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sinofwriting · 17 hours

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Out Loud - Charles Leclerc

Words: 1,807 Summary: She hasn’t been herself and she knows it’s worrying people, Charles. She just can’t get the words out. Note(s)/Warning(s): Reader is Jules Bianchi’s daughter and Charles’ goddaughter. Reader has longish hair. Coming Out (as Bisexual), Some Self Harm, Not Eating, Mentions of Throwing Up, Religious Trauma. Honestly this fic is kind of me just dumping my feelings out after being reminded of my less than great coming out experience as bisexual to my parents. I’m okay, just needed to write this and uh get back into therapy. If I missed a warning, let me know and if anyone reading this needs to talk, I’m here for you. (also, I promise that Dark Max fic is coming, Charles winning Monaco just threw a spanner into my plans and then this fic happened as well)

Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

She’s never said the words out loud. Never spoke them to herself or others. And she isn’t sure why. It can’t because it will make them true. They already are.

And she knows why. It’s not because it will make them true. They already are. It’s because she knows that as soon as she says them once, she’ll never stop.

The idea of saying them as her shaking, has her stomach twisted in knots, has her throwing up, headaches that won’t leave from all her crying. It’s all self-inflicted because she can’t say the words. And it’s only two words, three if she’s going for proper grammar and yet they won’t leave her. They refuse to spill from her tongue and past her lips. They settle in her throat and strangle her. Leave her gasping for breath, clawing at her throat in hopes that their grip will loosen. But it never works out that way.

Charles is concerned. She sees it every time he looks at her. She’s lost weight, because even though she’s stress eating, when she’s not doing that she’s throwing it all back up, and she cries while doing both. Her face is starting to lean towards gaunt and the circles under her eyes are growing larger. She can only hope that he doesn’t see the bruises on the inner sides of her wrists, on her inner thighs, where she pinches and squeezes, barely even noticing the pain that it causes because it’s something for her fingers to do.

He’s concerned and she knows because Arthur is concerned too. And suddenly Pierre is going to be staying with them for a while, ditching Kika because she apparently has a family trip, no boyfriends allowed, even though she knows from a friend of a friend that Kika and Pierre had plans together in Greece and Bora Bora. Plans that Kika was apparently happy to reschedule.

She’s so lost in her head, in her thoughts, in her wishes that she could just speak that she doesn’t hear the light knock of knuckles on her bedroom door before it opens.

“Pierre is going to be here soon. You should get up, come greet him.” Charles' voice is gentle, always gentle with her, even when she doesn’t deserve it. “I’m tired.” She breathes and it’s not a lie. She is tired. Tired of being a coward, tired of pretending like she will ever say when she needs to and really she should just get over herself at this point. But it’s more frightening, the idea of never saying the words at all then what could happen if she does say them. “You can go back to bed after seeing him for a moment, I promise.” Her eyes flutter shut at his last two words and she nods. “Okay. I need to shower.”

As she climbs out of bed, she wobbles and she can feel his eyes on her. “Do you need help?” She tries to smile at him, but she knows that it doesn’t work with the way the worry grows on his face. “I think I’m too old for my godfather to help me shower.” Something crosses his face as if he’s only now remembering she isn’t a little girl anymore, she’s eighteen, no longer the nine-year-old he got stuck with. “I guess so.” He gives her a smile. “I’ll be in the living room, I’ll do your hair for you.” She wants to protest, but he closes the door before she can and she knows that it’s on purpose.

Charles loved doing her hair and when she had turned twelve for a while it had been the only time she would talk to him about anything, even what she ate for dinner the previous night. As she washes her hair, she tries to think of the last time he had done it. Even just giving it a small brush before they left for dinner somewhere or him braiding it or him trying to turn her hair into some sort of flower before going back to just making it look like a rose. When was the last time he had done that? When was the last time she let him do that for her?

It had been before the season started, just before he left for the first race. She remembers now because his hands were anxious to do something. Worried that it’d be a repeat of 2022 where it would start off good and then end in disappointment. She winces as she thinks of how long it’s been and the reminder of what 2023 has been like for him.

Drying off and slipping into an old shirt of Charles from karting and a pair of Lorenzo’s shorts, she nearly goes back to bed. It’s tempting, the blankets comfy and her sheets soft, but she walks past it and out of her bedroom.

Charles is already sitting on the couch, legs spread with a pillow on the ground between them. A host of hair things sit beside him on the couch cushions. The detangler she’s used all her life that Pascale always gives her, the special made f1 car clips from Max, pearl clips from her grandma and grandpa, the bands from her aunt, the different brushes Sebastian bought her that first year Charles was at Ferrari that only get used when Charles and her are going to be doing this for a while.

Seeing them makes her pause. “I thought Pierre was going to be here soon.” He smiles at her, fond and happy, but still worried and concerned. “Within the hour. But he has a key, he’ll let himself in.” She nods, slowly moving closer until she finally sinks onto the floor, sitting on the pillow. Instantly, Charles’ hands are in her hair, tutting at the barely damp locks. “I will have to take you to grandmère soon. It’s been too long.” “I went not that long ago.” “You went just after the season started. We are in August now.” She makes a humming sound, eyes focusing on the tv that’s turned off.

It’s soothing the feeling of her godfather’s fingers in her hair, running through it, quietly hissing each time he comes across a knot, no matter how small. The quiet apologies that spill from his lips each time he tugs what he deems to harsh, when it is barely a tug at all.

“Y’know.” He begins. “When you were born you had no hair. It was amusing to all of us because your father had been promising grandmère that she’d have a grandbaby’s hair to play with. And my father,” Charles takes a breath and she leans into his right leg a little. “He had told him the whole time not to promise that. Jules was beside himself when you didn’t get any hair until you were six months.” “I was a bald baby.” Charles laughs. “The baldest baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs after a few moments. “For what?” She can see from the corner of her eye him picking up a brush. “For how your season is going. Ferrari is not doing well.” “Ferrari is managing. There is lots of changes and this is not the car that Fred wanted for us, but it is the one we have.” “You think 2024 will be better?” “I don’t know what to think other than I can not think about that. I don’t want more disappointment or broken promises.” “You deserve a good car, the best car.” “Perhaps I’ll get it someday.”

As he starts to brush her hair, her eyes wander, looking at all the pictures she can see and has seen countless times before. There’s many, most of family, some of friends, and some of Charles’ time with Ferrari, in racing. As her eyes wander further, they stop on the small cross hanging on by the window. It makes her breathing stutter and she rips her eyes away from it, forcing them to look back at the blank tv.

But seeing just for a few seconds was enough.

“Charles.” He makes a humming noise, his movements not stilling. “If I had to tell you something,” she swallows, thinking of her backpack by the front door that’s got two spare sets of clothes, her wallet, all her identification, and more importantly a spare phone. “Something that would change things, how would you react?” “That is very vague.” He tells her, fingers starting to twist her hair. “It would depend on how it changes things.” “It would change how you saw me.” That makes him pause and she catches his eyes, so expressive in the tv reflection. “Nothing could change how I feel about you. You are my goddaughter, I love you. I’ve raised you since you were nine. Nothing could ever change the love I have for you.” Tears that had started to build in her eyes when he first started to talk, fall. “I’m,” she takes a shaky breath. “I’m bisexual.”

Silence fills the room and she can’t breathe, can’t take a breath, can’t break the silence, as she waits for him to say something, anything. She doesn’t even realize, but she’s started to move a little away from him, ready to bolt, ready to slip on her shoes by the door, grab her backpack and make a run for it. Because she’s ready. She’s ready for him to tell her to leave, to get out of his house. She’s ready for him to drag her to church, to make her pray like she hasn’t already for wanting not just men, but also women. She’s ready.

She is so unbelievably unready for what he actually says.

“Are you still who I raised you to be?” “Yes.” She nods, not even having to think. Because she is, she promises that she is. She is still the girl that Charles taught to be kind, to be nice, to make sure she is always heard. She is still the little girl that Charles became a godfather to. She’s still the girl that Charles became a father to as well. “I am.” She sobs. “Oh, mon bébé.” He sighs and he’s turning her around before pulling her up into his lap, making her curl up against him as she sobs into his shirt.

“I love you so much. You being bisexual doesn’t change a thing. And I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it would.” “Papa.” She cries and his lips are pressing to her forehead as he somehow manages to rock her. “Thank you for trusting me with this, with you.” He tells her when her sobs have died down and she’s able to look at him with not blurry vision. “I’m sorry I took so long.” “No.” He shakes his head, wiping her tears. “You took as much time as you needed.”

#charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #been a bit since i've written a platonic fic

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queerbuckleys · 1 day

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i made a short post here referring to my own experiences and wanted to expand on it, you can reblog both of these posts btw. I am only writing this all down because the way some of you have spoken about chris and his decision very much bothers me. trust when i tell you i do not want to completely lay out my trauma on the internet for all of you to read, but if it makes one of you understand why this works, why it is important, then it will have been worth it to me.

When I was 12 my father was diagnosed with frontal temporal dementia. the adults in my family and his doctors decided that it was best for him to be moved to a a full time care facility. The next year, and after hearing, seeing, and understanding my father's condition and where it would go, I, at thirteen years old, made the decision to say goodbye to him, that I did not want to hear about what levels of deterioration he had reached. I wanted to remember him as he was when he remembered me, and all the adventures and fun things we did together.

I made that decision. I made it because it was easier than watching him deteriorate, forget who his sister, his brother, my brother, my mother, and me. And I knew that at twelve and thirteen. It was never a decision I ever thought I would have to make, it wasn't a decision I should've had to make.

Now, the important part, over the next few years my decision was questioned and ignored by the adults in my life and even my brother, some of the questioning I can understand now that I am older, but it should have never reached the level it did. My aunt and uncle would openly discuss his condition over dinner when he came to visit, and I would run away to the restaurant bathroom and cry my eyes out until my mom came to get me. I was forced into visiting him in his care home, which ended with it causing far more harm than good. Only then was my decision somewhat respected, it took me being retraumatized for it to be taken seriously.

Despite all of that, I do not regret that decision.

I can't know how I would be different if none of that happened. But at this point in my live, eleven years and some therapy later, I am fairly certain I would be less traumatized, carry less resentment and anger, if maybe my mom had spoken up at those dinners and made arrangements to get updates without me next to her trying to enjoy my pizza. Had I not had to see my own father forget my name and then have some sort of mini medical emergency. Had my brother heard me in a way only a sibling could.

So, yes, Christopher at thirteen made a indefinite and truly most likely temporary decision to remove himself from an environment where he doesn't fully trust his sole and primary caregiver. He knows his dad loves him, Eddie made that so clear. And it could really be 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 weeks, and so on and so forth until Christopher is ready to come home. And him knowing that Eddie respected his decision and loves him no matter what is what is going to make that time shorter. If he had walked out with his father begging him to stay, to forgive him before he was ready, the chances of him coming back would in my opinion would be far slimmer than the circumstances under which he did leave.

with that i leave you this, "yeah people go away. and it's sad. and it hurts. but you know, not everyone goes away forever. sometimes they come back. and as much as we miss them, that's how happy we are to see them again."

#like i feel like i had to take my lived experience and put it out there cause i think it is rare that it is relevant like this #and many of you are posting from a place of idk what but its not that #sorry if this feels tmi or something idk #also this way of dealing with things is encoded in his dna from both sides #and this is truly the safest way he can do that #and some of you are acting like phones do not exists ffs #911 abc #911 spoilers #i might regret this or whatever #ok to rb #i said this to amelia in a text but tbh this kind of respect toward chris from eddie is just as important to me as bi buck #and i guess if i am the only one that feels that way or you can understand why after this...then well i cannot help you #anyway back to my hiatus ig

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multiverse-menagerie · 2 days

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Perchance… could I request the bg3 companions with a Tav who has a bleeding heart? They’ll do what they need to do, kill who they need to, etc. but they still are easily tricked by just basic human kindness and often feel guilty for killing folk and whatnot. They’re ridiculously caring towards the party as well, often putting their needs above their own.

Karlach

Karlach gets it. She really does. But she’s been through (literal) Hell and has learned to be a bit more cautious

But she adores how much you love and trust people

I almost see her as someone who would go behind after you to set people straight if they conned you or anything like that

Something about it is so heartwarming ;) to Karlach, watching you take care of everyone - herself included. She wants you to look after her forever while she does the same for you

Shadowheart

almost disgusted by your altruism, in the beginning. She sees no point in it and points it out readily to you

Deep down though, even in the beginning, she likes it and almost envies you for it. She feels bad for speaking down to you especially after she’s had time by your side

Shadowheart enjoys being doted on and care for. She enjoys that you treat your friends like family and that you’re all carving out a little place for y’all

She’ll pout if you’re fussing over someone more than her, though she tries to deny it

Lae’zel

Similarly to Shadowheart, I think at first Lae’zel would find your actions unnecessary and dragging. She’s on a time crunch and knows where she needs to go, and helping all these people isn’t helping y’all

I’m not sure Lae’zel would ever truly warm up to being so willing to lend a helping hand. But I think she would appreciate and commend (and come to respect) you for being able to care so deeply for others (she’s not so certain she’s capable of that magnitude)

Forces you to take care of yourself and won’t hear shit about it; no she didn’t cook this meal just for you to ignore it bc Shadowheart needs to traumadump some more, eat you doofus

Gale

Gale finds it endearing, if a little worrisome. He’s happy to let you fawn over your camp mates but he’s draws the line at being so easily swayed by strangers

He tries to be diplomatic when he’s urging you away from suspicious individuals bc he really doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you need to change, he’s just trying to protect you to his best ability

Gale’s not particularly used to being doted on, but it’s almost…relieving, in a way. Refreshing?

