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mondaymelon · 5 months

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— " 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧... "

art by @/kodokunoakashi on twitter, edited by me !! angst. an eensey weensey redemption at the end

xiao, zhongli, wanderer, neuvillette x gn!reader

[ centuries after their lover’s passing, they finally are able to rest in your ghostly touch. ₊˚ෆ ]

Perhaps the day he had found your lifeless body, eyes long fluttered closed and splatters of red decorating your throat was the day Xiao began falling apart.

He knew it from the start, that your death would be inevitable. You weren’t like him - a weary soul who had traversed these lands for thousands of years in search of a refuge that Teyvat had never provided for him. No, you were like the evening’s first star, brilliantly shining and setting the entire night sky ablaze. A warm glow that sparked flames wherever its light reached. He was one of many fortunate enough to be caught in your spiraling trap, those cursedly charming grins and a laugh with the innocence of a child. Your sweet warmth was addicting, and once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of it. Was that why the adeptus found himself leaving his corner of the inn more and more often, just to trail by your side? Maybe this was the reason he had found himself expressing something on his lips that he had never before?

Fragments split your face in his memory. Years, decades, centuries had passed. To the outside eye, all that could be observed was that the yaksha was particularly more elusive than before, only having briefly appeared once or twice before mortals. With ignorant and foggy minds, they’d declare that the Conqueror of Demons must feel despair over the sudden death of Rex Lapis, and they’d just leave it like that. An open question hanging in the air with no answer to pair it with.

Xiao didn’t know if he still had tears left to weep.

His brethren that he had lost so many years ago had robbed them with their passing, and they were nothing left but an empty remnant of once had remained. A shapeless echo… yes, perhaps that was what he was now. All that knew him were certain that your passing had stolen a part of him that would never recover. The fragments of emotion that you had left with him had only dissipated with time, and he despised himself for it. Shards that danced in his vision as he hefted his spear, whirling it with precision and slaughtering all in its path. They had dared lay hands on you. They had taken whatever resolve he had left. Now, he was but a shell, hollow without your embrace.

It’s cold.

Sometimes, he heard your laugh on the wind, and he’d whip around, expecting to see you there, but only to be met with the terrible, terrible silence, and all the adeptus could do was laugh bitterly. Crystalline drops of tears would threaten to roll past the barriers of his carefully crafted facade, and he’d curse at himself, grasping at his chest with heavy breaths and blown eyes.

He didn’t deserve to cry. No, not after he had failed to protect you. Guilt, self-loathing, karma, all of it… it bound him down with red tendrils that burned against his skin. Pain bloomed throughout his body, a brilliant crimson that stained his clothing, an anguish that he ardently welcomed. His vision dimmed, and his honey eyes which had long since lost their light slowly shut, embracing the darkness that reached for him.

Darkness, so how come when he opened his drowsy lids, all he saw was light?

“Xiao?”

A familiar voice, one that had blurred with time, yet now rang clearly in his senses. Those excitement-filled eyes, that mischievous curve on your lips, and the warmth of your fingers with his. The grass prickled at his back, and the scent of blooming wildflowers filled the air with its spring sweetness.

A smile tugged at his lips. His sorrow spilled from his eyes. He almost could’ve laughed at your concerned gaze, and with a bandaged heart he pulled you closer in his arms. His wounded voice was barely a whisper. “Thank you… for waiting for me all this time, love.”

He still remembers it. It’s a sight that’s been burned into his eyes. The way his composed expression had collapsed, how his disgraced self had fallen to his raw knees. Zhongli had held you then, feeling the precious warmth leave your body, listening to the thrum of your heart slowly ebbing away.

He had been seconds too late to hear what you had spoken in that moment, and only saw the wordless utter on your moving lips, the raspy, labored breaths, until they ceased to nothing but silence. How could something void of sound be so unequivocally loud? The silence rings in his ears, like a horrible testament of his broken contract. That bright moment the two of you had shared seemed centuries ago, an abstract painting of something that couldn’t have possibly occurred. With a beaming face, you had held his larger, gloved hand with two of your smaller ones, grinning at his touch.

“Let’s always be together, okay? No one can keep us apart!” You laughed to yourself at how red the man had grown at your words, and then stared fondly at the silver band he had placed on your finger a day prior, when he had kissed your hands and uttered his words of confession. Red dusted your cheeks at the thought, and to the wide-eyed man, you looked simply ethereal, with the way your lashes fluttered with every blink and the way your cheeks were warm with a smile.

“Yes.” Zhongli had been starstruck by you, so utterly breathless at how speechless a mere mortal could make him. It was astounding, how your smile seemed to steal his words away. He wanted to do nothing but to freeze those seconds, to place them in a glass and cherish them and relive them in a loop that lasted eternity.

Oh, what’d he do to see the way your lips curved upwards into a cheeky grin that you’d display just for him, the snarky comments leaving your mouth, and the way you laughed at his subtle reactions.

It’s only been two hundred years. Should he say “already?” Time passes slow, then fast, fluctuating without any thought of the man in mind. At times, when the clock strikes midnight and moonlight spills into the courtyard like liquid silver, the seconds slow into minutes and the minutes slow into hours, and he’ll gaze out onto the grassy fields where the two of you used to stroll hand-in-hand, and he’ll allow himself a moment of reminiscence. In other times, the world speeds up around him, and the incompetent man is unable to keep up. Your funeral was one of those times. How could he simply walk away from your framed portrait and declare, “that’s that?” Liyue had suffered a terrible loss, yet only he seemed to register that. How come?

Some days, he’ll talk to himself, as if you’re beside him. His words meet empty air and he smiles vacantly, holding a hand that isn’t there and kissing the lips of someone who is long gone. Your shadow is everywhere. He can’t escape it, but that’s okay. He doesn’t want to. Zhongli allows those remnants of you to linger and dance in the wind with the reddening leaves. By the bridge, excitedly petting the stray dogs, calling each and every one of them the name that you’ve bestowed upon them. A sight Ganyu would have loved to see. Or in the branches of a particular tree, laughing down at him with a giggle like birdsong, taunting words. “Would you look at that? Up here, I’m even taller than you, Zhongli!”

And every time he hears your transparent, faded voice, he can’t help but smile, despite how hopeless he feels. You’re gone, and that’s the truth, so where’s the harm in bathing in your afterimage just a moment longer?

He knows it isn’t you. It can’t ever come close. As centuries blur and whirl past, and he finds himself departing to the more secluded spaces of Liyue’s wilderness, he decides it’s time. His nation no longer needs him. The reason he had for living is gone, and the heart that had once been so lively has dulled.

Would it be too foolish to hope that when he opens his eyes, you’ll be there, waiting for him?

“Xiansheng? Come on, come on sleepyhead, wake up already!” Pause. “Oh, will this do the trick?”

And then there’s warmth on his cheek, the feeling of your lips against his skin, and he feels alive, for the first time in those archon-forsaken years. He knows what he’ll see, when he opens his gilded eyes that are shimmering with dew. “Yes, love. I’m here.”

Betrayal. Those sickening words you had spoken to him, sweet beyond belief… Wanderer hissed through his teeth, holding his hands over his ears as his tears fell to the earth and soaked into the dark earth.

Yes, at that time he should’ve known. The truth you spoke to him was simply too good to be true - a fantasy that could never be attained. Yet he had been swayed by your smile and fell for your warmth, and since then had been willingly trapped in a void that was you, with no intention of escaping. It amazed him, almost, how he can smile in this moment, albeit however sour it is. What more proof did he need? To be unable to stay somber in the moments of your passing, did that not just prove how flawed he was? How undeserving?

He detested it. No wonder why you had left this world. It was a pain to even be by his side. Words without “love” and a chest that did not thrum with flusteredness could never convince you to stay beside him. Once again, someone he yearns for has cleverly slipped through his fingers. From the beginning, he was a sinner. A worthless puppet incapable of feeling a shred of what you held for him.

Red dripped from his fingers as they clawed at the earth, as he bends into himself with ugly wails. Could you see him now, wherever you were? Tears flowed freely from his eyes, not heeding his mutters for all of it to cease. He wanted it to end, all of it, the suffering that he felt and the emptiness he could never fully elude. The fatui, his mother, they’d all laugh at him with pointed fingers if they saw him now, wouldn’t they? His flushed cheeks are stained with salt and his throat was raw from his shouts. The blood pooling around your body has already cooled, and your fingers that were intertwined with his had already grown cold to the touch.

“Woah, Wanderer, your skin is really cold! Aren’t you hot at all? It’s summer!” You had stared at him with a childlike fascination, holding his hand in yours, poking it for extra effect, only growing more astonished.

“It’s nothing to be impressed over.” He cleared his throat into his fist, yet did not let go of your hold. “If anything…” At the time, his words had not completed themselves, yet his gaze had trailed to your own hands, and he had kissed the back of them with a cheeky half-smile. I like yours. They’re warm. There had been an inkling of naive hope, that your life could fill the void in his, and perhaps that was what allowed his plastic expression towards you to grow into true ones.

“H-Hey, c’mon…” His voice broke, unsteady like the legs of a newborn fawn. He took your blood-stained hand and pressed it to his cheek, only further wetting it with his tears. “This isn’t funny, you know, you can… you can stop now…”

Look how broken he’s become, stooping as low as to speak to a corpse.

That was only a decade ago. Every morning, the ache of its recollection brings a fresh dose of misery. Every evening he lulls himself to sleep by repeating the words you once said, imagining the stroke of your hands tangled in his hair, imagining your sunbeam-like smile as you gazed down at him fondly.

Really, what’s the point of living with you gone? Could he really call it “life?”

Those questions still remain sharp in his mind as he sputters out a cough, glancing down at the blade in his shattered chest, positioned right where his heart should have been. Cold, unforgiving steel, driving down and tearing apart. Wanderer blinks up at the cursed heavens above and heaves out blood that leaves a lingering red on his lips, and he can’t bring himself to cry anymore. He spits out a final damnation at Celestia before slipping away, eyes closing as he finally-

“Wanderer? Where’s your hat? You aren’t wearing it today?”

Your voice. It breathes life into his empty soul. Warmth. He wants to hold it, hold you, ever closer like he never had the courage to. His violet eyes spring open as he sits up with a start, his disheveled garments flinging about. “Y-You-!”

“What’s with you today? You’re acting strange, silly. Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” You grin stupidly, an idiocy he finds all so lovable. The twinkle in your eye - you’re alive. You’re breathing and you’re existing before him. A final grace that he can’t thank whatever for enough.

There’s the sound of wind, and then you find yourself tightly wrapped in his embrace, your shoulder stained with his tears that spill despite how much he doesn’t want to show you this weakness. He buries his face into you, and you can feel the ghost of a smile against your skin. “I’ve missed you. So, so much. Please, please, don’t leave me again.”

Lifeless, your body lay, along the shores and lapped by waves stained crimson. That day, Fontaine realized what it was like to truly rain, not a few drops, or even spring showers. Water fell endlessly from the skies, a downpour that may never end, an all-swallowing sea from the heavens that swallowed all unfortunate enough to be caught in its path. Irony clouded the skies, and Neuvillette found himself broken into pieces he didn’t know how to put back together.

His efforts to understand the human population were in vain. A complete, utter failure. How could he possibly judge, knowing the world despised him? Knowing that the scales were upturned and that nothing could ever be just? Your death, it was unfair. Unfair to the world and unfair to he who held you ever so dear. But what else could he do but continue his oversight? Quitting his position wouldn’t bring you back. Nothing would. He could hear your cheery voice in his ear, and the hint of a pout, a chiding tone. “Neuvi, you can’t quit! Let’s all try our best, okay?”

The days where you were by his side were the happiest. Fontaine had become akin to Sumeru’s desert, the sun blazing overhead and the moon shining brightly at night. Yet, how come the people of Fontaine had seemed upset at the skies for his contentment? They begged for rain, begged for their dying crops, to the point where you were forced to distance yourself from the man for days at a time, just the unrelentless sun would cloud over and perhaps a drop or two of rain would be squeezed from the heavens.

