graceful retreat, his heart swelling with admiration for her unwavering kindness.

But he couldn't contain his frustration any longer. He walked to Nami, his voice tinged with annoyance yet laced with politeness. "Was the dessert not to your liking, madame?"

Nami met his gaze, her expression unwavering. "Your little girlfriend shouldn't keep bringing us food. She's drowning us in debt," she replied, her words sharp and precise.

Sanji's protective instincts flared, but he held back, maintaining the gentlemanly qualities instilled in him by Zeff. "That food is deducted from her pay. She's merely extending kindness to the crew, especially since you're the chore boy's friend.” He paused, letting that sink in. With a gallant bow, he added, “If something is not to your satisfaction, Madame, feel free to let us know.”

He turned away, but the unspoken tension still hung heavily in the air. Meanwhile, Luffy, blissfully ignorant of the brewing storm, bounded over, his usual enthusiasm cutting through the discomfort like a beacon of light.

"Hey, what's going on?" Luffy asked, his eyes darting between Sanji and Nami.

Sanji clenched his fists, his frustration evident. "Nothing, chore boy." He frowned. “How did you escape the dishes?”

“Escape? Mc sent me here to get you," Luffy scratched his head, confusion etched on his face. “She said I can just come back tomorrow?”

Sanji's gaze softened at Luffy's words. He took a deep breath, his anger dissipating like smoke in the wind. "No need, I'll be there."

Nami, too, seemed to relent, her shoulders relaxing slightly. With a nod, she acknowledged his politeness.

---

After the tense encounter with Nami, Sanji made his way to Mc's chambers. His knuckles rapped gently on the door, and it swung open to reveal her, bathed in the soft glow of the room's lanterns. She was halfway dressed in her night clothes, an enchanting sight that would have distracted any man, but he managed to keep his focus.

"You know, you can just come in, silly," she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Sanji smirked, refusing to let her playful remark derail his manners. "A gentleman never forgets his courtesy, my love," he retorted, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

The frustration from his encounter with Nami still lingered in his chest. Mc, ever perceptive, sensed his mood. She moved closer, her hand finding his, her touch like a calming breeze. "What happened, Ji?" she asked, concern etched in her eyes.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's Nami," he confessed, his voice tinged with annoyance. "She's been unnecessarily cold towards you. I can't stand it when someone treats you that way."

Mc's gentle fingers traced soothing circles on his palm. "My love, you know Nami has her own struggles. We all do. Maybe something's bothering her."

He grunted in frustration, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. "I forgot for a moment how well you know all of us," he admitted, his voice heavy with exasperation. "But what will happen now? Will she continue to treat you like this?"

"Of course not," Mc's touch was grounding, her presence a balm for his frayed nerves. She guided him toward the bed, and he sat down heavily, his frustration dissipating slowly under her comforting touch. "Come here," she said softly, pulling him closer.

He allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace, his head resting against her chest. She hummed gently, the soothing sound reverberating through him. The scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his, all of it calmed the storm inside him.

"Let's not worry about tomorrow, Ji," she murmured, her voice a melodic whisper. "Right now, in this moment, it's just us. You and me. That's all that matters."

He closed his eyes, allowing her presence to wash over him, grounding him in the here and now. His frustration melted away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. In that moment, he realized that no matter what challenges they faced, as long as he had her by his side, he could weather any storm.

And so, in the quiet of her chambers, under the soft glow of the lanterns, he let go of his worries. He let himself be enveloped by her love, finding solace in the knowledge that they were in this together, bound by love as unyielding as the ocean that stretched out before them. With her singing softly, he drifted into a peaceful sleep, secure in the arms of the woman he loved.

======== In the midst of the soft, flickering glow of the ship's lanterns, the once tranquil atmosphere shattered with the arrival of Mihawk, the formidable warlord whose mere presence sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls. Zoro, their steadfast swordsman, never one to back down from a challenge, boldly stepped forward to confront Mihawk. The crew stood in stunned silence, their wide eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them, panic rippling through them like wildfire.

======== Already drafting part 3! I have fluffs between Mc and Sanji though lined up though that could be a filler. I spent writing those more than preparing for Part 3. Part 3 here

P.S. I didn't know anyone would read it so thank you so much for reading!!

#opla sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x reader fluff #one piece sanji #sanji #sanji fluff #sanji x you #black leg sanji #luffy #red leg zeff #zeff #drabble #one piece live action #one pice #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #one piece netflix #op live action #straw hat pirates #baratie #Art3misa635 #nb26fort #3v37773 #under-kitty #Giving him the love he deserves (Sanji x Reader)

[soulinheehee]

Please could you make a one-shot or headcanons to a reader who have a family with Arlecchino ? Like a reader who is a motherly figure to Lyney, Lynnette and Freminet and how their structure familiar would be.

if you want to you can add other children for the House of Heart, or even children that they decided to have for themselves? Idk it's been stuck in my mind for a while i love think in Arlecchino as a father, it's too cute and at same time funny to me 😔

Family with Arlecchino HCs

˚⁺‧ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘵. 𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦, 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵

˚⁺‧ 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦: 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 (𝘴𝘧𝘸), 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥

˚⁺‧ 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: I'm sorry it took so long for the second request! i was actually planning to do another one, but I am completely out of ideas... i was saving this one because I really like it, and wanted to give it a little more attention, but I really hated how silent I've become!! so i just quickly finished this one, I hope you don't mind 🙏

Well first of all Arlecchino, while a good parent, is completely silly!!!!

She really does care about her kids and even though she's strict she'll give in to their little antics from time to time, so don't be surprised if you accidentally see her playing barbie with lyney or.. idk, doing girldad things with Lynette. I have no idea what dads do with their daughters but Arlecchino definitely does silly things with Lynette that's for sure.

Lyney my sweet little princess.

He doesn't realize it, but he needs constant reassurance. He always thinks that he alone should be enough for something, and it always leads to him overworking himself or getting into unexpected situations.

Both you and Arlecchino always tell him that he can and should rely on others, but even though he tries to, his wish to prove himself wins more often than not.

Arlecchino relies a lot on him during various missions, and so do his siblings, but he just can't bring himself to understand that not everything has to be controlled by him..

Are you the one who accidentally taught him how to rizz? He probably watched your interactions with his "Father" a little too closely...

Kitty cat Lynette🫶🫶

You have no idea how THE HECK she brews her tea. How in the world has she not burned the teapot yet???

Speaking of it; you're sure she is somehow able to break things that aren't even in the same room as her. That vacuum cleaner in the guest room? It definitely somehow broke while she was washing dishes.

The dishes, by the way, are shattered.

Did you know that Lynette does chores badly on purpose, so that next time you won't choose her to do them? Well even if you didn't, now you do.

It seems like you always scold her the most out of three, in the end, she was the one to get her vision first, so she should be an example for her siblings.

Does she eat cat food?... I'm sure there was a least a few occasions...

FREMIMI IS MY SWEET AUTISTIC SON I LOVE HIM😭😭😭

You definitely are his safe space. He comes to you whenever something is too much for him, finding comfort in just being around you.

It's silence and even lack of any interaction most of the time; he only needs to have you around for the peace of his mind. He's grateful you leave him be and give him his space in moments like these.

He has a very hard time letting people in his heart, but around you and his "Father" he's sure he is loved.

Is this love conditional? What if he accidentally messed something up, or failed at something? Would you still love him?

He's conflicted over whether he wants to know the answer or not.

But he knows one thing for sure: with you, he's safe. With you: his parents, his siblings. His family.

When it comes to how your family would work, it's obvious that Arlecchino is the strict parent, while you're the softer one. Sadly, she's more absent than all of you would want her to be, given her job.

Her strictness combined with absence really doesn't make her good in the eyes of children, so you always make sure to remind them that their "Father" loves them.

Kids constantly miss her, and when she's around, they surround ber with their attention every single second she has to spare... Wait, no, it's stupid and silly, you can't be jealous of children! But you can't help but feel a little bad that sometimes she spends more time with her work, be it Fatui missions/gatherings or orphanage, instead of you..

... But then on one of your anniversaries, it turns out that the kids actually arranged a little celebration for the two of you!! Your heart melts instantly and fills with affection, and you quickly forget all your silly thoughts, instead you think about how much you love Arlecchino for all the things that she's done, and how you love the kids for how much they're trying to be good children.

Of course, it is not the only things you love them for. All of them, kids and Arlecchino, are individuals with both good and bad, you never forget it, and accept them whole.

I have a feeling Arlecchino is not the only one who gets called weirdly. Ah yes, Father Arlecchino and her children: two daughters, Lyney and Freminet, and their brother, Arlecchino's son, Lynette. You don't know whether to laugh or cry.

We all know that she's most likely an orphan herself, and probably was raised under the previous Knave, who abused and lied to Freminet. But unlike him, she actually grew up under the previous director's "care", and I can only imagine how terrible that could've been.