He does work very hard to make sure you’re taken care of as well, cooking good meals and forcing coercing you to bed at a reasonable time

Wyll

heart eyes

Wyll himself sees (or wants to see) the world through rose colored glasses so he’s enamored that you do

He’s also probably one of the only ones to really understand your guilt over killing, even when necessary. He’s happy to talk you through your emotions over it and never hesitates to reassure you that you’re doing the right thing

flusters when your attention turns to him, but doubles it back in repayment to you

Astarion

Astarion seethes at first. He hates your tender-heartedness, hates how kind and soft you are, how loving you are with everyone, it’s just grinds against him

As he sorts through his trauma (and comes to appreciate your care, towards him and your friends at least) he stops whining about it…as much

He will absolutely shut someone down if they’re trying to use, manipulate, or fool you. Astarion only refrains from more…permanent silencing solutions because he knows you wouldn’t like it

He does, however, preen under your attention. True, no-strings-attached care? It takes him a long time to comfortable with it but he cherishes it

Halsin

While he certainly adores your tenderness, he tries to caution you over being too willing to blindly believe someone

Halsin is happy to comfort you through any remorse or guilt of course, but is quick to remind you that this is simply the way the world works

Watching you take care of your little band of misfits makes him melt. You care for them and then he cares for you when you come to him at the end of the day

Halsin would carry your burdens for you if he could, instead he’ll travel by your side and help you help others (while giving you looks that make you swoon let’s be real)

#astarion x reader #wyll x reader #halsin x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae’zel x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 5 hours

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≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with plot), porn with feelings, past relationship trauma (see: toxic relationship, slight implications of mental and physical abuse), reader with insecurities (self-worth, relationship), angst ish?, hurt/comfort, kissing and making out, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, soft sex, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of nicknames "pretty" "princess" "milady/my lady", lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited))

wc : 5k+

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @thoupenguinman (sign up here!!)

an : a lot softer and less... explicit? than the rest of my works i have on here?? but happy june guys, have my compensation for not including jem in the youtiful lineup <3

Thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end; but on a Wednesday, in a café—you watched it begin again.

The walk home was always tedious.

You passed this way every night; it was always quiet. Nothing but the click clack of your heels against the pavement would echo, the streets devoid of life as they usually were, especially at this hour. It didn’t bother you. It never did. Even the rhythmic buzz of the lamplights were familiar to you, little lulls of comfort that were always welcome.

It was lonely, usually.

You were used to it that way.

But it was different tonight.

You leaned against the warmth to your side, his arm on your waist drawing you close. He chuckled, almost as if he found your more obvious display of affection a little endearing, and then he responded in kind—a soft, barely-there kiss over the top of your head, just enough to remind you fully of his presence.

“Still a little far?” came his voice. And the soft shake of your head caught another whiff of his cologne, that grounding, earthy scent mixing well with the smell of flowers you’d come to associate him with.

It made you smile.

“Just a couple of blocks ahead. But… thanks for, you know. Going out of your way to walk me home, and all. You really didn’t have to…”

You didn’t look at him, but you could almost hear the raise of his eyebrow as he spoke; “What? Of course I’d walk you home! Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me not to make sure my date gets home safely, right!?”

He sounded bewildered that you would even ask such a thing, and you laughed. A genuine laugh. One that you hadn’t had in quite some time.

“I know, I know. I’m just used to this route, that’s all. I come home at this hour on most days, so it’s nothing new to me…”

“Hey, hey. Come on. I wouldn’t leave a pretty girl like you all alone, especially not after we’ve just had dinner. Cut me some slack, won’t you? Let me spoil you a little bit, maybe I just… want this date to last a little longer.”

His voice seemed to soften the more he spoke, and as your steps slowed down—almost as if in response to him—he turned to look at you.

“Everything okay?”

That his first instinct was concern for your wellbeing made you blink in surprise.

“Huh?” you hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slowed down, the sting against your heel much more obvious now than it had been at the start of your date. You didn’t mean, either, for your gaze to shift down, maybe testing a couple of your steps—

“Oh… Is it your heels? Do your feet hurt?”

Jeremiah was observant.

His voice came out a lot gentler than it had been, and he immediately pulled you over to the side. “Not much further, right? I can carry you, if you want. That way you wouldn’t have to trouble yourself too much…”

There was something like a sense of hesitation that passed in your eyes. Perhaps, you hadn’t noticed it yourself—not until you turned your head away from him, gaze drifting a little off to the side.

A beat, and then; “...Okay,” you sighed, giving in. “But, I…”

He crouched down, barely giving you much time to react, helping you over his back. He was much warmer like this. Much closer to you. And you wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to revel a little more in the moment. The floral scent was much stronger, too, up close, the way you were. Reminiscent of how long he’d work in the shop for a day; of how much time spent around the plants he cared for so tenderly. You recalled how he mentioned he could never get the scents out from him completely, but you liked it.

It was comforting.

You buried your face into his hair for a moment as he walked.

“...Sorry,” you mumbled out next. Your chin rest against his head, looking out into the lamplit path before you. “I don’t mean to trouble you. I won’t wear heels next time…”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

He glanced back, turning his head slightly, just enough to make brief eye-contact. “There’s nothing wrong with heels. Must’ve been tiring for you to walk in them this whole evening, so I get it. I don’t mind helping out a bit, you know? Besides…”

He paused, and you caught a glimpse of a smile.

“You look really pretty in them.”

Simple words that made your heart flutter.

Perhaps, words that you’d never heard directed to you yourself, not in this context.

And that was the first time—probably, the first in the longest while—that you’d ever felt so… loved.

And then there would be several more instances after that.

Simple things, too. Like the time he listened to your favorite song with you; new, and unfamiliar to him, but taken without judgement. Accepted with a cheerful smile.

You remembered that day.

The little speaker had been sounding out some music as the two of you moved around the kitchen. Flour in your hair, flour on his apron, hands busy molding the dough into those perfectly round shapes that gave you joy… A little hum, here and there, the casual bob of the head to the beat. In a lighthearted atmosphere, you simply enjoyed being in his presence. The love that both of you had for baking became a comfort in your relationship, any moment spent next to him that way was enough to chase most of your worries away.

But a shared playlist between the both of you also meant that there would be a couple of tracks tailored each to your own tastes—

Yours, you knew, were not always so… well-received.

“Oh? What’s this song?”

His ears had perked up at the very start of the tune, hands pausing if only to be able to get a closer listen.

It was reminiscent, almost; the image of it familiar. Because these were songs that they wouldn’t get. Songs you’d be forced to change; songs you’d be told to listen to alone—sometimes, oftentimes, you had to cater to the tastes of others. You’d taken a risk by putting the song on the playlist at all.

He could listen, and then…

“O-oh, that’s just… Um, you know. One of the songs from my side of the playlist…”

You’d laughed a little awkwardly, pausing, too, in your movements, only to dust off your hands and reach for your phone. “We could find something else!” was your immediate reaction, scrolling through the playlist, easily prepared to switch if need be.

And his reply would’ve been one to stick with you for quite some time.

“I don’t mind, you know,” his voice had softened, as if having noticed your shift in demeanor. For a moment it didn’t matter that the both of you were covered in all the mess that your baking session had caused, and he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I think it’s a pretty cool song! I’ve… heard that sometimes the things people listen to say a lot about themselves. And I want to know more about you. So I’d listen to any kind of music that you would, too, princess.”

It was the first time he’d used the nickname with you.

You’d retaliated with a flick of leftover flour into his hair, but you smiled.

Typical Jeremiah.

The swirl of doubts that had settled into the pit of your stomach seemed less daunting—

And he would do it again.

He made sure that he would.

You’d never talked about it, not really—it wasn’t a topic you were ready to open just yet, but Jeremiah was patient.

He would love you, anyway.

Legs tangled with yours on the couch, hands running softly through your hair… He’d let you talk with him. You wouldn’t get reprimanded for speaking, even despite the movie playing on the TV, even despite whatever it was he’d be working on. The walls were less dividing, you felt a little bit more like… yourself.

You hadn’t, in a while.

And that night, he told you he loved you.

For the first time, as you drifted off to sleep, his lips against your forehead, soft murmurs of adoration into your hair… he told you he loved you.

And maybe it didn’t matter anymore, what happened in your past.

He made you want to believe again.

That this could work.

That this was worth it.

That he was worth it.

It was all you had thought about for several days; the what ifs.

The way you could crash and burn at the prospect of another cycle repeating—of letting your guard down, of letting him in, of all the uncertainties that came with diving in headfirst when you so desperately wanted to trust in him, only to fear what felt like an inevitable end. All fragrant perfumes as petals unfurl one by one, a sea of beautiful pinks and reds enough to blind you into their allure and have you bleed—you had always felt this way. Every rose had their thorns; and you’d just never learned to love… without them.

Never learned to love without the lies.

Never known how much to take before you realized enough was enough; never known how far to let them sink, how many cuts and scrapes and bruises you had to endure.

But Jeremiah made you want to believe.

That maybe this rose had thorns that wouldn’t be so skin deep. Maybe this rose was worth it; maybe this rose could be sweeter, a bed of roses, torture redistributed, something… different.

Jeremiah felt different.

You wanted to believe it.

You felt that you believed it.

And perhaps, that was why you wanted desperately not to mess things up.

The phone call was the last thing you remembered. His voice had been cheerful, particularly upbeat, no doubt looking forward to coming over once he was free—you checked the time, then, you remembered. He would have been over in a little more than an hour.

You’d fallen asleep.

The idea was to cook dinner; the idea was to be a little fancy—for all that he had been spoiling you, you only figured that you could return the favor as best as you could.

Clearly, things worked out much… differently. If you could still call it working out at all.

You woke up to a gentle shake of your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your forehead. His voice was soft in your ear when he spoke this time; “Hey, princess. You nap okay?”

Your eyes widened.

Your phone, clutched in your hand, held close to your chest, had been turned off—likely due to the fact that you’d forgotten to charge it, again.

“J-Jeremiah?” You were still a little groggy as you sat up to face him, barely registering the little smile on his face. In the moment, you couldn’t quite tell if he was trying to tease you; instead—the panic set in.

If he was here, and if he’d taken to waking you, that only meant that you weren’t able to prepare dinner at all.

And you knew that Jeremiah would most likely let it slide, you knew in your heart that he wasn’t upset.

But, perhaps, your natural response remained rooted in patterns of the past.

It was quick, almost—the way flashes of red seemed to cloud your mind for a moment as you jumped up, nearly bumping into him in the process, not at all processing the look of surprise that had formed on his face.

“Milady?” He’d called out tentatively.

“I— god, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I know you’re coming home from a really long day, and we promised we’d have this dinner, and—shit— I-I’ll get something ready! Just give me a few moments, I promise I’ll—”

Rambling.

A habit you had developed very, very early on, and a habit you knew often lead to your own demise.

Jeremiah reached out as if to steady you, his brows knitted together in concern, his hand poised—

And you winced.

The physical recoil was nearly instantaneous.

You took a step back, shoulders tensed, face turned slightly to the side, almost as if bracing for something you knew would have been familiar to you.

“Princess, hey…”

It didn’t come.

Instead, Jeremiah inched closer, taking your hands into his, giving them a little squeeze.

“It’s alright,” he gave you a little nod, voice slow and gentle. It was enough encouragement to coax you to look back at him—and the love in his gaze made you draw in a breath.

“‘Miah,” you choked out, and you felt tears sting at your eyes.

“It’s okay, princess, look at me. You good? I’m not upset with you, you must’ve been tired, too… I feel a lot better knowing you got some rest, so don’t worry about dinner. We can just order something from outside.”

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe him—almost.

But you knew that look in his eyes. They were sweet, and tender, and loving. Caring—adoring. So much so that it was overwhelming, almost. The honesty, the sincerity in his words… Knowing you were unable to fulfil something you promised him, yet still choosing to prioritize you out of it. How you felt. How you rested, despite being undoubtedly tired himself.

You couldn’t help it, then. You fell forward into his arms, burying your face into your hands, trying not to look at him as the tears flowed down your cheeks. Your sobs remained choked back, as if refusing to let them free, and he rubbed comforting circles into your back.

You could feel his confusion, undoubtedly.

“C’mon, princess, talk to me. What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”

A shake of your head.

“But I gotta hear it from you, pretty… Hey, I’m not upset, you know that, right?”

This time a nod of your head, and your hands moved to wrap around his waist.

“I know, I just… M’sorry, ‘Miah…. I know you don’t want to see me like this, I just—it’s all so overwhelming, I—I’m sorry, I’ll fix this, I’ll fix me, I’ll—”

“Shhh, shhh. Shhh. Shhhh.” He tucked your head under his chin, the warmth of his embrace tightening its hold on you. A little shift, and he tugged you back onto the couch with him, resting in his arms, thumb reaching over to wipe away your tears. “You don’t need to do anything now, princess. You don’t have to fix everything from the start, sometimes it’ll just… Take some time. S’alright to cry with me, I don’t mind. You’re still pretty when you cry. It won’t make me love you any less.”

You listened, sniffling, arms wrapped around his chest.

“You can be vulnerable with me if you want to,” he continued; repeated. “You can cry all you need to, too. I’ll always love you, milady.”

And you didn’t protest.

Not as he tilted your chin back up to look at him, leaning in to place another kiss on your forehead—”I love you like this,” he whispered.

The space between your eyebrows; “I love you like this.”

Then on your cheeks—the tips of your ears—the tip of your nose.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

A promised whisper with every little peck, the graze of his lips against your skin so gentle that you could melt.

“I love you,” another whisper, before his lips were on yours. Supple, and soft, and your eyes closed to relish the moment.

“I love you,” you mumbled back.