If he had known you would leave so soon, he would have never permitted you to depart from his side. If he had known you would pass this world and traverse to the next, he would have held you with every ounce of his soul, he would have declared his love for you over and over, he would have placed the ring he had been saving in his pocket, the one he slipped on his finger whenever he was at a particularly difficult trial.

So many “what if’s.” None of them would materialize. Once again, his efforts would fall short. Once again, he’d lose someone.

The tea was hot. It burned his tongue, yet he couldn’t feel a thing. You, the clearest of springs and purest of waters, had set his own sea into a never-ending storm. Lightning struck and its own surface churned choppily with enough rage to devour a nation. The second tea cup that was on the other side of his office desk remained untouched, the contents slowly cooling into nothingness. A something that could never be.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry~” He could hear it when he shut his eyes for what he hoped to be the final time, your voice from the mist that shrouded his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to embrace the owner of it. How could he possibly heed your words, when he felt his tears slip past his eyes, flowing as unperturbed as a river? Your back is facing him, but you know he’s there. You glance back with a fond beam, extending your arms outwards. An invitation. One that he’d readily take, any time, every time.

He would never enable you to slip from his grasp again. He allows you to engulf him in your arms, he allows you to stroke your thumb on his face and wipe away his salty tears, he allows you to brush his hair behind his ear and press butterfly kisses into his closed eyelids. Your warmth floods his body, and with a smile he takes the ring he’s saved for you out of his pocket, and fulfills his regrets as he slips it onto your finger, a final tear rolling down his cheek. “There’ll be no more reason to cry, not anymore.”

(a/n) this further proved to me that writing angst is so fucking mind destroying but at the same time provides this sort of quiet sorrow that you aren't able to attain anywhere else and for some twisted reason this is literally one of my favorite things ive like. ever written. holy shiiiii

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

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silasours · 2 months

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ৎ⸝⸝⠀FAVORITE DATES . —

#pairing : lucifer, angel dust, alastor x gn reader #cw : fluff honestly, idk what else to tell you. a bit of crack perhaps? reader specializes in photography for lucifer and alastor's part. #summary : their favorite kind of date with you + drabble for each of them. #note : extremely in need of fluff and comfort from lucifer specifically atm, so here i am writing for him + a few others :3 hope this will cheer you up as how it did to me.

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer loves bringing you to the prettiest places he can find. he'd wrap you tightly in his arms, unfurling his wings and allowing them to warm up with gentle flaps. he reassures you every time before take-off, his legs gently pushing the both of you from the handrail of your balcony as his feathered blades softly fanned the still air, flying at a steady and comfortable pace. if you request for him to stop mid air for a picture, he'll gladly do so until you get the perfect shot of the scenery in hell.

the sin filled air gently brushes past your face, your hands holding dearly onto lucifer as well as your camera. you take note of every detail you can get from the places where lucifer flies by, the sparkle in your eyes never fading ever since he suggested another one of your favorite dates. his heart melts every time he sees your excitement, a soft smile unknowingly creeping up onto his lips.

"darling, could you do me a favor and close your eyes for a moment? we're about to arrive at the special place i mentioned." with a nod, you close your eyelids gently; all you can see now is the weak light that shines through your eyelids. lucifer mutters a quick thank you, pressing a sweet kiss onto your forehead and increasing his speed through the air. you can hear the sounds of his wings flapping louder than before.

it wasn't long until everything came to a halt, lucifer slowly lowering the both of you from the air until the ground came in contact with your feet. you can practically hear the excitement in lucifer's voice. he cups your eyes from behind, fingers blocking the light that was previously visible through your eyelids as he guides you to walk around the unfamiliar surroundings step by step. "almost there, i just know you'll love it."

"getting impatient here, luci." you state playfully with a light chuckle, following his guide with your hands clutching onto the camera hanging from your neck. "alright. on three, i'll be removing my hands from your eyes. don't get too sucked up by the beautiful view by then,"

a sense of exuberance bubbles inside of you as you listen to his countdown, an uncontrollable smile stretching your lips. "and.. three." lucifer removes his hands from your face, the brightness stinging your eyes which took you a short moment to adjust to the lightning. you blink, the breathtaking scenery displayed in front of you sucked your breath away immediately. the sky is a beautiful shade of red and purple that perfectly med together, and the sunbeams illumined the immediate surroundings, partly obscuring the sky-high mountains a great distance ahead.

the scenery stole your ability to speak for minutes before you snapped back to reality, throwing yourself into lucifer's arms. you wrap your arms around his lean figure, feeling him returning your tight hug as well. "thank you for bringing me here! oh satan, this will be perfect for my collection."

you claim with a sing-song tone, abruptly pulling away from the hug to start taking perfect shots of the scenery before losing the chance to. you need the pictures in your camera, and you're not going home until you're satisfied. you take your time to perfect every angle and lightning, fully absorbed by photography at the moment.

lucifer watches you from the side, his gaze fixated on your every movement and the excitement that displays on your face, leaning his weight further onto his cane. it's always moments like this that remind him how deeply in love he is with you, always causing him to fall in love all over again.

ʚ ANGEL DUST .

there is no designated spot, but angel loves going on shopping sprees with you. he calls it the ideal date; going for spa, clothing, accessories, you name it. he loves the idea of spoiling each other, where the both of you would take turn to pay for anything the both of you got. the both of you will talk and laugh about anything while walking, hips practically linked together as you walk. at the end of everything, the two of you will sit together at the place where you both first met, silently appreciating each other's comforting presence while talking about memories you shared together.

"oh baby, look at these gems they're sellin'!" angel pulls you by the arm, pressing himself against the wide glass window with multiple sunglasses on display. one particular design caught his eye; it's displayed in the middle among the others. with his toothy grin widening, he glances at you with a click on the tongue. "i say we hit the jackpot t'day, dont'cha agree?"

"jackpot indeed, these babies are definitely worth it. shall we head in and get ourselves a matching pair of them?" you link your arm with his as he presses a quick kiss onto your forehead, mumbling a small 'ya know me so well' before walking into the store with you. the welcome bell rings the moment you push the door open, the store owner's head shooting up from the cashier almost immediately. a wide smile appears on their face, excited to welcome the both of you while jogging towards your direction.

"welcome, welcome! what an honor to have the famous couple visiting my little store. has anything caught your eyes, my dear? or would you like me to pair you up with some that matches you?" the owner clasped their hands together beside their face, their gaze constantly shifting between you and angel, feeling absolutely thrilled.

angel points his thumb towards the same glasses he told you about outside the store, shifting his weight to one leg. "are those still available? we'll take two of 'em please." giving a quick glance at the direction angel is pointing at, the owner nods with their eyes lighting up.

"fabulous choice, they're the customer's all-time favorite! you're in luck today, there are only two stocks left. i'll go grab them for you."

the owner turns their back and walks towards the big shelves storing nicely packaged sunglasses. with a brief scan, they reach out to grab the two boxes on one of the shelves. the boxes are rose gold while the others are white, making them easy to look for. they jog towards you and angel, holding out the two boxes in their hands. "all nice and packed, the glasses you asked for! go ahead and try them on, I'll be waiting behind the counter."

you accept the boxes with a mutter of 'thank you', passing one of the boxes to angel. he whistles, practically ripping the glasses out from the box. "these babies are prettier up close! feelin' sexier with them on, what 'bout you?" you chuckle at angel's claim, playfully rolling your eyes at him before trying the sunglasses on. the light around your eyes instantly grows soft and comfortable, allowing your eyes to relax while looking around.

"how do i look? they feel perfect on me."

"absolutely perfect!" angel exclaims while throwing his arms up in the air, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. his smile is wide enough to flash the golden tooth he has as his arm embrace your waist, his upper pair of his arm pinching your cheek playfully. "if it looks perfect on me, it'll definitely look perfect on ya."

you laugh, pressing a kiss onto his hand that pinched your cheek. "whatever you say, dear. now let me go pay for these then we'll be done with shopping." he tags along as you pay for the sunglasses, thanking the store owner before exiting. you walk down the street with your arm linked with angel's, your sunglasses sitting neatly on the top of your head.

"headin' to the garden t'day?" angel questions while walking down the familiar street with you. you nod, keeping your gaze up ahead. "nonsense, 'course we are. it's something we do after every date, my favourite part actually."

ʚ ALASTOR .

alastor values quality time together, which results in long walks being his favorite dates with you. he always has the best places to take you on walks, sometimes even preparing a gift for you if he manages to get his hands on one. the walk would most likely be filled with comfortable silence unless you're a chatty one, to which alastor would be more than happy to listen. he's a great listener, after all, listening to you talk makes him feel content as well. physical affection will be reduced in public, but if you're in a secluded area and he's comfortable enough, you may receive some small affectionate kisses; on your hands especially.

your surroundings are almost dead silent; these sinners either do their best to avoid alastor - the radio demon, or whisper about the both of you. not that you mind, you prefer things staying as it is since neither of you would have to worry about anyone disrupting your peaceful little date. with a hum, you adjust your sleeves, parting your lips to spark up yet another topic that so happened to cross your mind.

"have i told you about the new pictures i've taken recently?" you flash him a smile, excited to share your new works for photography. with an acknowledged hum, alastor gently shakes his head as he keeps his hands neatly folded behind him. "i suppose you have not. do enlighten me, my dear." you're delighted that he's willing to listen as always; something about it just draws you more towards his charm.

"gladly! you see, i hung out with rosie a few days ago since she wouldn't stop asking me about it." you pause for a quick moment before speaking again. "i'd say the cannibal town fascinates me all the time. i took pictures of the scenery there, and of course, lots of rosie because she's so photogenetic. speaking of which," something clicked in your head. you shuffle through your pockets and pull out a polaroid, placing it in front of alastor. "have a look at one of them, i happened to bring one with me."

he takes the polaroid from your hand, flipping it over to see the picture you've taken. it's a picture of rosie in a field of black roses, even embracing some in her arms. she's smiling at the camera - alastor assumes that it was rosie who suggested that you take a few snaps with your photography skills. angle, lightning, poses, you've perfected everything in this picture alone.

as always, your skills never fail to amaze alastor no matter how many times he sees your work. "such ravishing work of art! i am absolutely floored." the grin on his face softens ever so slightly, a sign that shows that he's being genuine. he passes the little piece of picture back into your hands, his gaze now fixated on you. you keep the polaroid back in your pocket nicely, giving it a light pat.

"my, im honored. is this an attempt of yours to flirt?" you chuckle playfully despite knowing full well that your comment was fully incorrect. you just like messing around, is all. alastor shakes his head at your miserable attempt to poke fun at him, laughing lightly. he stops in his tracks, scanning his surroundings briefly. not many sinners around, it should be alright.

"ha-ha! of course not, my dear. though, this should count as one." small steps, alastor now stands before you. your eyes search his in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you try to figure out what could he possibly be planning. his hand moves to hold yours with a good amount of delicacy, his face leaning down closer to your hand with each passing second until his lips press against your knuckles. he lets them linger on your warm skin before pulling away, his lips leaving a cold sensation along with an odd warmth spreading across your skin.

you stare at him, breathing almost coming to a halt as you watch the smugness on his face grow. a light blush tints your face and ears, your gaze growing avoidance to his soul-piercing one. it's clear that he's enjoying the reaction you hold. "not going to comment on it? is it because my 'attempt at flirting' worked well this time?" his words made you roll your eyes, playfully sighing in annoyance. of course he'd pull this trick, how did you not see it coming?

"no comment." is all you said to answer his question before motioning for him to lean in closer. he did as you asked without question, figuring that there might be something you'd like to tell him. a kiss on his cheek from you caught him by surprise as it was not what he expected to happen. "guess you're not the only one able to pull this trick. we're equal now, yes?"

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

#﹕a dream to nowhere.#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust #lucifer morningstar #alastor #hazbin hotel drabble #hazbin hotel fluff #lucifer #hazbin hotel headcanon

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alwaysmicado · 12 days

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Sink or swim

12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8

WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret. A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.

series masterlist | main masterlist

The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.