So given that, it's actually no wonder this woman isn't very great at showing emotions. Maybe you aren't sure how to do this either, but you definitely do everything in your power to show her, and the rest of your family, how you love each and every one of them. They do their best to do the same thing in return.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #lyney #lyney x reader #lynette #lynette x reader #freminet #freminet x reader #female reader #wlw

[ao3komorii]

On the Hunt (Astarion/Reader)

Happy Halloween! I want to write something for Raphael eventually, but here's a shorter Astarion thing for now. Hope you enjoy the story :)

----

You had gotten very good at detecting when the light left his eyes.

It happened a lot less after Cazador had been felled, but often when Astarion had little else to focus on, his red eyes travelled back in time, back to his own world of pain and loss and hopelessness.

It didn’t help that with all that he had gained, he had lost the sun, left to see the light only from afar, his memories of its warmth nowhere near enough.

You had happily joined him in the night as you set out to cure him of his condition, but like anyone, Astarion still had bad days.

You had figured it was going to be a less good day when you had woken up in the middle of the day, your body sensing the absence of his next to yours. Drowsily opening your eyes, you easily spotted your silver-haired partner sitting at the edge of the bed, staring silently at a rectangle of light shining through a small slit between the curtains you had closed when you had first entered the room at the inn, as you always did.

You closed your eyes again, allowing Astarion his moment, knowing that you fussing over him every time would only make things worse. Instead, as you allowed yourself to fall back to sleep, you decided to do something to make tonight as exciting as you could to help give the vampire an escape from his losses.

When you woke next, Astarion was next to you in bed, his meditative pose telling you he was actually asleep. You stared at his peaceful resting face for a long moment before turning your focus to those still-closed curtains, the shade of the barely-visible sliver of light telling you that it was at least midday.

Setting about your pseudo-morning routine, you began to brainstorm a solid plan to distract Astarion from his ongoing plight.

He was likely starving for blood, you knew that much. Without a power-hungry cult looming constantly over your heads, there were much less fights to be had in cities that didn’t result in legal consequences, and you could only safely let him feed from you so often without risking your health. And without Withers around, you couldn’t risk your life quite as stupidly as you had before.

But it had been over a week since Astarion had last had your blood, and you had been considering finding a bandit camp or seeking out some wild animals just to get his mood up when an idea struck you.

It was perhaps a bit sooner than the two-week timeline you had both agreed on between larger blood donations, but you found yourself ensorcelled by the idea of putting on a little hunt for him, just with you as the prey this time. A little test of his instincts as it were, keeping your real reasoning close to your chest, not wanting him to think you were pitying him. And what was a little anemia if it was in the name of cheering up your beloved?

You were sitting at the small wooden desk in the room, itemizing your carefully-hoarded spell scrolls when Astarion came out of his trance, leaning down beside you before you realized he was even awake.

“You’re up early,” he remarked curiously, and you froze up in surprise, doing your best not to look like you had been caught in the act, casually reaching to hide your scroll of disguise self under a more conspicuous hypnotic pattern. “Now what could be so important that you decided to deprive me the pleasure of waking up next to my love?”

You shuffled your scrolls and maps into a messy pile, aware of how his sharp gaze followed the action with suspicion.

Turning from your papers to meet his eyes, you did your best to look innocuous. “I was thinking we could do something different today.”

“Oh?” Astarion’s face lit up with intrigue. “And here I thought I’d be in for yet another day of rifling through dusty old tomes written by dusty old men who haven’t even met a vampire, let alone possessed any useful information about one.”

You let out a huff of laughter, equally aware of the bad information streak you had been on for the last month, the most useful information coming from a thoroughly depraved romantic vampire novel that Astarion had found significantly too much enjoyment in reading out to you whenever he had gotten bored of reading whatever vampiric history tome he had discarded when its contents proved valueless.

“I was thinking–”

It was probably to your benefit that Astarion leaned in to kiss you, cutting off the sentence you hadn’t quite figured out how to phrase. The kiss was chaste, the smug vampire pulling back with a smirk, clearly enjoying having caught you off guard.

“You were saying, love?” he teased lowly, and you willed yourself not to fall for his distractions like you usually did.

“I was thinking we could go on a hunt today,” you said at last, Astarion raising an eyebrow in response.

“You know I always relish the chance for some meaningless violence, but why all of a sudden?” he asked, always way too perceptive for your own good. “What’s the hunt? It had better not be another cluster of ooze. It took me far too long to remove their slobber from my weapons the last time I had the misfortune of stabbing one.”

“No, no ooze,” you dismissed with a laugh. It wasn’t like you had wanted to do that job either, but it had gotten you the funds to pay for your last three inn stays. Summoning up your courage, you tried your best to not look as embarrassed as you felt. “I was thinking this time you could hunt… me.”

Astarion’s eyes glinted noticeably as he leaned in towards you, a hand resting on either armrest of your chair, his arms caging you in. “Am I to take this as a request of a more carnal nature? Because I am very willing to oblige.”

His voice was dripping with quiet ardor, the cheeky vampire using the tone he knew would lure you into bed with him every time, but not this time. You wanted something that would catch him off guard entirely, leaving no room in any part of his mind for his latent sadness to set in today. There would be plenty of time for sex later, once he had been fed.

“I was thinking more along bloodier lines,” you said, Astarion’s resulting frown at his seduction attempt failing more than a little cute. “I know we agreed to every two weeks, but I do have that vibrancy potion I’ve been saving.”

Astarion leaned back out of your space, looking quizzical, but not unhappy, so you took that as a sign to continue.

“Since this is a special occasion, I thought it might be fun to make you work for it,” you said with a conspiratorial smile. “Neither of us have been to this city before, so we’re on an even playing field. I was thinking if you can find me by sunrise, my blood is yours. As much as you want, since the effects of the vibrancy potion will last until then. If you can find me, that is.”

Astarion grinned wide, his pristine white fangs on full display. “Oh darling, I hadn’t taken you as someone who makes gambles they haven’t a hope of winning.”

You felt a flare of competition spark within you at his surety that he would win. Just because this was supposed to end with your blood on his teeth didn’t mean you were going to make this easy for him.

“If you’re so sure you’ll win, then maybe I’ll set off now and get a head start,” you shot back teasingly, reaching into your bag on the floor and downing the small vial of forest green vibrancy potion in one go before standing up, licking the last stray drop from the corner of your mouth to make sure the potion had maximum effectiveness.

Astarion’s eyes closed as he took a long inhale, which told you that the potion was indeed working as intended. When his eyes opened again, his pupils were blown wide, looking every bit the vampire ready for a hunt.

“Your blood smells even sweeter than the first time,” he spoke in a strained voice, posture so rigid he looked like he might snap if you moved an inch closer to him. “If I wasn’t such an honorable vampire, I’d already have you.”

Keeping any comments regarding his honor to yourself, you lifted your bag, sweeping the papers on the desk into it before slinging it over your shoulder, heading all the way to the door before turning your head back to face the shirtless, sleepy-haired vampire with a teasing smile.

“Good luck, Astarion,” you told him. Knowing how desperate for blood he had been the first time, he had to struggling even harder than he looked to be holding himself back right now.

“I don’t need luck,” he replied smoothly, sitting back down on the bed, hands fisting tightly onto the sheets. “There is nowhere you could hide where I can’t find you, my love.”

His sultry tone made you flush, and you quickly fled the room, knowing you had to go now before your willpower gave out.

Emerging onto bustling early evening streets, you knew that you had until the sun fell to find a place to hide. Making your way down the main street, you made sure to stop and chat up a perfume salesman, accepting a heavy dose of one of their floral samples in the hope that it would disguise the smell of your blood to the hungry vampire that would be on your trail within the hour. Your scent taken care of, now there was just the manner of your appearance.

Stopping by a busy clothing store, you stood before a long mirror in a deserted corner of the store, pulling out your disguise self scroll and getting to work.

You left the store a purple-skinned tiefling with long ruby-red hair, clad in a skimpy black dress with a long slit up the thigh, gold jewelry accenting your neck and illusory horns. If Astarion was looking for a disguise, you doubted he would think you would take on such a gaudy one, the stares of people as you passed telling you that you definitely looked the part of a lady of the night.

The sun had begun to fall as you walked the streets, intending on getting a decent distance away from the inn before finding somewhere to hole up when the dark set in. There was no doubt that Astarion would have the advantage in the dark, so you had to be as well-hidden as possible by then.

It felt too much like cheating to set up in a noisy tavern, though it wasn’t exactly like you had set any concrete rules before setting out, but still, you dismissed the fleeting idea. You wanted to make this hard for Astarion, not impossible. You didn’t often have enough gold for vibrancy potions anymore, so you wanted to make this one count, but Astarion would have to earn it first.

You had your momentary doubts that he would even agree to your proposal, given he had his moods sometimes, but his reaction had surpassed even your most hopeful expectations. You knew he wouldn’t be holding back, and you would hate yourself if you didn’t at least put up a fight.

