#Song of Everlasting Regret | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unintentionalseductress · 9 months ago

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When The Snow Melts

Warnings: MDNI, soft sex, virginity loss, angst, and some spoilers for those who aren't familiar with Zayne's lore. A/n: Curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't playing LaDS when the Master of Fate card came out so I went to YouTube and immediately regretted it. Like can this man not catch a break? He sacrifices himself again? I couldn't leave it, so this me, correcting the wrong. A fix-it fic if you will. Because I need Zayne to win, at least once. Also, since Zayne appears according to how MC perceives him, I do believe he will have aged exactly as she has.

The night is bright, and the small cobbled lane you walk on is lit with lamps. The streets are bustling with life. The feeling of excitement, togetherness, and aromatic food graces the air as you wander closer to the town square. Another festival, similar, yet not similar, to the countless ones you’ve seen with your keen eyes.

You’d wanted to be in company, maybe see the world when you were young, and the curse that was also a blessing was granted. Your body, now wispy and weathered from the years spent wandering cannot move as quickly as you used to, the ever-reminding aches in your joints, the beginning of arthritis weighing down in your bones. Yet you still had a zest for life. Because what else could you do but seek, and take in everything that life had to offer? How could you not? Because it was the grace of the god that allowed it and the terrible price that was paid for you to experience it.

It had been decades since you had last seen the god. You had traversed as far as you could, carrying your umbrella with the everlasting snow coating it like wool on a freshly birthed lamb. The things you had witnessed! Ships with sails as tall as oak trees, strangely flavored meats and delectable sweets, festivals where people had danced, music from instruments brought in from faraway strange lands. You had eaten, traveled, danced, and sung, picking up small jobs to afford simple pleasures. You were a quick learner. Once you were a seamstress helping a small garment shop, another time a jewel polisher. You had even worked as an errand maid for an elderly couple who were profuse with their thanks and offered you a roof over your head for a short while. But staying in one place wasn’t an option. You had to keep looking after all. How else would you find him again?

As your feet carried you into the square, a burst of light and color filled your vision. It’s so lively, as the people flock to the different food carts, admiring the small handicraft booths, and singing folk songs well known to all those who grew up in this region. Children joyfully chased each other, dressed warmly in bright clothes. A hint of winter was already in the air. Based on what you had observed, this festival was celebrating the end of the harvest season, probably one of the last for this year until the harsh snowfall of winter faded. The breeze, not quite chilly enough to make you shiver, felt comforting on your face.

You supposed you could work as a midwife again. Midwifery was good work, reliable since winter did not stop the delivery of children into the world. It could also guarantee a place to stay if you played your cards right, though you hated staying in one place. The nomadic lifestyle you had adopted suited you. And the winters made you nostalgic.

It made you long for those days before you had picked up this umbrella and set off to see the world. Of amber eyes flecked with green, like the jars of whiskey at the inns when the early morning sunlight brushes against them, bringing forth colors hidden in the dark glass. Or of soft hands, covered in scars, and whispers in your ear of sleep, of priestesses calling gods down to earth to make love to them. Sometimes the memories consume you to the point of anger. How dare he leave you? With no explanation as to what his blessing was.

You vaguely recall those days, back when your fingers weren’t gnarled and wrinkled, your face unblemished by the years in the sun. All spells have limitations, he had said. But he also said he had taken care to make the spell extra strong since you were particularly clumsy. The snow had to melt sometime…didn’t it?

A drum begins to pound in the distance, and the crowd gathers around the stage that had been set up at the far end of the square. You halt at one of the carts to buy some fried chicken skewers. The vendor looks curiously at your umbrella, something you have grown accustomed to over the years. After all, snow that doesn’t melt was bound to bring questions. You had woven a different story for each city you had passed through, sometimes recycling them when you didn’t have the creativity to spin a new one. Initially hesitant to reveal how the umbrella with the everlasting snow had come into your possession, you had tried to pass it off as a novelty accessory, crafting tales of snowy mountains and how it was all the rage in those areas.

As the years passed by, your tongue had loosened. Or perhaps the indignation of him disappearing had made you reckless. Although you still hadn’t said the full story, you’d managed to finally say it was a blessing from a god, shocking the non-believers by letting them touch the snow, their gasps of awe as the cold, wet, powder clung to their fingers falling satisfyingly on your ears. Tonight, however, you were in no mood to entertain strangers. You smile politely as you hand over your coins to the vendor, take the food, and walk away towards the stage.

The sounds of a flute and an erhu accompany the drum. Elaborately dressed dancers are swirling in coordinated grace on the stage, enacting a scene from an old tale; the common man sending off the goddess of harvest, thanking her for her blessings that year, and praying to the god of winter, that he be merciful to them and allow them to live to see another spring.

You were skeptical if these rituals really worked. The first autumn after you had been gifted the umbrella when the air started to show signs of change, you had danced, danced amongst the trees that were close to shedding their vividly colored leaves of red, mustard, and yellow. You had prayed your heart out, prayed so hard, danced so long that the soles of your shoes had almost worn out. You had danced till you had collapsed with exhaustion, falling asleep on the leafy floor. You had been so sure that it would work, that he would show himself, and when you awoke, it was with a heartrending pang that you realized you were alone. It hadn’t worked. Wherever he was, the god of the snow wasn’t visible to your eyes. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to cry in all those months. Had he really believed this was the better choice? That to leave you behind without telling you what was going to happen to him would make you happier? That was the worst part; not knowing if he was alive, existing somewhere you couldn’t journey to, or if he had given all his power into making the snow that had fueled your existence, and lost himself with it.

The music becomes faster and the dancers move until the stage is a blur of color. The audience claps as their movements become sharp, with an artistic precision that only years of practice could hone. The last note quavers from the flute and rises into the night air. Cheers and whistles erupt all around you. It was a beautiful performance no doubt, but despite finding it captivating, it also left you feeling hollow. Finishing the last of your fried chicken, you begin to wander amongst the townspeople, enquiring about work that could be had for the winter.

By the time the square had cleared up, and the last of the festival-goers had returned home, you had secured a job; a bakery was in desperate need of an extra set of hands. The pay wasn’t much but the woman had offered food and board and you had accepted graciously. As you sit on the stone steps of your latest lodgings, you gaze at the moon.

You want to not blame him, to not feel this heavy weight that you’ve carried inside your chest. You know you should be grateful for his sacrifice which enabled you to see so much of the world, and at the least, you weren’t alone. The incident with the people in your village was a distant memory, replaced with so many more pleasant rememberings. Plucking apples from an orchard with trees growing as far as the eyes could see. The feeling of a newborn baby, screaming with the rage of life and the mother wiping tears of joy while offering you her thanks. The herbalist with his toothless smile as he showed you which plants were medicinal and which were poison as you plucked various flowers and leaves and dug the earth for rhizomes of turmeric and ginger.

You were a well-traveled woman, knowledgeable in all aspects, a rare luxury during this time, you knew. Yet for each memory that stayed clearly in your mind, there was a sense of loss. Everything tied back to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forget him, even in your old age, and even with the passage of time.

The spicy bun the baker had offered you was good. You savored its flavor on your tongue, naming the constellations visible in the sky as you did so, the short astronomy lesson from a young scholar in some past time proving useful. It must be close to midnight based on how still the night is, the whispering rustle of dead leaves as they skitter across the ground audible in the background. With a sigh, you carefully get to your feet, your joints creaking as you rise. As you reach for your umbrella, you pause, fingertips hovering over the handle.

Surely you were imagining it? It must be a trick of the moonlight. The last of the lamps were dying, the faint light casting shadows across the walls of the dwellings. Yet your aged eyes couldn’t shake off the feeling. You stare intently at the umbrella, more so, at the snow perched on its upper slope. A fine sheen of condensation coated the umbrella, surrounding the powdery snow. Had you somehow gotten the umbrella wet? You kneel, observing with fascination as some of the condensation gathers, becoming fat droplets of precipitation, and rolling off the sides.

You’re awestruck. In all your years, the snow had never melted. It had never lessened nor increased but always stayed the same. But now you can see how the powder was turning watery, steadily dripping down into the cold ground. You trace a fingertip on the trails of moisture along the sides of the umbrella, and that’s when you hear it; the unmistakable twang of a guqin.

You had never encountered a guqin again, not since the night he had played one while you danced for him. The unmistakable notes now begin to form a melody. You look out into the empty street and see nothing. But the song was filling your body like the warmth of a fireplace. Your limbs involuntarily stretch out as your eyes close, remembering the movements you had learned so long ago and sworn to never repeat after the failed attempt to call down the god. Your legs feel unsteady, your hands clumsy, a far cry from the controlled accuracy of the stage dancers. Your joints begin to sear as you move, unable to stop the actions. Oh how sweetly the instrument sang to you!

There’s a sharp pain in your heart, not from the ache of moving your tired extremities, but from the grief bottled up, adding on year after year. There’s resentment, but underneath it all, there’s a strong yearning you’re unable to put into words. How do you describe it? The loss of the only person who seemed to understand you, who helped you control your power?

You knew he did something when he placed his spell because, since that day, you hadn’t been able to harness your powers ever again. He had ensured you could live your life as a normal human being. Before knowing him you would have done anything to not have the power. But the cost that came with it was too much to bear. You weren’t alone, yet you were alone. So of all the days, why was the guqin playing now?

Tears roll down your cheeks as you dance, letting loose your sorrow to the crisp night breeze. You feel like each nerve in your body is frayed, all consumed with the bits of memories you had of him. It takes you a moment to realize you’re not dancing anymore. The guqin has stopped playing. You’re standing in a pose, your head lowered, facing the steps you had been sitting on, and the umbrella leaning against them. Shock passes through you.

The umbrella was completely devoid of snow. The only evidence it was there was the puddle of water that had gathered beneath it, muddying the grass.

“Why are you so surprised?”

Your heart skips a beat, then begins to hammer in your chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The deep baritone voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm calls out to you gently. You can’t seem to be able to move.

“It can’t be.” You murmur, gripping your elbows, trying to calm yourself. “It can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“What are dreams if not another reality?”

It takes all the effort in your body to not collapse to the ground as a sobbing mess. You turn slowly, as though giving the voice a chance to admit it was a figment of your imagination but it doesn’t happen. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him, at last.

His dark hair has tinges of gray in it, and crow’s feet are visible near the corners of his eyes, but the gentle upwards curve of his lips, the broad shoulders, and his pointed chin are all recognizably familiar.

“Zayne?” You let his name fall from your lips, sounding like a strange word, lost to your vocabulary from the years of disuse.