You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.

Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.

You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.

No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.

Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–

Shut up.

You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.

The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings.

With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.

As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special.

It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.

Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.

Fucking embarrassing.

How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again?

There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.

“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”

You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.

Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.

It’s an uncomfortable truth.

There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.

And last night, that fear came true.

Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.

For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration.

Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?

You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.

You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.

Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.

You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.

And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.

As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.

You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.

Three years earlier

The sun is down.

Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.

This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.

In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.

You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.

You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–

“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.

Are you kidding me?

With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.

“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”

“Wha–”

You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”

The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.

“Darlin’, I’m just–”

“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”

When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up.

Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is.

God, what’s wrong with you?

“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”

“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”

“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”

His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.

Okay, world. Hint taken.

“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out.

“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?”

Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.

“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”

The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself.

His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”

You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”

He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.

As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.

The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone.

You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.

“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.

Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.

“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.

“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”

“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.

“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.

You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance.

He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.”

“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”

“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.”

“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”

Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”

“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.

“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.”

“You’re not from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”

You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”

“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”

“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”

He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead.

“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.

“I told you, watching the sunset.”

“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”

You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”

“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”

“Like what?”

“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”

Your bewildered look amuses him.

“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”

“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”

“Hm?”

“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”

“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”

You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”

“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes.

“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”

“Where did you put all your stuff?”

“My stuff?”

“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.”

You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”

“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.

He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”

“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.

Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.

“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”

“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”

You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?”

“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”

“Pineapple.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pine. Apple.”

“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”

“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”

“No, just not a complete monster.”

You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.

Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.

“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.”

You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again.

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

“Last night.”

“How? Why?”

“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”

“Hm. I know that feeling.”

You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry.

You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”

“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”

You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”

You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.”

Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“Are you married?”

“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.”

“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”

“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”

“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.”

Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.”

“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity.

“A few times, yeah.”

“And the women you were with…they loved you?”

“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be.

“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”

Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.

“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”

“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”

Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.”

“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile.

“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”

“Was?”

“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”

“What the hell? When was that?”

“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”

“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

“What makes you say that?”

You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.

“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”

You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes. “I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.” Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh. “Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling. “I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart. “No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you. You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you. In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock. “I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist. “Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute. “Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”

You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?”

“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”

“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.

“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.

“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”

“Did you just call me handsome?”

“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”

Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.

“I saw her.”

“Who?”

“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”

“What did you do?”

“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.

“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”

“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”

Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”

“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.

“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”

“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”

“Dar–”

“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare.

He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.

“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”

“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.

“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”

Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.

“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."

He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly.

“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now.

“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”

You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back.

“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you.

“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”

Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.

Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.

As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life.

He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.

You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence.

Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.

As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.

You take a deep breath.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”

“Why won’t you go home?”

Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you.

“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.

You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”

“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.

You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.

Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own.

His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone.

“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.

“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart.

Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.

Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.

“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night.

“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness.

Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.

“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”

Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”

“Great,” you say with a small smile.

You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.

“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”

“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back.

“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.

“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.

He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.

As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”

“Are you–”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”

Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.

“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.

As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.

Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.

As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.

Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”

“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?”

“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.

You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.

Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow.

“Want me to show you around?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.”

“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”

“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him.

“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”

Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”

You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.

“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”

“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack.

As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.

After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.

With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.

“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”

“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease.

“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”

You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.

As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.

Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.

Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight.

Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.

“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”

Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.

But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.

Oh.

The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident.

Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.

You’re in trouble.

His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.

A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.

Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer.

“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.

As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.

The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.

“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”

“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”

Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.

When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.

“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.

With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot.

Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.

Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.

“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.

“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his.

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black.

“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great view of your spread thighs and torso.

“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.

You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist.

“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm.

“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”

As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole.

“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.

“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.

Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.

But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”

“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed.

Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him.

“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.

Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.

But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.

This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips.

Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.

“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”

Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his.

“Please? Tommy?”

Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.

“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”

He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”

“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”

The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.

“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.

Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.

“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.

You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.

Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up.

You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)

You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?

Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy.

just accept it <3

You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him.

But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.

Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning.

“Sweetheart?” “Yeah?” “I, uh, I got something to tell you.” “Shoot.” “I met someone.” Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart. “We’ve only been on two dates, but I–” “Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze. “Yes.” That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced. “Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.” “Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Darlin’, look at me.” You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.” You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants. And that’s not you. You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”

You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.

You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.

One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand.

A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.

After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.”

“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.” “I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.” “Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.” “Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.” “The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.” “I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.” “You really wanna play semantics with me?” “Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.” “Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?” “It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.” “Ew, don’t say that.” “Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.” “You suck, you know that?” “Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?” “I dunno, probably not.” “Are you gonna tell him?” “Uhh, I don’t think so.” “Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.” “Tommy…” “Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.” “Liar.” “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.” “Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.” “That’s not how it works.” “You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?” “Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?” “I’m not sure I can.” “What does your gut say?” “My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.” “As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.” “I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.” “Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.” “Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?” “You know I’m right, baby.”

It’s funny, really.

You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors, reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids.

You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—

“Hi, darlin’.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.

You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”

“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”

His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.

Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.

“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”

His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction.

You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.

“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.

Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”

“Hm.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”

As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.

In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?”

You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings.

“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.

Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.

“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”

Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.

You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.

Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.

Thank you for reading! 🤍

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aphroditestempleimagines · 5 months

Text

The Strongest

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Getou - 18+

Words: 3419

Warnings: language, passionate sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem! & m! receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation (tiny bit), threesome, satosugu , orgasm delay, nipple play, established relationship

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. In your sorrow, you slept with his old, now criminal, friend Suguru Getou. That finally got Gojo to admit his love for you. But now that Getou had a taste of happiness he simply cannot let go. This is the smut part.

Colour: Hot & rough (Guess who's rougher)

His love series - part 4

Author's note: I'm guessing this is what y'all been waiting for. Also apologies to the people who made the gifs.

"Hello?", you cried at the empty house. You looked door by door in the Gojo's family estate to find nothing but silence. As you arrived at the master quarters you felt the slight vibrations of sorcery trigger your body. You turned, spell in hand, only to stop inches before striking your fiance in the face; perhaps you should not have stopped yourself, you thought, given how he snuck up to you.

Satoru smiled. He clasped your hand in his and planted a kiss on your palm before pulling you against him. "I heard my girl got promoted to special grade today", he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Yeah, they just told me", you chuckled as he showered you with kisses up and down your neck.

"I don't know about grade, but you were always special to me", he whispered in your ear.

His hands roamed down your torso as he used his body to push yours on the wall. He hiked your leg over his hip, pushing his knee on your clothed core. His other hand unbuttoned the top of your uniform, his lips leaving a trail of red blossoms as they travelled further down your chest.

"You know", he said, "I'm starting to feel threatened by you my love"

You chuckled. He was not being serious, you knew that, and yet when you looked into his crystal blue eyes you could not help but doubt your own reason. A shadow fell over you. You looked to your right and was met with Suguru's large frame, leaning over the wall next to you with one arm resting over your head. You shook Satoru off, trying to cover up as you laughed in embarrassment, but the sorcerer held you in his arms. You only managed to twirl around in Satoru's embrace, him pulling your back flush against his chest, placing more kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder.

"Suguru", you laughed nervously, "I'm really sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him"

Suguru raised one of his eyebrows. "Don't you?", he said suggestively.

"We had a disagreement", Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder, "See, Suguru here believes you deserve a reward for your new position. I on the other hand cannot help but be overcome with a need to fuck you until you can't stay awake anymore"

Your breath caught. "So-"

"So we decided to do both", Suguru leaned over you. He glided his thumb over your skin, from the tip of your chin down your neck and collarbone until it dug under your bra, pulling it -and you- forward. "If you'll have us", he said. He kneeled down in front of you, pulling your right leg over his shoulder. He kissed your thigh over your black tights, his lips dangerously close to the trim of your skirt.

"Of course she will, she's been craving this since the day you moved in with us", Satoru unbuttoned your top all the way down. His hands dove under your bra to cup your breasts. He pulled you flush against his chest, close enough for you to feel everything he felt for you. His teeth nibbled on your ear. "You're so greedy", he groaned in your ear, "I love it".

You threw your head back when Suguru's thumb pressed over your clothed entrance. "She needs to somehow compensate for your small-OW", Satoru kicked Suguru's leg.

"What do you think my love?", he made sure you knew Suguru was lying.

You chuckled. He was just asking for it.

"Suguru's bigger", you smiled at him.

"OH IS HE?", Satoru chuckled as he picked you up. You yelped and laughed when he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you off to the bedroom. Suguru shook his shoulders. You had brought it on yourself.

Satoru let you down lightly on the bed, immediately climbing on top of you. His hands cupped your face, his legs caging your body. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss that seemed to last an infinity. "Wanna put it to the test while I eat you out?", he growled as he nibbled on your lower lip.

Suguru peeled him off of you. "You're going to let her sit on your face", he said, his hand on Satoru's throat.

"And why would I do that?"

"Cause I wanna see it", Suguru kissed Satoru before pulling him away and forcing him onto the bed. He gave you his hand and pulled you against him, taking your lips in his own. "I'll make sure he behaves", he gently lifted your chin before turning his gaze to your fiance. "Won't you Satoru?", he cried.

Satoru clicked his tongue in response. He sat on his knees, his hands tracing the curve of your waist until they wrapped around your torso, pulling you once more against him. His hand reached from behind to lift your chin and let you face him. His lips hovered over yours, close enough to feel his breath yet too far to reach. "Do it", he said with a smirk, "See what happens".

Before you could respond he let his body fall back on the mattress, crocking his finger at you. You hesitantly moved your hips toward him before his hands pulled you over his face. A yelp escaped you as he tore your tights at the crotch to reach the wetness of your panties. He pulled their soft fabric to the side, his tongue reaching to trace the lips of your folds.

Suguru's hand cupped your cheek. He drank your next moan and all the rest in a fervent kiss. Your lack of attention turned Satoru livid; he plunged his finger inside your core, scraping and curling at all the spots he alone knew would have your knees trembling. He lapped at your juices like a starved man as he pinched your bud. Soon, you could not concentrate on Suguru anymore, your body falling forward as you panted over Satoru's abs.

"Sat...or...sator...", you tried saying his name, but your breaths were too erratic to let you form words.

Getou's crooked finger hooked underneath your chin. "Is he doing a good job princess?", he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the bridge of your nose, "Shall we make him feel good too?"

Suguru palmed Satoru over the trousers. The latter groaned as his length grew harder, his voice vibrating against your folds. You bit back a moan.

"Let him hear you, baby", Suguru breathed as he sucked on the skin of your neck. He held your left breast in one hand and freed Satoru's length with the other. His thumb brushed over the tip.

Satoru breathed hard, but he did not want to stop; he would not let Suguru distract him from proving his point. He adjusted you on top of his, spreading your folds with his thumbs before plunging his tongue inside. You could feel him smirk as he pulled moan after moan from your body. Suguru wrapped his arms around you, his lips attacking your nipple until he scattered all logic from your mind. Satoru continued pumping two of his long fingers inside your core and pretty soon you were unravelling on his plump lips.

Your body bent in half, chest heaving as you rested your head on his hips. You felt Satoru's lips kiss your inner thigh and you shot up from the bed, fearful of crashing him. He reached out for your waist as you turned to check on him and pulled you back on the bed. He crashed his lips onto yours.

"Look at the mess you made", his thumb brushed over his lower lip, gathering some of your essence that dripped from its rim. He made a show of licking his thumb, his face only inches away from yours.

"Is our girl feeling nice?", Suguru gathered your hair away from your shoulder, revealing a patch large enough to kiss.

"Yes", you breathed.

Suguru leaned over your ear, his fingers tracing the front of your torso. "Will you let me taste you next?", he whispered.

Satoru pulled you away. He kissed you as he lifted you up, his length teasing your core. "No way", he said against your lips, "We're not done here"

"Satoru", you combed his silver hair before taking his face in your hands. You gave him a sweet kiss before pushing him down on the mattress.