You stopped to feign interest in a group of dragonborn musicians playing in a park as you considered your options further. You could cast a hypnotic pattern and pretend to be captivated by it as well? But you couldn’t sustain that one for long, and there was no telling when Astarion would pass by here. You could blur yourself, but that was likely to end up attracting his attention rather than evading it.

Lost in your thoughts, you took altogether too long to realize the passing of time, coming to the sudden realization that the sun was now just the tiniest sliver in the horizon. Astarion was definitely out by now, who knows for how long while you were zoning out.

You followed the crowd’s lead, clapping for the performers as you took subtle glances around you, not seeing any silver hair in the area. Still, you had wasted too much time here. You needed to move.

With most people in the park distracted by the performance, you were easily able to misty step your way across the park, exiting into what looked to be a district of… lesser repute. Here, there were women and men dressed in less than you were, hanging outside gaudy establishments and trying to draw customers in. You were just passing by a gnome and a scantily-clad human making out so loudly that you briefly wondered if either of them had ever kissed anyone now before when you ran into an issue.

“Haven’t seen yer sweet ass ‘round here before,” a male voice slurred, a large half-orc stepping into your view, or rather completely blocking it with his bulk.

“Excuse me,” you spoke flatly, immediately on guard. You moved to walk around him, but this only seemed to egg him on, as he moved in turn to step to the side and continue blocking your way.

“Ain’t no tieflings at tha bars, not anymore,” he spoke angrily, waving his arms wildly around as he talked, large axe glinting from its place on his back. “It ain’t the same when those other broads ain’t got no horns to grab while I plow ‘em!”

You could easily discern the reason why tiefling women seemed to become scarce around him, regretting that your choice of disguise had now led to this unexpected issue. You wouldn’t want to talk to this creep on a normal day, but you really didn’t have time now. You weren’t sure if your ego would survive being caught by Astarion less than an hour after the hunt had begun.

While you were confident that your disguise was flawless, the half-orc was being so loud that you would catch anyone’s attention right now. Looking around, you noticed the eyes of many of the seedy crowd were on you, but as expected, nobody was stepping in to help you, clearly wary of attracting the wrath of the drunk brute.

Sighing internally, you resolved to yourself to give this guy one more chance to leave you alone before you made him. What a mess you had managed to find yourself in.

“I’m not interested,” you said, not intimidated in the slightest by the half-orc who was at least a head taller than you. “I’m asking you nicely to walk away.”

The half-orc scoffed loudly, making a show of looking around, the onlookers all averting their gazes, not wanting to be involved, their eyes shifting back to you when the brute finished his overdramatic display before turning back to you with a cocked brow.

“Well I don’t see no man here ta claim ya,” he boasted loudly. “And Barorth don’t recognize no other claims on the womens he wants anyway!”

He would probably have been luckier if Astarion was here, the snarky vampire possibly content to mock the half-orc without him realizing rather than what you were going to do to him if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Not interested,” you repeated flatly, deathly intent plain in your voice, at least plain to anyone but this moron, who instead reached out to take one of your arms in his grasp.

“‘Nuff talkin’,” he grunted, hand clamping down on your arm. “Those tits are just–”

The second he touched you, you blinked, immediately activating eyebite, your eyes turning into teeth-ringed pools of black.

“Go,” you snarled at the half-orc, his grip falling from your arm instantly, an all-too-loud guttural groan leaving his mouth before he turned and ran. You didn’t dismiss eyebite until he was out of sight, glaring after him the entire way.

Taking a breath to calm yourself down, you blinked and your regular eyes returned. How much time had you wasted on that moron? He was lucky all you did was traumatize him, the brute likely to have suffered a much worse fate if it was Lae’zel he was hitting on. Hopefully he would leave any real tieflings alone after your little display.

Frustrated, you moved to the less busy side of the street, ignoring the people there who now stared at you in shock. You were far enough from Baldur’s Gate that very few people would recognize you even if you had your real appearance, but there was definitely going to be gossip spreading now about the tiefling escort that sent a half-orc running away with just a look.

And then you were striding past an alleyway, intent on figuring out your next move, when a hand darted out, clasping firmly around your wrist and pulling you into the alleyway, finding yourself quickly pinned to the stone wall by your assailant’s body.

Amused red eyes stared down at you, Astarion running one hand down your side to rest on your hip. “One hour and you’re already finding your way into trouble without me. Darling, I’m hurt.”

You knew he had you, despite your feigned appearance, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to give in so easily.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed with very false confidence. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to–”

“Spare me,” he dismissed. “Did you really think you could hide from me in plain sight when I know your scent, your taste so… intimately?”

You wanted to protest further, but any words you were going to say turned into a pleased sigh as Astarion leaned in to kiss at your neck.

“You do make a rather fetching tiefling, my love, but I do think I prefer the you that I wake up next to every morning,” he spoke against your neck.

You smiled despite yourself, finally giving in and allowing the disguise to drop, Astarion holding you to him tighter in response, but his fangs still hadn’t made their way into your neck. The smell of your blood had to have been driving him crazy, he had said as much earlier, so then why hadn’t he claimed his reward yet?

“You win,” you conceded, unable to stay mad with your beloved so close to you, even in the dingy alleyway whose prior inhabitants had likely been either a murder or a messy hookup. “My blood is yours.”

At your words, Astarion pulled back from your neck entirely, further confusing you. Noticing your questioning look, he gestured out to the street, where some onlookers were barely visible, but their attention at least seemed to be on their own business now.

“I won’t be playing the part of the heinous vampire attacking the fair maiden and risking some do-gooder rushing to your rescue with a stake meant for my heart,” he explained disdainfully. “No, I think my prize would be better savored in a more private location.”

You could still see just how bad his hunger was getting to him, so it was obvious that you weren’t making it back to the inn. Looking out over his shoulder, you spotted a private enough looking rooftop several stories above some seedy-looking bar, placing your hand on Astarion’s arm as you summoned a dimension door.

“Good enough?” you asked, drawing Astarion’s gaze to the matching door waiting on the roof.

“Not quite the caliber of the Blushing Mermaid, but I can hardly be choosey when it means I get more of your delectable blood,” he answered.

That was as much of a yes as you figured you were getting out of him, and so you activated the door and found yourselves instantly transported to the actually-not-too-bad-looking rooftop.

It was barren, but clean. Seemed like nobody really came up here, as all that was on the roof were a couple ratty-looking chairs and a large rug that looked like it would be worth some money if it weren’t for a large stain on one corner that was either blood or red wine.

Stepping away before Astarion could get too carried away, you rummaged quickly through your bag, pulling out one of the many arcane lock scrolls you knew to keep on hand for situations like this, sealing the door so you wouldn’t be interrupted. Job done, you went to turn back around, not wanting to keep the vampire waiting.

“Well, I think we’re—”

Astarion was way closer than you expected, having silently closed the gap between you while your back was turned.

Shaking off your momentary surprise, you smiled at him, turning your head and pulling your hair back so your neck was left bared for him to drink from. So you were caught off guard when he instead backed you up against the door, caging you in with his body and catching your mouth with his own.

While you were confused, you weren’t opposed, your eyes sliding closed and arms coming up to rest against his chest, the gentle buzzing of the magical lock against your back all but forgotten at the things Astarion’s tongue was doing to your own.

You were having a hard time telling if he was actually this turned on, or if he had just turned his switch on, as much as you had tried to break him of the habit of feeling like he had to perform sexually if he wasn’t feeling it. Recognizing you should probably make that discernment now, you pulled back from the kiss, Astarion’s lips shifting to kiss at your neck.

“It’s okay if this is just for blood,” you spoke, trying to keep your voice steady despite Astarion suckling on a particularly sensitive spot. “You don’t owe me anything for my blood if you don’t want to.”

Astarion pulled back from your neck at last, no bites taken, instead reaching a hand down to take your leg in his grasp, pulling it around one hip and using the opportunity to grind his clearly hard cock into you, the resulting feeling fluttering your lashes as you tried desperately to focus on the seriousness you were trying to inject into the moment.

Astarion saw your serious expression and only smiled, a small little smile so unlike the openly flirtatious ones he used to send your way back when you had first explored each other’s bodies.

“Trust me darling, you mean far too much to me to ever treat you like you’re a favor to be traded in,” he spoke quietly, hips still rolling into yours as he spoke. “You’ve given me too much to ever be repaid. But no need to fret, my reasons for wanting your body now are just my own selfish lust.”

He didn’t need any words from you to know he had you, one broken moan at his hips rutting perfectly against yours enough of a response for him to return to your mouth, one hand sliding under your dress to press firmly on your clit as you kissed fervently, doing your best to keep up with his tongue as you felt warm enough for the both of you even on the chilly rooftop.