He nods, then stretches out a hand to you. At first, you’re at a loss about what you should do, then, with as much speed as your wizened knees allow, you run to him. He’s solid and grounding, his arms wrapping around you tightly. A brief lick of rage crosses through you, but when you open your mouth to let loose your diatribe, all that comes out is a sob. Your tears flow freely, staining his robes, and you feel his gloved hands gently combing through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Why not tell me?” Your words are choked, your body shivering as you cry.

Zayne leads you to the steps and helps you sit before occupying the space next to you. He leans you against him, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he takes one of your hands between both of his. He sighs deeply and his voice, though calm, is filled with regret as he speaks.

“How could I tell you? What would I have said? How do you tell someone special to you that their life was in danger?”

You blink back tears. “Danger?”

“There was a powerful entity after you. I did what I needed to do to protect you.”

“Why was it after me?”

Zayne pauses, as though considering how to word his response. “It was convinced you would bring about a cataclysm, and the only way to prevent it was to take your life.”

“But… I don’t understand. How did your spell prevent this? Now that it’s worn off, won’t it come after me again?”

“No.” Zayne wraps his arms around you, his body bringing warmth into yours. “Even cataclysms go away if given enough time. But the harder part was figuring out how to suppress your abilities until that time passed.” He sighs deeply, gathering you close. “The spell on the umbrella was the only solution I could think of, without restricting your freedom. Regrettably, sealing your power meant taking away your ability to perceive me. I never intended to make it permanent.”

“Why not tell me?” You repeat the question. Zayne raises an eyebrow.

“If I had told you the spell would wear off, would you have left the mountain?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb as he takes in your face, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I know you. You would have spent all these years in isolation, waiting for me. I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to live. A normal life seemed like the best option I could give you until enough time had passed.”

You’re silent as you let his words sink into you. After a gap, you whisper, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His thumb caresses each of your fingertips in turn. “But know that I watched over you every day. I saw the world through your eyes and felt your sense of wonderment in my heart. The day you danced so hard for me that you almost fainted from exhaustion-” Zayne draws in a breath and his voice quivers as he continues. “I was in tears. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. I was there, separated by a veil, but I felt your pain.”

“That was the year the frost came early.” You recall the memory.

“Indeed. I couldn’t control my grief. I didn’t know how else to let you know I was there, except to cover the world with snow.”

You glance over at the umbrella. “Will you disappear again?”

“Not unless you want me to.” One of his large hands rests on your knee. “I understand I’ve angered you by acting without telling you everything. Is it enough that you don’t want me around?”

You shake your head no. Your momentary anger with him had faded, like the night giving way to the sunrise. “There’s nothing that could keep me from wanting you. I made many acquaintances throughout my life, but the one person’s companionship I yearned for was yours.”

“My beloved snowflake.” Zayne embraces you tenderly. “It was fate that led you to me on the mountain that day. And It was fate that finally broke the spell. We’re all bound by it, even me.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, do you think I would have kept you sealed for so long? Even gods must play by fate’s rules.”

Silence falls between you both, the breeze ruffling your clothes. You become acutely aware that he’s gazing at you, and when you turn to look at him, there’s such tenderness in his eyes that it makes you blush, even at this age.

“You’re beautiful,” he utters, tucking strands of stray hair behind your ears. The amber in his eyes glows as you stare back, captivated by how handsome he is. Your memory didn’t do him justice. You cup his cheek.

“Is this our happily ever after?”

“It can be if we choose it to be.”

“I do. Wholeheartedly.”

Sparks fly between you and almost as if the both of you are following a rhythm, your lips find each other in the darkness. It’s odd because, in the passing years, you hadn’t imagined what his lips would feel like against yours. You had fantasized about lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, about taking long, leisurely strolls while holding hands, and about the possibility of letting him rest on your lap while you played with his thick locks of hair.

Now you’re glad you hadn’t tried to imagine it because the reality was sweeter than any dream you could have conjured, the warmth and softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as it slips past your lips, the possessiveness in his grip as he molds your body against his, as though silently claiming you. There wasn’t an inch of you that didn’t ache for him. When he pulls away, there’s desire flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you take his hands and get to your feet, quietly pulling him inside your new quarters. You’re careful to not wake the baker; it was quite improper to invite a man into your room, but you didn’t care. You lock the door and allow Zayne to sweep you away.

Clothes slide to the floor, a whisper lost to the dark. There’s no shame as you reach for each other, hands relishing the feeling of skin, enjoying the contact between your bodies as he gently pulls you onto the bed. His lips leave trailing kisses on your skin, no longer supple like the young woman you once were, but worthy of being worshipped irrespective. You wonder if this moment would have felt different if you had consummated this relationship when you were younger but realized you had little choice in it. If the Master of Fate couldn’t control when things happened, then what good was it to think about what could have been?

Instead, you focus on him, on his skin flushed with vitality as you nibble his ear, shyly running your tongue down his neck. He suckles at your nipple, and pleasure, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced radiates into every part of your being. You feel his erection graze your belly as he patiently kisses you, moaning into his mouth as his fingers stroke your sex, finding the little knot of nerves that makes you close your eyes in ecstasy.

It’s all slow and unhurried, and when you finally gasp out your climax, he eases his body into yours. There’s pain, but only for the briefest moment, then as your body stretches around him, you feel a powerful sense of intimacy as he thrusts, his movements passionate and loving. He gathers you tightly against him whispering the same thing over and over as he empties himself.

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

A weak ray of sunlight peeks through the window when you wake up, and you panic for a moment when you see the bed is empty.

“I’m here my love.” Zayne’s voice immediately reassures you and you see him stoking the fireplace. The small flames crackle merrily as he makes his way back to bed, pulling you against him and stroking your skin. It had snowed overnight, and the landscape was now unrecognizable, covered in a fresh coat of it.

“It appears grief isn’t the only thing that can cause the god of winter to make it snow,” you tease and Zayne good-naturedly smirks at you.

“Indeed. All thanks to you.”

You giggle, a soft sound that fills him with joy.

“I suppose we’re stuck in this village until winter ends. Makes no sense to wander for now.”

“Agreed. I suppose I can set up shop as a fortune-teller, or maybe as a herbalist.”

“We’ll decide what to do when spring comes.” You settle against his chest, finding comfort in the scent of his skin.

“The snow has to melt sometime. But we’ll survive. Together.”

“Together.” You agree, and lay your lips over his.

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

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mistyshane30 · 4 months ago

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You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 12)

Synopsis: After last night’s kiss, everything feels different—but maybe that’s not a bad thing. With a camping trip ahead and your friends still in the dark, stolen glances and shared spaces make it impossible to ignore the shift between you and Agatha.

Word count: 6.9K

Warnings: Sexual tension, Mild language

A/N: Hey everyone, just wanted to say a massive thank you for all the love and support! It really means the world to me that you're reading my stuff. Love you all♡

You wake up to the sound of your phone alarm, the one you set last night with the full intention of regretting it. You reach out blindly, fumbling to silence it before the noise burrows too deep into your skull. Your fingers finally manage to swipe at the screen, and the room falls quiet again.

You blink up at the ceiling. And then it hits you. Last night happened. The kiss happened.

Your stomach flips—not in panic, but in a holy shit, that was real kind of way. A slow warmth spreads through you, settling in your chest like a secret. For a few seconds, you just lie there, letting it all sink in, no rush, no dramatic gasp—just the weight of realization curling around you like a blanket.

And then, before you can stop it, a small smile tugs at your lips.

You exhale, rolling onto your side and running a hand through your hair. No spiraling. You’re cool. You’re collected. Today is just… a day. A day after the kiss. A day where the world keeps spinning, even if it feels a little different now.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stand up—only to immediately slam your knee against the nightstand.

“Shit—!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, sucking in a breath as a sharp sting shoots up your leg. Well, that’s one way to keep yourself grounded.

Not today. Today is a great day.

You grab your phone and scroll through your Spotify, looking for the right song. This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) by Natalie Cole catches your eye, and without thinking twice, you hit play—then set it on repeat. It just feels right. Humming along, you stretch your arms, the upbeat melody lifting your mood as you head to the bathroom.

The memory of the kiss sneaks in—uninvited, but not exactly unwelcome.

Her lips, softer than you expected. The way she hesitated, just for a second, before giving in. The way your heart tripped over itself, trying to catch up.

You shake your head, grinning as you grab your toothbrush. You’re being ridiculous, but who cares? Pointing the toothbrush like a microphone, you mouth along to the lyrics, swaying a little as you brush.

The shower is warm, the steam wrapping around you as you lather up, still humming along to the song. The tune has officially lodged itself in your brain, and before you know it, you’re full-on singing, letting your voice flow effortlessly through the lyrics. The acoustics in the bathroom are perfect, amplifying the richness of your tone, and you can’t help but revel in it.

"This will be, an everlasting love..."

You close your eyes as you rinse the shampoo from your hair, the melody carrying through the air with ease. You’re fully into it now, singing without a care, completely lost in the song. The ridiculous, giddy energy bubbling in your chest only makes the song sound even sweeter. A laugh escapes you between lines—you can’t help it.

Last night happened. And it was great.

With a final, perfectly controlled note of "You brought a lot of sunshine into my life!" you grin to yourself, stepping out and grabbing a towel.

After your shower, you go through your luggage, picking out what you need for the hike. A black fitted moisture-wicking tank top, high-waisted dark gray hiking leggings, and sturdy brown hiking boots. You tie a light gray long-sleeve shirt around your waist—just in case the weather turns—and top it off with black shades and a deep olive-green cap.

You always come prepared.

You grab your small black hiking backpack, making sure you have the essentials—water bottle, sunscreen, windbreaker, wet wipes, tissue, power bank, extra shirt, and blanket. You didn’t exactly pack for camping, so you’ll have to stop by the resort shop on the way to the meeting place.

Breakfast is quick, but This Will Be is still playing. You should probably switch it up, but honestly? You’re feeling it. You’re feeling all of it.

You lean back in your chair, tapping your fingers against the table as you chew. You’re happy. Like, really happy. It’s kind of embarrassing, actually. Maybe you need to tone it down a little.

You shake your head to yourself, taking another bite.

Yeah. Maybe later.

After your breakfast, you get up, stretching your arms as you push your plate aside. You give yourself one last look in the mirror, smoothing down your outfit before turning off the music. Satisfied, you grab your things and step out of your villa, heading toward the resort shop.

The store is stocked with everything you need for the trip—flashlights, protein bars, bug spray, and a first aid kit. As you browse, you decide to grab six sleeping bags, just in case no one else remembered to buy them. You also pick up three tents because there’s absolutely no way you’re sleeping unprotected in the woods. Just as you’re about to check out, you pause.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, snapping your fingers as you remember Wanda doesn’t have hiking boots. With a sigh, you head back to the shelves and pick out a sturdy, comfortable pair in her size.