You continued kissing him as you pulled open his uniform, all the way down to the waist of his trousers. His length was still hard and painful. You planted a kiss on the side before giving it a couple of pumps. Satoru trembled a bit. You moved your kisses until you reached its tip. You gave a knowing look at Suguru. He smiled before he plunged two of his digits into your core, his lips kissing all around your entrance.

You turned back to Satoru. "I want you to feel good too", you took his length between your lips.

Satoru tensed. He threw his head back as you hollowed your cheeks. "God, y/n", he covered his bright blue eyes with his hand. His hips chased your lips every time you pulled away.

Suguru scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you enough for his tongue to snake inside your folds. You moaned against Satoru's length, causing him to toss his trembling hand on your hair. Gojo did not hold any sound back; he made sure you knew exactly how you made him feel, either by vocalizing his lust or pulling you closer over his member.

You felt Getou's silent chuckle as it broke on your skin. He picked himself up, his hands still pleasuring you, and began planting kisses on your spine. Your back arched as his teeth scrapped along the bone-line. You let go of Gojo, your head dropping down to pant Suguru's name.

"Don't distract her Suguru or I'll put it in your ass instead"

Geto's sweet laughter rang in your ears. You moved your hand up and down Satoru's length. "I'm fine", you kissed him on the side.

"Oh are you", you jolted as you felt Suguru's length press on your entrance, "Now that just won't do". He traced your lower lips with the tip of his length, never breaking in, until he had you shuddering. "I want you ecstatic", he said, "I want your mind washed blank from pleasure"

"Suguru", you whined, "Please"

"Please what, princess?"

"Ple-ah"

He slowly plunged his length inside you. He let it drag over your walls as he pulled out only to thrust further in. It took him a couple of times doing that before you had fully enveloped him and he set up a pace that had your toes curling.

Your mind tried concentrating on working Satoru's length, but Suguru felt too good inside you to form coherent thoughts. A hand cupped your cheek; Satoru sat up to peer into your eyes. The light in his bright blue trembled with need.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.. "God", he groaned as he bit your lip, "I could look at that face every day"

You arms wrapped around Satoru's body as Suguru picked up his pace. Your ear was pressing against his heart, its beats louder than anything you had ever heard. Gojo ran his hand over your back, soothing his friend's hard thrusts. Between half-lidded eyes, you noticed Satoru's pain and remembered what you had been doing. You bent down and took him back between your lips, eliciting a groan.

"GAh...you better make our girl come Suguru", he said, his head falling back, "Fuck, y/n!"

"If you keep squeezing me like that princess I'm not gonna last", he said but picked up the pace.

His grip was gentle as he held you, trying his best not to bruise your delicate thighs, yet he moved his hips in a feverish rhythm that escalated in tune with your voice. He lifted your hips a little, the new angle hitting your G-spot. Your shriek was muffled as you gagged on Gojo's length. Geto reached down to press circles on your bud, his hand moving fast.

"Suguru!", you cried before Satoru pulled you back on his length.

Gojo's hand held your head, his fingers softly twirling your curls as he moved his hips. His face twisted in pleasure at every moan you let out on his length. You could not remember the moment Getou broke the knot that he had tied in your core, but you could certainly tell when Satoru was thrown into a world of ecstasy. His hand grabbed you tighter as he panted your name, your mouth filling with the product of his love. He pulled you up, still breathing hard, his thumb tracing your dripping chin. His lips conquered yours and he tasted himself in your kiss.

"Oh Suguru look at the view you're missing"

Satoru slightly turned your head. To the already desperate Suguru that was enough to send him over the edge. He stilled inside you, his hands holding your hips flush against his. You felt the warmth of his essence fill his condom as he pulsated within your walls. His warm breath exploded on the skin of your back, his loving lips planting kisses on your tailbone.

"Think you can take me too, my love?", Satoru pulled you off Suguru.

"Give her a moment prick"

"I will", Satoru kissed your forehead as he softly laid you on your back. He opened your legs and sat between them, his fingers tracing your fluttering folds. He observed your expressions change as he filled your thigh with hickeys. "That was weak, Suguru", he smirked, his thumb pressing on your clit, "There's barely anything here"

"Oh really?", he tossed a condom at his friend.

"Yeah", Gojo gave you light kisses as his hardness pressed on your entrance until it snaked inside. He observed your face as he moved all the way in. Your hands wrapped around his torso, your legs straddled his waist from below. "Y/n, look at me"

You turned to look inside the blue depths of Satoru's eyes. He touched his forehead to yours, his length slowly thrusting inside you.

"Look at me", he said again, breathing against your lips, "Look into these eyes that want you"

His kiss was desperate, his pace phenomenal. Your ears filled with Suguru's "fuck"'s and moans. His head thrown back on a chair, his hand on his length and his eyes fixed on your form, he breathed hard and called your names as pumped himself in tune with Satoru's thrusts.

"Ah, you're squeezing me", Satoru said against your neck, "If you make me come too early it'll be over for you". He stilled his hips, his fingers digging in the skin of your thighs to keep you in place. "Just like that", he said. He had not come. His eyes were blazing with last, his cheeks hot and red. Yet his hands would not let you, or himself, move.

"Satoru...", you struggled

He leaned close, trailing kisses on your collarbone. "That's it, say my name again", his thumb caressed your cheek.

"Satoru..."

"Say that you love me", his hand wrapped around your neck, "Promise you'll never leave my sight"

"I won't. I love you S .."

He pumped his hips once. "These eyes can't survive without you gazing at them", he said as he nipped on your chest. You heard a chair move.

"You're too rough", Suguru shoved Satoru away.

"You're too nice", Satoru continued nipping at your breasts with his hand around your throat.

"Satoru....move", you tried to wiggle your hips towards him but to no avail.

"Don't worry, princess, he will", Suguru stood behind Satoru and pulled him back by the shoulder. He planted a love bite on his neck at which Satoru groaned. Suguru pulled your leg around Satoru's waist, his clothed hardness rubbing against his back.

Satoru pulled your hands over your head. He breathed hard as Suguru entered him. You trembled as he twitched inside you. And every thrust of Suguru, Satoru had no choice but to move inside you. Your hands grasped at the silver locks of your fiance.

"Fuck Suguru", Satoru groaned, "Let me make my point, I'll do you later"

Suguru pulled him up. "Be nicer", he gave him a kiss.

Satoru frowned. He took a look at your heaving form before pushing Suguru back. He leaned closer again, planting sweet kisses on your face. "I don't know if you mean it when you say you love me but I don't give a shit anymore", he whispered, "I love you. And I can't live without you". He picked up a steady pace. "Don't you see Suguru?", his thrusts grew hard and precise, marking his every word, "She's a special grade now. And you want me to be happy? She'll take more difficult and dangerous missions. I already worry about you, now I have to worry about her too?"

"I'm...I'm not made...of glass", you struggled to put together as Satoru's length kissed your G-spot.

"I know. I don't care. Shit happens", Satoru cupped your warm cheek, "I want you. I want us, all of us, to be like this forever. Don't you?"

"Satoru"

"Open your eyes, baby"

You had not realised you had closed them. Satoru's face was peering over you, close enough to touch. "Promise me you'll put yourself first", he panted, "Fuck the world"

"For once we agree", Suguru came up behind you, planting a kiss on your swetened forehead.

"Promise me you'll be selfish", he kept your legs in place around him as he pounded inside you, "Promise you'll come back every time"

"You wouldn'-"

He stopped thrusting, keeping his length inside you as he circled his hips. "I need two words from you baby", he leaned closer, "Two words and I'll have you creaming on my cock"

"Suguru"

"No princess he's right", he kissed your hands, "I need to hear it too"

"I- I promise"

"Good", Satoru captured your lips again. He drunk in your shriek as he resumed his thrusts, his hips slapping hard against yours. "I need you", he said, "If you stray from your word I'll just fuck you so hard before every mission that you won't be able to walk there"

"Satoru"

He groaned as you squeezed him. "And if you ever die on me I ll find you in the next life and fuck you stupid"

"SATORU!", your orgasm hit you hard, your form shaking underneath Satoru's body. He kissed your neck as your arms searched for his to hold. "Fuck Satoru", tears fell from your eyes as you tried to calm your trembling body down.

He showered your nose with kisses. "I'd say that was the best I've done my love"

"More than...oh my God'

He bit your lip. "Remember your promise", he whispered, "I'm being serious"

"Either let me finish or come suck me off", Suguru nudged Satoru.

You weakly sat on your elbows. "I'm sorry Suguru I-"

Satoru's lips stopped the rest of your sentence from spilling. "No you don't go kneel to that bastard", he said. "These lips are mine alone", he traced his thumb over your mouth before doing the same to your entrance, "It already hurts me sharing these".

"You're both mine", you pulled him close by the nape, "Not the other way around"

"Fuck yes we are, you vixen", he bit your lip before pulling away to face Suguru, who had returned to spreading his body on the bed, back on the frame. Gojo leaned down to take Suguru in his mouth. "You're enjoying this too much", he told Getou, "You're next on my list you know"

"Oh you have no idea-ah", he breathed out a sigh of pleasure when Gojo ran his tongue down his length.

You lay on the bed, too weak to stand. Yet you could not help but rub your legs together at the sight of your mens' faces as they fell apart. A hand crept its way between your thighs. You startled. You looked to the side and saw Satoru winking at you, his fingers pressing on your entrance before your legs allowed him inside. You flipped on your back so he could pleasure you with ease.

"God, y/n", Suguru groaned, "I'm never gonna get rid of this ha-"

"Shut up", you moaned as Satoru sped up his thrusts. You ran your hands over your breasts, your hips riding his hand. The night was only just beginning.

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto #suguru x reader x satoru #satoru x reader x suguru #geto x reader x gojo #gojo x reader x geto

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nburkhardt · 3 months

Note

perhaps five for the cuddling prompts if you haven’t done it already? It just seems like something that they would say 🩵

5 - “I’m sorry, I’m probably suffocating you.” “No, I don’t mind. If I do happen to suffocate, just know I died happy.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Steve will admit he’s clingy. Very clingy actually. Like to the point where a nasty voice in the back of his head -that sounds a little like his dad- will curse him and call him names about it whenever he throws his presence around anyone.

Robin told him once that it’s probably because his parents didn’t give him a lot of affection, that he craves touch. It’s why she drapes over him whenever they’re hanging out, or when she decides to link arms whenever they’re walking. He loves her for it, especially loves how she said it’s not a bad thing to be this way.

That he’s allowed to be clingy, to give affection.

Nearly all of his past relationships didn’t like it, thought it was too much. Nancy liked it for the first few months and somewhere along the way, told him to pull it back a little. Maybe that’s when he should’ve realized she didn’t feel the same way.

Which is why he decided to back down with his clingy tendencies around Eddie. Doesn’t want to push him away or give him the chance to hurt him. Because if Eddie learns how much he can be or that he has feelings, it could very easily change. He could lose this.

He thinks that he’s successful with pulling away, until Eddie corners him during movie night at the trailer.

Hopping up, he wiggles his empty can to wordlessly tell Eddie about grabbing a new one. It’s a quick few minutes and when he sits back down, Eddie is pausing the movie.

“Uh, what?” Steve looks at him, “Eds?”

Eddie sat the remote down and turned fully towards him. Determination on his face, arms now crossed and it’s leaving Steve confused. They were fine just a second ago.

“Are you upset with me?” Eddie asks, and it really throws Steve for a loop, “Stevie, you’re not where you’re supposed to be”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Steve opens his mouth a few times before closing it and crossing his own arms, “Eddie, what? That, what are you talking about?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, uncrossing his arms to throw them up and grip at the air before dropping them to Steve’s leg. It makes him pull it away and Eddie lets out a hum, “That! You’re pulling away from me, I thought you liked touch? It’s movie night and you’re sitting so far away from me, I miss my space heater. Miss my sunshine”

It makes him tense up, eyes widen and his heart to go in overdrive. A million thoughts race and he can’t- there’s, “Ed- what, um. Are you, are you saying that, you like how clingy I am?” He cringes as he speaks.