And his lips were back on yours as your back hit the couch, fingers threading through your hair, resting over the side of your face only to cup your cheek and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. His other hand lay on your waist, gentle, rhythmic strokes over your clothed skin, moving in time with the way his lips seemed to dance with yours. It was quick, how things began to escalate. But you didn't protest. You fell into it, the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, the heat radiating off of your bodies, flushed together, leaving the air heedy with want. Time seemed to slow to a stop in that moment, and your lips parted just enough to let his tongue delve into you.

He did it first; a soft “Mmh…” against your lips, reverberating in his chest and leaving you with tingles all over your body. Each time he pulled back you would gasp, only to have him back against your lips, as if neither of you could stop—and neither of you wanted to stop. Within seconds, the sounds of hushed moans and slick, sloppy kisses seemed to bounce around the living room.

His hands began to play coy, sliding beneath your shirt, the direct skin-to-skin contact making you jolt. He'd leave goosebumps in the wake of his touch, hands trailing up the side of your waist…

It was intoxicating.

Your eyelids felt heavy, and you felt the way you would lift your head, chasing the warmth of his lips when he pulled back, despite the way your chest heaved as you panted for air.

“‘Miah…” you spoke first; a little tug on his sleeve. It was the only way you could ask for more, what with the way you were desperately trying to catch your breath.

He smiled, as if he knew.

Of course he knew.

“Pretty princess,” he mumbled, leaning in to place a kiss against the corner of your lips, just barely missing your own—teasing. “I love you.”

He said it again.

Your heart fluttered.

“I love you, and…”

You could feel his breath on your skin, hot, and heavy, and laced with threads of desire you both knew had stirring within you.

It was as if he couldn't resist, barely getting his sentence out—not even at all completing it—before his gaze dropped to your lips, and there you were again: crashing.

It was his hands that seemed to do the talking for you, sliding further up your body, his touches more intentional. The fabric of your shirt rode up more and more, and then it was you who was doing it for him: pushing his hands up against your breasts, allowing your shirt to bunch up over the top of your cleavage, moaning into the kiss at the intimate contact.

“Milady…” he would groan against you, pressing his body into you, letting you feel the extent of his own desires. “God, I… I love you.”

He pulled back slightly, panting over your lips. His hands moved to undo the clasp of your bra, and then they were back—”Can I show you how much I do?” he whispered.

“But, you… You haven't—we should have dinner…”

“It can wait. You're more important. Please, princess?”

And you knew you could never refuse.

Within seconds he had you pressed up against the couch, kisses as heated as they were, hands kneading into your flesh. His thumb grazed over your nipple, so pert and standing to attention—you could feel the way your chest arched into him in response.

Your moan came out louder than you expected when he pulled back, lips glossy and swollen from how much you'd been kissing. He rest on his heels to watch you writhe—his fingers twisted and pulled at your nipples, massaging into your breasts… Your eyes closed if only to avoid the head of his gaze, but you could feel it—the way he observed you, the way his eyes roamed over your body, the way it would twist and arch into his ministrations.

“So damn pretty,” he whispered.

And then you felt a jolt through your body when a hand traveled down, dipping beneath the waistband of your lower garments—and that was when your eyes opened.

A soft gasp fell from your lips.

His eyes were careful on yours, his face just as flushed, his hair much more of a mess than you remembered it had been before you'd even started—whatever this was.

“May I?” You could melt at the slight widening of his eyes into a pleading gaze, his hands rubbing against your hip. “I want to feel you here. I want to love you there, too.”

There was a moment of pause between you both, then.

You took a while to catch your breath, before you were lifting your hips, allowing him to pull down your garments, and he smiled.

“That's my girl.”

You had to close your eyes, the back of your hand moving over your mouth as you waited. It was slow, the way he undressed you. It was as if your body had his gaze completely enraptured, his movements agonizing, his eyes locked onto the trail of slick that snaps as he pulled off your underwear. Your cunt was flush and needy for attention, clit throbbing, wetness leaking onto the couch—you nearly had to close your legs when you saw the smirk that formed on his lips, but he was quicker. His hands moved to spread you apart and keep you in place, and then you were sitting up against the couch, legs hooked over his shoulders.

And he'd reached up to take your hands in his. Your fingers laced through together, a reassuring, loving squeeze—and there it was.

The first lick had you clenching your jaw, drawing in a sharp breath. One long stripe from your hole up to your clit, and your body jolted; his hands gave yours another squeeze.

“Shh, shh, relax, princess,” he mumbled—you nearly shut your eyes at the way he looked, your juices coating his tongue, the way he licked his lips as if to prove a point. “Look at me, pretty, okay? Breathe for me.”

His tongue darted out again, the contact against your folds having you gripping his hand tightly.

“Sh-shit—” you cursed, his tongue swirling a circle over your clit, slowly, slowly.

He would tease, still: dragging his tongue in a slow, light pattern, never quite touching your nub, only barely dipping into your hole. His eyes raised to look at you—you could tell he was enjoying himself, and you couldn't help but let out a whimper.

“S'it feel good?” he mumbled, the vibrations against you sending tingles up your spine. “You like that, pretty?”

“R-really good, ‘Miah, please—”

He smiled, placing soft kisses around your clit before finally, finally taking it into your mouth.

You gasped, your back arching, nails digging into his palms, his thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. You felt his praise in his movements, the way he sucked on your clit, the way he'd roll his tongue over you, between your folds, taking in every inch of your wetness that he possibly could… He let go of your hands, then, grabbing hold of your thighs, pulling you towards him. Your toes curled, his tongue prodding your entrance—

And then it slipped in.

“'M-’Miah!” you cried out, throwing your head back with the shiver of pleasure that coursed through your veins. “Pl-plea— please, nnh—”

You could bite your lip to maintain a volume less embarrassing for the both of you, but he was unrelenting. His hands gripped at the plush of your thigh before they snaked inwards, thumb attaching to your clit. His tongue swirled inside of you, and every roll of his thumb brought on a jolt of your hips—Cries of his name fell from your mouth; a chant, nearly beyond your control, the way your body would writhe and buck from his ministrations.

“M-Mmh!” you moaned; “J- Jeremiah! ‘Miah, ‘Miah—don't stop, pleas—right th-there, don't—nnh—!”

You felt the corners of his mouth twitch up unto a smile, and that was it for you.

Your muscles clenched, your thighs tensing around his head, hips lifting, mouth falling open in a silent moan.

He'd smile as you cum, lapping up your juices, each languid lick encouraging the twitch of you pussy, riding out your high.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

He let you go only to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. You could blush at the mere sight of him—lips red and swollen, slick dribbling down his chin, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips, taking in remnants of your juices.

“Jeremiah, you…”

You covered your face with your hands, feeling the embarrassment settle, but he only chuckled.

“I love you when you cum, too,” he whispered. His voice was close to your ear, and he placed a kiss against it—you let out a squeal, peeking out from behind your fingers before he pried them away from you. “You're beautiful, milady,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, “so pretty when you cum, so pretty for me. You'd be pretty with me inside you, too…”

You watched him delight in the way your face would redden, the way you feebly pushed at his chest as if to get him off of you.

But he laughed.

In his gaze, again, he held that same loving stare, eyes full of an adoration you could never match yourself—not when he looked at you like that.

“Only if you want to, of course,” he smiled, gently tucking an awry lock of hair behind your ear. “Seriously. I really, really love you… And I’d want ro do this with you. If you’re comfortable with it, if you'd let me… I want to love you like this, too.”

And there was so much love.

His eyes, a deep, deep brown you could get lost in any day, were reassuring. Calm, despite all that had gone on just moments ago. You felt… safe.

Safer than you've ever felt.

His touch was a warmth you welcomed, a gentleness so comforting, like the onset of spring. Like the sprouting of blossoms, like the gleam of the sky… Like—home. A pile of leaves you would gladly jump into.

You felt tears prick at your eyes again, your hands reaching out to tug on his sleeve—

“Want you, ‘Miah,” you whimpered. You'd plead and hold him close, wanting to feel him, to see him.

You could do this, you thought.

If it was with him, then—you could shard through any rose bush, weave through any forest. The bushes didn't block out the light anymore. It was different from diving in headfirst without much of a warning, when all he'd ever shown you was to be… Loved.

Thorns, and everything, and—

Maybe the challenges ahead didn't seem so… scary anymore.

Within moments he had you carried in his arms onto your bed, clothes discarded into a pile on the floor right there with yours. Your hair was in disarray as your head fell back against the pillows, linen sheets and the mattress plush against your body.

“I love you.”

He brought your hand to his lips, a manner of adoration, his eyes soft against the haze of the moonlight that shone through.

“I love you,” again.

Like he knew it was something you needed desperately to hear, like he was telling you he'd say it—again and again, as many times as you needed him to.

And you smiled.

Because this time, you say it back.

“I love you, Jeremiah.”

And his lips were back on yours, plush and soft like you've always known them to be, his hands trailing over your body. You were warm, still—so sensitive with the way you jolted and shivered against the pads of his fingers, the aftereffects of your earlier orgasm still reeling.

Then he pushed your legs apart and rest between them, rubbing against your entrance—your hands are held gently beside your head, fingers intertwined.

His lips never left yours.

He remained soft, and tender, molding his lips into yours when he entered. The initial thrust was slow and gentle; your moans swallowed into his kisses.

And everything—the way he filled you up, every ridge of his cock rubbing so sweetly against your walls; the way he kissed you, so loving; the way his hands had yours pressed into the mattress, a safety in the warmth of his fingers laced with yours—everything was perfect.

This was perfect.

Your shadows danced against the wall as he moved, starlight and gleam of the evening before you painting a scene so intimate—so… real.

The roll of his hips against yours brought you back into that lull of his name, his head buried into your neck. His breath was shaky against your skin—deep, breathy groans, the very sound of them shooting straight to your core, and you held each other tightly. Closer than close. As close as you could be; as close as you always wanted to be. The scent of your arousal remained heedy in the air as he claimed you, his strokes slow and deep, the steady rhythm enough to have your eyes rolling back into your head.

“H-hnngh, feels… Feels so good,” you whispered, clawing against his back, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him.

“Mhm? It does, huh?”

He'd plant kisses over your neck, dizzying whispers of sweet nothings into your ear.

“You're so pretty f'me, my lady,” he rasped. “So good around me… Taking me so well, haaahh, god—mmh, fuck—”

Hushed, muffled moans into kisses, into your skin, echoed with the soft, slow, pap, pap, pap, of his hips against yours.

And you felt it build.

“M'gonna cum,” you whined, and your hands found themselves buried into his hair, his head sneaking down to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Mmmhh. Go 'head, milady. Cum for me.”

With a final, deep breath, you shattered under his touch, crying out in ecstasy as your body convulsed around him. It was then that Jeremiah released you with a little wet pop, panting above you, his own thrusts becoming more sporadic.

He felt the way you clenched over him, the groan falling from his lips a melody that made your head spin.

“‘Miah,” you murmured, dizzy. “‘Miah, c'mon, c'mon…”

A word from you had him collapsing into your body, holding you tight, stilling as he spilled into you. You felt the pulse of his cock, hot liquid filling you to the brim, the scent of sweat and slick lingering in the air.

“I love you,” he mumbled again. It was something like a whine this time, a little less controlled, a little more… vulnerable.

Just as you had been.

You stroked his hair, falling back into a rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, breathing in time with the beat of your heart.

Your eyes closed, for a moment.

“Can I hold you?” you whispered. “Let's just… stay like this, for a while.”

“Mhm.”

“We can… get dinner later…”

“Mhm...”

You smiled.

“‘Miah?”

“...Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess. Always.”

an : a lot of a more personal piece, hence the insane amounts of self-indulgence laced into this fic <3 took me forever to decide which of my lnds cast i wanted to use for this, but eventually settled on jem based on the pure fact that he is the most realistically my type (zayne being ideal, xavier being fictional) LMAO <3 may has been a hard month (it tends to be) and i wanted to get this out as june starts, so !! happy june, everyone~~~

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

#love & deepspace smut #love and deepspace smut #l&ds smut #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace jeremiah #love & deepspace x reader #love & deepspace jeremiah #jeremiah smut #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah x you #ʚɞ*.ﾟ. lnds #✿˖°. roxiefic #divider by cafekitsune

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coffeeflavoredcookies · 2 years

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I think it's very nice of Maggie to have written those last couple chapters specifically to make me happy (yes I just reread my fave moments)

#greywaren #greywaren spoilers #well not really but to be safe #maggie really said you know what im really gonna give this bitch everything she wants #like Declan and Ronan hugged how to be normal about THAT ive been waiting for it since trb ehchwhxjsj #and PYNCH #and GANSEY #AND THE LYNCH BROTHERS DISCOVERED THEY WERE FRIENDS ONCE MORE #i hope i never get over the JOY all these moments brought me #ill suffer through all the niall and mor failed redemtion arcs just for these beautiful moments all over again #well actually I DID like Niall as a character but him loving Declan didnt make him any less of a shit dad but whatever ill let Deklo have-#this if it makes him happy #i sure wouldve loved to see the other side of it all tho 👀#like Ronan realising some shit and his reaction to that #specifically to the part where your dad was kinda super terrified of you and now that you think of it it seems obvious and Niall said ronan #like he meant something else like poison etc etc #and the big ouchie thatll follow 👀👀#like yeah I know they ALL have a lifetime of trauma to unpack already but Im just saying thats some delicious angst right there #anyway these tags are getting long and its past my bedtime ill shut up now #lily rambles

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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. the damage is done.

about. when satoru decides that he wants you (his ex) back, his foolproof plan starts off by making your new partner extremely insecure..