By the time you make your way to the resort’s main entrance, you’re carrying shopping bags in both arms, the weight slightly annoying but manageable. As you walk, you start practicing how to casually greet Agatha when you see her.

"Hey, Agatha." No, too chill.

"Heyyy, Agatha!" Absolutely not.

"Morning, Ags!" What did you just say? Ags?!

You cringe to yourself before shaking your head. Right. You two don’t even greet each other like that. You decide to just wing it.

When you finally reach the group, you realize you’re the last one to arrive. Your eyes scan over everyone before landing on Agatha. You do a double take—because, seriously? She looks unfairly good in hiking gear. Fitted, practical, and somehow still managing to make it look effortlessly stylish. You blink, trying not to stare too long.

You clear your throat and offer a casual, “Hey.”

“Finally,” Jennifer says with a smirk, eyeing your shopping bags. “Did you buy out the whole store?”

“Very funny,” you deadpan, shifting the bags in your arms. “This isn’t just for me, by the way. I got tents, sleeping bags—you’re welcome, by the way.”

Wanda perks up when you hand her the bag with the hiking boots. “Oh, you got these for me?”

You nod. “Figured you’d need ‘em.”

The group erupts into playful teasing, calling you their ‘sugar mommy.’ You roll your eyes. “Okay, first of all, I’m just being practical.”

“Ohhh, practical,” Agatha drawls, smirking. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Would you prefer thoughtful and generous? Because I can work with that.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, you’re feeling bold today, huh?”

You smirk. “I try.”

You’re aware of how Agatha’s lips twitch, like she’s holding back another quip, and how her gaze lingers just a beat longer than necessary. It sends an unexpected warmth through your chest, one you stubbornly ignore.

Before either of you can push it further, Jen claps her hands. “Alright, you two, let’s save the banter for later. We need to get going.”

You blink, snapping back to reality, realizing the others have been watching the exchange with varying levels of amusement. Clearing your throat, you shift the bags in your arms and force a nonchalant shrug.

You huff playfully, but nod, motioning toward the van. “Help me load this up, then.”

With a few more laughs and a couple of nudges, the group moves to stash the supplies in the van.

You guys pile into the van, the energy buzzing with excitement for the trip ahead. You slide into your seat beside Wanda, settling in when suddenly, Agatha slides in right next to you. The shift is subtle, but you feel it—the way her presence fills the small space between you.

You glance at her, and just as your eyes meet, she winks.

Your breath hitches for half a second before you force yourself to look away, clearing your throat as if that will help steady you. Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric of your jeans, grounding yourself, but you swear you can feel her smirking beside you. She doesn’t need to say anything—you just know she’s enjoying this.

A light nudge on your elbow snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. Wanda, leaning in close, whispers, "Do you wanna switch seats?"

Her voice is careful, almost hesitant, and when you turn to her, there’s concern in her eyes. Of course. The last thing she knows about you and Agatha is the kiss. The drunken, heart-wrenching kiss that she remembers you remember, but Agatha does not.

You force a small smile. "I’m fine."

"You sure?" Wanda presses, brows knitting together slightly.

You nod, offering her what you hope is a reassuring look. "Yeah. I promise."

She doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but she doesn’t push further. Instead, she just exhales and settles back into her seat, though you feel her steal a glance at you every now and then.

Up front, Jen claps her hands together. "Alright, before we head straight to Malibu Creek, we need to stop by the Malibu Country Mart. We need food."

She starts listing off things—rice, marinated chicken skewers, beef strips, crackers, chocolate, marshmallows for s’mores, maybe some mushrooms and bell peppers, foil, skewers.

"Don’t worry about the drinks. That’s already taken care of," she adds with a smirk.

The drive to Malibu Country Mart is short, filled with easy chatter and the occasional singing from Lilia and Jennifer. When you finally pull into the parking lot, you glance around and then casually say, "I got this. I’ll pay for whatever we need."

The van goes silent for a second before the teasing starts.

"Damn, okay, sugar mommy," Lilia snickers.

"You feelin’ extra generous today, huh?" Wanda raises a brow, clearly amused.

You just shrug. "It’s easier than splitting the bill. Besides, what’s the point of having money if I can’t spend it?"

Without hesitation, you pull out your black card and hand it over to Jen. She takes it with zero shame, flipping it between her fingers. "Big mistake, handing this over to me. I could go wild with this."

You just roll your eyes. "Go crazy. I won’t even notice."

She laughs but wastes no time hopping out of the van, Lilia following close behind.

You lean back in your seat, letting your eyes drift to the window as you exhale slowly. Agatha is still right there beside you, quiet now, but her presence is impossible to ignore. The space between you feels both too much and not enough.

After a few minutes, Jen and Lilia return, arms full of bags. With everything loaded up, the van pulls out of the lot, and you’re officially on your way to Malibu Creek State Park Campground.

The van is filled with easy conversation—your friends chatting, the occasional burst of laughter, going over the hike details—but you’re barely listening. You’re busy on your phone, scrolling through your socials, pretending not to notice Agatha beside you. But you do. You really do. Every brush of her arm against yours, every shift in her seat that makes her knee nudge against yours.

And then the van hits a small bump, and this time, her knee stays pressed against yours. She doesn’t move away. Neither do you.

Then Agatha speaks. "You're oddly quiet," she murmurs, just above a whisper. There's a teasing lilt to her tone, something knowing.

You glance at her, keeping your voice light. "Just making sure I have enough energy to actually finish the hike. Unlike you."

Agatha raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Unlike me?"

You shrug. "I just have this feeling you’ll be the first one begging for a break."

Agatha scoffs, turning slightly in her seat to face you. "Excuse you. I have incredible stamina."

You bite back a smirk. "Right. I’ll believe that when I see it."

She narrows her eyes, tilting her head. "You’re underestimating me."

"No, I’m just being realistic," you counter, shifting on your seat. "I can already picture it—you, conveniently ‘admiring the scenery’ every five minutes while the rest of us keep going."

"That’s called appreciating nature," Agatha corrects. "Some of us don’t just power-walk through everything like we’re being chased."

You shake your head, eyes flickering back to your phone, scrolling aimlessly. "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She hums, shifting slightly. "Guess we’ll just have to see who makes it to the top first," she muses, voice casual but laced with something else.

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Didn’t know this was a competition."

"Oh, it’s not," she says lightly, shifting in her seat. Her knee presses against yours again—just barely, just enough. "Unless you’re scared of a little challenge?"

You don’t look up, but you smirk, thumb idly swiping across the screen. "Scared? No. Just wondering if I should take it easy on you."

Agatha hums, tilting her head slightly. "How generous." Her voice is smooth, unreadable, like she’s enjoying this little back and forth a little too much.

Your grip on your phone tightens—not enough to be noticeable, but enough that you feel it. There’s a weight in the air, a quiet, slow-building awareness that neither of you acknowledge out loud. Just a shift in the way she’s looking at you. The way your knee presses back against hers, deliberate now. No one else notices.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, the van slows to a stop.

"We’re here!" Jen announces, pushing open the door.

Just like that, the moment slips away. You and Agatha pull back, effortless, like nothing ever happened.

You guys get off the van, stretching your legs after the long ride. The sun is high, filtering through the trees, casting dappled light over the trail ahead. Before setting off, everyone takes a moment to apply bug repellent lotion, the sharp citrus scent filling the air.

Alice hefts the cooler packed with drinks, while Jen carries the one filled with meats. Lilia is in charge of the bag stuffed with utensils, cookware, foil, and skewers. Wanda and Agatha split the sleeping bags between them, their arms looped through the straps. And then there’s you—stuck with the three camping tents, each one heavier than you expected. Maybe around 5 kg each? It's definitely a lot to carry for a hike, but you’re not about to complain. Not yet.

The campsite is an hour’s walk away, and Jen confidently takes the lead, guiding the group along the dirt trail. You lag behind a little, letting the others chat freely while you settle into the rhythm of the hike. The conversation ahead of you is filled with laughter, stories, and easy banter. You listen in, but your attention keeps flickering toward Agatha, walking just a few steps away.

After about twenty minutes, the weight on your back starts to press in. Your shoulders ache, and a dull strain creeps up your spine. You shift the straps, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to ease the discomfort.

Then Agatha nudges you lightly with her shoulder. "You okay?" Her voice is casual, but there’s a teasing lilt to it. "You’re awfully quiet. Getting tired already? I thought I was supposed to be the one who’d give up first."

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitches upward. "I’m fine," you mutter, brushing off the teasing. She doesn’t push, but you can tell she’s watching you.

The two of you keep walking side by side. Occasionally, your arms brush—just light, fleeting touches, but each one makes your breath hitch. You fight the urge to glance at her, keeping your eyes trained on the path ahead. Then, distracted by your own thoughts, you stumble over a tree root. Before you can even react, Agatha’s hand shoots out, steadying you by the arm. Her grip is firm, warm, and it lingers just a little too long.

"You okay?" she asks again, this time with a smirk.

You nod quickly, chuckling. "Yeah. Just—these tents are heavy."

"Want me to help?" she offers, though her hands are already full.

You smirk back. "Oh, how generous of you."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, the thought counts."

The trail grows steeper, and you pause, adjusting your grip on the straps. Without a word, Agatha extends a hand toward you. You hesitate for just a second before taking it, her fingers wrapping securely around yours. The touch lingers, her thumb brushing ever so slightly against your palm before she lets go.

Eventually, you all arrive at the campsite, breathless but relieved. You waste no time dropping the tent bag from your shoulders, sighing at the sudden weightlessness. Your backpack follows, hitting the ground with a soft thud. The others do the same, stretching out sore muscles before flopping onto logs or leaning against nearby trees.

You sit on a fallen log, gulping down water. As you lift your arm to wipe the sweat from your brow, your gaze unintentionally lands on Agatha across from you. She stands there, wiping the sweat from her forehead, down to her neck. The way she grips the towel, the slow drag of fabric against her skin—it shouldn’t be mesmerizing, but somehow, it is. Your eyes follow the movement, watching the way the towel traces the curve of her neck, the dip of her collarbone.

Your breath catches. Just for a second.

Then, Agatha’s eyes catch yours, her gaze unwavering, carrying an unreadable weight.

Panic sets in, and you tear your gaze away, focusing way too hard on wiping your own sweat. But even without looking, you can still feel her smirking. Like she knows exactly what you were thinking.