The greedy vampire could only go so long without claiming his reward, mouth moving to your neck the second he felt you getting close, sinking his teeth into you at last as he barraged your clit with attention, the twin sensations of blood loss and orgasm feeding off each other in beautiful harmony, Astarion prolonging your peak with his talented fingers as he drank from your neck until you laid boneless against him, panting above his head.

“I love you,” you breathed, Astarion breaking from your neck to return the sentiment with a bloodstained smile.

And then it was your turn, pulling him to your mouth and grinding up into him, the vampire’s own panting breaths loud against your mouth. Astarion moved his hips back into yours, his pace nothing like the practiced, even rhythm he’d had back when he was playing the part of what he had thought you would like. His groans now were entirely his body’s reaction to yours, and the thought burned deeply in your core.

Neither one of you content to keep things going with clothes still on, your hands moved to the clasp holding your flimsy dress together, while Astarion smoothly discarded his own pants, his hands then coming back to maneuver you onto your back on the non-stained section of the rooftop rug, your dress splayed out under you helping to guard against the slightly rough texture of the rug.

“This is a sight I will never tire of,” Astarion groaned, ripping his shirt up over his head, his underwear following and leaving him entirely bare to your wanting gaze.

He looked every bit the vampiric seductor in that horrible novel he liked to bother you with, red eyes and bloody mouth gleaming in the sparse light the rising moon provided.

You watched his expression spark with debauched pleasure as it was plainly obvious how wet you were as he practically peeled your underwear from you, one hand returning to work at your clit, his own cock looking so hard that it must hurt.

“Astarion, please,” you begged, reaching out for him, your lover effortlessly evading your grasp as he worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

“Not yet, my love,” he chided lowly, knowing you could do little to resist his efforts right now. “I rather enjoy getting you so worked up. I could spend hours listening to your pretty cries as I bring you over the edge again and again, but I suppose that potion is only good until sunup, and I am so hungry.”

“Then come here,” you prompted, already feeling clearheaded from the vibrancy potion rejuvenating your blood supply so quickly.

“How could I refuse?” he replied happily, slotting himself between your legs.

Wrapping your legs around his back, you pulled him down, the vampire smoothly lining his cock perfectly to hit deep inside you as you pulled his mouth to your neck.

“You are too perfect,” Astarion murmured against your neck before biting down.

You decided it was better for you to start strong while you still had the blood supply to energize you, using your legs around his hips to start a slow but deep rhythm. Astarion needed very little coaxing to keep up, one hand coming up to angle one of your legs higher, the resulting shift making you cry out as he started to hit against a spot inside you that only he had ever been able to find.

You had always prided yourself on being the talker of your little group, able to talk your way in or out of trouble when needed. But here, under the snarky vampire you had come to cherish more than anything, you were wordless, barely able to manage more than his name as Astarion moved his focus from your neck to thoroughly ruin you, blood-red smirk telling you he knew exactly what he was doing with every grind of his hips.

It took almost embarrassingly no time for you to finish again, Astarion’s keen senses picking up on it immediately without you having to say a word.

“I do so like to see you like this, darling,” he said, slowly his pace down as you came down from it. “So thoroughly ravaged that you couldn’t recite a spell if you tried.”

You knew that he wasn’t unaffected, the slow roll of his hips telling you that much, but you found yourself determined to exhaust him just as badly, a tall order for someone of his stamina, but you were going to try your best.

With as much grace as you could manage with legs that felt like jelly, you withdrew from under him, pushing him back so he was sitting back, staring at you with loving eyes more black than red as you climbed onto his lap, settling back down on his cock, intent on riding him until he lost himself.

Astarion’s hands quickly found the back fastenings of your bra, unhooking it with a satisfied growl and tossing the garment aside, allowing him access to lean down and lave kisses and bites across your chest as you continued to ride him hard.

You were slamming your hips into his now, running a hand through his hair, his increasingly loud groans of your name telling you that he was finally getting close. With a shuddered breath, his hands went down to your hips, holding you still against him as he came, teeth sinking into your neck once again in tandem.

You slowly stroked his hair, in no rush to free yourself from his embrace, even as you could feel stray droplets of blood running down your neck and onto your chest.

With a pleased sigh, Astarion’s hands went from your hips to around your back, pulling back from your neck to see you smiling at him, the sight sending him leaning forward to kiss you, his peaceful expression one you could look at forever and never get tired of.

“Here I was thinking all I had to thank that grotesque nautiloid for was my freedom,” he mused between kisses. “If it hadn’t found you too, I’d probably be dead, hunted by that gur and delivered to my death. Never thought I’d be so grateful to a damn illithid for plucking me off the street.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “This makes even the whole parasite insertion thing worth it, if I get to be here like this with you.”

“How sweet,” he huffed in response. “I however could have done without Gale’s lectures on morality. And Lae’zel’s snoring.”

“And the Withers lecture about how you were distracting me from my quest,” you added with a laugh, recalling the at-the-time awkward talk with the skeletal man the morning after you and Astarion had first slept together.

“I don’t know about that, my dear,” Astarion replied slyly. “You did seem a touch distracted after that first night. I recall you stepping on several fire mines that Shadowheart had warned us of not five minutes before. Hard to blame you though, I mean really, just look at me.”

“Having fun?” you sulked, pulling back from him to cross your arms across your chest, trying to appear annoyed but fully aware your point was not well made considering he was still inside of you.

Astarion didn’t let you get far, arms pulling you back in. “Not so fast, my love. As I recall, my reward was to last until sunrise, and I intend to reap it in full.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #reader is tav #tav is a sorcerer #can be read as human/elf/half-elf #smut #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate astarion #reader insert

[jun-of-love]

kiss cam - lee seokmin

summary: an extra ticket. a pathetic stranger. a kiss cam. what could possibly go wrong?

tw: none

words: 1.7k

genre: fluff

pairing: yn × dokyeom

a/n: dk is the cutest most precious talented man ever- i was overwhelmed with his sunshine and spontaneously came up with this. hope you like it :)

It’s been a month or so.

A month since you saw your ex, who was once the light of your life, soundly sleeping in some other girl’s arms, butt naked at that. You grimace as the scene plays out in your head again, making you feel the same way it did the first time it happened. You had immediately cut off all contact from him to the point that you had moved to a new place, just so that he didn’t have any access to you. You wanted to see him grovel and beg for your forgiveness, or at least take excruciating revenge for wasting two years of your life, but you let it all go for your own peace and self-respect. All of these drastic measures, yet your stupid heart mourned the absence of the heartless man.

You looked the tickets on your table. You had gone through hoops to get a hold of them, the key to the best seats possible for the finals of the Ice Hockey tournament. While you personally had no interest in the game, your ex was super into the niche sport- the tickets were supposed to be his early birthday gift. You shook your head, trying to get out of the sobby mood. So what if he wasn’t here? You went above and beyond for these tickets, and you will have the best possible experience of the game anyone can have!

Easier said than done, you thought, as your loneliness pinched more with every couple or big group of friends passed by you. They didn’t have the best seats like you did, but they were surely going to have the best time with their friends and partners. You were seriously contemplating giving away the tickets and going home when you heard exasperated yelling by the ticket verification stand. It seemed like a man was throwing a tantrum, and the authorities were close to calling the security on him. The man turned away angrily, sniffling and wiping his tears.

You carefully approached the man, partly because you intrigued by his condition, and partly because he was hot. Everyone knows that stranger danger reduces by 30 percent if the stranger is hot. 50 percent if he is smoking hot.

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

The man looked at you. Even with his tearful eyes and runny nose, he had a certain charm about him. The kind that made you want to hug him till he felt okay. Pathetic charm, if you will.

“I got scammed. The agent I bought the tickets from sold me fake tickets and I’m obviously not able to reach him now-” He put his head in his hands. “I really wanted to watch this game, it’s the last game my favorite player is going to play before he retires.”

You take a look at his jersey. He supported the same team you were planning to root for- mainly due to the reason because that is the one that played opposite to your ex’s favorite team. You eyed the two tickets in your purse, feeling a flutter in your stomach- you might not have all that a terrible time today.

“You want to accompany me? I have an extra ticket.” You asked him, already knowing his answer.

“Are you joking right now? Are you another scammer? Please, I don’t have any money left, please don’t play with my feelings.” He seems so innocent; you resist the urge to pull his cheeks.

“I don’t know, do scammers give away tickets for free?” You say cockily, clearly enjoying this too much.

“For free?!?!?!!?” His eyes almost fell out of their sockets. “Why would you do that!?”

“Because I bought these tickets to watch the game with my boyfriend, but he decided to cheat on me and now he’s my ex and I’m at this game alone with an extra ticket in my hand.” You offer him the ticket, “do you mind being my date for tonight?”

“Date?” He asks, his eyes round and expressions eerily similar to a cute puppy.

“You know what I mean!” You cleared your throat. “Anyway, yes or no?”

“YES!”