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, non canon, toxic relationships, love bombing, exes to lovers, gaslighting, infidelity, cheating, breeding, fingering, multiple orgasms, couch sex, oral sex ( f! receiving ), unprotected sex, ex boyfriend!gojo, fem!reader.

ex!gojo who slides into the dms of your current partner to slowly make them insecure.

he acts like a nice guy, offers advice on what to do when you’re mad, what you like to eat, how to keep you all sedated and happy. your current partner starts to gush about how cool of a dude satoru gojo is. how could you pass up on such an amazing guy? he’s rich, funny, caring — they can see how you fell for him.

but what they don’t understand is the greedy side of satoru — the one who one who wanted you all to himself. the guy who never let you go out, who made you cry but made you cum with the promise of never hurting your feelings again.

sometimes the advice gets a little too specific. how does satoru know where you keep your sex toys for kinky nights of fun. why does he know the spot that makes you arch your back off of the sweaty sheets just like that? or how many fingers you like to take? or how long it takes before you start gagging on cock.

it makes your new partner insecure, gives them performance anxiety and ruins the vibes of your bedroom. they can’t communicate with you, at least not properly — it leads to fights that are all too familiar. conversations you’ve had with satoru before. your little insecurities and biggest fears are thrown into your face, things they know will hurt you deep down you. these are some of the first times you cry because of your new partner.

it’s all too familiar, these are things you’ve gone through before with your ex — the recognisable twinge in your chest and feeling of guilt after being gaslight is something you know all too well.

“he was right, you really are just a cry baby.” they say. “since he knows so much about you, maybe you should go back to fucking him.” which feels like a bullet to your heart because you’ve spent so much time proving to your partner that you’re over your ex and all the bullshit that satoru put you through. all the drama and all the trauma he left you with.

your partner leaves for the night, leaving you alone with your tears and the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s all satoru’s fault. it goads you into calling him, his number which you blocked but kept written down in your notes app in case of emergency. it’s been forever since you last spoke to your ex and told him you wanted nothing to do with him — so you’re surprised when he picks up on the second ring, seemingly happy to hear your voice.

“what did you do, satoru?” his name on your tongue is foreign yet also familiar. you’ve said it a million times before, in many different ways (lust, love and loss) but this time you’re angry. like the last time you spoke.

“what do you mean?”

he plays coy and you feel your temper bubble. “we got into a fight, i know it’s your fault. what did you say to them?”

“shouldn’t you be making up with them?” gojo answers your question with a question, his all-knowing smirk transcending down the static on the line. “why was your first thought to call me?”

that makes you falter, stops your typhoon of rage in its place.

the truth is, you know why you called. deep down you know that gojo could fix this, when you fought as a couple you would always call him first and in tears — letting him calm you down. gaslighting you in the process. he always knew what to say to scab over the wounds of your arguments, patching over deep cuts with little white lies even if he would reopen them and leave mental scars in place.

when you fight with your partner now, you seek the same sort of unhealthy comfort in the only person who you know will give it you and that’s exactly what satoru wants.

“let me come over,” he states, suave. “let me help you fix this.” he takes advantage of your emotional torment, butters you up with the promise of comforting you and against your better judgement — you let him. your partner abandoned you, satoru wants to help you. you’ve always known that he still loved you, at least he wouldn’t leave, at least he’s not like your partner.

regret will come in the morning, you think, when you let satoru into your apartment and back into your life. he knows that everything on the walls are different, the picture frames are now brown instead of white and hold photos of your current life in place of what you had with your ex. the furniture has moved and the diffuser at the entryway smells different. but as much as you’ve tried, you can’t get rid of your ex, satoru gojo. he will always make his way back to you.

he makes sure that you’re aware of this when he kisses you on the couch that you kept from your previous relationship. satoru tells you that you’ll always need him when he pins your hips to its leather with a strong arm and buries his white head of hair between your warm, thick thighs. he proves it to you with the way that his tongue licks broad strokes against the entire length of your sex and flicks at your clit because he knows that how you like you it, he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he eats you out like that.

there’s going to be a stain in the couch from just how much more you gush on satoru’s skilled fingers and tongue, as he moans against your sopping mound and tells you how he’s the only one who could ever make you see stars this way. his face gleams with your arousal and his eyes sparkle knowingly because it’s true. you’ve never felt as good as you have with satoru in comparison to anyone else. it puts doubt in your mind, makes you question why you even left him in the first place.

though, you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought…because in hurried yet precise movements — gojo is making you cum on his fingers again. the rough pad of his thumb possessively writes the letters of his name against your pulsating clit — hardened by blood that rushes to it, carrying lustful hormones from your frenzied mind. he loves how you taste when you cum, how you cling to him, how he knows that you’ll never forget this phenomenalfeeling after tonight.

it’s a little too intimate for two exes when satoru makes you ride him. his legs spread wide while you straddle his lap, creating the perfect angle for his cock to nudge against that one special pleasure spot inside of you. you’ve missed his cock, it’s perfect length and thickness — it’s pretty pink tip that oozes so much precum that’s all for you. it’s only ever been for you.

the way satoru’s large palms cup the globes of your ass and guide you back and forth over his lap unlocks a nostalgic and loving feeling in your rapidly rising and falling chest. he kisses you with so much passion that you’re reminded of the good nights you spent with him — making love until sunrise while his tongue rolls over yours and licks at your teeth. you’re naked and chest to chest, noses becoming neighbours while the course of your breathing syncs up. it’s overwhelming, how adored you feel in the moment, all while fucking your ex on the couch.

you grope at each other like it’ll be the final time you ever have sex like this. your hands settle at the base of satoru’s neck and his on your waist while you languidly move together in a salacious dance routine you’ve done so many times before. you’re perfect partners, it’s evident in the way you reward his throbbing cock with dribbles of your creamy arousal — droplets of soft white running down and catching on veins on his shaft.

“i’m always going to love you, baby,” satoru’s soft laments echo through the home you’ve made with your over lover — barely audible over his balls slapping against your peachy ass and your cunt selfishly squeezing down on him, squelching with every thrust. “i’m always gonna want you like this, even when we fuck up. e-even when we’re not together,” he growls and rambles, blissful blue eyes darting all over your face twisted with ecstasy and right down to where you paint him with arousal and suck him in so well. “fuuuck, i wanna cum…s-say you want it, say you want me.”

it’s overwhelming, how much love you have for satoru. for your ex. it washes over your feelings of guilt in regard to your infidelity, any bad emotion or thought of your partner cannot compare to the burning and bright lust that flickers in your tummy. when you fuck yourself down on gojo’s throbbing girth he pulls back out of your snug, salacious sex — creating a delicious cycle of friction that you never want to forget. that you miss so bad.

“i want…i want you!” you stutter, tears brewing in your starry eyes. “i miss you, i love you,” the words rush out of you before your hazy mind can even catch up and register them. you barely manage to register that you’re fucking your ex just mere hours after arguing with your special one. it doesn’t matter, not right now and not in this moment. not when satoru teases your clit until you’re able to cum all over him, painting his thighs with your slick as you slump against him.

even though he shouldn’t, even though he’s ruined your relationship, gojo cums inside your quivering cunt. fills you to the brim with his viscous, scorching seed and there’s so much of it that it seeps from your entrance — pooling okto the couch below.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“come back to me, baby.”

“i…i don’t know if i can…”

you want to so badly, especially the damage is done, sealed by stolen kisses that’ll mean nothing in the morning.

satoru’s gotten what he wanted, to make you question your relationship and remind you of why you should come back to him. you fell asleep an intertwined mess on the couch and he leaves in the early hours of the next day.

all so that your current partner will never know the events that occurred on the night of your fight — you don’t have to heart to tell them when they come back the next morning with your favourite flowers and an apology. they shouldn’t have left you. they shouldn’t have gone to satoru behind your back. they love you.

but it’s already too late, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind by your ex. you release that you still want him, that you might even miss him and the foundation of your new relationship becomes shaky and unstable.

you’ve grown insecure and you will always be comparing your current partner to your last partner. to gojo.

and your lover? now they’re insecure too, because you’re always so distant and you always smell a little different when you come home these days.

because you’ve started going behind their back to be with your ex, satoru, too.

#tteokdoroki #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk thirsts #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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walpu · 3 months

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pre-relationship stage with them

characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country

Gepard

Poor poor Geppie.

He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.

I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.

"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!"

"I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend to care about y/n.

Sure, Gepard. Sure.

He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.

Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.

Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.

Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.

If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.

Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.

Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.

Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.

He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.

Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.

Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.

If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.

Loves giving you head pats.

Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.

Aventurine

Good lord.

This man is such a mess.

Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.

You have to be patient with him okay.

I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.

But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.

Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.

I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit after realizing how much you actually mean to him.

Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.

Even if it's scary.

Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.

Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.

It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.

On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.

Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.

Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.

Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.

Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.

Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.

Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.

LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.

Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #gepard #gepard landau #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #walp's writing

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meiieiri · 4 months

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

#geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto angst #geto x you

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luvjunie · 1 year

Text

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

#miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales #miles g morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #prowler miles fanfic #earth 42 miles fluff

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missroki · 4 months

Text

SAY ‘I LOVE YOU’┊for weeks you’ve tried (and failed) to tell your boyfriend that you love him for the first time. as fate would have it, your annual summer camping trip is coming up and your friends desperately want to meet him. a serene lake side might be the setting you need to finally tell him how you feel.

content: sickeningly sweet fluff, smut, not canon leaning, female! reader x geto suguru, established relationship, reader is hinted to have sexual trauma, skinny dipping, intimate conversations regarding romance, piv sex, no power dynamics really, reader is called baby and sweetheart, all lowercase. word count: 4.3k

it’s late afternoon by the time you arrive, the last of the group to make it if you were to guess. the sunlight streams through steadily growing trees, leaves growing denser with thick, sturdy trunks. the closer you get to the campsite the less busy the roads become; winding and bending as you make your way to the lake side.

the ac in your 2003 subaru is no match for the early summer heat and even with all the windows down, it still leaves a layer of sweat on your skin; your tank top sticking to your back. when you feel a palm squeezing your thigh, you glance over at your boyfriend on the other side of the car. suguru has an easy smile on his face, eyes focused on the road. his other hand grips the steering wheel and keeps it steady.

"you’re quiet,” he murmurs, “don’t tell me the heat’s already gotten to you.” he has to raise his voice a bit, the wind and gentle radio in the background drowning him out.

"it might have," you tease, “or maybe i just don’t have anything to say. it’s beautiful here and i haven’t been back in a long time.” you reach over to palm the skin of his neck, feeling the way his hair sticks to it. you tuck suguru’s bangs into his top knot and he hums in appreciation.

there’s a gentle shake and you feel the car sputter along with the smell of oil burning as it wafts through the front seats. normal for your shitty little compact suv, but still troubling. your boyfriend distracts you with a soft laugh. “what’s so funny?” you ask, a teasing lift in your voice.

“nothing, nothing,” he replies, “it’s just that i’ve heard so much about this lake that i want to see it already. if only we hadn’t taken that detour…”

you let out a huff and pout beside him. “in my defense, i wasn’t aware that my navigation skills had gotten so rusty. i was a girl scout for seven years, you know.”

“oh trust me, sweetheart, i know. it’s the one hobby you never shut up about–“

you reach over to playfully slap at his chest, feeling the rumble of his laugh beneath your palm. he lifts the hand that was previously on your thigh to grip yours instead, tugging it into his lap in protest. “no hitting when i’m driving. when we get to the lake you can commit any and all domestic violence there.”

his thumb starts to caress your skin, placating you for now. “fine, but i get the first s’more! satoru always adds syrup and drizzles it on top and it tastes heavenly.”

“you’re both sick.”

“and you are a buzzkill. nothing wrong with a little extra artificial sweetner.”

“if i remember correctly it was two cavities last dentist visit, right– don’t pull away.” you try to anyway but his grip is strong, a smile on his face that tells you he’s purposely pushing your buttons.

“easy now, sweetheart. wouldn’t want me to crash into the sunset when we’re almost there.” he lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it. you try to ignore the way your heart beats against your chest. the words are right there on your tongue, waiting to be let out. i love you. i’m so happy you’re with me.

they don’t come, though, and you lean deeper into the passenger seat. “you’re lucky we’re dating. i would have left you on the side of the road miles ago.”

“and lose your passenger princess title? i doubt it.”

you shrug your shoulders, staring off into the forest as it encases your small car. if you looked close enough, hints of blue water would tease your vision. “i would have managed. a warm fire, pretty stars. i think you and the gas station attendant would have had a great time.”

“surely he wouldn’t have minded a large asian man soliciting on the property.”

“nah,” you smile, voice light, “of course not.”

a comfortable silence fills the car. the outside wilderness is vast, a large area of overgrown grass, leaves and roots. as you traverse deeper into the area you’re suddenly surrounded by the thick opening of the forest that breaks off and slopes down to where the lake rests. typically, a campfire would already be made in the center, circling the space with a large amalgamation of rocks; ashes littering the ground and causing the soil to dry up under your feet.

the absence of the others confuses you, throwing a glance at suguru at the same time he does you. where is everyone?

he pulls into the area that normally would be littered with tents and sleeping bags but you’re too confused to make him privy to this information.

you quickly shift your gaze throughout the campsite, looking for tufts of bright white hair or even a hint of styled blonde. the only sound you hear is from small critters and the gentle rush of water from a nearby stream. you don’t hear shoko’s laughter or nanami’s stern reprimanding. it’s silent. peaceful, but silent.

your boyfriend comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in an effort to calm your obviously racing mind. “they must be running late, too.” he reasons. “why don’t we set up and get the fire going, yeah?”

you nod, turning around to face him. his hair is now pulled up completely in a loose bun, tendrils tickling his cheeks from where they refuse to stay put. you fight the urge to tuck them away. “can we try calling them?”

he shakes his head, lifting up his phone to show the lack of cell service. “one step ahead of you.”

you sigh but ultimately nod, cracking your knuckles and shaking out your still tired legs. the drive had been a long one.