You guys are now about to set up the tents. The others are already making progress, but you find yourself struggling with the tent poles—maybe because your hands are clumsy, or maybe because you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you. You try to shake off the awareness, to focus, but it's impossible to ignore the weight of her gaze.

You fumble with the pole again, cursing under your breath. And then, just as you expected, she approaches. You pretend not to notice, keeping your eyes on the tangled mess in front of you.

Agatha’s voice comes low near your ear. "You’re doing it wrong."

You stiffen, swallowing. "No, I’m not."

She huffs a quiet laugh. "You are so stubborn."

You roll your eyes, but before you can argue further, she reaches out and snatches the pole from your hands. "Here, let me—" she says, already fixing the issue before you can protest.

Within seconds, she has it all in place, the tent poles standing firm. She turns to you with an amused smirk. "That was painful to watch. Were you even trying?"

You scoff, shrugging. "It’s not like I do this every weekend."

You reach to continue setting up, but she stops you with a hand on your wrist. "It’ll be faster if I just do it," she says matter-of-factly. "You’re clearly struggling."

You frown. "I can do it."

"Sure you did." She tilts her head, studying you, then places a hand on your shoulder before lightly pushing you down onto a nearby log. "Just sit there, hon. I’ll handle this."

She gives you a look—one that clearly says she doesn’t believe you. "Just sit down."

You hesitate, but eventually, you sigh and drop onto a nearby log. With nothing else to do, you watch her. She moves easily, assembling the tent with practiced efficiency. It’s unfair how effortless she makes it look. The way her fingers work the straps, the way she tugs on the fabric with precision—it’s almost mesmerizing.

Then, a sharp nudge to your side nearly makes you lose your balance.

"Ow—what?" you mutter, glaring at Wanda.

She doesn’t even try to hide her irritation. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting?" you say, feigning innocence.

"Yeah. Sitting there while she does all the work and staring at her like she hung the damn moon." She folds her arms, unimpressed.

You scoff. "I was not staring."

Wanda gives you a flat look. "Right. And I’m the Queen of England."

You huff, looking away again, but Wanda doesn’t let it go. She leans in slightly, lowering her voice. "You do remember what happened, right?"

Your breath catches in your throat.

Yeah, you remember. You remember Agatha’s lips on yours, warm and certain. The way she whispered your name between kisses, hands cradling your face like you were something she wanted to hold onto. The way your heart nearly gave out when you realized—finally, finally—that she wanted this too. That you weren’t alone in this.

But that’s not what Wanda is talking about.

You blink, snapping out of it. Your chest feels tight.

"Yeah," you say quickly, your voice coming out rougher than intended.

Wanda watches you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before exhaling sharply. "Then don’t forget it." Her voice softens—just a little. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt again."

You nod, unable to meet her eyes. You know she means well. But she doesn’t know everything.

Not yet.

Jen instructs the group on their tasks. She, Wanda, and Lilia will cook lunch, Alice will handle the fire, and you and Agatha will gather wood. Wanda doesn’t look thrilled about this arrangement, but she doesn’t argue. She just throws you a warning glance before heading toward the campsite kitchen setup.

The two of you wander a little farther from camp, the quiet settling in like a soft blanket. The air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. The only sounds are the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. It’s peaceful, yet charged with something else—something unspoken.

You shift the small bundle of sticks in your arms, stealing a glance at Agatha. She walks beside you with easy confidence, her posture relaxed, but her eyes are sharp, watchful. She’s quiet—not tense, just... observing. Like she’s waiting for something.

"You’re staring," you murmur without looking at her.

She huffs out a small laugh. "You’re one to talk."

You frown slightly, glancing at her. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Agatha smirks, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Earlier. When we got to the campsite. Thought I didn’t notice?"

Your grip on the firewood tightens. The memory flickers back—the relief of setting your bag down, the burn in your muscles finally easing. You had sat on a log, drinking water, wiping sweat from your face… and then, your gaze had drifted.

Agatha had been standing across from you, dragging a towel along her forehead, down the side of her neck. Slow, deliberate movements. The towel skimming along her collarbone. The shift of her jaw. And then she saw you...

"I wasn’t—" you start, but Agatha shakes her head, clearly entertained.

"Relax, Y/N," she says lightly, nudging you with her elbow. "I didn’t mind."

Your face warms, and you hate that she sees it. You clear your throat and keep walking, eyes ahead, but the distraction is there now. It lingers in the way your pulse picks up when she steps a little closer.

Then, suddenly—

Her fingers curl around your wrist.

"Hey—"

You don’t get to finish. Agatha tugs you off the trail, steering you behind a thick tree trunk, out of sight. Your back presses against the rough bark as she steps in close, too close, her hands bracketing your waist.

Your breath stutters. "Agatha, what are you—"

She doesn’t answer. Instead, her fingers skim up, trailing along your jaw, tilting your chin up. Her gaze flickers to your lips, dark with intent.

And then she kisses you.

It’s not soft. It’s a claiming—hot, urgent, a head-spinning kind of kiss that makes your fingers tighten around the small bundle of sticks in your arms before they inevitably slip—falling to the ground with a quiet thud.

Agatha smirks against your lips but doesn’t let up. Her fingers slip to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. She kisses you like she’s been waiting—like she’s finally giving in to something she’s wanted for too long.

You gasp when she presses you harder against the tree, her lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, then lower—to your neck.

Her teeth graze your skin.

"Agatha—" you start, but your voice falters the second you feel her suck, slow and deliberate, right beneath your jaw.

Your entire body tenses.

She hums against your skin, pleased, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. The sensation sends heat pooling in your stomach, a mix of pleasure and realization—she’s leaving a mark.

"Agatha," you hiss, hands gripping at her sides, but she just grins against your skin.

"Mhm?" she murmurs, her breath warm as she lingers there, pressing one last kiss to the spot before finally pulling back.

Before you can react—

The sharp sound of a twig snapping nearby makes you both freeze.

Your heart jumps to your throat.

Agatha barely moves, her body still pressed close to yours, her breath warm against your skin as her eyes flick toward the noise. Your pulse pounds in your ears as you strain to listen, but after a few beats of silence, nothing else follows. No footsteps, no rustling—just the distant hum of the wind through the trees.

She tilts her head, eyes glinting with amusement. "Relax, Y/N," she murmurs, her voice low, teasing. "Probably just a squirrel."

You let out a sharp breath, shoving her away slightly, your eyes wide with disbelief. "Agatha, you’ve got to be kidding me—"

Agatha raises a brow, feigning innocence, a smirk already tugging at her lips. "What?"

You gesture wildly at your neck. "Agatha, I’m wearing a tank top!"

Her smirk deepens, slow and smug. "Yeah. I noticed."

You groan, slapping a hand over the spot. Your fingers press against your skin, and—yep. It’s definitely there.

Agatha bites back a laugh.

You glare at her. "How am I supposed to hide this?! This wasn’t here when we left!"

She tilts her head like she’s actually considering it. "Well, you could say you walked into a tree."

You blink. "What?"

"A tree branch. Scratched your neck. It happens." She shrugs. "Or, oh! A mosquito bite."

You stare at her. "A mosquito bite?"

She grins. "A very… passionate mosquito."

You scoff. "You are insufferable."

She just laughs, stepping back and casually picking up a stick like nothing happened.

And that’s when it hits you.

Your first aid kit.

There are band-aids in your first aid kit. Back at camp.

If you can just make it back there, you can cover it up.

Only problem?

You still have to carry the firewood back first.

You groan internally. This is going to be hell.

You continue gathering firewood, and so does Agatha.

After a few minutes...

Your arms are full—too full. The rough bark digs into your skin, and you’re struggling to keep everything balanced. And Agatha? She’s no help at all.

She strolls beside you, hands in her pockets, smirking as she watches you suffer.

Because carrying firewood is already a pain. But carrying firewood while also trying to keep a hand on your neck to cover a very obvious hickey?

It’s borderline impossible.

"You know," Agatha muses, hands still in her pockets, "if you admit I’m good at what I do, I might be convinced to help you out."

You glare at her. "Not a chance."

She snickers, clearly entertained.

You shift awkwardly, attempting to balance the wood while keeping your other hand glued to your neck. The problem is—it’s not working. The firewood wobbles in your grasp, threatening to spill at any second.

And then—you nearly trip over a rock.

Agatha reacts fast, her hand darting out to catch your elbow. Her grin is downright evil. "Careful, hon. Hate for you to fall and add another mark."

You grit your teeth. "I swear to God, Agatha—"

And then—

"Y/N?"

You flinch violently, nearly dropping the firewood.

Alice.

You whip around, eyes wide. "YES??"

Alice blinks at you, confused. "...Are you okay?"

"YEP!" you rush out, forcing the most unnatural smile in existence.

Alice eyes you suspiciously. "Why are you holding your neck like that?"

You freeze.

Before you can even think of an excuse, Agatha—being an absolute menace—sighs dramatically and drapes an arm over your shoulders. "Oh, don’t mind her," she says smoothly, voice dripping with amusement. "She’s just feeling a little... sensitive today."

You elbow her immediately, trying to shove her away, but she barely budges.

Alice frowns. "Sensitive how?"

You panic.

Agatha grins, clearly about to say something ridiculous. "Oh, you know—"

You cut her off, practically yelling, "I GOT BIT. BY A BUG. A BIG ONE."

Alice blinks. "Oh. Are you okay?"

You nod aggressively. "Mhm! Just need a band-aid."

Alice opens her mouth, probably to ask another question, but you don’t give her the chance. You bolt past her, speed-walking straight back to the camp.

Okay. Okay. You can do this. Just—act casual. Act normal.

When you reach the camp, you drop the firewood with a relieved sigh, finally free to use both hands again. You roll your shoulders, trying to shake off the lingering ache. The sting on your neck pulses, a dull reminder of your misfortune. You make a mental note to check it later—when no one’s watching.

But then—

"Y/N, wait."

You stiffen.

Alice.

You turn slowly, already dreading what’s coming. "Yeah?"

She’s eyeing you, concerned. "Are you sure you’re okay? Let me see."

Your soul leaves your body. Your stomach twists.

"SEE??" You choke out. "OH, UH, NO NEED."

Alice frowns, clearly not convinced. "What if it’s a poisonous bite?"

Panic grips you.

And then—

"Who got bit by what?"

Jen appears out of nowhere, like she was summoned by the word "bite."

Lilia, right behind her. "Wait, yeah, who got bit?"

"Y/N did," Alice says helpfully.

You wish she wasn’t so helpful.

Wanda, hearing that, immediately looks alarmed. "WHAT?!" She steps closer, her brows furrowed as she scans you for injuries. "By WHAT? Are you okay??"

Jen, intrigued. "Is it bad? Does it look weird?"