“Stevie, Steve, Honeylove, I will always love how clingy you are.” Eddie smiles and slowly reaches towards him before lightly touching Steve’s arm and Steve looks towards it before meeting Eddie’s eyes, finding unsaid question; can I touch?

All he can do is nod and watch as Eddie smiles and pulls him hard enough to make him fall directly on top of him.

Being this close, Steve can feel how fast Eddie’s heart is beating. Feels his own heartbeat beats along just as fast, it makes his eyes widen as he looks at Eddie’s face.

“Teddy?”

Eddie hums and wraps his arms around him, “hm?”

“What are you saying?”

Eddie squeezes him, “Want ya clingy, want you.”

Steve freezes and it seems like forever as he meets Eddie’s eye. Finding a fond expression, “I’ve wanted to ask for a while, ya know? Thought I had time to figure out the best way but someone,” he presses a finger to Steve’s back, “decided to pull away recently and I’ve decided that’s not happening, that I need my cuddly sunshine baby.”

It brings tears up and giggles bubble up, as he shifts to hide his face. Squeezing him and presses him more into the couch, “sorry, Teddy. Probably suffocating you”

Eddie clicks his tongue, “Nah, darling. I don’t mind, If I do happen to suffocate, just know I died happy. Because, I really love you.”

Steve grins, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder before shifting to look down at him, “I really love you too, you sap”

Can I just say I really don’t think it makes perfect sense? Maybe it does and it’s just me, my edible hit me half way into this. I think I rambled a bit, lost the plot a bit.

Hope you still like it tho!!!!!

Cuddling prompts

#steddie #steve x eddie #nburkhardt writes #finntheehumaneater #what a weird get together moment tbh #idk it just kinda wrote itself

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shigamochii · 1 month

Text

Shigaraki Headcannon's Again:

CW: SFW, Slight Mention's of NSFW but it's mostly SFW. Mention's of s/o. f!reader.

★.🩸.★

Music Taste:

I like to think Tomura listens to metal and heavy metal music such as: Slipknot, Metallica, Rammstein, etc. I do like to think he listens nu-metal music as well. (ex: KoRn, Static-X, Nine Inch Nails, etc.).

I feel like Tomura would secretly love pop music from the 2000's or like emo music from that era, it's mostly like MCR. It's hard to imagine him listening to crunkcore or scenecore stuff. I'm open minded with it.

If Tomura has a gf (s/o) he would be happy to share his selection or taste in music with you, he enjoys sharing his interests with the person he truly loves.

Tomura does still wear his usual outfit which consists of his long sleeve v-necked shirt and black pants that reveal his ankles. In his downtime or whenever the LoV doesn't have anything going on, he chills around base in a casual t-shirt and sweats.

If you're wondering.. yes, he wears band t-shirts sometimes. I like to think his most favorite one is Slipknot not only does he like the music/band but likes the shirt designs.

I don't really see Tomura being one to head bang to the music he plays, I like to think he uses this genre of music as a sort of stress reliever, if that makes sense? I do the same thing so.. ya lmao.

Aside from just metal music, I think Tomura would listen to vaporware or some type of synthwave music. Perhaps some 80's pop and rock.

If you and Tomura are cuddling he would most likely put on something more calm and relaxing to fit the mood between the two of you. It wouldn't be much of a good idea to play metal while trying to unwind and cuddle lol.

If Tomura has wireless earbuds or even wireless, he would definitely want to share his earbud with you, again I think the man would want to share his music taste with you and only you. Tomura knows you won't judge him for his interests on anything and he loves you for that, heh.

*Dumb Thought: but if you have a driver's license since y'know Shiggy can't drive because of his quirk or maybe he can, idk. If you're on a drive together, you'll let him play music. Shiggy loves playing DJ in the car. It makes him feel special.

★.🩸.★

NSFW Mention's (18+):

(these might not be good so.. bear with me..)

If you and Tomura are engaging in sexual activities we would most likely play music that's toned down, maybe soft rock.

I like to think one time Shiggy played metal while pounding away at your pussy and after that day you banned him from playing metal while the two of you fucked. You were extremely sore after that day too lmao.

Shiggy loves fucking you to sexual songs and I mean heavily sexual songs like: Closer, Freaky Now, Tonight I'm Fucking You, etc. He thinks it kind of sets the mood to get down and dirty.

I also see Shiggy not playing music all the time, he enjoys hearing your cute little mewls and moans when he thrusts into you, he loves hearing the sounds of his skin against yours. He just wants to hear you in general.

★.🩸.★

That is all l have so far, some random headcannon's based around Tomura and music. I'll try to do more in the future if I can think of any to do, if you have any ideas my inbox is open. If I haven't gotten back to anyone, I promise I'm not ignoring sometimes I'm really unsure on how to answer certain asks in my inbox.

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shiragaki #shimura tenko #tenkoshimura #shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader fluff #shigaraki x reader smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki simp #shigaraki headcanons #mha

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n0ct0urn1quet · 2 years

Text

quick gotta gaypos before gf comes online!!!!!!!!! aaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!! @vergildotcom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#GOGH #u make me verey haby . did u kno that!!!!!#did u kno that u make me . VEREY habby #and also u are perhaps the funniest person alive methinks. girl u made me laugh so hard my chest hurt yesterday #my stomach HURt my head HURT because i was just WHEEZINGF #god . u are v ery funny i think. watchiong u play gta gives me the serotonin i so desperately need #but also just vcing with u gives me serotonin!!!!!!!!#i actually got good sleep last night btw.like bc we seppyd in the vc together i actually slept cosyily #n ngl i jus felt. like. Safer. its nice seepiong with u in the vc bc even if we arent physically together yet its still nice to jus like #have Company yk. theres just something comforting abt laying n vcing with u and like hearing u snore or hearing ur bed rustle as u roll ovr #its jus !!!!!!! comforting bc its like . i am not alone :']#sorey if that sounds weird though i just realized maybe it sounds a bit weird but !!!!! idk its just comforting to me #ik its kinda frustrating for u bc ur phone mic isnt the bestbut what u should do is jus like get a cheap pair of earbuds or somtehin #MUCH comfier to sleep in n most earbuds come with a lil mic which usually dont work very well but work better than a phone mic lol #but idk u just :] make me habbie!!!!!!! slepeing with u in the vc makes me happie <:] its cosy and comfortibng....#i just lov u veeeeeeeeeery much maria <:] u make me the BEEG habby . u gib me The Serotnonins! and that is ebic :]#i love u loooooooots :] :] u are my lobly beloby !!!!!!!!!!!#my cribly bibly! !!!!!! ur very prebby and cute and niceys 2 me and just njdbfgkjg!!!!#ur epic . im lov u :]

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juanarc-thethird · 1 year

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You know I was really hoping there would be way more Jaune x Jessica stuff online at this point. But even if I count all the art works fanfics and everything in between, I would probably still have fingers to spare. It's just kind of disappointing.

I know, and that's sad. Let's change that a bit. This is part of the "HandHolding Stuff" -------------------

Can I stay with you tonight?

Jessica is sitting on one of the academy balconies, watching the stars on the horizon. Suddenly Jaune appears and sits next to her.

Jaune: Hey

Jessica: Hey

Silence

Jaune: So... tomorrow is the day you return to your world, eh.

Jessica: Yeah...

Jaune: Are you excited?

Jessica: I guess...

Jaune: Are you okay? You sound down.

Jessica: Well… *sighs* It's nothing.

Jaune: *Smiles* Come on, you can tell me. I'm here for you.

Looking at Jaune smiling, Jessica feels relieved as a bit of the weight she felt has disappeared. But the pressure is still there.

Jessica: You see… I'm thinking about not going back to my world.

Jaune: *Worry* Why not? Perhaps… and excuse me for saying this… are you perhaps afraid of going back to your world?

Jessica: I am not afraid to return. In my world, I have my friends, family, and I am part of something big. But…

Jaune: But...?

She looks at Jaune with sad eyes.

Jessica: ...I don't want to get away from you.

Jaune: Jessica....

Jessica: *Looks away* I know I have to go back. I have people who count on me, but the idea of being without you… I don't like it. Jaune, I lov-

Jessica turns to see Jaune again but is surprised by a kiss. The kiss is sweet and soft, something she didn't expect to happen today, but it's welcome.

Jaune: *Soft smile* I love you too.

He puts his hand on her cheek and she touches his hand with hers. Snuggling deeper into his palm. They both smile, enjoying each other's company.

Jessica: Jaune...

Jaune: Yes?

Jessica: Can I stay with you tonight?

Moments later...

Jessica: Jaune... Aah~💕

Jaune: Jessica~

The two hold each other so tight, as if they were afraid of losing the other. Jessica moves her hips, feeling Jaune's member go in and out of her.

Jessica: You are so deep~ I love it~💕

Jaune: Fuck, you're too tight~

Jessica: *Smug* What? Are you about to cum?~ Mm~💕

Jaune: S-Shut up

Jessica: *giggles* I'm sorry, but... *whispers in his ear* ..you can cum inside of me if you want.

Jaune was triggered by those words. He took Jessica's ass with both hands, and started bouncing her in his lap.

Jessica: Oh Jaune!~💕 Fuck me just like that!~ I love it when you grab my ass!

Jaune: Jessica!~💕

Jaune is about to explode. He places his head on her neck and fucks her harder and faster.

Jessica: YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME! IT FEELS SO GOOD!

Jaune: Jessica, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!~

Jessica: I'M ABOUT TO CUM TOO, LET'S DO IT TOGETHER!~💕

Jaune: JESSICA!

Jessica: JAUNE!~💕

A wave of pleasure ran thought Jessica's entire body. Her muscles tensed, and her back arched as Jaune shot his load deep inside her. She can only feel so much cum gushing out of her pussy as she dig deep her nails on Jaune's back. Ecstasy filled their minds and completely distract them from everything around them at that very moment. After a while, they take a breather and talk.

Jaune: That was…

Jessica: ...amazing~

The two laugh for a second, and look at each other with loving eyes and in silence. Until one of them spoke.

Jaune: I love you Jessica.

Jessica: I love you too, Jaune.

The rest of the night the two of them spent cuddling while they slept. Feeling each other's warmth for the last time. The next day the two lovers said goodbye, hoping to see each other again.

#jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #Jessica cruz #rwby #handholding stuff #DC #Knightlight #jaune x jessica #jaune arc x jessica cruz #rwby jaune arc x jessica cruz #rwby jaune x jessica #rwby knightlight

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quimichi · 6 months

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can u write about itto crying for u and you tugging on his horns..? just needy, like he missed you and was so so upset after having a bad nightmare that you left

: ̗̀➛ ITTO BEING NEEDY AND WHINY AFTER A NIGHTMARE OF YOU CAUSE HE MISSES YOU

Itto x Creator!Reader

Itto is missing you terribly.

His heart aches with his thoughts of you— your smile, your laugh, your presence. He misses the way that you look at him, the way that he could gaze into your eyes and feel like everything would be alright. The nightmare he had of you, leaving him forever, for good, felt way to real.

Without you, Itto feels like his heart is about to be torn from his chest, and he cannot imagine life without you by his side. The thought of never hearing your laughter again is one that leaves him shaking. He knows you're only gone for a night, maybe two.

Though he knows intellectually that you are only gone for a short while, Itto's heart doesn't care. His body aches in your absence, and he feels lost without your presence. Each night without you leaves him trembling, wishing for the moment that he could press his head into your shoulder again.

Itto sobs like a child alone in the dark who is afraid and wants nothing but for your warmth to comfort him. He feels nothing besides your absence, and without you, he could not even imagine wanting to live. He's needy, he's aware. But he cant help it.

Itto's sobs quiet to a whimper. He feels so pathetic for crying in your absence, but nothing can stop him. All he wants right now is to feel your touch. A simple hug from you is all he desires, if only to comfort him.He closes his eyes, hoping that he can somehow teleport just to be with you. He waits, willing and hoping that you might reach out to him through his dreams. Even in the most desperate of hopes, he wants you to hear him.