“alright then,” you breathe, “let’s get started.”

of course they got pulled over.

all that time spent paying off his parking tickets and gojo satoru has already gotten his license revoked again. you groan into the receiver, suguru holding the phone to your ear as you finish placing down the extra bags from the back seat of your car. you grab the phone with a mouthed ‘thank you’ and make your way to the pier once more.

after a few hours of no signal. you had managed to get a bar or two near the old wooden pier, tiny and definitely dangerous if not for the pillars holding it in place. you hear nanami sigh on the other line and you can practically hear the way he pinches his nose bridge.

“this is my fault, i shouldn’t have trusted him to make it all the way here. shoko started playing ice spice and apparently satoru decided it was time to ‘shake ass’ as he called it and–“

“you shook ass too, nanamin!” satoru yells in the muffled background.

“not the point, satoru!”

you bend down briefly to toss a pebble across the deep blue water, trying your best to stay angry but coming up with merely surface level disappointment. you let out a sigh, feeling familiar hands gripping your waist and pulling you into a strong front. suguru nuzzles into your neck, placing a warm kiss to your salty skin. innocent, gentle.

“when will you guys be getting here?” you ask, trying to ignore the way two thumbs rub into the soft flesh at your waist.

“hopefully by tomorrow. they let us off with a warning but since none of us are on satoru’s insurance they’re being difficult. tell suguru we’re sorry for the inconvenience. we really wanted to meet him.”

the man in question bites down gently into your neck, a sharp breath involuntarily leaving your mouth. “o-oh,” you swat at him half heartedly, “i’m sure he’s fine.”

“seriously, let him know we’ll be there bright and early. we can even bring those canned sausages you like so much…”

nanami’s voice drifts further and further away as your hand slowly falls from your ear. you turn your head to meet suguru’s waiting lips, gently pecking as his hot tongue teases at the seam of your mouth. you pull back with a whine. “baby, i’m on the phone.”

“hang up.” he goes back to sucking and kissing down the expanse of your neck, the skin exposed in the tank top you’re wearing. you quickly lift the phone to your ear.

“–and realistically if we take the short cut we will be there much faster, but who knows if traffic will hit since it’ll be a sunday–“

“n-no worries, see you then!”

you hang up and toss the device onto the deck, the screen reflecting against the lake as it catches the sunlight; shimmery gold underneath deep oranges and reds.

you turn around and lift suguru’s chin so that his lips once again meet yours. his hands move to squeeze your ass over your jean shorts in large handfuls. “you look so pretty,” he murmurs, “it’s hard keeping my hands off you when i can see the outline of your nipples in that shirt.” his right hand is sandwiched etween you two, easily popping open the metal button of your shorts and unzipping them.

you let out a gasp once you realize that his hand is traveling lower, reaching down to grab his wrist. “fuck, sugu, wait. i’m all sweaty.”

he hums in your mouth, biting down on your lip. “you know that doesn’t bother me. just spread your legs, sweetheart.”

you feel heat rising in your neck and face. “b-but that bothers me and i don’t– fuck–” suddenly it feels a little harder to breathe, your heart pumping faster from not arousal but fear. you probably seemed so childish. he’d touched you there plenty of times before and you didn’t want to disappoint him but—

“shh, no baby, it’s okay.” he goes to remove his hand, your wrist still firmly holding his. “we can stop… we can stop.”

you slowly release your hold on him, watching as suguru cautiously fixes your clothes where he previously displaced them. “i’m sorry,” you murmur, “i’m just stressed and–“

suguru pulls you close, letting your forehead rest in his neck. you immediately wrap your arms around him. he is warmth and security, love and adoration. you know that he knows you aren’t afraid of him, but someone from long ago, a dark stain in your otherwise clear memory.

“hey,” he says, his face breathing in the soft coconut scent of your hair. suguru wonders if you know that everytime you embrace him it feels like the first. “wanna make me one of those famous s’mores?”

“really?” you ask, eyes shiny with unshed tears. when one falls, his thumb lifts up to catch it. to catch you.

“yeah.” he murmurs. “really.”

after a round of sickenly sweet s’mores made by yours truly (with less syrup to show suguru some hint of mercy) and a cuddle by the fire — you decide to turn in for the night — leaving your boyfriend to his own devices as he stares up into the night sky.

you can tell that not a lot of time has passed because the fire pit still emits warmth when you step out of your tent and slip on your flip flops. you lift your arms up into the sky and expose your midriff with a yawn.

one glance around the campsite and you don’t see a familiar head of dark hair anywhere, even squinting into the tree line to see if he’d decided to go off on his own and do god knows what.

you aren’t worried per say, just missing him like any normal girlfriend would be. you wanted to cuddle into his chest and feel his strong arms wrap around you again.

the pier is illuminated by an automatic light that’s yellowed with age. you move a little closer and see a heap of something left on the very edge of it. as you make your way to it, avoiding loose branches and leaves, you realize that it’s a familiar white t-shirt and black sweatpants. it’s only then that you hear the gentle sound of water breaking a few feet away.

suguru rises up with a sigh, back turned towards you. his hands reach up to push back strands of dark hair that you assume were clinging to his face. even under the dim moonlight and turned away from you, he’s alarmingly beautiful.

he wades backwards, letting his body float as he rests on his back. you can see the way his nipples pebble under the chilled night air, the strong muscles in his core keeping him afloat, the outline of his soft cock between his thighs. his hair creates a dark halo as it moves freely around his head. if suguru’s aware of your presence, he doesn’t show it.

you take in a sharp breath at the view in front of you. you’ve seen suguru naked plenty of times before but his stark nakedness still catches you off guard.

you’d only skinny dipped once before, and you immediately left the water once you realized it was freezing. making up your mind before you can back out, you start to remove the layers of clothing on your body. your tank top and shorts, then your panties.

when you ease yourself into the water, you don’t cause much of a ripple. it’s weirdly warm as it encases your body, or it might just be that the air challenges it.

you make your way to suguru and stop once you reach his head. your touch is gentle against his cheeks and your suspicions of him knowing you were there are confirmed when he doesn’t even flinch.

“miss me?” he asks smugly, pools of brown staring up at you. you let your thumbs caress his cheeks, lean down to press your forehead to his.

“hardly.”

suguru moves then, lifting himself up and turning around. even in the semi-shallow waters he towers over you.

his hands find purchasa on your waist and your arms wrap around his neck. he pulls you in close so that your face rests there too. suguru travels down your body to grip your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his tapered waist.

for a while, you let yourself melt against him, the water gently swaying you both closer to the pier. you think about the way his heart beats against yours, how gentle but secure his grip on your thighs are. geto suguru was everything you wanted in a man; smart, understanding, beautiful, kind. so suffocatingly kind. you imagine a world when his light does not shine as bright and a sour taste enters your mouth.

as if sensing your shift in attitude, suguru turns his head and gently kisses your temple. thin drops of water fall from the tip of his nose and down your cheek. he lifts you up a little to prevent your hair from getting wet. “what’s wrong, baby?”

“nothing,” you breathe, “i’m just… thinking.”

he hums, his hands moving up to cup just underneath your bottom. he angles you back a little to make eye contact. you look up at him with what you imagine are heart eyes and your fingers link at the nape of his neck.

“uh oh.” he briefly teases, “penny for your thoughts?”

you shrug a little. “i just…” you pause, the words bubbling in your throat. you try to push past the anxiety that creeps up in your chest. you’d been dating for a few months now, there was nothing wrong with feeling the way you did. you just— “…don’t want to scare you away.”

he considers this for a moment, and places another kiss on the tip of your nose. “if your coma-inducing syrup s’mores didn’t do the trick then i doubt anything else could.”

“you haven’t had one of my root beer floats yet.”

“ah, is that the killing blow?”

“it’s more a sampler, if you will.”

he smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “then i’m more than happy to die at your hands.”

you giggle, and move one of your hands to rest on his chest. “careful, geto suguru, people might think you love me with those words.”

you regret your own as soon as you say them, your gaze flickering down to the hand still on his chest. you try your best to recover. “n-not that i’m saying that–“

“i love you?” he offers.

god, it sounds worse when he put it out there. “right! i would never just assume–“

“what if i did?”

“what?”

he brings a hand to your chin, making you look into his eyes. there’s an intensity there that you only saw back home, when he’d visit your apartment and spend the night between your legs. he asks again, “love you. what if i did?”

you’re certain he feels the way you shiver against him, breaths just barely fluttering from you lips. you swallow nothing as your mouse dries. “w-well, i–“ you pause, trying your best to not shy away from your own emotions. “i would…” you trail off but you’re unable to spiral fully because he’s right there, like he always is, ready to catch you.

“it’s okay,” he breathes out your name like it’s a prayer, “you can tell me.”

you smile warily. your voice is quiet, barely a whisper and heavy with the tears you feel building behind your eyes. “i’m scared.” not of him, but of the weight behind the three worded confession. he nods, understanding as his hand cups your cheek.

“i know you are, sweet girl. i am, too. but… i know what i feel for you. i know that i love you.”

you can feel his heartbeat quicken under your palm at his admission. you can’t help but feel relieved, your lips just barely an inch away from one another. i love you, you think. i love you, i love you—

“i love you.”

an overwhelming warmth lights up in your chest, your anxiety melting away. your heart pounds and your mind fills with techno-color. it wakes up your nerves in a fizzling, vivid array of sparks.

suguru’s hot, yielding mouth is familiar as it melds to your own, pulling you closer as your hands instinctively tangle in his hair. it’s dried enough that it curves for you easily, your grip firm as you tug at it. he groans and you almost tug harder to hear it again.

you’re only teasing, not trying to start anything particularly heated, but then you shift in his arms and feel the gentle twitch of his hard cock against your mound, breaking away from the kiss when he moans involuntarily. you see the red that trickles up his cheeks.

“shit,” he pants, “fuck, i’m sorry. ‘m a little overwhelmed. we can stop–“

“i don’t want to,” you breathe, “please… don’t let me go.”

you feel him press against you gently, hips moving on their own so that you know he craves you even unconsciously. wanting. “never,” he promises. “i won’t let you go.”

he’s back to kissing you, tongue infiltrating your mouth in a sloppy mess. it’s all tongue and lips but you let him lead you, guide you to where you meet in the middle.

“w-we probably–” your voice catches as his lip attack the base of your throat, “we probably shouldn’t fuck in here.”

you feel your boyfriend’s laugh before you hear it and quicker than you can blink, he’s lifting you out of the water, up the shore of the lake to bypass the pier. you thank whatever deity that your friends are miles away from this place.

when you feel your back laid against a plush sleeping bag, you open your eyes to suguru hovering over you. he drags his hands down the planes of your plush stomach, back up again to the soft mounds of your breasts. you whine at the feeling of him tweaking your sensitive nipples. “you’re perfect, you know that?” he leans down and finishes what he started hours earlier, littering your neck in dark splotches. you pull him closer so that his shaft drags between your folds, collecting your arousal to bump against your clit. it drips between your thighs. “absolutely perfect for me.”

you feel his fingers glide down your stomach once more before reaching your hot entrance, making skilled strokes against your clit that have you spasming underneath him. “fuck.” you whimper, hearing the wet slaps of his fingertips smearing against your cunt. you barely register the way suguru licks a stripe up your neck and wraps his tongue around your ear. how he nibbles at the sensitive lobe.

“you love me, baby?” he breathes, “want me to make you feel good?”

you nod hurriedly, gripping his shoulders. “i need you, sugu, want you to make me cum.”

he moves his fingers faster, knowing just how to rub you to make you fall over the edge. “go ahead and let go, sweet girl. get yourself ready for me.”

it doesn’t take long for you to cum, your hole tightening and clenching around nothing as he helps your ride out the high with a deep kiss. he watches you closely to make sure you don’t crash, pressing kisses to your cheeks and eyelids as you tense up underneath him. “let me know if it’s too much, we can stop if you need me to.”

you shake your head, the euphoria you feel dispelling the shadows that sometimes linger in the back of your mind. “n-no i’m okay… i’m okay now.”

he nods, lining up his hard length to your entrance as you wrap your legs around his waist. suguru pushes into you gently, letting you get used to the stretch. you both moan in unison, his body hot and imposing on top of you as he tries his best to keep his composure. it’s suguru, you remind yourself. you want him. you love him.

you try to relax your muscles like your therapist told you, pulling your boyfriend closer until he is fully sheathed with a guttural moan. “h-holy shit,” he stutters, trying his damndest not to cum on the spot. you bury your hands into the hair that curtains you both.

“make love to me, sugu.” you whisper into the night, your words heard only by your lover and the fireflies. “please.”

“i will, baby.” he pulls you even closer if that’s possible. “i will.”

he thrusts in and out of you at a slow but hard pace, your gasps and whimpers egging him on as he pushes you deeper into the sleeping bag. your cunt sucks him in so eagerly that he can barely see straight, moving to grab your hands from his shoulders to loosely intertwine your fingers. his grip has just enough give that you could remove them if you wanted to. he was always aware of you, of your limits.

“you like it, don’t you?” he teases. “how full of you i get when my cock is buried in this perfect pussy?”

you preen underneath him at the praise, eyes filling with tears. you try to speak but the words are garbled. what sounds like a yes falls from your lips.

“yeah, you do. it’s why you always show me off, bringing me here to meet your friends. you want them to know i’m yours.”

your hips buck up into his and suguru increases his pace, your breasts jiggling with each powerful thrust. he grunts with each tight muscle that clamps down on him as he plows into you — your sweet nectar matting the trimmed hair at his base.