Lilia, curious. "Ooo, maybe it’s swollen!"

Your face burns. You feel cornered.

"IT’S FINE. IT’S NOTHING. I’M GOOD. I’M—"

Alice narrows her eyes. "Then why are you still covering it?"

Crap.

Jen, gasping. "WHAT IF IT LAID EGGS?"

Lilia, horrified. "OH MY GOD—"

Wanda, 100% serious, hands on your shoulders. "Y/N, we need to check. What if it's poisonous? Or infected? Just let us see, please."

Your heartbeat spikes. You can practically feel the pressure of their stares drilling into you, suffocating you.

And then—

"OH MY GOD, LOOK!" you suddenly shout, pointing wildly behind them.

It’s a long shot, but desperation fuels you.

Everyone whirls around.

"WHERE?!" Alice gasps.

"WHAT?!" Lilia yells.

"IS IT THE THING THAT BIT YOU?!" Jen demands.

Wanda, more concerned for you than whatever they’re looking for. "Y/N, we need to get you checked—"

But you don��t hear the rest because you BOLT.

Straight to your bag.

Straight to the damn first aid kit.

Behind you, the confusion erupts into chaos.

"I don't see anything??" Alice frowns.

"Wait, where did Y/N go?" Lilia turns back.

Jen gasps. "SHE FLED THE SCENE."

Your hands are shaking as you rip open the first aid kit, slapping a band-aid onto your neck without even checking if it’s in the right spot. You exhale sharply, still feeling the ghost of their worried stares.

You turn back, panting.

Wanda is standing there, arms crossed, absolutely not buying it.

"Y/N."

You freeze.

She’s staring at you.

You follow her gaze.

The band-aid is on the wrong side.

Your stomach drops.

Wanda narrows her eyes. "Why is the band-aid on the wrong side of your neck?"

You mutter a low, fuck, mentally kicking yourself for the rookie mistake.

Without missing a beat, you rip it off and slap it onto the right spot.

"Fixed it," you say, forcing a smile.

Wanda blinks.

Jen squints.

Lilia whispers, "Suspicious."

Alice just shrugs. "Okay, well, as long as you're okay."

Jen, still eyeing you. "If something hatches, we’re not helping."

You exhale, pretending you didn’t just have a near-death experience.

A quiet chuckle drifts through the air. You grit your teeth, already knowing who it is.

You glance at her, catching the amused tilt of her lips as she adjusts her sleeves, but she doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look at you directly.

Your irritation flares. You shoot her a sharp glare, but she only shakes her head slightly, like she’s enjoying the show.

You huff, turning away, trying to will down the heat in your cheeks.

After a few moments, the others move on—but not Wanda. She stands in front of you with her arms crossed, staring you down like a personal bodyguard.

"Sit," she orders, pointing at a log.

You sigh, but comply, dropping onto the rough wood with your arms crossed. "I can still move, you know. I didn’t lose a leg."

"You got bit. It could be bad." Her hands find her hips, her stance firm. "What if it’s venomous?"

"It’s literally nothing."

"You don’t know that," she counters. "So sit. Stay. Rest."

You groan, leaning back against the log. "You act like I’m dying."

"Not on my watch," she quips before turning on her heel and heading off to help the others.

So now you’re here. Doing nothing. Watching everyone else prepare food for lunch. Feeling useless. Bored. Restless.

Then, a shadow falls over you.

"You look very hardworking."

You glance up. Agatha.

She stands before you, arms crossed, head tilted, amusement flickering in her eyes.

"Don’t start," you mutter, looking away.

She hums, then—completely ignoring the availability of literally any other seat—plops down right next to you. Too close. Close enough that your shoulder brushes against hers for a split second, and your heart does something stupid in response.

"You should be helping," you point out.

She shrugs, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Since you can’t move, I might as well keep you company."

You roll your eyes. "You just don’t wanna work."

"Correct," she says easily. Then, with a smirk, she adds, "Besides… it’s kind of nice seeing you sit still for once."

You narrow your eyes. "I can sit still."

She raises an eyebrow.

You cross your arms. "I can."

Agatha leans in slightly, gaze flickering down—first to your face, then lower. It’s quick, barely a glance, but you catch it. And when her eyes land on your neck, lingering just a second longer, your skin burns like a brand was pressed against it.

Your breath catches, but before you can react, she leans back, pretending nothing happened. She just sits there, relaxed, like she didn’t just set your entire body on fire.

You stare at the ground, willing yourself to not combust on the spot. Agatha, completely unbothered, stretches her arms above her head like she has all the time in the world.

Then you feel it.

A stare.

You glance up—and Wanda is walking toward you.

She has firewood in her arms, her expression unreadable as she approaches. But when her eyes flick to Agatha, something sharp flashes across her face.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, her tone clipped, her gaze locked onto Agatha.

Your breath stutters. You sit up straighter, pulling your shoulders in like that would somehow make you look less guilty. "I—she—uh—"

Agatha, unbothered, finally acknowledges her. "She’s on strict ‘do nothing’ orders, remember?"

Wanda narrows her eyes. "Right. And you’re here because...?"

Agatha smirks. "Moral support."

Wanda does not look convinced.

You’re hyper-aware of your exposed shoulders, the way Agatha’s eyes had lingered earlier, and most importantly—the hickey on your neck that you barely covered in time.

You resist the urge to rub at the band-aid. You can’t give Wanda a reason to look any closer.

But she is looking.

Too long. Too sharp.

Your heart pounds. Does she see it? Did she notice??

Then, finally, Wanda just sighs. "Fine. But don’t let her get up, Agatha."

You nod too fast. Agatha? She just smiles.

Wanda gives you one last, long, considering look before walking off.

You exhale.

Agatha leans in slightly, voice low. "You looked like you were about to pass out."

"Shut up."

She grins. "Maybe I should check your pulse. You know, since you’re injured and all."

Your face burns.

The moment Wanda is out of sight, you spring to your feet like the ground just burned you.

Agatha raises an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

You don’t answer. You just grab your backpack and a sleeping bag and beeline for one of the tents.

There are three tents set up. You don’t even think before ducking into one, zipping it up behind you, and letting out a long, deep breath.

Holy shit.

Your heart is still pounding.

You press a hand over the band-aid on your neck, as if that will somehow erase the very real, very recent mark Agatha left.

Wanda was staring too hard. You’re sure she suspects something.

You groan, flopping down onto the sleeping bag. What the hell was that?

You can still feel the ghost of Agatha’s lips, the way she had tilted your head, the warmth of her breath before she—

Nope. Not thinking about that. Not right now.

You exhale sharply, running a hand down your face. Maybe if you just stay here for a while, let things settle, it won’t feel so… overwhelming. Maybe even take a nap. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

And then—

The tent unzips.

Your stomach drops as you sit up too fast, heart hammering.

And Agatha steps inside.

She doesn’t come empty-handed. No, she’s carrying her own backpack and a sleeping bag.

Wait. What.

She zips the tent back up behind her and smirks down at you.

"Relax," she says, tossing her stuff onto the other side of the tent. "I figured we’re tentmates."

Your brain short-circuits. "We—what?"

She shrugs. "Three tents. Six people. Pairs make sense, don't you think?"

You hadn't thought of that.

And judging by the absolute gleam of mischief in her eyes, Agatha had definitely thought of it way before now.

You swallow hard. “And you just… decided on your own that we’re sharing?”

She smirks. “You ran in here first.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Oh, relax.” She flops down next to you, propping herself up on one elbow, her face way too close. “You’re acting like I bite.”

You glare. “You literally did.”

Her smirk deepens. “Want me to apologize?”

You do not like where this is going.

You scramble to put space between you, pressing a hand to your very much still sore neck. “We are not talking about that.”

Agatha just hums, stretching out on her back like she belongs there.

Silence settles between you for a moment, but your thoughts are far from quiet. You keep replaying last night in your head—the way her lips felt against yours, the way she looked at you right before—

Nope. Not going there.

Then a thought hits you, and panic creeps in. “Wait—what if our friends get suspicious?”

Agatha blinks at you, then actually laughs. “Suspicious of what?”

You wave vaguely between the two of you. “You. Me. This.”

She just shrugs, completely unbothered. “Doubt it.”

You narrow your eyes. “You sound way too confident about that.”

Agatha smirks. “Come on, everyone thinks we’re always at each other’s throats. No one’s gonna assume we’re—” She gestures toward your neck. “—secretly doing… whatever this is.”

Your breath catches.

Whatever this is.

You linger on those words.

Because—what is this, really?

You don’t ask. You don’t say anything. You just keep it to yourself.

It’s too soon to even bring it up, right?

You guys just kissed last night.

The real kiss.

You now know she likes you back.

That’s enough… for now.

Right?

Agatha watches you for a beat, like she can tell you’re lost in thought, but she doesn’t push.

She just smirks and stretches her arms over her head, her shirt riding up just enough to make you look away fast.

"Anyway," she drawls, "get comfortable, tentmate. Looks like you’re stuck with me all night."

You groan and flop back onto the sleeping bag, throwing an arm over your face. “Fantastic.”

Agatha just chuckles, clearly enjoying herself way too much. “Try not to miss me too much in your sleep.”

You turn onto your side, putting some distance between you. "Yeah, right."

Agatha just hums, clearly entertained. "Oh, hon, I'm always right."

You can hear the smirk in her voice, but you're too tired to argue.

Your body finally relaxes, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. Maybe it’s the long hike, maybe it’s the chaos of earlier, or maybe it’s just being in this tent with her—but you feel completely drained.

Agatha stays quiet after that.

Just as sleep starts pulling you under, you murmur, "Wake me up for lunch."

There's a beat of silence, then a quiet chuckle. "Sure thing, sleeping beauty."

If you weren’t already halfway gone, you might’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you let the warmth of sleep take over, Agatha’s voice the last thing lingering in your mind.

Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @filmedbyharkness @brekker157 @rizzlesregal13 @starbucks-06 @aboutcustardcreams @crescendoofstars @neverfindmegone @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi @theonefairygodmother @isixxxx

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x you #agatha x reader #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #YouWereNeverMinetoLose #agatha harkness smut

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starlostseungmin · 1 year ago

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husband!hyunjin

✰ notes: here concludes my husband!skz series with hyunjin. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing everyone! not proofread and not edited. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix（ hyunjin ）

ꔛ

Husband Hyunjin whom everyone expected to make a grand proposal, prepared a simple candlelight dinner in your shared apartment and cooked your favorite meals. You thought it was just a usual dinner date at home which you’d do sometimes. He suddenly got down on one knee and opened a small box with a diamond ring, “Will you be my everlasting muse? The one who would love to spend the rest of their life with me?”