"Please..." he whispers silently.

"It's okay now Itto" Itto's eyes open instantly.

Was that your voice talking to him? Was it really you? Or was he just hearing things?

He looks around in his desperation to see you, but he only sees the void of the darkness surround him.He gulps as he wipes his eyes.

"Your Grace, d-did you call me? Are you here?" He asks, his hopes still high. Perhaps you'd heard his pleas, and had come to him after all? "Yes"

Itto's eyes light up like the brightest of fires.He can't waste a moment more, and so he moves with a speed that he hardly knew he could achieve. He launches himself into your arms, his hair falling over your chest. He trembles as he presses his cheeks against your chest, desperate for your touch to calm him.

He clings to you for life itself. Your hug is like a balm for his wounded heart. He could have your embrace every moment of his life if it would ease the empty ache without you. He is at peace only when you hold him, and now he is free of his pain and anxiety. He leans into you, and he is finally himself again.

With a gentle yet firm touch you pull him closer by his horns to press a kiss to his forehead. Itto can't help but melt as you press your lips to his forehead. He feels loved, and cherished, and valued— he feels as if he's returned home after so long. It's a warmness that fills him, which he has never felt before you.

And even though his skin heats as your lips touch him, He doesn't move or pull away. He could stay in this place for the rest of his life.

"There you go..." softly you wipe his tears away, letting your thumbs rest on his watery cheeks, "is my needy boy all better now?" Itto gulps and nods. He takes a deep breath in, and out once again

"Y-Yes," he whispers, his voice still trembling. "M-My need has been sated."

Now he smiles to you, his face relaxed, despite having been crying so much. He is with you again, and he is at peace. His cheeks flush with color as the warm touch of your hand caresses his face. For all his strength of body and will, there is something vulnerable about the way you hold him. He feels so safe, and he doesn't want your hand to ever leave his face.

He loves when you touch him. He feels so soft and gentle, and it makes his breath hitch in this chest.

The way your fingers trace his face as you hold him feels so tender and loving. Even though he tries not to seem like it, it is something he loves and craves. He craves your touch.

He craves your affection.

Most of all, he craves you.

#arataki itto #genshin itto #itto #itto x reader #Genshin itto #genshin impact itto #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin cult au #Sagau itto #Sagau itto x reader #arataki itto x reader

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

Text

“Dating” Dabi

~Dabi x Fem! Reader~

Warnings: SPOILERS, suggestive themes, mentions of violence, unhealthy relationship themes and toxic behaviors

A/N: this is my second time posting MHA content and idek what made me wanna write this but I’ve been in a Dabi mood ever since watching “Dabi’s dance” lol. I hope I captured his character well since this is the first time I’ve ever written for him :o

Blue text = You | Purple Text = Dabi

The league liked to say you two were dating, though you were fairly certain that he didn’t see it that way at all

Something was always hanging heavy on his mind, yet you’d never been able to get him to speak up about it

You’d bicker often, call each other names, but usually it was nothing serious. Eventually you found yourself “falling” for the scar covered man

Your pent up feelings came pouring out of you one night, standing with him on the roof of a building where nobody would be able to see either of you

You could still remember his cigarette smoke lingering in the air as you poured heart out to a man who simply couldn’t care less.

“I appreciate it… but I’m not looking for love.”

“I figured, but it was killing me not to tell you.”

You had felt a bit defeated, embarrassed even for letting Toga convince you it wouldn’t hurt to just tell him

“Though… I wouldn’t mind someone sharing my bed.”

Your self pity party came to a screeching halt, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“I’m not looking for anything serious. Just someone to keep me company…”

You watched him inhale before puffing the smoke out between his lips, eyes surveying the city around you.

You knew what he was implying, hell you were close to nearly screaming out yes

You were a villain just like him, there was no future for you that would allow you to settle down or have a boyfriend or anything domestic of that sort

You were willing to play pretend if he was

“So you’re saying… friends with benefits.”

He snapped his finger, chuckling softly. “Pretty much.”

For a man that claimed he wasn’t looking for love, that he wasn’t capable of even feeling those emotion, he certainly knew how to pretend.

He almost had you believing that his words were truth

Perhaps it had been the heat of the moment talking, but you’d never heard him talk so highly of anyone, not even Shigaraki.

“You’re taking me so well… fuck if I knew you’d wanted me this bad earlier…”

On that very rooftop, where nobody could see you, Dabi fulfilled your desires.

Your relationship hadn’t changed at all, you still bickered, you still called each other names, now you just shared a bed on nights were you were both lonely

He was still emotionally unavailable, but more talkative with you and honestly you didn’t mind it one bit

Deep down you knew he was simply using you, getting his stress out by using your body

But you couldn’t exactly say that you weren’t using him for the same reason

It would take about six months of this relationship before Dabi kissed you outside of sex

Just as you had caught him off guard that night on the roof, he caught you off guard alone at the bar in your hideout.

“I told you I wasn’t in the mood…”

“Neither am I.”

“Then why did you…”

He shrugged “felt like it.”

He was so cut off from his emotions, so much so that he truly couldn’t offer you an explanation even if had one

You didn’t push, instead you busied yourself with your drink and tried to forget about it

Dabi wouldn’t let you though, stealing kisses when nobody was around and finding your embarrassed face to be quite amusing

Dabi didn’t realize he cared for you until you came back to the hideout one night a bloodied mess.

Though, even then, care was pushing it. If anything he felt protective… something he’d honestly never felt before

Sure he wanted to keep the other members of the LoV alive, but you? Seeing you messed up bothered him

“What the fuck happened?”

“Wasn’t the heroes… some grimy group of wanna be thugs.”

“Wanna be thugs but they fucked you up like this?”

He was fuming, hand griping your forearm tightly as you tried to move away from him

“They caught me off guard, one of ‘em had a powerful quirk. It doesn’t matter now, they’re dead.”

That gave him some satisfaction but not nearly enough

“Did you make them suffer?”

You cracked a smile despite the pain radiating through your body “Of course I did.”

That night you saw a side of him you didn’t think he had, it was quiet and gentle as he tended to your wounds.

Protective even, that night he had kept you close to his side as you slept.

For once in his life, his blinding hatred was subsiding just a bit, enough to let some other emotion seep out.

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 1 month

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 12: Catharsis

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}

"Then say it, Astarion,” she urges him. Her lower lip trembles. She unconsciously bites it to quell the movement. A single fang peeks out and glints in the sunlight, white as the purest snow. “Open the bond and say it.”

“I…I-” he trails off with a rasp and cracking voice. The words are lodged in his esophagus and anchored on the tip of his tongue. That presence in his mind tugs at his psyche, grappling for control. It speaks its ethereal omens. “ She will be your end. She spins her web of destruction even now. When she snares you, she will crush you in her grasp, and when you finally break, I will be there to claim you once again." He grimaces at the ill-portent and cedes, “Perhaps you are right. This is a conversation better had at home.”

She nods, crestfallen and stares at the lake with a longing look that he does not like to see upon her face. It’s the look of defeat. All hope is lost and withered away. She yearns for stillness and obscurity to quiet her mind. Yes, he knows the expression inlaid on her features well.

Is he putting her in further danger if he says it? Could the voice in his head be speaking truths?

He’s said it before. What stops him?

Is it a lie? He is no liar.

He said it before….

He said it….

Gods. It’s hard to think clearly with this tittering in his head, defiling his thoughts with its blighted ballad. The presence screams that she is a threat. She has cast some sort of spell on him. “A trick!” It chimes, “A clever, beautiful trick by a clever, beautiful sorceress. She means to unravel you! She means to break you apart, crumble you into pieces and dance on your ashes!”

She would not do such a thing. Would she? Could she? He has used his beauty to mislead many in the past centuries. Is it possible she is doing the same? She cannot scourge him physically, but mentally… well, that is a fate far worse than even death.

She would not trick him. She need not trick him. He already lov-

Hells below, he cannot even think it, let alone say it aloud.

He can force her. He can make her his with naught but a thought. She already belongs to him. He can pull her strings and make her dance, a puppet upon his world stage because he is the Vampire Ascendant, and he can take anything he pleases.

No. He grimaces at the sadistic notion and how good and powerful it makes him feel. His thoughts become contorted and serpentine too easily these days, a pit of snakes twisting themselves into tangled knots.

She wants something real. She deserves something real, but what in the Hells does real look like? Is it supposed to be like in the silly stories he’s read? Surely not. Those are just a conglomerate of lovely words, trussed into pretty lies that the eyes can view.

He hears them before he sees them. They stand idle in the shadows, trying to hide their heartbeats behind the thundering hoofs of the horses and the wind whipping through the trees. They do not smell like powdered iron-vine.

They are learning.

They should not know he is here, but he does not have time to ruminate on it. His heart detonates in his chest, leaping around like a frightened bird in a cage. The presence in his head serenades him, pulling at its chains, pleading to be unleashed. He needs to get her away from here, from them and himself, before he sinks.

“Run!” He commands.

She hesitates, her pouty lips set into a hard line while she scowls at him and protests his commands. She draws the Weave. It shimmers around her like a vapour in the air. She is beautiful.

She challenges him at every damn turn. He loves it. He loves her for it.

He loves her…

She will not leave of her own accord. Even if he begs, an army cannot make her leave his side, and he knows it. He knows what he must do, but he does not wish to do it. Taking her control from her, forcing her into servitude, the idea used to thrill him. When did that stop?

Yet, he will always do what he must, even if it pains him as he has always done.

He confiscates her control, “Run to the manor as fast as you can and stay there until I return. You will stop for no one and nothing.”

She’s going to berate him later for this, but at least she will be alive to admonish him.

She sprints, and he summons every werewolf, every bat, and every ghoul he can, “Follow her!” He sends several away as the hunters rush him. He parries and dodges, sinking his blades into ribs, necks, and chests. “Protect her at all costs. Signal me when she is out of the forest and return here.”

Gods, his head hurts as he’s torn, the rattling of chains in his head splitting his concentration, but he must make sure she makes it out before he can give in and be overtaken. What will he lose this time? Whenever he drowns, something is stolen from him - a memory becomes snapped and riven like looking into a broken mirror, another part of the real him lost.

Once he hears the baying signal, he lets go and allows himself to be consumed, and all is black, black, black.

Shadowheart tugs on your limbs and clothes, wrapping her arms around your waist and heaving with all her strength. Her voice resounds, but it sounds like a faint, distant whisper, like the sigh of a weary breeze over barren plains. You feel like you’re staring at yourself from a distance. Fatigued, faded and lusterless, you’re a relic of what was and what could have been, just another corpse littering the earth. The skyline is the indigo and blue hues of impending dawn, and the stars no longer stare down on this tragedy as they wink out like eyes shutting against an unexpected bright light. When the sun rises, you will float away and be forgotten in the sands of time.

You were so close. Gods, so fucking close. In the end, Astarion had been right. Love hailed itself a saviour and became your destroyer.

“The sun is rising,” Shadowheart pants, panicked as she tries to pry your fingers from their clutch on Astarion, but they might as well be fused to him. “We don’t have a second longer to lose.”

Each time you blink, a new memory appears and plays in your mind’s eye. Some good. Some bad. Some terrible. Is this what they mean when people say your life flashes before your eyes at death? The reliquary opens, and your hopes, dreams and broken pieces are laid before you to gaze upon.

“Astarion would not want this!” Shadowheart raves, agitation and dread, making her voice tremble. She shakes your shoulders and hauls on them. “He would not want you to die!”

I am already dead.

The first thin golden strings of the newborn sun weave their way through the trees, a grand lace of radiant light that falls upon your pearlescent, colourless skin. Shadowheart screams, her heartbeat pounds in your ears, her blood a tidal wave through her veins as she tries to cocoon you with her body and limbs so the light cannot consume you.

“I’ve got her, Shadowheart,” Astarion’s faint voice charges the air. “I’ve always got her.”