The entire time you took to reach your seats, your date did not stop talking for even a minute. By now, you knew that he came from a family of four, his best friends were called Jeonghan and Mingyu, none of them had any interest in this sport which is why he was alone. He was not shy around people (evidently so) and his favourite colour was green. It did not get boring though, for some reason. It just made you want to know more about him.

Once you were settled in your seats, you decide to disturb your date from his awe of the view, “You never told me your name.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m Seokmin. You can also call me Dokyeom.” Seokmin flashes a smile that could soothe a crying baby.

“Why would I call you Dokyeom if your name is Seokmin?”

“It’s actually because my mom and my dad had differ-”

“Never mind, hello, my name is y/n.” You put your hand forward. “Nice to meet you.”

Seokmin smiles again, shaking your hand. You didn’t know the standard time duration of a handshake, but you were sure yours was taking a bit too long. You shyly remove your hand from his, and ask the most embarrassing question of the night, ”So before the game starts, can you tell me a little about the team we’re supporting right now? I know nothing.” You bite your lip, hoping he wouldn’t take offence at the statement.

Seokmin laughs a little, “I will try to let you know as much as possible, but feel free to ask questions even during the game if you want. I like to share my interests, you know.” And off he went, about the players and their positions, and who played the best and who was the weakest and his favorite player who was retiring- and you had to fight yourself to pay attention because all your damn mind could think of at the moment was how kissable his lips are and how endearing he looked with all his excitement. A month without any action and you were already losing your marbles. You nod along with him until the horn goes off signaling the beginning of the match. Seokmin jumps up at the sight of the players and cheers for them, leaving you to wonder how a person can store so much excitement in them.

Gradually, you started getting into it. The complicated sport seemed so easy now, almost too easy. You knew which players were reliable, and you found one or two that you would root for. Everyone around you felt like your childhood friends, cheering for your favourite team. You look at Seokmin, who shook your arm every time something exciting happened in the game, its been an hour since you both had been acquainted, and his wide smile had not budged even for a second. You feel warmth in your heart as you realize, you were having so much fun.

For the first time in thirty days, you were not moping around or crying, but actually smiling, ear to ear at that. Enthusiasm had to be contagious, because if not, why were you yelling at the top of your voice, clapping till your arms hurt and high fiving everyone around you? Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was his beautiful smile, you felt a special fondness towards Seokmin, the kind that made you blush every time he grabbed your hand.

It was the intermission, and both of you were relatively relaxed since your team had been doing pretty well. You were explaining your exact job description to him, since he seemed so curious about everything in your life. Almost like it was his life’s mission to write a biography on you by the end of those three hours. You just noticed how he still hadn’t let go of your hand, when you were interrupted by loud audience cheers; it was the crowd’s favorite pastime: the Kiss Cam.

Personally, you loved things like these. You loved how couples were caught off-guard with their faces on the screen, and then continued to have their own little moment. Embarrassingly enough, you had pictured yourself getting proposed (by your snake of an ex) on one of such instances, where the kiss cam would focus on you both and then he would pull out a ring and-

A particularly loud cheer from people around you woke you up from your thoughts. A part of your imagination had come to life- you were indeed on the kiss cam screen. With Seokmin at that. You both meet eyes and you feel awkwardness seizing every nerve of yours. While he is busy calming down the crowd with hands, making the ‘X’ gesture and shaking his head politely, you wonder if this was an opportunity to do what you had been wishing to do all this time. As the crowds’ cheers of “Kiss him! Kiss him!” get louder (have people always been so nosy?), you grab him by his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Can I kiss you?”

He smiles softly, putting his warm hand on your neck, “I was hoping you’d ask.”

He closes the gap between you two by putting his lips on yours, pulling you in by the back of the neck. You could hear the crowd react, but you didn’t care- your senses were overloaded by his expensive perfume and how good his lips felt on yours. You deepened the kiss, your hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He puts an arm around your waist, pulling you closer than possible. His body feels hot and perfect to yours it feels to good to be true. That is until a middle-aged woman coughed loudly behind you, forcing both of you to pull away.

People were now minding their own business, looking put off even, by the overboard of affection portrayed by you. These were the same people that put you in that spot in the first place, you scoffed at the thought. You turned to Seokmin, who was already looking at you with the most doe-eyed gaze possible. You giggle, “What is it? What do you want to say?”

“Would you go out on a date with me? Like officially?” He bites his lips, as if he doesn’t know the obvious answer.

“Sure,” you smile cockily, “but you’re paying.”

“I’ll pay for every date ever if it means I get to kiss you again.”

#charity-writes #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #kpop seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen reactions #seventeen fics #seventeen fluff #lee seokmin #dokyeom #seventeen dk #dk #choi seungcheol #boo seungkwan #moon junhui #jeonghan #scoups #hoshi #yoon jeonghan #hong jisoo #joshua hong #dokyeom x y/n #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom fic #svt #seokmin #svt dk #mingyu #kim mingyu

[nexusnyx]

This is for your sleepover. I am just being a menace knowing what this prompt could cause. I am requesting a fic. Work at all your leisure.

So it is a request for a Dark! King Caspian. Prompts

"i thought i could trust you." "and whose fault is that?"

their breath hitching whenever the other gets a little closer

Maybe if you would like some background

Reader was Caspian's friend that has helped him even after everyone has told them he was a lost cause. But Reader is in love and keeping it from him. But that's just a suggestion you work your own magic.

Okay, we spoke about this and I told you what people have no clue about, but Prince Caspian was my first fictional boyfriend. My first man. I haven't written him in ages and this might genuinely tingle parts of my brain that were long forgotten, but I can't wait. Here we go, Ellie. — main masterlist | 🏷️: Dark!King Caspian, life-long best friends, friends to enemies to lovers to 'friends', pining, mentions of smut, unresolved sexual tension; [WC: 1.4k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ i was never there ꒱

Peace among the Telmarine Kingdoms came at high prices that one but he, the King, was ready to speak for or own up to. It came at the cost of what sometimes felt like his soul if he still believed in those.

Most of the time, you stood by his side as Caspian chose whatever he must.

As his Counselor, you knew what no one else in the world did.

As his friend, you saw what even Caspian himself tried to hide. And as his lover... well—that part was long gone. But you remembered it. What it was like, having the pieces of him that reminded you of the Caspian that once was. Having the pieces of the King, who reminded you of who you kept falling for. Being trapped by.

Caspian won you back by saying Narnia would collapse without you.

Back then, a couple of years ago, he went into the woods in search of you after the fallout you two had and whispered the words you longed to hear for a long time. "I can't do this without you. Come back to me. You know it's different with us—you know... it's us."

“I’ll come back under one condition.”

“Anything.” The way Caspian uttered words changed after he became King. After power dripped off his shoulders as if his cloaks and clothes carried magic unknown by everyone else.

“It’ll be different. I’m not—your Consort.” The way you spit out the word carried your shame, the memories, and his taste. “Don’t turn me into one. Not again.”

Instead of nodding along, Caspian took his time before answering. He looked around your tent, looked you up and down as if searching for the answer in your body — as he had many times before — and then, after tense seconds of silence, he nodded, solemn. “I won’t.”

You knew the roundtable were still in talks to marry him to Ramandu’s daughter. Two years of absence and that was yet to change.

Caspian’s stubbornness was as iconic as his sword.

But if he would marry her—and he would, for there was no doubt about the best choice for Narnia’s King, then you would stay clear of his chambers.

“You’ll advise me. Go back to your place by my side.” He spoke in absolutes, and it made you remember that now, you had to look straight into his eyes when he spoke, and not the curve of his lips. Not the dark feathers surrounding his neck, or the secrets he hid in the corner of his mouth.

“So it is.”

It lasted months.

Months of Caspian showing you how much he had changed — so much power, how could one being carry so much power within them — and yet, how much he was still the same. The sudden bursts of playfulness when the two of you were alone in the private gardens of the castle. The knowing looks and entire conversations he was able to carry with you over people’s heads in balls, meetings, encounters. All of that, and the sizzling, almost-alive energy that you two generated when you got too close.

That went nowhere.

“Where did you go?” He asked you in rose garden once. You two had practiced the shortsword together long enough to be dripping in sweat, so you sat under a willow tree and watched as Caspian laid his body by your feet, resting his head on his hand. “None of my soldiers could find you for too long.”

“Narnia is a big place,” you answered. Being difficult with him was a pastime you never grew out of.

Caspian rolled his eyes. “I’m happy your time away in mysterious place never robbed you of your difficultness.”

“How could it? I was born with it.”

Caspian smiled. One of those rare and gorgeous smiles. “I said that when I was a teenager. Will you ever let it go?”

“Never.” That memory was etched into you. Tattooed on the walls of your brain, along with the first kiss of his lips on yours that followed those words.

The air sizzled slightly, and you knew the topic etched too close to dangerous waters.

“And you—did you learn anything about battling with more than one weapon or are we done here?”

It was good enough of a distraction.

The battlefield became your only escapade. The only place you two could be near each other, close, touching, and the hitches on your breath or soft gasps that escaped your lips could be passed by something else other than it was.