Husband Hyunjin who cried and hugged you tightly as he thanked you for saying yes.

Husband Hyunjin who was the happiest and got emotional during the weddingーmentally screaming, hair-ripping, toe-curling, exaggerated excitement (sincere), and deeply in thought about how he would spend an eternity with you.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to stare at you while talking, especially on your lips thinking how much he wants to kiss you. His kisses start with innocent, soft, and warm then later change into intimate, hot, and intoxicating which makes you get addicted to them.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to be babied and cuddled when he’s tired or just wants to be a small spoon whenever he feels like it. He’d refuse to go to work just to stay in bed all day with you.

Husband Hyunjin whose dates consist of visiting art museums, picnics, watching musicals or movies, evening strolls, and road trips. Sometimes it gets over the moon when he decides to take you to (country) because you’ve been dying to visit the place. He giggled nonstop when he surprised you that he bought the tickets.

Husband Hyunjin who would always bring his sketchbook and camera on dates just to take a picture of you or make his hand busy sketching a portrait of you just because he finds you beautiful every time. He will show them to you when he’s done. The pictures or sketches will be hung on your shared apartment's wall for safekeeping and memories.

Husband Hyunjin who drives you crazy when he’s just doing normal things like simply unbuttoning his polo, rolling up his sleeves, taking off his jacket showing his bodybuild especially when he wears a tanktop inside, brushing his bangs upward, dancing? It would add fuel to the fire when he kisses you like a man starved from your touch.

Husband Hyunjin who brings you food and medicine when you get sick. He will probably take his day off from work depending on how fast your recovery is that it would take days for him to sit there and take care of you. The type to make sure that you won’t die since he would end up grieving so hard. “It’s just a mild flu, Hyunjin.” “Are you sure?”

Husband Hyunjin who is loud and dramatic whenever he realizes he got betrayed, lost a game, or is just being dumb (lovingly). He and Jisung are a perfect match and you’re the one who actually gets in between.

Husband Hyunjin who gets shy whenever you compliment him but sometimes he would feel a blast of confidence that he gives you a wink as a response and becomes flirty.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to make a fool of himself, vocabulary just consists of memes (you can blame Han and Felix for that) cringes at his own cuteness and regrets it later just to make you laugh.

Husband Hyunjin who lets you play with his long hair. He loves it when you do pigtails. You often tease him that he looks like Boo from Monsters Inc.

Husband Hyunjin whom Kkami wants to disown.

Husband Hyunjin who tries his hardest to comfort you as best as he can whenever he sees you being vulnerable in trying times. Promised not to leave you alone until you feel better, crack a dad joke he got from Chan to lift the atmosphere (which is effective by the way) and take you to his arms, whispering how he is proud of you.

Husband Hyunjin who made a playlist filled with songs that make him think about you, scream your vibe, and the ones that would portray his exact feelings. Sometimes he would write down lyrics about how lovesick and hopeless romantic he is. All songs and melodies are heavily inspired by you.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to send you selfies, videos of him taken by the members that serve husband material, and voice messages whenever he’s abroad because he misses you so much that he cries himself to sleep and can’t wait to go home. It’s also necessary to send you short vlogs and pictures of sceneries of the places he went without you because of work and leave messages like, “This reminds me of you.” “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Let’s visit this place together soon!” “I’m sure you’d like these souvenirs I got you!” “The food out here is great! Treat me here soon!”

Husband Hyunjin whose love languages are words of affirmation, physical touch, gift-giving, quality time, and acts of service.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to spoil you even if you tell him not to spend a lot of money on you but he won’t listen and insists on accepting them.

Husband Hyunjin who doesn’t admit his mistakes during the first few minutes of the argument but later apologizes over and over again and promises never to do it again. He’s also the type that is hard to make up with but he can’t keep it up for hours and just cuddles you whispering “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”

Husband Hyunjin who gets jealous easily and is possessive whenever he sees you having a good time with his members. “I’m yours, Hyunjin. Don’t worry.” You’d say but you know that is not enough for him so he’d show you to whom you belong (affectionately, or depending on how you both want it).

Husband Hyunjin who refused to get a divorce when you felt that your marriage was falling apart because he couldn’t imagine his life without you. He won’t let go of you easily and you didn’t even make any attempts to leave him.

Husband Hyunjin who is careful whenever in talks of having kids because your decision matters in this relationship but he would reassure you that if you ever wanted to have one, he will be the best dad your kid could ask for.

Husband Hyunjin who is the most precious, kind, and pure to your heart that you wouldn’t even want to live a life without him. He is the moon and stars to your night, the sunshine after the rain, the rose amongst the thorns, and the pretty shells you find on a beach where no one knows.

Husband Hyunjin who holds your hand and intertwines your fingers as he kisses your knuckles saying, “I love you.”

Husband Hyunjin whose wedding vows are not enough to show how much he would love to spend his entire life with you. “I fucking love you so fucking much and we’re married, you can’t leave. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not!”

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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white-poppie · 4 months ago

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𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ⎯⎯⎯ s.gojo x fem!reader (part 3/3)

SYNOPSIS — Your life was a mausoleum of sickening memories until light found you again at the end of the bleak tunnel, peering through his big cerulean eyes. Spitfires vanishing till you found your everlasting effervescent flame. And that's how it ends, because you still have your youth.

💿 — Mia and Sebastian's theme from La-la land

TW —breastfeeding, pregnancy, post-partum, grief, loss, crying (obv), jealousy.

WC — 5k

Series masterlist Moon Child ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Now playing: Part 3

“Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.” He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remain.

The next few minutes go by Satoru holding you to his chest, silently as you sob. Now he’s sitting in the front seat of his car, the tinted windows drawn up as he regardless looks outside cautiously while you feed a hungry Tsukiko.

Satoru’s gaze falls to rear mirror, his eyes briefly catching your tender expression when you look at Tsuki as she stays latched to you and an inexplicable warmth erupts in his chest. He cranks up the AC silently, noticing you’re sweating a bit while feeding her.

You can’t help but smile as he turns up the AC, he notices these little things, the things Suguru should have been here for.

You sigh and lean on the headrest of the car, the smell of the faux leather making your head pound harder after crying. Tsuki suckles with soft whimpers, her face covered by your t-shirt. "It’s strange isn't it?" You murmur. "You are doing few of things Suguru was supposed to be doing for his daughter..."

He’s quiet for a long moment before he finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s his loss. He missed out.”

You look out of the window, tears pricking in your eyes yet again. Your eyes burn from crying, yet it seems as though gotten used to it, gotten yused to the uncomfortable warmth of excessive tears burning down your eyes.

You tell yourself you’ve gotten immune to heartbreak but image of Suguru tenderly holding Tsuki. His eyes filled with so much regret and pain like he would turn around everything if he could. It’s burned in your head. “I’m so tired, Satoru…” you whisper.

He’s quiet as he listens to you speak, his heart breaking as he hears the way your voice cracks again and how your words carry such a sense of exhaustion and pain, like you’ve been carrying burden that no one could understand. You’re not the same person that you were when you were just shy of seventeen. You’re not the same girl that he used to know at sixteen and he knows that better than anyone else..

"I feel so lost- I no longer know what I am working for. There is this anger that bubbles in me, This vile feeling of resentment towards everyone, everything...hell sometimes even towards Tsuki." You choke, "I feel so selfish for thinking all this when I have a sweet daughter. I hate myself that sometimes my mind conjures up this feeling of anger and blames this little girl who has no fault. I love her so much, but I can't help these sudden feelings."

His heart aches at the way you blame yourself, it all just feels so unfair. It feels…cruel. He can do nothing but sit here and listen to you talk it all out because you so clearly feel suffocated like you’re drowning.

"When he told me he was leaving the Jujutsu society. It felt as though my heart was being ripped apart, like I would stop breathing without him. I dug my nails into him. Clung to him that entire night. I got a call from Shoko in the morning when he had gone rogue and filled so many people. I wanted to rip my skin apart yet not wash the flesh he had touched" You sob viscerally, lowering your head in shame.

At times, it felt like you were living a bitter love song. Penelope unthreading the tapestry, grieving, loyal to gone Odysseus. Yet, ambivalent. Somedays, you unthread the tapestry, other days you beg Artemis to end it instead.

He can’t stop the feeling of pure agony bubbling in his chest, his throat dry. Your grief feels so real. So tangible. You’ve lost yourself to him. A part of you must have still been hoping he would come back, as foolish as that hope was. He reaches out to gently take your hand in his. “It’s okay…it’s not your fault.”

You gulp, wiping your tears with your trembling hands upon realising Tsukuba is done feeding, you fix your shirt, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. Her litttle features relaxed into a blissful expression after having her fill, her pouty pink lips making you smile despite your sorrows.

“Can I hold her?” Satoru asks suddenly hesitantly. The corners of his eyebrows upturned and furrowed almost adorably.

"You are asking as if you weren't the first one to hold her in the hospital." You croak out humourlessly and hand her to him and shift in the front seat beside him.

His face softens as a small smile spreads across his lips and he gives off a quiet breathy chuckle as he sees the way your shoulders soften and the small, weary smile that spreads across your face as you hand him the baby. His eyes are so gentle and loving as he carefully takes Tsuki and cradles her against his chest. The way he’s holding her, it’s so natural - as if he was born to be a father.

Your heart feels so heavy at the scene. Its supposed to be Suguru...Its supposed to be Suguru holding Tsukiko, not Satoru. But there's this swell of affection when you look at him cradle her. She's so loved...

"She looks so tiny against you." You whisper, The way they look like yin and yang makes your breath hitch. Tsuki with her black her and eyes and Satoru with his white hair and blue eyes. Suguru and Satoru—Yin and Yang—the strongest sorcerers.

His lips quirk up in a soft smile as he gently pulls Tsuki just a bit closer to his chest, his hand gently wrapping around the back of her head in a tender hold. “She really is a tiny little thing, isn’t she?” he whispers right back as he continues to softly stroke his hand across her back. “She’s so precious and fragile, like a baby bird.”

“”It’s both a blessing and a curse that she looks exactly like him.” You whisper looking at his strong arms hold the baby.

Satoru looks at you, her eyes softening with a mix of pity and affection for the child in his arms. “She really is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.”

Your shoulders relax you take in a shaky breath, your head pounding like a those drums from from Physical education classes that banged rhythmically. Sighing you raise your legs up to your chest and lean the seat back.

The sight of you curled up in the passenger seat of his car, the car which, you’ve just about proclaimed as your property is so domestic to him that it hurts a little bit. “You’re tired,” he says softly as he continues to cradle Tsuki against his chest.