“well i’m yours, baby. have been s-since the first day i met you– oh fuck!”

your hands squeeze his, looking up at him with blurry vision. he is just as beautiful as he has always been, you are weakened by it. you purposefully squeeze down hard on his cock, choked gasp leaving both of your mouths as he finds your g-spot.

“i love you, suguru. i love you.”

he practically pins you under him, arms wrapping your shoulders and back as he nuzzles into the side of your neck. “again,” he begs, “tell me again.”

you let out an almost delirious laugh. “i love you — fuck —! I l-love you.”

you feel a familiar pressure build in your stomach, hands clawing at the soft skin of his back and the muscles beneath it. you don’t have much warning to give, and neither does he, your orgasm coming suddenly as his hips sloppily knock into yours until—

you both let go, hot spurts of his cum coating your walls as he moans and whimpers. suguru takes a deep inhale of your scent, the familiar coconut causing another pump of his release to spill inside you.

“holy shit.” he breathes, lifting himself up to look you in the eyes. he takes in the fucked out expression on your face, the pure euphoria in your features. he leans in to steal your breath away with a kiss, gentle and languid. he whispers your name into your mouth. “I love you,” he parrots, “I’ve always loved you.”

the next morning, when your friends arrive and you get ready for a day of hiking, they don’t fail to notice the way you two are attached at the hip. you’re engay in the conversation, sure, but you’re also laughing to yourselves as if you knew a secret that they didn’t.

you think you’re hiding it well but the discoloration on your neck is a dead giveaway. they aren’t angry, though, never having seen you so happy and in love.

it’s what you deserve and you know better than anyone that suguru is willing to give it all to you. you just hope he continues to hold you gently. that if you break he is willing to pick up the pieces. that your moments of fragility don’t scare him away.

you’re afraid and worried about the future. but suguru tells you that love is an active choice, a choice that led him to you. that love is a beautiful kind of fear and he will take the leap as many times as you need him to.

you don’t have to tell him that you’re already prepared to fall.

note: this is my favorite story i’ve ever written. it’s been very healing for me to revisit it and post it here on this new blog. if it resonates with you in anyway, know that i’m holding your hand and hoping that your road to healing gets easier over time. it isn’t your fault and you’re worthy of love. always and forever.

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x female reader #geto x black reader #geto smut #geto fluff #suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #angelshubnetwork

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babygirl-riley · 7 months

Text

Building a Home

Simon’s mom tells him if the life he would have, Simon will come to see she was right.

“This is a place where I don’t feel alone. This is a place where I feel at home.”

A/N: Listen will never stop thinking of stories with her art @ave661 😭✋🏼

Warnings: fluff, angst, childhood trauma, trauma, soft!simon, small mentions of smut, mentions of death, husband!simon, dad!simon, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

“Simon,” Simon turned to look at his mom. Her gray hair coming out more as so her wrinkles. Simon came over to her home to visit before he had to leave for deployment. He hummed to let her know he heard her. She placed her tea down before turning fully to him. “You need to find ya a girl.”

Simon rolled his eyes, topic of conversation after Tommy had Joseph. “Mum,” He moaned setting his tea next to her on the shared table next to them. She loves sitting out on her porch in the middle of the day. It felt nice during the fall, where the weather would be that nice warm that would go to cold eventually. “We ‘ren’t talking ‘bout this.”

“We need to,” She chuckled. “Ya not gonna stay old for long.”

Simon shook his head. “Mum really I don’t need a woman.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh I didn’t realize that it wasn’t women,” Simon raised an eye brow to her. “I always thought it was only women.”

Simon choked on his tea. “No it’s not that mum,” He groaned rolling his eyes. “Probably would be easier.” He mumbled.

She chuckled. “It’s the same no matter if it was a man or woman,” They both chuckled before she sighed. “Really Simon, you need to find you a young lady. Would love to see both my sons married. That they would be taken care of.”

Simon sighed. “Right now isn’t the time.”

His mom looked at him and nodded. “It will come without you knowing it.”

Simon didn’t believe her when she said that. Especially when she died he didn’t believe her. No one could love Simon Riley, he was a cold hearted monster. Who’s hands weren’t as innocent as it was then. No one would want to touch him to become as dark as he was.

Simon barely got close to anyone, too afraid of losing someone. It always happened, nothing went right for Simon. Once he got close or happy it would be snapped away from him, like he didn’t deserve it. So why put himself in a situation where he could potentially get close?

At work Johnny would try to be friends with him but he would bat him off. Still Johny does of course taking it as a challenge but Simon is a stubborn one. Price even warned Soap about how he might be buried if he kept trying. New recruits would call him ‘SUTA’ which he figured out it was ‘stick up the ass.’

So he never believed his mother no woman would love a man that was considered a cold hearted man that couldn’t be thawed. Which he was fine with, he loved being alone. He got used to being alone.

Yet you came along for the ride. You were this woman that came up to him at a grocery store, asking for help to reach an item. You weren’t scared of him. Timid. You made eye contact, curiously watching him. Simon even didn’t say a word as he did the service for you. It didn’t even make him bat an eye at you until; you made a joke about how short you were saying there wasn’t counters to hop on.

Simon then joked with you about how you could have climbed the shelves like a monkey. You laughed, making his stomach turn and his heart beat faster. Both of you talked in the aisle until you said that both of you should finish the conversation with a drink. Simon agreed.

“Ya always say that.” He grumbled grabbing his tea once more.

His mom grabbed her tea as well taking a sip. “That’s what happened with Tommy.”

Simon sighed, before looking forward at the scenic view. “Tommy is a better man mum.”

“Says the one who got him out of his rut,” She mumbled eyeing him. “Says the one who cut their father out his life including his families,” Simon looked at her narrowing his eyes. “Don’t you dare say that ya are not Simon Riley.” Simon sighed looking away. “Ya too hard on yourself.”

Simon took a sip of his tea. “Well it is what it is.”

“Ya stubborn is what that is.” She commented chuckling. “Ya get it from me.”

Simon huffed amused. “Lucky me.”

It was silent for a moment. “I’m gonna say this last time Simon,” She spoke looking at him. “Ya gonna have a beautiful wife that can handle ya stubborn mind, with a beautiful baby that will get that stubborn head, and a beautiful house.”

Simon chuckled. “Will I get a stubborn mutt too?”

“Oh you would have to,” Both of them laughed as she smiled at him. “Ya come to me to thank me. To say I was right.”

Simon didn’t expect it. Just his team, your family, him, and you. The wedding dress close to your body, the smile plastered on your face. The tears slipping out of his eyes as you walked towards him.

You looked like you came from heaven itself. Your hair curled just the way you liked it, the make up simple and barely noticeable, and that fucking smile. Happy. You kept up with his stubborn ass for 5 years before he proposed.

5 years of being patient with him, he wasn’t the best boyfriend at the beginning. He didn’t know how to be. Physical touch was never a thing for a very long time. You thought at first he hated you but realized that the other things he did showed his care. He didn’t even kiss you until 9 months into the relationship. He didn’t say I love you, the actual sentence until 3 years in the relationship. You both didn’t have sex until 7 months into the relationship.

What did you do? Nothing. You understood, you didn’t ask to touch him or interact with it until he did. His pinky grabbing yours while walking inside a mall. That would eventually go to him wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You would only kiss his cheek or forehead until he would grab your cheeks and plant his lips on yours. You would say I love you to him first naturally but he would respond by I know. It wasn’t until you both were watching the stats on a hill before he turned to you saying I love you. You never pressured him to have sex, you would make out and once it got heated he would stop. Apologizing. You would shake your head and place a kiss on his cheek. Until he finally wanted to, you would make sure it was okay every step.

You were patient with his “stubbornness,” at least that what he would think. Until one day you told him it wasn’t stubbornness it was his boundaries. Once those words left your mouth he knew he was in love with you. You loved him for him. It wasn’t perfect at times but you always came back and so did he. When he proposed to you, it was private.

You came home from work and being pent up you wanted Simon to do whatever to you. He fucked you senseless that night then drew a warm bath. You both were laying in the suds of the warm bath lights dimmed as he had you lean against his chest.

“Marry me.” He whispered kissing your neck softly.

At first you laughed cause you both had the conversation that he didn’t want to marry. “Okay Simon.”

Simon turned your head to him. “No dove marry me.”

It was another moment of silence as she sighed. “Even if your kid is stubborn they will be the kindest.” She added standing up. He watched her get up looking at her. “The thing I never thought that would happen because…” She paused looking away for a moment. “Because of your father, you became the kindest loving person Simon. You may deny it. But your child will always think and know that you are their hero.”

“I don’t know. Maybe one day.” He mumbled.

“You wait Simon your kid will be happy to see you come home from work again and again. That’s what ya did when I came home when you were a toddler,” He chuckled as he shook his head. “Ya did! You would yell mummy mummy look look! Show me some rock you found out in the back. Still have it.”

Simon laughed. “Ya have that thing?”

“Yep,” She chuckled rocking in the chair she was in. “On my vanity. But when that happens you will get just as excited. Yell with ‘em.”

Simon walked into the door as Riley stood by him. Price gave him the dog because of good infiltration missions, search and rescue, and bomb sniffing. Why he chose Simon to have the dog? Sole purpose because he knew that the wife wanted him and cause his name is Riley. Why wouldn’t they keep him?

When he opened the door, the squeal of delight burst into his ears. You laid on the floor with yours and his daughter. She bounced in her butt as she reached up with grab me motion. Simon’s heart did flips as a smile showed on his face. “There are my angels.” He said reaching down to hold his daughter close placing a kiss on her head.

“Daddy daddy,” He heard pattering feet running down the hallway. The oldest running with a paper in hand. “Look look,” She shoved the paper up showing Simon, in his skull mask holding hands with you with a belly, her and the baby. “Dats all of us!”

“I see that,” He said chuckling. “We look pretty good.” The potato drawing stage has been his favorite art style. Has one in his office as we speak of Riley and him.

You got up, he noticed that you tummy was showing more the third one on the way. “You even showed my belly coming.” You joked looking up at Simon who went down for a kiss. Riley barked as his oldest went to give him a squeeze as he licked her face.

“How’s the hellins been?” He asked you kissing you again. The baby cooing as she played with his jacket.

“Hellins,” You smiled at him before placing your hand on your stomach. “This one’s especially can’t keep anything down.”

“Hm gonna have to give ‘er a long talk then.” Simon joked kissing your forehead.

The baby squealed again reaching for Riley. Your oldest laughing as she looked at both him and the baby. Riley’s tail was wagging as he patiently waited for Simon to show him the baby. You giggled as Simon sighed. “Can’t have a moment huh Ri? Have to see Allison after getting all the love from Millie?”

He barked as he got excited when Simon went to his knees. Riley walked up to his daughter licking her hand as she reached for him. Simon praised Riley as he was soft towards her, kissing his daughters head. Millie coming over to wrap her arms around his larger one. “Love ya daddy.”

“‘M not gonna be a husband nor a father mum.” He mumbled not looking at her.

“Why,” Simon shrugged and she scoffed as she looked at him. “You would never be like him,” Still didn’t say anything she frowned standing up cause him to look at her as she walked in front of him. “I do because ya father would never have kicked out someone that was hurting his family. Would never go visit his mum. Would never get his brother out of crowd he ran with. Would never play with his nephew. Would never serve his country,” She walked up to him to place a hand on his cheek. “And one day your wife will tell you and your kids will show ya how much of an amazing person you are,” Her eyes watered as she rubbed her thumb up and down. “And if you ever forget, it isn’t too late to remember.”

Simon never would have done this, never would go backwards. Too many memories too much pain. Yet when he mentioned that his mother’s birthday was coming close you mentioned to visit her. He would deny it and not say anything afterwards. Yet once the day become closer the thought became more inviting. More wanting to go.

After putting the girls to bed you both laid in the shared bed. He was more quiet that day as tomorrow was the day. You didn’t say anything about it kept going on like nothing was happening. You laid on Simon’s chest when he inhaled deeply. “Let’s have ya mum watch the kids,” He whispered. “Think I should visit my mum.”

You nodded as you melt closer to him. “You sure? I don’t have to come either.”

“I want ya there.”

Now he was here, standing in front of his family’s stones. Names engraved into them. Flowers in hand. Wind is the only sound hitting his ears besides the sound of his heart. You stood next to him looking down at the stone as well. Not saying a word. Being patient. Simon’s mind was racing rapid. “She was right ya know,” He mumbled quietly. You looked up at him giving a quizzed look. “Said that I would have the life I have. Yet I can’t tell her like she said I would.”

You looked back down at the stone before smiling, slowly grabbing his empty hand. “I think she knows Si.”

Simon inhaled deeply as tears filled his eyes. The mask hiding the trembled lip. You were right, she knew. She knew that the life she hoped that he would have came together piece by piece. Shaping the home that he gave for his loving wife and caring girls.

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daybrightsims · 3 months

Text

Alright, they've lived in my brain too long; Time to air out my thoughts about the polyamory in BG3

To give a little context: I am currently ethically non-monogamous with my primary partner of almost 7 years. I am not a monolith of thought when it comes to polyamory/ENM/open relationships. These are my own personal thoughts and feelings. I've also completed the game with Astarion and Halsin romanced. Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

TL;DR - I don't share the current opinion of whether or not Astarion is okay with Tav pursuing Halsin and the discourse around his agency and choices in the relationship are bumming me out and frustrating me.