A storm, brewing in the distance.

He’d promised you that he’d keep his distance. Caspian promised to respect your wished, but Caspian lied before.

A few days after that, and he brings you back to where you were before running away. 

Harvest festivals were a time of drunkenness, stupidity, accidents.

As his Counselor and one of his first Knights, it meant hours of boring work—being one of the few sober people in a castle full of drunks and high folks was not only tiresome, it was annoying.

When he comes to you offering a glass of — you check with your nose, humming along — absinthe, and his pipe, you think, at least this. At least a little bit of peace.

You two talk for a while. Hushed tones, poised faces. People pass by and greet, sometimes stopping to try and participate, but as always, they feel left out after a while. Nothing and no one can quite keep your pace—you and Caspian developed your own rhythm years ago, and that only worsened with the years.

When he asks to go up to the meeting room, it’s past the peak of night. It must be only a few hours before sunrise, and you think—’the guards can finish this’. So you go up. 

Conversation about the trip to Poppy Fields is so good that you almost miss it.

His eyes on you, heavy and meaningful. The long sips he takes of his glass, and how his voice lowers.

When you do register, it’s because of proximity. You’re standing in front of his bookshelf, checking the new addition titles he acquired in your absence, and then, his presence covers your back like a dark cloud.

You shiver, breath hitching once again. Caspian’s close. Too close for a conversation, and the silence that comes with it makes it known for the both of you.

This proximity’s dangerous, and it makes a knot climb up your throat. 

He’d promised.

Frozen, you stand there in silence, your words forgotten and the topic of the conversation unknown to you, carried away by the wind. All you can feel is how his chest is only a couple of inches away. He removed his cloak, leaving only his white blousy tucked in his pants, and know what he looks like without taking a glance back.

“You promised me.” It comes out as a sad, choked whisper.

He knows you’re too weak to ever want to push him away. “I did.” He sounds surprised. Not at breaking his promise, but that he did one in the first place. Caspian’s hands find your waist, and they might as well be balls of fire for the way they burn through your clothes, warming the skin under. “I tried.”

He had. Both of you had, you knew.

"I thought I could trust you." To try harder. To keep your promise.

Caspian chuckles at that, dark and low. His face inches closer, his lips ghosting over your ear in that way he knows makes you weak— "And whose fault is that?" With those words, he pulls your body flushed against his, and then brings his lips to your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses that goes from under your ear to the column of your throat.

Caspian lied before, but never to you.

But then again, if you thought about it, he had promised long ago that he would never hide what he really feels for you. He promised that first.

You spin around in his arms when Caspian’s teeth sink against you, and bury your moan in his mouth, surrending entirely to the ocean of him and everything you missed. You’re shaking, hands trembling and chest panting, but so is he.

Neither of you will make past the table this first time, but this table had seen your naked body before, and it had seen its King falling apart by your hands.

This was your fault. And his. And you two were guilty, willingly, together. Over and over again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌

#caspian x peter #prince caspian x you #prince caspian smut #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian imagine #prince caspian x y/n #prince caspian x f!reader #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fluff #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes fic #usernexusnyx #nyx10fireplace.ೃ࿐ #ben barnes x f!reader #ben barnes fanfic

[settingmyheartablaze]

somewhere along the lines, learning to love Kyojuro meant learning to love yourself.

It made your chest tight to think that some of his warmest smiles and the root of his deepest peace came from the product of your own well being.

It started with small things - you couldn’t help but notice the subtle swell of his chest when you slowly learned to take his complements to heart, instead of bashfully brushing them off. Seeing the pride he took in you made you carry yourself a bit taller, and you could sense his satisfaction.

Even in the more physical sense, he wasn’t able to complete his day without knowing that you were fed, bathed, and without a care in the world. On the days where you got carried away in the day to day tasks of the estate (that you had thrust upon yourself despite his many encouragements to rest) and maybe skipped a meal or two, he fussed like a hen (much to your dismay) until he saw with his own eyes that you had properly eaten. You always tried to dissuade Kyojuro, telling him it was silly to worry about you while he was off risking his life to the night. It wasn’t until you came down with a severe sickness, likely due to your own exhaustion, that you finally understood his fretful doting on you.

You had never seen him so anxious. You, not a stranger to falling ill due to your somewhat weaker disposition, had never imagined it would send your beloved into such a spiral. By your side every spare minute he had, he diligently assessed your condition, changed your rags, fed you homemade meals by hand, and touched you like you were made of glass. You knew him well enough to notice the shakes he hid behind the hand rested on your forehead as he checked your temperature. Even with the rapidly declining energy you had, you gave your all into giving him the warmest smiles and a mountain of murmured reassurances, seeing the dark thoughts he never dared to voice clouding over his eyes. You had known what happened to his mother, but you felt so foolish, selfish, and cruel to realize it took your bedridden state to understand why your well-being was his utmost priority. You weren’t sure he could handle another loss like that. You made a promise to yourself that day - a promise that from that moment forward, you would view yourself as precisely what you were to him - something precious and irreplaceable.

As you eventually recovered, largely due to kyojuro’s desperate and devoted care, you made sure to make good on the promise you made to yourself. You rested when you needed it, never missed a meal, and stopped teasing him for his coddling nature. Seeing the way his shoulders began to relax and the warm, peaceful aura radiating from your husband made you feel like a monster for ever depriving him of it in the first place. You could hear the sound, gentle rhythm of his heartbeat through his now uninterrupted sleep, and saw the tension ease a bit more each time he left for a mission, knowing you would be well taken care of in his absence.

Seeing the drastic improvement in his health and anxieties, you knew you would do anything to keep him that way. You laughed to yourself, thinking about how out of all the things you imagined when you thought of what you would do for love, the mirror was the last place you would have decided to look. It was then that you realized kyojuro was pure, unadulterated love.

A love that was so selfless it made you want to cry the moment you met his warm, adoring gaze.

you were his happiness, just as he was every bit of yours.

#demon slayer #kyojuro x reader #kny kyojuro #kny #kny headcanons #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #kyojuro fluff #rengoku fluff #angst with a happy ending

[pradnyesh1008]

Embark on a journey to the heart of Veridonia, an empire shrouded in tradition and mystique. The Golden Throne stands as the symbol of power, yet beneath its gilded exterior lies a realm of political intricacies and hidden secrets, waiting to be unveiled. In a world where politics, intrigue, and war are the norm, you must navigate your way through the complex web of alliances and enemies that surround you. This game is for those who love adventure, drama, and intrigue. It is a game where every decision matters and every outcome are different. It is a game where you can shape the fate of an empire and make history.

“Dive into the epic world of ‘The Golden Throne’ with its first book, ‘Crown of Conquest’. A journey you won’t forget!”

In the vast continent of Veridonia, a great empire stands on the brink of uncertainty. Emperor Varian III, the revered ruler who has led his empire with wisdom and strength for decades, finds himself facing a devastating reality.

As his health deteriorates, the absence of a suitable heir threatens to plunge the entire continent into chaos and ignite a destructive war between the kingdoms. Now, facing his own mortality, the emperor grapples with the realization that his thriving nation could crumble without a clear successor.

News of the Emperor’s failing health spreads like wildfire, reigniting ancient rivalries. The various kingdoms, each vying for power and control, sense an opportunity to assert their authority. Fear murmurs within the hearts of the people, and trepidation blankets the land.

Whispers of an impending civil war pervade the corridors of power, and tension begins to mount as rival factions strategize and secretly forge alliances in anticipation of the emperor’s demise. Drawing upon an elite advisory council, composed of trusted ministers, scholars, and military strategists, the emperor endeavours to explore all possible avenues to secure a peaceful transition of power.

Noble houses assert their claims to the throne, while whispers of treachery and deceit echo through the corridors of the imperial palace. A sense of urgency fills the air, as the emperor’s condition deteriorates, and time becomes the most precious commodity.

As the final days of the asserting claims and authority draw near, a solution begins to emerge from the chaos. King Aric, the king in the north, your/MC’s father, emerged victorious, chosen as the heir to the Golden Throne. In this epic tale of power, loyalty, and betrayal, will you succeed in helping your father preserving the legacy of his predecessor, or will Veridonia descend into a dark age of war and destruction? Are you ready to claim your destiny? Will you follow your father’s footsteps and become a worthy successor to the throne? Or will you carve your own path and challenge the established order? The fate of a continent hangs in the balance, and only time will tell. This is the thrilling saga of “Crown of Conquest”.

 A rich and immersive setting inspired by real medieval history, culture, and geography.

 A branching storyline with multiple endings and consequences based on your choices and actions.

 A customizable character with four different personality options and various traits that define your skills and abilities.

 A dynamic stat system that reflects your character’s growth and development throughout the game.

 A diverse cast of characters with their own backgrounds, motivations, and agendas.

 You can befriend, romance, or antagonize them depending on your choices.