"Mhm." You nod as you look at him, eyes fluttering. "You should give her here or you won't be able to drive."

He lets out a sigh as he reaches over to gently buckle her into her baby carrier against you. His breath stutters as his fingers brush against your arms and he finds himself gazing into your eyes before gulping and drawing back.“She’s just so tiny and cute and precious, I just don’t want to let her go.” He mutters, his voice slightly deeper than intended.

You chuckle and carefully cradle her neck so she’s leaning against your chest "She's a very charming little girl." You press a kiss to her forehead.

He watches silently as your breaths even out in a semi- lucid state before he whisper to himself in response. “Just like her pretty mama.” He utters and starts to drive to your house.

The smell in the car is saccharine, your vanilla perfume, and the oddly sweet smell that comes from babies; combined with a heady mix of breast milk and baby products.

Tsukiko and you are settled and curled into his front seat as if you belong here. It's so natural. To think Satoru is being the haven Suguru could never be, he's picking up cracks of you shattered, broken heart; you don't know what to call it, but it feels right. Unclear, whether it’s pity or friendship that makes him care so much for the girl and the kid his best friend abandoned.

You arrive back at you place as he helps you out of the car. You look at Satoru with heavy eyes, "Come in, I'll make tea." you say with a tired smile.

Initially, he thinks of rejecting, yet seeing your swollen red eyes and that weary slouch of your shoulder blades; he surrenders.

The little apartment that's less of a home but a sanctuary, its a cute tapestry of memories. Baby products are neatly kept, such as cribs, baby toys, polaroids of the baby, plants, and, in progress, a crochet baby hat on the couch and adorable little trinkets around.

But to you, as night comes it becomes a glum, cold sanctuary for the most part-- filled with reminders of Suguru. Everywhere. His large shoes were on the front door, his coat was on the rack, his picture with me was on the fridge, and his cologne was on the dresser. Almost everything of his is untouched the way it was, despite everything, you don't have the strength to throw out his things the same way he threw you out of his life.

The more his gaze lingers, his mind immediately drifts to the last time he came here; when Suguru was in your life. The house reeks of his memories. The place doesn’t look like a home, it looks like a museum that’s dedicated to the relationship you had with Suguru, almost like a shrine. The longer he looks at it, the more his chest aches. When he speaks, it comes out as a barely audible whisper. “Y/N...”

"Hmm?" You mutter slowly, tucking Tsuki in her crib. You walk back into the kitchen, your house sandals dragging across the marble flooring.

“Can I just…hug you for a second?” he whispers.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, pausing midway while putting the pan on the stove. "Where did that come from?" You ask confused, but your voice softens immediately, turning into a whisper by the end of the sentence.

"I just…want to hug you right now.” he says in a tender, whispery voice. “You look like you need it.”

You gulp, keeping the pan down and wrapping your arms around him he leans down, his arms wrapping around your waist. A shaky breath leaves your throat at how warm he feels, your throat constricting and nose and cheeks feeling warmer. You close your eyes, a silent tear rolling down your cheek.

His arms slowly snake around your waist as he wraps you in, pulling you to his chest, cradling your soft, exhausted body and holding you against his larger, firm form. His eyes close as he feels you shaking in his arms, his embrace so tender that it hurts. “It’s okay,” he whispers softly to you. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Your chest aches at how comforting his embrace feels. You are suddenly reminded of the way Suguru used to hug you- but for the first time, I push the thought of Suguru away quickly. It’s Satoru in front of you, not Suguru.

"I’ve got you,” he murmurs right up against your ear. “I’ve got you.” He lifts his hand to brush his fingers across your hair, his fingers running across your scalp.

You feel my heart beat faster inexplicably as you raise your head up to look at him. “Satoru, I need your help.” You whisper out as you gulp, briefly closing your eyes.

“Help me…help throw his things away please, I don’t have the strength to do it alone. it’s so haunting." You choke, "I want to move on, I want get better, in a more stable mental place for Tsuki, and I can’t do that with these reminders of him everywhere…” You vent out in one breath.

“You really…want to throw away all of his things?” He asks, his voice a mix of hurt, and relief.

“No.” You reply immediately, “but what other way is there? I don’t want Tsuki to grow up with me being an emotional wreck over a man who abandoned us."

Your eyes fall over to the tiny toddler in the crib, unable to peel your eyes from the beautiful girl.

"I want to keep everything of his, to look at them and grieve for a man who’s alive. I want to keep that damn scarf of his, I don't have the strength to remove his picture from my wallpaper, and his pillow that I sprayed with his perfume and hugged to sleep during pregnancy because his smell calmed me during morning sickness. It’s pathetic I know…but how long am I going to hold on?” You choke up, tears rolling down my eyes.

He feels his breath hitch at your words. He slowly lowers his head to rest his forehead gently against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in slowly and trembles slightly as he gently pulls you into him, his breath trembling and catching in his throat again. “Oh, Y/N,” he whispers in a voice broken with emotion. “Oh sweetheart…”

For a second he wants to gather all of Suguru's things and keep them for himself on the other hand he wants to shatter everything. He's been like the same paradoxical situation as you, day in and day out. He's been a hypocrite. Telling you to move on when he could not get over his best friend. The only person he could ever confide in without being superficial, the only one who cared.

He's aching, just as much as you are. And he aches even more to see his first love so terribly broken apart by his best friend.

"I want us to heal, 'Toru." You mutter. "All of us: Me, you and Shoko. Of course the pain can never truly be gone, but we can't let our lives stagnant like this." You whisper, cupping his face in your palms, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare into his cerulean eyes.

He feels his heart skip several beats in his chest as he feels your soft, warm palms gently cupping his face, your eyes peering into his. He takes in a slow, shuddery breath and swallows again in an attempt to get rid of the aching feeling in his chest - the aching he feels for you.

His eyes glance over towards the crib, seeing the small infant that ties you to his best friend in the most undeniable way that he could never possibly compete, yet she draws him and you closer than ever. From the day he laid his eyes on her, he loved her.

He raises his hand slowly and gently rests it over one of the ones that are cupping his face, his fingers intertwining with yours. He holds your gaze for a long moment in silence, just trying to calm the thundering of his heart in his chest. He let his feelings sit in the backseat when you and Suguru started dating. It hurt, but the ache soon simmered and he accepted reality, he knew his feelings had never left and yet it didn't feel hard to think otherwise. Hell, he was ready to be Suguru's best man. He's finally letting himself be selfish.

"Toru," You breathe out shakily, unsure why you uttered his name like so. This feels like the precipice, the intermission of the movie of your life, right at the climax. These inexplicable feelings brewing in your heart are so heavy. You feel guilty, for letting yourself feel this way, for letting yourself move on-- to develop an affection beyond friendship for Suguru's best friend and your friend.

His heart skips a beat at the way you breathed out his name like so. It almost sounds like a plea, almost like a desperate beg. Toru. It never felt this good, never felt this right, for you to say his name like that. It's so good to hear the way his name sounds when it leaves your lips, your lips that he has never once touched.

His throat aches as he leans down and captures your lips against his own he's wanted this for so long. For so so long he's ached for you. Satoru knows its wrong, you're both vulnerable, but he feels like he would break and sob like a child if he doesn't embrace you. If he can't love you. Its physically impossible for him to control his affection anymore. His nose is red, eyes burning.

A gasp leaves you as you freeze, your fingers clenching into fists. You stand unable to react, frozen still. Your heart beats in a sickly rhythm at the confusion swirling in your chest.

He swallows thickly and instantly pulls back, his eyes wide as he looks into your shocked expression. He takes in a shuddery, shaky breath. He's a idiot, he's an absolute idiot. He knows you don't feel that way about him, knows you're still broken over Suguru, and yet he still kissed you.

"I-" You stutter, your heart shattering at his slightly red eyes. "I'm...I'm sorry..." You breathe out, unable to utter anything else. You want to pull him in again, to kiss him with the same tenderness. His glassy eyes make you sick, but you are not sure you can do this to him, not when you are so conflicted about your feelings...he deserves better than that.

He shakes his head adamantly, his hands trembling slightly as he gently reaches up to place them on your shoulders to keep you at a distance. He doesn’t want your pity. He can’t take your pity.

"You don’t—" Satoru whispers shakily, his eyes still burning. "You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Please, don’t pity me because I feel this way for you."

"I don't-- I don't pity you 'Toru, not a bit. But you are not a replacement, I never want you to feel like that. I am- there is so much to heal in my heart, I don't think I can love anymore. I am so damn scared after all that I went through." You breathe out reaching to him hesitantly. "You deserve better than whatever mess I am right now."

His heart shatters even more as he feels the way that you demean yourself so harshly - you have no idea how much you're worth. You have no idea how many times he's had to restrain himself from kissing you, holding you, loving you - so many times he's had to tell himself that he has no right to try and love someone that's not his. But his heart is a fragile, weak thing in the face of your sorrow.

"Your daughter needs you," he whispers, his voice cracking a bit. "You're amazing.

“Would you give me time to heal Toru? For myself? For Tsuki? Maybe even for us.” You whisper with a soft voice. “I want to reclaim myself, I’ve lost that ambitious girl somewhere, I want to get her back before I can ever try to find love again.”

6 months pass by in a blink of an eye, wasn't she born yesterday? Tsuki's already 8 months old, its a bittersweet feeling. Yet somehow when you think of the times your blood used to run cold when someone mentioned Suguru when you trying to heal; it reminds you how long the year really was.

Those six months were a lifetime for you and Satoru too. He was there all along, for you and Tsuki. He watched you grow and change - every day, every moment, he witnessed the way you healed and slowly came back to yourself. And with each day that passed, the more that he found himself completely and hopelessly in love with you.

You smile, wrapping the scarf around Tsuki as she sits in her stroller, wide-eyed, observing her mama dressed up differently. A red, velvet a line dress. It feel so weird to wear old clothes again, like watching yourself in your middle school yearbook pictures, cringing at how you looked, but feeling warm as you remember how truly happy you were.

You gulp, fixing your hair for the nth time, waiting for Satoru to pick you. You roam nervously in the apartment, wound like a spinning top and you jump when the bell rings.

You quickly walk up to the door, there he stands in his glory, in a tailored Italian suit, an Armani watch, his fluffy white hair parted at the side with a bouquet of peonies in his nimble hands.

And he freezes just as you do, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing up and down trying ti muster, suave words of praise, but nothing leaves his starstruck self.

“You look so handsome, Toru.” You say fondly.

He slowly holds out the bouquet of peonies for you as his eyes scan over you again. His voice feels weak, barely a whisper as he speaks to you. "Look who's talking."