I am getting increasingly frustrated about the conversation about Astarion being polyamorous/okay with Tav being with Halsin in the game, primarily because I think a lot of the "think pieces" are coming from 1) monogamous people who have only ever been monogamous, 2) monogamous people who have been burned/cheated on/forced into polyamory by a partner (I feel for ya'll, that wasn't okay), 3) people who are very VERY protective of Astarion, and 4) people who are blatantly uncomfortable with polyamory. My goal is not to invalidate anyone's experiences, but to share an alternate perspective.

I do think that Astarion is not only okay, but happy with Tav dating Halsin. I glean this from how he responds to being poly with ANY OTHER companion. If you ask him to share with literally anyone else, he will say no and give his reason.

Gale: He doesn’t want to be in a love triangle (which with Gale, it would be).

Lae’zel: He’s uncomfortable and Lae’zel would kill him (also true).

Wyll: He knows Wyll is old fashioned and monogamous.

Karlach: He knows Karlach’s feelings for you are strong and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that (he even says he’d be cool with an arrangement but knows Karlach will need all of your affection based on what she’s been through).

Shadowheart: He would be cool IF Shadowheart had more experience and ya’ll were together longer. But he knows Shadowheart is fragile in her current state.

Minthara: He REALLY doesn’t like this idea and will dump you immediately.

I did also see that ***SPOILER*** they updated or are updating some of the spawn Astarion language to have issues with your affair with Mizora should you pursue it, and it requires a persuasion/deception role to keep you two together.

Up to this point in your relationship with Astarion, he has become more comfortable voicing his opinions and concerns with you. He is learning to value his autonomy and his non-physical relationships. He will tell you when he doesn’t want to do something. In fact, he’ll break up with you over pushing his boundaries. He is fine with you pursuing the Drow twins and fine with you sleeping with Haarlep, even comforts you when Haarlep uses your form. So when he says he is okay with you pursuing Halsin, he means it. Yes, he voices his insecurity with you that you may be pursuing Halsin because you and he haven’t had sex in a while. But he acknowledges that Halsin has experience in this arrangement and doesn’t pose a threat to your relationship. Plus, if you kiss Halsin in front of him, he’ll say “don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show.”

To me, the idea that this is the ONE thing that Astarion doesn't have agency over in an arc of showing he can speak up for himself is you sleeping with Halsin is an idea that takes more agency from Astarion. He is a grown man. A 240 YEAR OLD man. That trauma he's endured does not mean he needs to be babied or coddled because he can't make his own choices. I think that's an unfair assumption to put on him that Halsin and Tav being together is the ONLY thing he can't enforce his boundaries on.

If he didn't want you to be with Halsin, he would say no like every other monogamous character in the game.

If you want a good example of someone saying yes just because they want to keep you, look at Karlach. You can tell she is HEARTBROKEN when you ask her, but she says “I don’t want to lose you”. That is not an enthusiastic participant in a polyamorous relationship. Astarion says “yeah, go for it! Just give me some reassurance”. Polyamory is not immune to insecurity. I've asked for reassurance in my own relationships and so has my primary partner. That’s not unenthusiastic. That’s realistic as shit. If you ask him about the relationship after you finish his questline, he doesn’t need reassurance because you’re having sex again. That’s also super realistic.

Am I sensitive to this as someone who practices ENM? Almost certainly. It's hard to see a lifestyle I live be villainized and claimed to be "forced" onto characters. I was actually really excited that I could pursue both Astarion and Halsin, and that Halsin places so much importance on consent and not misleading your partner. And it sucks SOO much to see one of my favorite characters be reduced to "oh, he's only doing it because he's afraid to lose Tav." It makes me almost feel bad for liking the interactions between them and enjoying to option. Do I think people mean to make me or other poly people feel bad? No.

But it does.

Headcanons are headcanons. I get it. People are absolutely allowed to interpret the poly aspect of BG3 how they want to. People are allowed to feel uncomfy with how it's portrayed and not pursue it. But it still bums a queer ENM Astarion and Halsin lover out.

Now excuse me whilst I live out my Astarion x Halsin x Tav polycule fantasies in the form of fanfiction.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 companions #spawn astarion #astarion #polyamory #enm #ethical non monogamy #halsin x astarion #act iii #halsin #monogamy

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m00nlight-ramblings · 3 months

Text

Touch Me

Repulsed by touch due to years of trauma, Astarion now wears gloves in his every day life. But once he starts to adventure with you, he slowly starts to rebuild his trust in others, when one night, he can't bare to not touch you any longer.

Pairings: Astarion x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, light discussion of trauma, swearing, fluff. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

Requested: yes

A/N: Okay so I got carried away with this one lol. Happy to be back writing some good ole BG3 smut teehee. Graphic made by me, I don't give permission for my work (graphic or writing) to be shared without my consent.

You hadn’t really noticed Astarion’s gloves before, for the first few days of adventuring. You figured that they were just for defense, to help keep his body safe in combat along the journey. You were also far too busy trying to figure out the whole tadpole-in-your-brain problem, along with the myriad of enemies seemingly popping out of nowhere, to be concerned with your camp companions’ fashion senses.

But one evening, when you were headed to the nearby creek to quickly wash yourself in a moment of calm, you stumbled upon a rock, covered in familiar looking clothing.

Astarion’s clothing.

His gloves laid on top of the bundle of clothes, the brown leather muted in the soft moonlight. You paused for a moment and turned to look out into the deep creek, and not even five feet away, Astarion stood.

You realized he was fully nude so you shrieked and turned around. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you were here!” You apologized profusely. You heard Astarion gasp behind you and the motion of water, feet padding over to the rock. Clothes started to shuffle and you heard Astarion murmur under his breath.

“…completely nude, as if my clothes on the rock weren’t a dead giveaway that I would be naked! Trying to bathe and have peace and quiet for one second this entire journey…”

“Look, I said I was sorry-” Without thinking you turned, but luckily Astarion was fully clothed, except for his gloves. He seemed more concerned with fixing his outfit than what you were saying, so you gently reached out to touch his wrist to get his attention. “I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t see anything, anyway-”

The second your fingers touched Astarion’s wrist, he shouted, ripping his arm back as if you had just shocked him.

“Don’t touch me!” He bellowed, his voice dark. It scared you for a moment and you stood absolutely still, silence hanging between you. Astarion didn’t even look at you, just down at his wrist, as if he had been burned.

“What…I’m sorry? Did something happen-”

“Just…don’t touch me,” His cool demeanor was back as he gracefully slid the gloves on, “Alright? Just…don’t.” He had finally looked up at you, his ruby eyes shimmering. His expression was unreadable, but you nodded slowly.

“Alright…I won’t.”

You stared at him for a bit longer, trying to understand what was going on in his head. Was it…fear? Rage? You weren’t quite sure…all you knew was that without meaning to, you had somehow crossed a boundary with Astarion, who was already like a vault.

Without another word, Astarion walked back to camp. You sighed heavily and eventually bathed, but the entire encounter was so odd that you didn’t quite know how to move forward with it.

The next morning, while the sun was still rising, Astarion found you by the campfire as you cooked your breakfast. Uncomfortably clearing his throat behind you, he seemed a bit sheepish. Wringing his wrists (clad in the gloves), he shifted the weight on his feet in his graceful, Astarion way.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” He asked. Nodding, you stood, wiping off your pants. Astarion stared at you for a minute, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. It was increasingly apparent that he didn’t know how to start the conversation, but you waited patiently, afraid you’d somehow set him off again.

“I…want to apologize for last night,” He eventually said, “The whole…situation…with my gloves, I mean. I…” He sighed, searching for words, “I have a hard time with touch. I have for a bit…because of my past with Cazador. When I woke up, thrown from that Nautiloid, I realized gloves made me feel better because I technically don’t have to touch someone when I…well, when I touch them. And since I was no longer under Cazador’s thumb, I snagged the first pair I could find off of…well…some poor dead body on the beach and it’s been better ever since.”

Taking in what he was saying, you nodded, staying quiet. “So…you wear gloves. Because you don’t like touch.”

“Quite frankly, I’m repulsed by touch,” He calmly replied, throwing a hand back, “200 years in a body that I had no control over will do that to you, I suppose.”

“Okay. That makes sense.” You said plainly, forking a piece of pork belly into your mouth.

Astarion tilted his head, confused. “It does?”

“Yes. I mean…I believe you, and everything.”

“You do.” He stated, but it sounded like more of a question, like he didn’t understand.

Shrugging, you nodded, “Cazador forced you to use your body against your will to do his tidings, and now that you have the ability to act for your own for the first time in a very long time, you realize that there are boundaries that make you feel more comfortable. It makes perfect sense.”

Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. “Well…look at you. Knowing so much about me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” You smiled and pat his shoulder gently, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I understand…and will be aware of it.” You go to walk away, but turn and look at Astarion, “I know what you’ve been through was unbelievably awful, so you don’t have to…but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone about it, I’m here for you.”

Astarion stood, frozen. He nodded so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it.

“Thank you.” He eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on the ground. In a flash, he was striding towards his tent, his hands behind his back, as if the conversation never happened. Watching him walk to his tent, you shook his head.

You knew Astarion was full of secrets, but you weren’t quite sure how deep those secrets went.

The following weeks had tore through your body harder than any training you had been through. Every night when you went to bed, it seemed like a body part you didn’t even know you had was aching.

Currently, you were a little way away from camp, leaning against a tree, trying to get any semblance of reprieve that you could. Your eyes were closed, but you were nowhere near sleep, as the crickets chirped around you.

“Darling?” Astarion’s voice called out gently. You waved your hand in the air so he could track you down.

“Over here.” You mumbled, your arm feeling like it was 600 pounds. You brought it back down to your side and sighed heavily. Suddenly, you smelled chicken. Opening your eyes slowly, you saw a plate of food in front of you. You followed the arm holding the food and saw that Astarion had knelt beside you, presenting the food.

“Dinner,” He spoke plainly, “Gale just finished cooking. I thought you could use some help since your ass was devilishly kicked by those goblins earlier today, so I brought dinner to you while you were resting.” He smirked as you took the plate of food, barking out a laugh.

“Funny that you just had to bring up the fact that I didn’t perform my best today.” You started to slowly bring the food to your mouth, the taste melting on your tongue. You moaned softly in pleasure – he never shut up, but gods, Gale cooked a good meal.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t perform my best, either.” Astarion sat beside you now, his back resting against the large tree. He sighed as well, leaning his head back.

In the past few weeks, ever since the evening you had accidentally touched his wrist, you two had become closer. You were the only one to know his secret, a vulnerable piece of the Astarion puzzle. He trusted you to keep his secrets safe, and you did – like you had said, that’s what friends were for.

You ate in a comfortable silence as Astarion stared up at the moon, his face gleaming in the soft glow. Though you two were friends, he was undeniably handsome – you found yourself looking at him longer than necessary, butterflies popping up in your stomach when he would come into your tent to just converse, or when he was next to you in battle. You didn’t know when it started to change, but slowly, your feelings had deepened, which scared the shit out of you. Even now, with no words exchanged, your head felt light as he sat beside you, his familiar scent comforting you.

“Beautiful moon out tonight.” Astarion commented softly. You murmured in agreement, placing the plate and fork next to you now that you were done eating.

“Were you able to hunt tonight?” You asked Astarion.

He chuckled, “Always looking out for me,” He spoke gently. He then turned to look at you, his face soft, “Yes. I did…earlier. Thank you for your concern.”

You laughed softly and shrugged, even though it took all of your effort. You closed your eyes again, “You know me. I need to make sure everyone eats, even if your version of eating is slurping up some boar blood somewhere-”

Suddenly, your hand felt like it was enveloped, and chilled to the bone. Your eyes sprung open and you looked down. Astarion was holding your hand in your lap.

Without his glove.

Your mouth parted in surprise as you looked at him in shock. “Astarion-”

“I know.” He interrupted, smiling proudly.

“You’re…holding my hand.”

“I know.”

“Without your glove!”

“I know.”

You smiled back at him. Both of you sat there in silence, smiling at each other like two goons. You didn’t know what to say, so you started to stutter.

“But…how? When? You’re…feeling-”

“Not with everyone,” He said, “But with you…it’s different. I went to bed last night, thinking about how I wanted to…feel you. Touch you. Really feel you…hold your hand. With mine. Skin on skin,” Suddenly, he turned sheepish and looked down, “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Mind?!” You sat on your heels, gripping his hand tighter, “Of course I don’t! I’m…excited for you! Proud of you! Hells, I-”

Suddenly, Astarion’s lips were on yours. Cold, but gentle – he pressed lightly and pulled away almost as fast. As he pulled away, he looked at you, his eyes uncertain.

“I hope…you didn’t mind that, either.”

A deep blush grew on your cheeks as you smiled and shook your head, “Definitely didn’t mind that.” Your voice was low, quiet. You knew this moment, though on the outside seemed so insignificant, was a monumental moment for Astarion.

He smirked and nodded, “Good. Because when I was thinking about how I wanted to hold your hand, I was also thinking about how I wanted to kiss you, as well.”

You leaned into him and kissed him, pressing your lips on his a little firmer than last time. Smiling, you pulled away slightly, “I like when you think like that.”

Astarion chuckled, his bare hand moving up the sleeve of your blouse, “Good to know. I’ll have to keep that mind next time I start thinking.”

The Shadowlands had boasted not only the worst atmosphere you had ever experienced, but also the worst sounds to ever grace your ears. It seemed like every time you heard a bird squawk, or a bush rustle, you jumped 10 feet in the air. You were thankful that you had Astarion by your side at night, otherwise, you weren’t completely sure if you’d get any rest at all.

Your nights with Astarion could only be described as wholesome, for the most part. Though his gloves were now off in the presence of your tent – his comfortability of touching you without them pretty much 100% - he still couldn’t get past his history when it came to sex. The moaning in each other’s mouths as your tongues danced with each other only amplified how desperate you were for each other, but every time, it wasn’t right. And that was okay.