You barely catch it, another whispering flutter in the air, but his chest shudders underneath you, and you’re plunged into your body. Your eyes snap to his, which are open in a hairline split. Crismon barely peeks through behind thick lashes, but somehow, you know he’s looking straight at you.

You grab his hands, interlocking your fingers with his, “Astarion?”

He does not answer, but his fingers twitch, and his grip tightens, if only by a barely perceivable fragment.

Shadowheart clambers, her hands glowing the baby blue hue of her magic so brightly that she could rival the sun as she focuses every morsel of power she has left. She slams her splayed hands onto Astarion’s chest with a thump that makes him wheeze and cough, and he’s bathed in vivid blue.

“You’re not burning.” Shadowheart’s chest swells and recedes like waves over a storm-tossed ocean with exertion, “Is he?”

Astarion stills again, eyes closed. Yet, you do not burn as the rays of light prance over your skin. Your ears perk and quiver as they catch the faint, feeble beating in his chest.

You smile at Shadowheart and throw your arms around her, “His heart beats. He lives. Thank you, Shadowheart. Good Gods, thank you.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed beside Astarion and fixate on him. Shadowheart helped you get him home and into bed, but he’s still not stirred more than some muttering and twitching in his sleep in three days. You’ve not left his side to sleep or eat, and you’re getting hungry. Very hungry. Shadowheart refuses to leave despite your insistence that she is not safe with you. With each passing second, it gets harder and harder to ignore her presence. Astarion’s heartbeat is of no concern to you, but hers… good Gods. Hers sounds like a culinary delight being offered to a starving ogre. You forgot how hard it was to be around the living with their delicious-smelling blood and beating hearts, begging to be tasted.

I’m a monster.

Shadowheart knocks and lets herself into Astarion’s bedroom. She yawns and stretches. You can hear her bones cracking and grimacing at the sound assaulting your ears, “Still nothing?”

“No,” you mumble, clutching fistfuls of bedsheets to stop yourself from scratching your skin in front of her. “His heart sounds stronger and beats more rhythmically, but he hasn’t woken.”

Shadowheart nods toward him, “May I?”

She’s been continuing to heal him every day as much as she can until she needs to sleep and recuperate. You’re surprised she’s putting so much effort into helping him. You thought she hated him, but there is worry etched into the lines of her expression and sadness you did not think you would see, at least when it came to him. You push yourself against a wall, splaying your hands against the wood. You cannot let her get too close to you. You are dangerous. Being a vampire spawn has not been as easy as Astarion made it look. Although, it is substantially less difficult when you’re well-fed.

“Go ahead,” you nod at Shadowheart with a small smile, “but always be wary of me. I cannot be trusted.”

She scoffs, laying a hand on Astarion and reciting incantations in a repeating melody, “You lived with me for a year, and you only tried to kill me once. I trust you. You have better control than you believe, but I will be on guard.”

You wince at the memory. It had been only a few weeks into living with Gale and Shadowheart after they found you in the sewers, starving, writhing and feral with hunger. Astarion had made being a spawn look easy. He could be around blood and gore, and it barely seemed to affect him, but you learned quickly that it was not as simplistic as that. Shadowheart and Gale could not understand why you would not leave your room or why you barricaded yourself in there with every spare piece of furniture you could. One night, you had ventured down, and Shadowheart had been cooking after having had quite enough of Gale’s dry and tasteless food. She nicked herself with a knife chopping vegetables. A small wound, but the blood in the air sent you into a feeding frenzy, blacking out everything but that delicious sanguine tang and you had lunged at her. Gale cast sleep on you before you could bite. Shadowheart laughed it off, but it was a wake-up call to you.

You are dangerous. You cannot be trusted, and you cannot trust yourself. Bloodlust overrides everything else far too easily.

Shadowheart’s magic washes over him again but with little noticeable effect, and she frowns at her palms as if somehow it’s her fault.

“He’s improving,” you assure her, disheartened by her sullen look. “Every time, he improves. His heart beats stronger.”

She clenches her fist with a nod and a grin, walking over to the chair at the other end of the room. She gives you once over and states, “You’re hungry.”

You swallow hard, crawl onto the bed and place your hand on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat in your palm, and it comforts you, “Yes. I’m very hungry,” you don’t bother trying to conceal it. “You should leave Shadowheart. I know you mean well, and I am grateful for all your help, but I am not Astarion. I do not have the control he does.”

“He keeps you well fed,” she points at Astarion. It’s not a question, and you cock your head at her, “You were skin and bones when you left, but you’re looking healthy again. You’re looking like yourself. I imagine you’ve not gotten much better at hunting, so he must do it for you.”

Your fingers curl into him, “He’s trying to teach me,” you laugh lowly for the first time in days. “He says I’m atrocious. I believe he called it an affront to the gods themselves,” you try to mimic his voice while rolling your eyes. “He takes me out every night, usually.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Shadowheart’s brows pinch. “You said you didn’t have time to explain it, but we have nothing but time while we wait on him. Gods. Is he always this lazy?”

She’s trying to cheer you up, and you giggle at her. You’ve missed her. Shadowheart was not overly pleased when you showed up as a spawn, but she accepted it when you told her it was what you wanted. Shadowheart has been the only one, other than Astarion, who you can be brutally honest with regarding your morbid urges.

“He always did enjoy his beauty sleep,” you shrug with a giggle, and she grins. “The Rite had more consequences than we assumed,” you sigh, “Not entirely surprising. As for what exactly, I cannot be sure yet, but I think it would be best if he tells you himself - if he wants to.”

“I understand. If he allows it, I will help any way I can,” she nods. She will not pry because she would want the same choice if it were her, and you would never give away her secrets, just as you refuse to give away his, “You need not be alone in this.”

Hells below. Shadowheart never fails you.

“I could hug you right now, Shadowheart.” You smile, fangs bared, because you do not need to hide from her, “But can we perhaps wait until I’ve eaten and you’re not looking so godsdamn delicious?”

“I’ll have you know that I am as delicious as you are pale. I will have to tell Astarion to get you out into the sun more often,” she giggles as you groan. You’ve had enough sun for a while after your last dalliance with it, “I will take the hug when you’re feeling less peckish. I like my blood in my veins.”

Peckish is an understatement. You could eat a bear, or two, or three, or perhaps an army of them right now. Those hunger cramps and spasms in your muscles are starting to make themselves known and hard to control. Your mouth is a salivating spring, and you have to swallow excessively lest you drool. If Astarion does not wake soon, you will have to push Shadowheart out with physical force if she does not heed your warnings.

“You really should think about going home, Shadowheart,” you urge with a plea that wobbles your intonation. Your hand hovers over bandaged wounds. The superficial ones healed long ago, but these. Gods. Any of these would have killed a mortal man instantly, and he has several, “Astarion just needs time to heal, I think.”

Shadowheart’s eyes flash with that pig-headed defiance you’ve come to know, and she sniffs, “I’m not leaving until he wakes,” she smirks as you grumble under your breath at her, “Is there anything you can tell me about what is going on with him?”

“I know this will be a challenge for you,” you smirk at her with a knowing glower, “But when he wakes, try not to make him angry. You two have always been like cats and dogs, but try not to push him too far. When he gets angry…. Well, let’s say he is not himself.”

“Don’t make him angry?” Shadowheart scoffs, crossing her arms and turning her nose up with a brashly twisted mouth, “Gods. That will be quite the task. He can be exceptionally insufferable.”

“I heard that.” Astarion grumbles, clicking his tongue while opening his eyes sluggishly, “I am a positively magnificent bastard, aren’t I?”

“Astarion!” You nosedive into him, wrapping your arms around him and basking in the warmth of his skin.

“Well, hello, little love,” he purrs comfortingly. His arm wraps around you and compresses you against his chest with his nose in your hair. He thrusts you back with one arm and scans you, “You are alright?”

“Me!?” You fight the overwhelming desire to shake him. He’s just woken up, and he’s asking about you? “You stupid, foolish idiot! When you are on your feet, you and I need to talk.”

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair, “I expected as much.”

Shadowheart stands, “I hate to break this up, but may I?”

She gestures to Astarion, and you nod, pulling out of Astarion’s grip with a reluctance that makes your skin crawl. Astarion arches a brow at your retreat. Shadowheart’s magic infuses his skin, healing him slightly further, and he looks at her confused.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Astarion,” Shadowheart emphasizes with a genuine smile. “She’s looking well. I owe you gratitude for that. She would not tell me what’s happened to you, but I would like to help if I can - if you will accept it. I don’t need your answer now, but think about it.”

“Uh,” Astarion is taken aback by Shadowheart’s authentic appreciation, but he recovers his detached mask quickly. “You’re welcome,” he says cooly, “I will think on your request. Please tell me this does not make us,” he cringes, “friends.”

Shadowheart scoffs, “Gods, no!”

“Good,” Astarion giggles. “I do positively enjoy our squabbling, after all.”

Astarion’s eyes swing to you, pressed against the wall as if you’re trying to melt into it. Your jaw is clenched hard, teeth rasping. Try as you might, you cannot hide the discomfort you’re feeling, and you look away from him, uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. He will recognize bloodlust.

Astarion pushes himself upright, “How long have I been out? Please tell me she’s at least tried to eat.”

Shadowheart answers before you do, “Three days and no. She has not left your side,” she points at you with a scowl, “Despite my insistence that she do so. You know how stubborn she can be.”

“Hells below.” Astarion is out of bed before you or Shadowheart can comprehend what’s happened, and he pulls you close to him with a tight grip on your waist, “I thank you for your assistance, Shadowheart, truly, but you should leave. It’s not safe for you to be around her. I will think about your offer and walk you out.”

Shadowheart puts her hand up with a shake of her head, “That is unnecessary. I can show myself out. Take care of her, Astarion. Do not make me regret saving your hide.”

Astarion chuckles, “I can only promise I will take care of her. You have my word."

Shadowheart smiles at you, “I will be expecting that hug once you’re feeling better.”

The shattered glass crunches under your feet as you walk through the shambles of what remains of the mirrors, vases and paintings you ravaged. Little pieces of mirror reflect the candlelight, spraying it in a flickering array across the walls and ceiling like a conglomerate of stars. Your fingers tremble over the curtains, but the anguish is fresh in your mind, and you can’t get yourself to open them. It feels grave to be away from Astarion, even though he’s upstairs, and you keep your hearing trained on his heartbeat, afraid that if you don’t, it might arrest.

With a sigh, you bend down and start to collect the broken fragments of the mirror that spurns your existence and remains empty despite your fingers gripping the surface. You breathe on the glassy surface. You know nothing will happen, but for a reason unknown to you, the refusal to acknowledge you sways you in a sudden grip on anger. You squeeze it, and the sharp edges slice into your fingers. Blood wells up, gliding and smearing on the surface, and you grin as if you’ve forced the damn thing to accept you are real.

“Decided to do a little redecorating, I see,” Astarion chuckles, arching a brow at the mess.

You whirl, compressing the pieces of mirror in your hand so hard they start to buckle and splinter further. You want to berate him for sending you away, screaming at him for compelling you and scolding him for dying and almost leaving you alone for eternity, but once your eyes meet his, the anger is washed away by relief. He’s alive, and for now, that’s all that matters.

I have an eternity to chastise him for being an idiot.

“Sorry.” It’s the best you can do.

Astarion walks toward you, and even though the floor is littered with rubble, his footsteps still make no sound. His fingers slip down your arm to the hand that’s clutching those broken pieces, blood still rolling down the surface.

“It’s okay, little love.” He coos, taking the fragments from you and letting them fall back to the floor. He kisses your blood-smeared fingers, “It was all horrific. Wasn’t it? We can redecorate.”

We?

Gods. He talks as if nothing has happened, and it vexes you, but you slip your arms around him, push your ear to his chest, and enjoy that steady and strong beat almost stolen from you.

Astarion kisses your temple, then forehead and then tilts your head up and moulds his lips to yours in a lingering kiss before pulling back and scowling at you. His voice is coarse and booming, “What you did in the forest was bloody stupid! What in the Hells were you thinking? You would have burned to death had Shadowheart’s damn wailing not roused me.”