 Violence and Gore: The game frequently depicts gory, brutal battles and graphic acts of violence.

 Frightening/Intense Scenes: There are many intense scenes that can be frightening for some readers.

 Graphic Deaths: Characters often meet violent, graphic ends.

 Torture Scenes: There are scenes depicting torture.

 Sexual Content: There will be many scenes with sexual acts.

 Dark Humor: The game contains dark humor, which may be unsettling or offensive to some viewers.

 Sadistic Behavior: Some characters exhibit sadistic behavior which can be disturbing.

 Substance Abuse: Characters are shown consuming alcohol excessively.

Demo:

Forum:

https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/wip-the-golden-throne-60k-words/142838/59

RO's

Male RO's

Female RO's

#if: the golden throne #if wip #if game #choice of games #interactive fiction #wip #interactive novel #demo #choice script #hosted games

[limehaspassed]

A Peaceful Reintroduction

to Normalcy

(Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader)

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬

In which you greet Thomas as he comes back from a long day at the slaughterhouse.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was always later on in the night that Thomas got home, his job holding him well beyond what they paid him. He was an honest butcher, a man who made his living by serving other people. It was a grueling and difficult job, disregarding the smell of the animals, the looks he got from others were the most effective when it came to fueling his embarrassment and shame, two emotions that would build into resentment as the years passed.

He would usually come home from work and take a shower, eat dinner, then head to bed. However, that was before, now, things were different, especially with the introduction of his newly wedded wife.

All that resentment Thomas would feel at the end of the day would be washed away the second his eyes ever laid upon her graceful figure. She was a beauty, a gem, in his life. Amidst all the muck and unsanitary conditions in which Thomas was forced to survive in, she was his cleanliness, his peacefulness, and his liveliness. She made his life worth living, she made his hours at the butcher house mean something because he was providing for a woman like none other.

“You can head on home now, Hewitt. The shop is closed for the day.” The head boss spoke in a laid back voice, the slightest hint of annoyance barely peeking through.

Thomas slammed his knife into the table, wedging it between that supple and soft wood. He turned around and faced the boss, giving nothing more than a disgruntled huff. He then took his turn and left the place, heading home to his wife who has been worrying over him all day long.

The road was long and the sun was blazing. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, around her smaller frame and hold her so close that he could smell that sweet perfume she always wore-an artifact she kept with her when she moved in. How he yearned for that moment, when his walk was done and he was met with her vibrant smile, that warm and endearing expression.

The sun only grew hotter as night began to fall, emitting as many rays of heat as it could before it quickly fell behind the horizon. The moon replaced the sun's absence, shining in a paler and cooler manner. Thomas liked it when the night would descend, he enjoyed watching the stars and the clouds move up within that vast sky. He would watch them so closely, it sometimes felt as if the stars were tickling his nose, absolutely buzzing with a gleeful joy.

“Tommy!” Her voice came from the distance the second he stepped foot into the front lawn. “Oh, Tommy, you’re home.” She cried with joy.

Thomas watched as she flew down the stairs and ran across the yard, jumping into his arms with a gleeful squeal. “Your home, my dear. I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve missed you all day. We’ve got so much to discuss, so many things to do.” She rambled, squeezing Thomas tightly against herself. She pulled away after a moment and reached a hand up towards his cheek, gently running her thumb over the textured skin.

“You know,” She started, her voice much calmer than before. “I love you, Thomas.”

Thomas nodded and leaned against her hand, an action that caused a smile to erupt on her face. She giggled and eventually pulled her hand away, replacing it with her lips, giving him a gentle kiss upon his cheek, masked in leather.

“How about we go inside and get you cleaned up. Then we can read a bit. I found a new book that I’ve been dying to read to you. You’ll love it for sure, my dear.” She explained, taking his hand and leading him inside.

Thomas simply followed, a lovestruck look on his face as he watched the girl walk before him, a bright smile ever so present on her beautiful face.

“I…love….you….”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading, loves 🖤

#fluff #thomas hewitt #gender nuetral reader #thomas hewitt x reader #slashers #thomas hewitt x you #texas chainsaw the beginning #slasher community #slashers x reader #slasher

[onyourowndaisymae]

Hello hello! :00 Could I request prompt #15 with Levi, Belphie, + Dia? Preferably with them being the one(s) saying it, if you can :)) I'm a sucker for works where reader is the comfortER rather than the comfortEE, and they are so hard to find, sob. (Ofc, that isn't to say that all three or any of them HAVE to be angsty!! You get the idea, pfft.)

"please don't go."

the earnest declaration startles you, breaking the string of silence that had existed for hours beforehand. you freeze in your spot. you had just stood up, assuming levi was too consumed by his game, and began to make your exit for the evening. this is how it often went-- you were free to come and go as you please, usually entering or departing with little fanfare. hence why his words surprised you.

you turned back over your shoulder and took a look at him. a good look at him. it's easy to miss the signs of levi's distress, seeing as he's always hiding in his room (and usually only illuminated by the glow of his aquarium and the flashing lights of whatever game he's currently playing). but you know him. you know him better than anyone.

his pallid complexion makes his dark undereyes stand out. the way his fingers wrap around the controller doesn't hide the raw skin around his fingers, pink and irritated from the nervous picking he's clearly been doing. and even the dim lighting can't disguise the dullness in his eyes as the avoid yours.

levi is going through something. you're a little ashamed that you didn't notice sooner, but you know you shouldn't blame yourself. he wouldn't want that. pain comes in waves, insecurity in storms-- his emotions can change in a matter of moments, sorrow piling on top of him only noted by a subtle shift in his expression. you're not a mind reader. what you are, though, is someone who cares. and that's what he needs right now.

you make your way back to the spot next to him, carefully slotting yourself in the chair next to him at his desk. he meets your gaze-- uncertain, almost wary-- and you take his face in your hands. your fingers brush away his bangs so you can press a soft kiss to his forehead.

"i'm right here, levi. i'm not going anywhere."

the attic is almost pitch black at this time of morning. the devildom sky barely shifts during "daylight", but usually streetlamps flicker on during waking hours enough to feel a difference. it's dawn now. the sky is a moody dark gray, clouds hanging low from your view out the attic window.

it's cold. even under all the blankets where you lay, a chill catches your skin and refuses to let go. you threw on a sweatshirt before bed, but even that couldn't protect you from the harsh devildom winter sneaking through the cracks of the house of lamentation. your fragile human body was not made to face this weather.

you peel yourself from under the covers and face the biting, stagnant air in your pajamas. belphie remains under the warmth of the covers. his breathing is soothing, like white noise, and just thinking about it makes you sleepy. but, try as you might, you can't fall back asleep when it's this cold. your body staunchly refuses to rest under these conditions. you pad quietly over to the door, careful to not wake the demon you've left behind. you're too late.

"please don't go." he murmurs against a pillow, so quietly that you almost miss it.

you turn around. it's early enough that his disillusioned mask has yet to set, leaving him vulnerable at the first sign of your absence. you haven't even made it out of the room yet.

"it's cold up here," you reply, the words coming out in a raspy whisper-yell. his only response is to lift the blankets at his side in invitation.

you scurry back into bed, this time tucked into belphie's side, drawn in by the promise of a few more hours of peace before your day begins. one of his arms holds you tight against his body-- he's a furnace, cranking out pleasurable heat you hadn't felt before you attempted to leave-- while the other takes care to pack the blankets in an impenetrable wall around you. you silently wonder if it's for comfort or to prevent you from sneaking off again. probably both.

you cuddle into his warm chest, content now with the conditions for your slumber. his quiet, steady breathing lulls you to sleep. a chill creeps over the devildom, but no longer does it keep you awake.

"i'm just distracting you."

"a welcome distraction!"

"don't you have a really big deadline coming up?"

"sure, but..." diavolo puffs and looks at the piles of paperwork in front of him, before shooting you a hopeful look. "it would be wrong of me to neglect a guest."

he's trying to use you to get out of his paperwork. with as responsible as he usually is, it always catches you off guard to see him so desperately try to avoid his duties as future king. it would be cute, of course, if you didn't know how this dance went: soon enough, babratos would be here to see you off, insisting you let lord diavolo get back to work. some days you'd linger around the demon lord's castle, spending the afternoon by the butler's side and sampling his impressive tea selection.

"i should really get home, mammon told me he wanted--"

"please don't go."

his tone is sobering. for once, he's not asking, but begging for you not to go. he doesn't have to be on his knees to get the point across-- one look from those big, earnest, endlessly sincere eyes of his and you understand.

it's not often that he gets to be selfish in this way. as much as diavolo wants you around the castle, lounging your free days away by his side, he knows the demon brothers are just as possessive over your time. he treasures every visit you make to see him. yet, it never feels like enough. today it all spills out from inside his chest, three words and a pleading look conveying a deeper sense of loneliness than you ever thought such a joyous person could hold.

you take another look back at the door before plopping yourself into a chair at the desk, opposite from him, and smiling.