But gods, did you yearn for him in every way.

Astarion was currently holding you, as you read on your side. You could tell he was sneaking peeks at your book because every so often, there was a “humph” or gasp coming from his lips softly. And when you tried to turn the page too fast, Astarion would gently touch the corner of the book, preventing you from moving to the next page.

“I can let you borrow the book when I’m finished, you know.” You said, giggling in his arms. He smirked and kissed your neck, his breath hot in your ear.

“But isn’t this much more fun, darling?”

You dog-eared the page and put the book down, turning in Astarion’s arms so you were facing him. You gently placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. Every time you touched him with skin-on-skin contact, you made sure he was comfortable. Astarion smiled and nodded, placing a peck on your forehead. Slowly, he kissed down your temple, to your cheek, and to your jawline. You sighed heavily, your arms wrapping around his neck. He hummed as he kissed along your jaw.

"Astarion..." You breathed. Your hands found their way into his hair, and when you started running your fingers through it, he moaned slightly.

Suddenly, gently, Astarion's cold hand had found it's way in between your legs, tentatively pressing against your clit through your underwear. You gasped at the sudden sensation, pulling back. Looking at him confused, he blushed slightly.

"I need you," He murmured quietly, brushing a lock of your hair back, "I need to feel you. All of you. I want to take you...desperately."

You smiled and slowly rolled your hips forward, towards his fingers. The pressure made you moan, and you tried your hardest to not roll your eyes back.

"Are you sure?"

Astarion nodded. His hand quickly pulled back and found it's way by his side, "But...I may...um..." His gaze followed where his gloves lay on the table near your bed. You followed his eyes, and looked at the gloves. You smiled and kissed him.

"Put them on."

"Are you sure? It's just that...well, I don't need them to touch you anymore, obviously, but when I think about making love, it can get overwhelming-"

"Astarion," You cut him off gently, staring into his eyes, "If you need to wear your gloves to feel comfortable making love to me, then you can wear 30,000 pairs at the same time. As long as you feel comfortable doing it," You kissed him quickly, "And can still take off my pants."

Astarion laughed and reached behind you, slipping the gloves on. His bashful look gave way to a smile, his eyes darkening in a way that you hadn't seen before. He enveloped you in a kiss, grabbing hold of your body around your waist.

"I am going to fuck you until you see stars." He grumbled, pressing his erection into you. Capturing your lips in a rough kiss, you moaned into it, the sudden portrayal of Astarion’s arousal sending heat to your belly. He gently guided you on your back as he straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Finally he leaned back, staring into your eyes.

He was truly a captivating sight - his fair, taught body seemed to glow in the light of your oil lamp. His eyes - usually a bright ruby - were now almost so dark they were onyx. He smiled at you, causing you to turn bashful under his gaze. You felt his hands make quick work of your pants, pushing them down to your ankles. You aided him by kicking them off your feet, your heart racing.

Was this finally happening - were you finally going to make love with Astarion? Your head swam as his gloved hands glided down your sides, taking in every inch of you. He shook his head, still smiling.

“You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” He whispered, his eyes inching towards your (now soaking) center. Gracefully, he slid down the bed, not breaking eye contact with you. Achingly slow, he spread your legs. Settling on his belly, his head dipped to your core, his nose so close it tickled the hair that encased it.

“Astarion…” You murmured, your hand resting on his head. You watched him lick his lips before he lightly pressed his tongue to your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. You physically felt like your senses were on overdrive - every muscle was tightened, anxiously awaiting his touch.

“You can’t rush perfection, darling,” He purred, one of his fingers finding their way to your clit. He gently rubbed the finger over your bulge, teasing you, the leather of the gloves an icy contrast to your growing heat. “I’m going to savor this moment. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

He was staring at you; a moment suspended in time. The only sound in the tent was your whimpers, trying to muffle it so the others didn’t hear you. Astarion’s signature smirk never left his mouth - he was the notorious tease, so why would he be any different in bed?

Suddenly, his tongue delved into you, immediately lapping up your juices, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your hands found his head, desperate to grip anything in their path. Once you felt his hair you couldn’t help but give a tight tug, to which he groaned into your cunt, the vibrations driving you crazy.

“You like that, don’t you?” He teased, pulling back slightly to speak. He still smirked, his tongue softly darting back to your clit. You bit your lip and nodded, the only way you could currently respond without screaming in pleasure. He dove back in, sending waves of sensation through your body - the coil in your belly started to tighten as Astarion took your clit in his mouth, sucking gently.

Shifting your head to the side of the bed, you pressed your mouth into the pillow, yelping in pleasure. Suddenly, you felt the leather of Astarion’s glove grabbing your cheeks, forcing your head forward. When you opened your eyes you saw him hovering over you, body slightly raised from your pussy.

“Don’t,” He commanded, the other hand working circles on your clit, “I want everyone to hear. I want the whole world to hear how good I love you.”

“Astarion…” You whimpered, your voice trailing off as he was back in between your legs, licking you into another dimension. You did as you were told, your head lolling back on to the pillow so you were looking at the ceiling of your tent, your vision going fuzzy. Your orgasm was quickly approaching, your muscles so tight you felt like you had to jump out of your skin. You knew Astarion sensed it - he slipped one arm underneath you to give himself better leverage, and was now lapping at you roughly, hungrily.

“I-I…I’m going to come,” You breathed, your strength failing you to use your full voice. You looked down and saw Astarion smiling into your cunt, the vibrations on your clit causing your legs to shake around his head. He stared at you from his position, which was just the push your body needed to reach ecstasy.

Your orgasm washed over you as your back involuntarily arched, a hand gripping so hard on to Astarion’s head you’re surprised you didn’t hurt him. His voice was screamed from your lips - definitely heard by everyone in camp - and you couldn’t think of anything else as you saw stars. Your chest felt like it was on fire as you heaved, trying to get control of your breathing. Astarion lapped at you for a few moments more as you felt your orgasm, finally pulling back to give you a moment to breathe. He stood on his knees and wiped his mouth, the smirk never leaving his face.

“You taste incredible.” He said, slowly raising himself from the bed. He undid the strings of his pants and pulled them down, his erection popping out. Leaking with wetness already, you couldn’t help but stare - this was the first time you were fully seeing him naked, and you were in awe of his form. Just seeing him fully aroused was enough to get you going again, and once he crawled back on top of you, you immediately spread your legs for him. He kissed you, and the faint taste of yourself made you moan into the kiss - his tongue was sloppily dancing in your mouth, all sense of romantic etiquette out the window. He was needy, whimpering into the kiss.

You felt him align himself with your entrance and you pressed one of your hands to his cheek, causing him to look up. You smiled softly.

“Are you sure?” You asked gently, delicately cradling his trauma in your hands. Your heart was racing in your chest - out of all the lovers in the land, you couldn’t believe that Astarion had felt comfortable with only you.

He smiled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life, darling. All 200 years of it,” You felt him adjust himself on top of you and he smiled, his eyes darkening again, “Now; stop being so nice so I can ravage you so good you can’t walk tomorrow.”

You both chuckled as he pressed himself into you, your laughter giving way to a low hiss as he immediately filled your aching entrance. Your pussy was begging for a break since you had just orgasmed mere moments ago, but the ache felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan. Astarion maintained eye contact with you, his mouth slightly parted, as he slowly began to rock into you, his hips falling into a rhythm.

“Gods, you are so fucking tight,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “Make my cock feel so good.”

Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead as he rocked quicker into you, his eyes falling heavy. You moved your hips upwards, gaining better leverage so he could go deeper. When he hit your spot, you both moaned in pleasure, and you gripped the sheets next to you.

“Astarion-” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You dug your nails into his back and pulled him closer to you, “Fuck! You make me feel so good!” Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you arched your back, “Harder, please!” You whined.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled in your ear, his words hot on your face, “You’d like me to fuck you ‘till we broke this bed, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You gasped, digging your nails harder into his back, “Please, please - give it to me!”

Astarion started to slam his hips against yours, the wet sounds of skin filling the tent. With every thrust, he groaned, his face becoming slightly red. A gloved hand appeared around your neck, and he stared into your eyes. You smiled slightly and nodded, and only with your consent did he start to squeeze, holding you in place as he fucked you.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“Hells, Astarion! You make me feel so good,” You screamed, both of your hands going to his around your neck, “Please, don’t ever stop fucking me.”

Your voice was a whine, desperate for sweet release of your impending orgasm. If your first one was intense, this one was indescribable - Astarion’s cock slammed into you in a rhythm he was slowly losing control of. He took his hand off of your throat and held on to your hips, trying to gain control of his thrusts as he closed in on his own orgasm.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours!” You screamed immediately, your hands wrapping around his neck again, “I’m yours! This pussy is yours - forever! I’m yours forever.”

Astarion smirked as he looked into your eyes, “Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. He bit down on your bottom lip hard and as he pulled away, he licked away the tiny bit of blood that had sprouted.

Suddenly, his expression changed as the trusts fell out of time. He became sloppy, his mouth open, his eyes closed. His climax was close, so you wrapped your legs around him, drawing his cock closer into your aching cunt. Slick with both of your juices, Astarion’s cock slid in and out of you, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Darling, I’m close,” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring into yours, “You’re going to make me come.”

“Come for me,” You said bringing your hands to the sides of his face. Your own orgasm was close - you were sure that if you felt him spill inside of you, you would tip over the edge for the second time that night. You smiled, tears of pleasure threatening to fall from your eyes as your body was being pounded into the bed, “Fill me.”

Astarion rested his forehead on yours. With a loud moan of your name, his entire body tensed, his climax spilling into you. His gloved hands dug into the side of your hips and suddenly your orgasm appeared, washing over you all at once. You pressed your body into his, screaming his name, your bodies close enough to feel as one.

As your bodies spasmed together, you saw Astarion smile. He peppered a gently kiss onto your lips, a soft moan escaping into your mouth.

“My darling,” He whispered, his body still on top of you, “That was…divine.” He was out of breath, his voice ragged. As he slowly moved to your side, still inside of you, you nuzzled into his chest, trying to steady your own breathing.

“Thank you,” You whispered, sighing contently, “For trusting me enough to be able to do that with me.”

Astarion tutted and started to stroke your hair, “Thank you for being the person that you are…so that I can feel safe enough to trust you.” He looked down at you and kissed you.

Sleep crept upon both of you; and neither you nor Astarion made a move to clean up the sticky aftermath between both of your legs. As you drifted off to sleep, still naked in Astarion’s arms, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You smiled contently - you could get used to this. It seemed the whole world was in your arms as you both held on tightly to one another, an unspoken bond between the two of you grown stronger.

Astarion slid his gloves off before he fell asleep.

---

A/N: I had a blast writing this one...please reblog if you liked it! Comments mean the world to me! :)

#astarion x oc #bg3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanon #astarion x reader #astarion fan fiction #astarion romance #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x you

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charliemwrites · 6 months

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Part…. 4(?!?!) of Charmed Slasher Simon

Part 3 is here

You nearly bump into Simon coming around the corner - just manage to catch yourself. Your eyes get so big and startled, a surprised little “oh!” as you stop yourself just in time. (Pity.)

“Sorry about that!” you breathe, smiling ruefully. “That’s what I get for zooming around.”

Simon offers you a smile that seems to set you at ease. No mask, no eyeblack.

“S’alright,” he assures. “Better now than with boxes.”

You fall for it. Of course you do, his precious little prey. Doesn’t stand a chance against a blooded predator like him.

“Are you moving in?” you ask.

“Yeah, just down there.” He gestures over his shoulder with a thumb. Relishes in how you have to lean around him to see where he’s pointing. The door next to your flat ajar.

“Oh, you’re right next to me!” you observe. “Welcome to the building!”

He tilts his head, knows how it looks when his hair sweeps across his forehead. “Thank you. Nice meeting at least one neighbor.”

You hum, lips curved up. “Well, you say that now. The last guy that lived there said he could hear me sometimes, so if I get loud please give me a knock.”

He chuckles, lets his voice drop just a bit. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

You arch your brows playfully. “Famous last words.”

That seems like the natural ending point of the conversation. He knows it is. But this is the first time he’s had your attention all on him since that night in the abandoned hospital.

“What about the other neighbors?” he asks. “Any rowdy couples or newborns I should be worried about?”

He already knows the answer. Has already marked each and everyone person on your floor as potential collateral if they interfere too much. But you tilt your head, thinking.

“Not that I know of…” you shrug, “though I’m pretty introverted. I don’t, um, see anyone much.”

You weren’t always, you poor thing. Trauma does awful things to one’s psyche.

“Anyway!” you chirp. “Do you need any help moving things in?”

Oh, oh, oh. You precious little lamb. He’s going to eat you whole if you step a single foot into his den.

“Thank you, luv, but I’m almost finished. I wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

You flush so brightly at the endearment, suddenly too shy to meet his eyes. His hands itch to pull your chin up, force you to meet his gaze as he-

“Well, lemme know if you need anything! I always forget something important when I move,” you say. “I’m the one on the left.”

“Will do. What was your name?”

You introduce yourself, slipping your delicate little hand into his, so much bigger and rougher. You bite your lip when you notice.

“Call me Riley,” he tells you, caressing his thumb over yours.

Later that night, you bring him a fresh batch of brownies, babbling, “I hope you don’t have any allergies! I mean, there aren’t any nuts, but I know gluten sensitivity is a bitch and people can be really, really lactose intolerant…”

“They’re perfect, luv. Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”

Your smile is so bright he feels a bit blinded.

“Of course! Happy to have you, Riley!”

Oh, you’ll be have him… eventually.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

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lynnlovesthestars · 2 months

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Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

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