“You don’t get to lecture me on stupidity.” You push him away and meet his ire with your own. “You should not have sent me away! I could have helped.”

“It’s not your problem,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, Gods,” you scoff at him, fingers curling into fists at your side, “Not this bullshit again! Your problems are my problems. When will you learn that?”

“No.” He hisses, “I failed you once, and the Gur nearly killed you. I will not fail you again.”

“You imbecile!” You scream, starting to weep, and you put your hand on a wall to keep yourself steady as the leaden weight of everything that’s happened descends, “You died! You were dead! You… you almost left me here all alone.”

The blaze of anger in his eyes winks out, sterilized by grief. Astarion’s brows rise, and the corners of his mouth turn down, “Oh, love, no.”

Astarion’s arms fold around you as your knees give out, and he braces you against him with a hand at the back of your head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles with his lips against your forehead.

You almost want to push him away, to give yourself some distance, because you are falling too hard, too fast, but he guides your head up, and warm ruby eyes unite with yours. The connection with him croons the invitation to open, and you don’t hesitate to answer. Everything floods in a downpour. All your nerves, synapses, and neurons buzz with the efflux of information. You squeeze your eyes shut as your body attempts to orient itself. You inhale several shaky breaths as his heart beats inside your chest. It’s uncomfortable, but Hells, you will gladly take that pain.

The flood eases and becomes pleasant, languid streams that cross softly, slowly, and you are one. You are whole. You are complete.

Before you can open your eyes again, you feel Astarion’s lips ghost over yours, and you part them for him in a gasp as you feel his desire ignite. A raw, almost feral passion, unbridled and uninhibited. It’s so potent it’s intoxicating, and your yearning bursts and throbs between your thighs. Astarion kisses you with ferocity, and his tongue darts into your mouth. His taste is rich, deep and dark, and you moan as you drink him in. His fingers slip into your hair at the back of your neck, holding you firmly while he pushes your back against the wall. He grinds his hips into you with a resonating growl as he pins you.

Good Gods. With the connection to him open, you feel everything. His pleasure. Your pleasure. All brimming and teeming as one ocean of bliss you’re going to drown in. Without his smooth skin against yours, you feel painfully bare, and you rip open his shirt, flinging buttons askew. Astarion slips your dress from your shoulders with a smug smirk and lustfully hooded eyes, and it pools at your feet as Astarion lets his shirt fall.

Pushing yourself against him, you sigh with a pining whimper. He feels pure and warm as sunshine, and he is the light that parts the gloom of sorrow that has clutched your heart for the past few days.

Astarion parts your folds, spreading them and stroking the slickness. He is not slow this time. He is not teasing. He is feverish in his need for you. The pads of his fingers find your aching center, swollen with want, and quickly settle into a rhythm that makes your body twitch and spasm with white-hot pleasure, making you arch off the wall. You moan loud and animalistic, whimpering his name like a verse that’s stuck in your head, and his throat steals your moans with his lips on yours as if he can taste the euphoria in your cries.

Tension coils in your belly, and Astarion moans deep and velvety smooth as you crest and dissolve for him. He doesn’t waste a moment. You can feel his urgency from the connection, and it makes you just as rabid. You need to feel him stretching you, massaging your walls, making you his.

With a quick snap of his wrist, his trousers are below his hips. His cock is hard and yearning, twitching in the candlelight. Astarion grips your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he buries himself into you with one quick thrust.

The pleasure is so intense, either his or yours or maybe it’s both combined, you do not know, but you clench around him so hard he hisses when he inhales and groans, bracing himself with his forearm on the wall as if he might fall over.

“F-fuck,” he pants. He pulls out slowly and slams back into you with a snap of his hips. “Tell me you love me,” he commands with another pump, plunging himself deeper.

Your ears barely perceive the words he’s saying while you sink into your mind-numbing ecstasy, but you know what he wants intuitively, “I love you,” you whimper, lacing your fingers into his soft curls.

Astarion’s pace increases, uncontrolled and more frantic, as he rears his hips back and drives into you. He pushes himself as close as he can possibly get while he pumps his into you.

“Again,” he instructs huskily as he finds a pace that snares all your senses. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathe, panting, bucking your hips to push against his thrusts, rolling them in the way you know drives him crazy. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat a whispering hymn.

Every nerve quivers in bliss, and your eyes roll back. You clench, gripping his cock tighter and tighter with every thrust.

“Come,” he growls the command darkly.

Your lips crash into his as you comply, your body submitting to his influence. It feels like a dream to obey, and you crash into your orgasm like a wave crashing upon a rocky shore. You cry out, fingers raking his skin, thighs squeezing him as you’re cast upon that shore time and time again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His hips stutter as the tremors massage his girth. “Again,” he barks with a groan, his breath hitching as he plunges into you erratic and needy.

Every pump of his hips is an ode to possession. Every twitch of his cock is a chorus of control. Every time he drives you to your peak is a sonnet to claim.

He owns you. You belong to him. You are his.

Yes, take me and make me yours.

You don’t know if they are your thoughts or his, but you hear his answer in your mind as it drifts on the slipstream of your bond.

“I will.”

Good Gods. Astarion means to make you shatter around him over and over until your body cannot possibly splinter any further. He means to take, take and take until you have nothing left to give, and even then, he means to take more.

And he does.

The smell of Honeysuckle, Vanilla and brandy is heavy and prevalent, arousing you gently back to your senses. Your eyes remain closed with lingering fatigue. The muscles in your body ache with an obnoxiously constant pang, and you groan and grumble under your breath at the sensation. There’s a serene tranquillity rife that you cannot quite explain, like a peaceful and undisturbed pond. You’re warm as if swaddled in a blanket made of sunlight.

Sunlight. Sun…

No. You should not be in the sun!

Your eyes snap open, and you flounder, graceless and clumsy. Steam rises all around you, and water swooshes and splashes over the sides of a ceramic-tiled tub, splashing against the floor.

“Easy, love,” Astarion chuckles, pulling you against his chest to stop your inelegant lumbering. “You’re alright.”

Your head quirks up, and your eyes meet his gaze. Candlelight treads and sways in the sanguine sea, and kindness coruscates, making them radiate softly.

You blink, and your hand slices through the water, “What in the Hells?”

“A bath,” he grins handsomely, sweeping wet strands of hair from your cheek and behind your ear tenderly. His fingers trace your jaw, “Apologies. I may have gotten a little… carried away.”

Carried away is one word for it, I suppose.

“Oh,” he giggles, beautiful and lighthearted, as careless as a child at play. It makes you smile. You came so close to never hearing that sound again. “And what’s the other word for it?”

Shit. He’s still in my head.

“Yes,” he kisses your temple, hugging you tighter. His fingers skim across your skin comfortingly, “I am still in your head as you are in mine.”

“You put me in a bath?” You arch your brow at him.

“It was necessary,” he smirks arrogantly. “I made quite a mess of you.”

Astarion reaches down, his fingers parting your folds, and you jump, confused at what exactly his goal is. “Relax,” he purrs. “This is not about sex.” His fingers rub over you gently, washing you and easing that soreness his enthusiasm caused. His feelings of affection and genuine, thoughtful compassion roll through the connection. “Unless you wish to go for round four? Or was it five? Or six? I could be persuaded.”

You groan and slump down further into the bath. Despite your exhaustion, your body responds to his touch as it always does, fire igniting within your stomach and desire making your skin prickle.

“Good Gods, Astarion,” you mumble with a sigh. “No more.”

“I thought not.” Astarion lathers his hands with soap and starts washing your arms, chest and back. He massages your stiff muscles with perfect pressure.

Should I be angry with him?

“Oh, don’t be sour,” he tsks, clicking his tongue and nuzzling your cheek. “You enjoyed yourself. I felt it. I felt it every godsdamn time. I almost couldn’t contain myself. You’re lucky I have such excellent control. That would undo a lesser man immediately.”

“You are full of yourself, aren’t you?” You laugh. Astarion’s cheerful mood is infectious, and you can’t help but feel a little bubbly with happiness yourself.

He shrugs, “Can you truly blame me? I am rather impressive.”

“I think it’s me that’s impressive,” you smirk with a wolfish grin, “If the exultant Vampire Ascendant could barely contain himself.”

“Sassy girl,” he tuts with a chuckle. “You are inconceivably enchanting. Even with an eternity, I could never get enough of all this.” He gestures over your body with seductive eyes but becomes more serious, “And whatever this is, between us, I could never tire of it, my love.”

My love…

The words descend in your mind, slow and tortuous like a feather falling from a great height. He does not love you. He said as much himself, and his silence and reluctance when you pressed him only cemented that. Yet, his actions speak different words, and his thoughts and feelings that you can feel utter different syllables. You don’t know which language to believe.

“I do,” his answer floats in your head, not out of his mouth.

You push away from him, whirling around in the enormous tub, splashing additional water over the edges. You need to see him, be able to watch and look in his eyes. His brows furrow in confusion, and he looks at the swaying water, “At least, I think I do.”

“What happened downstairs was not love. You want to possess me, control me and claim me. You want me to belong to you. I felt it,” you frown. It’s all so godsdamned confusing. “You craved ownership, not a partner. Is that love to you?”

Astarion’s eyes widen, and his hand reaches for you, but you bat it away, and he stops his advance. You need distance if you have any hope of keeping your wits about you.

“You want to be taken and claimed. You want to be mine,” he snarls, but there’s a sorrow weaved in between that choler. “I felt it. I heard it. I do not understand why you deny yourself these truths. Why do you continue to fight me?”

He’s clever, always able to take your questions, skirt them artfully and turn them around on you, but you know his tricks. He’s partly correct. You do want to be his, to belong, but you do not want to be owned and controlled.

“You didn’t answer the question, Astarion.” You retort bluntly, narrowing your eyes at him.

You have to tread carefully over these hot coals. If you challenge him too much, you’re likely to be reacquainted with his anger made flesh.

Astarion takes a deep breath, calming himself and smoothing his severe expression, “I already admitted I got carried away and caught up in the intensity of the moment. Sometimes, my thoughts become twisted. What more do you want me to say?”

You can accept that sometimes his thoughts are out of his control. You’ve heard the chittering yourself, and it’s like a flesh-eating infection that grazes upon contemplations. If you want him to continue being open, you must be able to withstand his darkness.

You can and you will because you must.

Always the lovesick hero.

“You know what I want you to say,” you whisper with a tear glistening in the corner of your eye. You know he won’t say it. You can feel his aversion as if it were your own.

“I can’t,” Astarion says flatly. He does not offer a reason. His fingers comb through his hair, and he shudders as if ice was suddenly thrust upon his warm skin. “You want something real? I’m not entirely sure what real looks like, but I will try. For you, I will try. But I cannot say what you’re asking right now.”

“Then I think this conversation is over,” you growl bitterly while climbing out of the bath.

Water drips down your body as you wrap yourself in one of the plush towels. You can feel his pain through the bond, and it’s tearing you apart on the inside, but you cannot fathom being his pet. You are not an object to be owned and flaunted, and no matter how badly you want him, you cannot allow him to treat you as such.

He does not speak as you walk away, your feet leaving wet marks across the floor. You don’t turn when you speak. You cannot see the sorrow reflected in his eyes, “And Astarion, if you ever compel me like that again, I will walk out and never return.”

His answer is calculated and numb, “I will do what is necessary to protect you.”

“Then you better be ready to lose me,” you snarl. “I am not an object you can wield when it suits your needs and put away when you’ve finished with me.”

“So be it,” he concludes quickly.

This time, you close the door in your head, although you’re reluctant to do so as you tread the hall back to your room. You are hollow once again, but you fill the void with hatred. You will find out how the Gur knew of your whereabouts and descend on the wings of death.

You know exactly where to start.

Elowyn.

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

I felt terrible for the cliffhanger, so I spent much of my free time writing this week so I could keep mostly on schedule :)

#astarion fanfic #ascended astarion #bg3 #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion smut

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