"i'm sure i could play secretary for a few hours," you decide, and the high-beam grin he gives you makes it all worth it.

two angsty-er hurt/comfort scenarios and a fluff coming right up :)

reminder that this event is still open and accepting requests! there are still 12 unused prompts remaining, so feel free to drop a request in my ask box!

[500 follower event masterlist] // [obey me masterlist]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me fluff #obey me comfort #obey me scenarios #obey me writing #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #otome #onyourowndaisymae 500 follower event!

[teawithnosugar]

Terrified Her

! Pairings ,' Toxic!Ellie x Chronically ill!Reader ! CW ,' angst, Ellie is kind of toxic???, anxiety??? not the best depiction of a heart disease, open ending ! words ,' 1.4k ! synopsis ,' Ellie is constantly pushing you away and your already weak heart can't take it anymore ! song ,' You're Losing Me - Taylor Swift

"I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy"

! AN ,' not happy with how this turned out, still practicing after years of writer's block so feedback is appreciated <3

“My god- just fuck off for once!”

The words echoed in your ears like a piercing scream, shaking the fragile peace of your farmhouse. Barely a week had passed since your return from Santa Barbara, yet the tension between you and Ellie had grown unbearable. Each time those harsh words spilled from her lips, they struck your heart with the force of a jagged stone.

“We can’t keep going on like this Els, we need to talk about this, I can help you.”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears, and Ellie stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She never strayed too far, merely pacing around the farm, choosing to sleep beneath the stars instead of finding solace by your side. So you retreated to the bedroom, sleeping alone once again. Silently, tears streamed down your face, just as they had during the treacherous journey to Santa Barbara and back. You had mastered the art of stifling your sobs and sniffles, not wanting to further upset Ellie. That was a mistake on your part, creating a barrier that held her back from comprehending the agony that her relentless quest for vengeance caused you.

The morning arrived, Ellie's absence was noticeable until you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. With puffy eyes, you cast a pointed glare at her as she walked into your home. You needed to let her know that this was wrong. But when she gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek and ever so casually asked what you were making, you almost crumbled then and there beneath the weight of her indifference or feigned ignorance of the profound anguish you bore down deep.

You held it together though, as always, and gave her a soft answer, afraid to use too much energy in speaking as it was already taking everything in you to keep it together.

“Some pancakes…it’s all I could make with what we have right now.”

She hummed in response, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind as you cooked. Resting her head on your shoulder, she seemed lost in thought, oblivious to how tightly she held onto you. Her embrace that used to comfort you greatly now suffocated you, literally. She was clearly still grappling with the events in Santa Barbara. Ellie had been frustrated for years, always yearning to seek revenge. Now that she was back home, she felt so alone, and that killed you because you were right there, begging for her to see you.

But now, you were softly begging for her to let go, wincing a little because her grip had opened a few stitches of wounds earned during your trip.

"Shit, sorry," she quickly let go, hurrying to retrieve the first-aid kit from the bathroom when she noticed blood seeping through your shirt. You turned off the stove and perched on the counter, patiently waiting for her to return.

You slipped your shirt off, to make it easier for you both. Once you got a look at the wound, only a few stitches had come undone but you took blood thinners due to the heart condition you had and it caused an excessive flow of crimson.

Ellie wordlessly positioned herself between your legs, tending to the wound with delicate hands and having to do very minor stitches. Her brows furrowed in worry and lips pursed in concentration, guilt filled her eyes as she adamantly avoided meeting your gaze.

In moments like these, you caught a glimpse of the Ellie you fell in love with all those years ago in Jackson—the one hidden beneath the walls you now saw, your Ellie.

Your Ellie, once so tender and serene, always playing your favorite songs and filling her notebook with drawings of you. Now her guitar sits silently in the corner, its strings wounded by her injury. And she had grown weary, devoid of the energy to birth new art. Whenever she opens her notebook, it's only to revisit old memories. Once, she left it out on the table, and it was hard not to notice the prominent tear stains that marked its pages, like a sad reminder of lost joy.

Even when she finished patching you up, she lingered before you, her presence marked by silence, her hands trembling ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but ask a soft “you okay Els?”

In an instant, her expression changed dramatically. She emitted a small, exasperated groan before abruptly leaving the room, a bitter remark escaping her lips, “I’m fine, stop fucking asking.”

You just closed your eyes, trying to steady the resounding heartbeat that you could hear in your ears. You swallowed thickly once you composed yourself, ignoring the pins and needles you felt on your forehead and fingertips.

You quickly abandoned the half-prepared meal and walked in front of her where she sat on the couch. You slipped on a shirt from a pile of clean laundry next to her. Silently, you stood before her, though she made it abundantly clear that she would ignore you, rolling her eyes and meticulously cleaning her already gleaming firearm.

“Ellie…please…we need to talk about this…I’ve been so understanding…let me into the pretty little head of yours.” You whispered softly, voice a gentle plea as you put a gentle hand on her hair, which she quickly swatted away as she rose from the couch.

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m fucking fine”

“You’re not fine!” You shouted, causing her to freeze because you never raised your voice at her before.

“Just…leave me alone Y/N…” she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Are you sure you want me to do that? Cause if you want me to leave you alone, I’m going to fucking leave.” Your voice resonated with firmness, but your eyes begged her for any kind of communication, to tell you she wanted you there.

Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find the words she sought but all that left her mouth was a soft and pathetic “I don’t understand.”

“Clearly,” you muttered under your breath before shaking your head softly and sighing. “I’m getting tired Els, I’m here to help you. I’ve done nothing but fight by your side…so stop ignoring me…” You took a few steps closer to the brunette. Every step you took, a warmth blossomed within Ellie's chest, a familiarity she hadn't felt since Joel’s death. It absolutely terrified her, bringing back memories from when she had everything, reminding her of everything she had lost yet again, so she snapped.

You had no idea what she was shouting at you, and neither did she. She screamed at you words that she hadn’t even processed before they left her lips. You didn’t know when it happened but you were now standing, back against the wall as she pinned you, her arms enclosing you in as she spewed words she didn’t even mean.

Her glare alone caused you to instinctively shrink, your heart pounding so forcefully that all you could hear was the ringing in your ears. You wanted to tell her to stop, that you felt like you were going to faint, but you felt frozen on the spot.

You had a heart condition, a condition that demanded caution, and yet you followed Ellie across the country despite the dangers. But it was not the infected or violent people that quickened your heartbeat in an unhealthy manner; it was Ellie, right within the safety of your home. Ellie just had that effect on you

It’s only when you let out a strained cough, doubling over against her, did she finally realize the extent of her rampage and fell silent.

She immediately lowers both of you to the floor, cradling you in her arms.

You desperately tried to breathe and she did everything she could to help, holding your hand and whispering sweet words. She kept you close to her chest, trying to calm you down. As your breathing gradually steadied, absolutely drained, you closed your eyes, falling asleep in her arms.

Ellie fought back tears as she held you because she realized that while she mourned the losses she had endured, you had been silently mourning your relationship which wasn’t even over yet and that was all her fault. Her thoughts spun wildly, attempting to etch the feeling of your weight on her and your scent into her memory, unsure if you’d grant her such intimacy like this again when you wake up. That terrified her.

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader

[radical-revolution]

Since you alone are responsible for your thoughts, only you can change them.” ~Paramahansa Yogananda

The Buddha got it so much more accurately than Descartes. “With our thoughts, we create the world.” That’s extraordinarily profound. It’s also scary because if we’re not in control of our thoughts and where they take us, the world we create with those thoughts can become horrific. What we are witnessing in our world right now, with the resurrection of openly racist and in some cases literally neo-fascist views, can only have arisen as the result of people’s thoughts.

So if you want just a happy life for yourself, free from worries, anxiety, depression, anger, resentment, bitterness, and a score of other harmful and often self-destructive moods and emotions, you need to train your mind so it becomes less automatic, less conditioned, less distracted, and in its place, more under your direct control.

And if a good society or a sane, fruitful world is to become a reality this will require billions of people to develop control over their minds so that they do not fall prey to the influence of hateful demagogues. It starts with you. I know dozens of people who are politically engaged and active in what we’d call progressive campaigns, know what they oppose, and know what their idea of a good society is. But they’re not in charge even of their own minds, let alone able to convince others to change theirs. They display hatred and a total absence of compassion for their political opponents, celebrate every minor mistake the “enemy” makes, and generally demonstrate precisely the attitudes that they believe we need to eradicate if society is to improve.

If you want a love of life, which is simply a state of mind, you have to develop it. If you want peace of mind then do the work that brings you closer to it. Do not accept being a semi-automaton.

If you want a good society then it really does start with you. Gandhi was another one who got it right. “Be the change you want to see in this world”. You could add, more obviously “Train yourself so that you become the change you want to see in yourself”. Or in the words of another social radical “first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye”.

Martin Stepek