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You say taking a sniff of the fragrant flowers. Your heart feels warm, despite the chill in the air; warm toasted bread with sweet milk tea in the sheets, an odd sense of euphoric comforting.

"Just beautiful things for a beautiful woman." He says, finally with his flirtatious grin which causes you to roll your eyes.

You chuckle and look over at Tsuki. “Let’s wait for Shoko” It’s the first time she’d be away from you, she’s too small, too tiny, it makes you anxious for her to be anywhere except in front of your eyes. This is the first time you've ever been apart from the infant who's been attached to your hip since she was born.

"Shoko's a doctor, she'll take good care of her. It's just for a few hours, sweetheart." He says, interrupting your thoughts.

Soon enough, the bell rings, and the tired woman makes her way in. You go over the same things, same scenarios multiple times until you feel relieved and Shoko on the other hand, exasperated.

"And for the love of god don't smoke around her," you say and finally hug her. "Thank you for doing this Shoko."

Shoko freezes as you suddenly hug her; for a moment, she feels as though her eyes are getting bleary after seeing you smile so brightly after so long. "All good..." She murmurs, unknowingly tightening her grip around you.

"Let's go," you whisper to Satoru, holding out your hand. For a few seconds, he just stands still, unable to form a coherent emotion at the sight of your hand extended to reach his. Gulping he intertwines his large fingers into your palm. the path to his car feels sacred, intimate; he feels as though he's holding you as you walk down the aisle to him. It's an exaggerated, delusional reverie that makes his chest all tight.

The ride towards the restaurant is mostly silent, with you looking out the window and watching as the world passes by like a blur. Satoru steals a few quick glances at you every now and then as he drives, feeling the familiar ache in his chest everytime he looks at you in your beautiful, beautiful red dress.

"You look beautiful, you know that?" He whispers, his voice hushed almost as if he's afraid if he speaks too loudly, the moment will be shattered.

Your eyes soften at his reverential tone, you tilt my head, staring at him. "You've told," you answer. "But I like hearing you say it."

"I'll say it till you get sick of it," he says with a soft chuckle, his bright cerulean eyes undoing all defenses, all inhibitions. They shine so bright, like stars.

"I don't think I can ever get sick of it," You whisper. It's peaceful, you realise. Not the wild, passionate sort of love you experienced with Suguru, where the flame was brightest before it blew. But this feels like a soft light, whispering in the dark, ebbing the strongest shadows away. It draws you in like a moth to flame. This tender light ignites my very being from the dull, colourless life you were trapped in. You never realised that what you wanted was warmth; you hunted it in a spitfire, but found it in an everlasting flame.

His heart skips a beat at your soft, but honest words. The car slows down as the light turns red, and he takes the opportunity to take a good a long look at you. You are sirenesque, it takes his breath away. He finds himself leaning closer, red lights of the signal reflecting off his face. The soft jazz he put to sound fancy is all static under your gaze. He is all static under your gaze.

Both of you flinch as a car behind you honks, pulling the two of you out of your reverie. You realise the light has already turned green and clear you throat.

He lets out a soft sound before he starts driving again, looking ahead at the road to distract himself from the way his heart still pounds in his chest.

The restaurant comes into view as he parks the car with a sigh.

You smile as he helps you out of the car. It's a fancy restaurant, the kind you'd see in old Hollywood movies where the main characters take the heroine and a cute song starts playing. You wait for your orders, and there's an awkward silence; neither of you speak for a while. A mix of embarrassment and nervousness blended in with being clueless about what to talk about.

"So...I was thinking," he begins, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he fiddles with his fingers. There is a moment of hesitation as he looks up at you for a second, his heart skipping a beat at your calm expression. He gulps and decides to say it, his words leaving him in a low murmur - barely above a whisper. "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?" You question your eyes fluttering in confusion as you look around and then back at him as if to question, 'here?'

He nods as his nervousness melts away into a small, genuine, bashful smile as he stands up and gently extends his hand towards you from across the table. "Yeah...dance." He mutter, his heart feeling a bit lighter at your innocent question.

He looks at the small dance floor in the restaurant, not even a whole dozen couples dancing on it. "Just one song."

"Alright, until the food comes in." You smile tenderly and take his hand as the two of you walk to the small wooden flooring. You look up at him as he wraps his hand on your waist, another interlacing with yours. And the song plays, ironically enough, Mia and Sebastian's theme from Lalaland, and you roll your eyes. it's a fancy restaurant; they should at least play jazz or something. Nonetheless, you sigh and just look into his cerulean eyes, and your heart pounds in your ribcage.

He can't stop the way that a small chuckle leaves him at your eye roll. He is in utter bliss in this moment, being so much closer, so much more intimate than he'd been with you in ages: everything around them feels so surreal.

You two dance at first, for a few minutes, a sophisticated pair dance before the two of you just sway, eyes peering intently into each other. The light is dull, dim, centered just at the floor, but nothing shines brighter than his hopeful, loving eyes, and you can't help but feel like you are melting as he holds you in, swaying to the music.

He holds onto you as tightly as he can, his eyes never leaving yours, his breaths growing more labored with each passing second. He can't help but be utterly enamored by you. He can just barely hear his own voice over the sound of his own rapidly beating heart. "I love you."

Your eyebrows furrow at his admission again, and you can't help but huff out a fond chuckle. He's so sincere, despite all, despite how torn you were, despite how you had hurt everyone, including yourself. He's been there. He's been there and made you realise you don't have to beg for someone's love. It's not transactional as it was with Suguru. "I've made you wait for so long, haven't I?" You whisper, your eyes a little bleary looking at him.

The corners of his eyes crinkle with your huffed chuckle. He smiles softly as you speak, his hand on your waist gently caressing your body lovingly. He smiles and reaches his hand up to caress your soft cheek, gently stroking your skin with the rough pads of his fingers.

"Forever." He mutters, his own eyes slightly glossing over as he looks at you. "You could've made me wait forever, and I still would've waited."

You wrap your arms tighter around him and lean up to kiss him, eyes fluttering close. He tastes like mint; its sweet, and it soothes you so. You let out a shaky breath, and he leans in and kisses you tenderly at first, but then with an adolescent vigour that has you dipping in his arms.

You can't help but giggle at his excitement, somehow, the sound gets him to tone it down, tender and soft, his fingers shaky. You part away to breathe and chuckle fondly. "You've got lipstick on your lips." You shake your head and wipe his lips clean.

"We still have a dance to finish," You say as I keep your hand back on his shoulder, and start to sway, laughing as he spins you around

Outside the restaurant after a late night tussle of the girls begging for icecream and him giving in, Suguru walks with Nanako and Mimiko. Their little hands holding the ice cream he brought, trying to not make it drip.

"Geto-sama, isn't she the woman in the photo frame?" Mimiko points out cluelessly to through the glass to you and Satoru dancing. A woman she's only ever seen through the photo frame he keeps close to him, fondly smiling at the,mystery woman that the twins love to inquire about.

"Hmm...?"

Suguru looks towards the glass, and it takes a few seconds for him to process what he sees. He sighs. It's hard to breathe, but you look so radiant it's like life is back in you. It's so different from when he last saw you six months ago in the grocery store. You looked like your world was crumbling down; you were tired, depressed and alone with his daughter you gave birth to. "Yeah." He says with a smile, his voice heavy.

"That's her."

He keeps looking at you, his smile still on his face as he stares at the sight of the two of you on the dance floor. He can't explain the feeling he has in his heart: hollow and heavy, a feeling of losing something he had and messed up so terribly. The feeling of watching you fall in love with someone else, while he still is in love with you.

But this is different. He looks at your smiling face now, and all he can feel is a strange sense of peace. His chest feels tight, an inexplicable pang of nostalgia and loss as he watches you dance with his best friend, but the pain he feels in his chest is replaced with a strange sense of acceptance.

It feels nostalgic, you're dancing with Satoru the way you used to with him, old jazz music playing as you stood on his feet and he swayed you around, sneaking kisses on your soft lips, your arms wrapped around him. But just as he remembers these memories, he is reminded of what become of your relationship.

It hurts like crazy but still doesn't compare to the soul-crushing guilt he felt when he saw your in the grocery store with Tsukiko, the baby of his love that he left unknowingly and despite knowing her existence, he was far too gone to step up. All he can remember is the utter agony you held in your eyes when you stood with that little infant so tired, so terrified. He made you go through hell.

The two of you finally stop with the dance. You glance away for a second and freeze as your eyes fall onto Suguru. Your lips part, feeling these conflicting, wretched emotions of anger and bitterness.

He is stoic before he breaks into a smile, a content, tired smile. The smile you give to someone, a goodbye, a good-luck, a smile of nostalgia and well-wish.

You breathe out as if you feel a burden off you existence, your lips twitching up to a smile too.

He looks at you and then glances at the girls, and something in him just wants to approach and hug you so tightly, ask for forgiveness and stay like this, all of you together again.

And yet, when your lips twitch into a smile at him, he smiles back, lifting up his hand to wave softly before walking away.

Life didn't end when he left, though it seemed like it would. Sometimes, we find escapes closest to us, but grief makes us blind. Satoru and Shoko were there to help, but drowning in the agony of loss you didn't find the strength to reach. The point is, no one can help you, unless you want to help yourself.

And once its over, one day you'll find yourself at crossroads with your past again. And its then you'll have courage to look it in the eye and smile, because that's how it goes:

Aches of present become memories of past:

a testament of Our Youth.

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ash5monster01 · 1 year ago

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hi!! i was wondering if i could request a charlie dalton x fem!reader inspired by guilty as sin? by taylor swift <333

Guilty as Sin?

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, sexual themes, sexual desire, heavy lust, language, big ego, fluff.

Summary: based on the song Guilty as Sin? by Taylor Swift. You have a longing for Charlie Dalton that you’re wishing would finally come true, lucky for you, Charlie thrives off of fulfilling fantasies. He’s happy to do the same for you.

word count: 2k

Masterlist

The sound of a book slamming against the table causes you to jump. Bringing you back to reality and tearing your eyes away from the boy on the other side of the library. With your heart now thrumming in your chest you eye the culprit, a frazzled student, rushing to drop his things on the other end of your table as he prepares to study. He has no idea he's just caused you to jump out of your skin but you're thankful to him anyway. If you weren't careful you could get too wrapped up in the idea of the brunette boy across the room and that was never good.

Charlie Dalton had become an all consuming thought. When Welton first became co-ed you had promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for any of the boys. Especially Charlie who had become the well known flirt amongst the school. Thing was, you couldn’t help it. Being in a place like Welton was like being trapped in a cage. It used to be fine but now you dreamed of breaking free. Dreamed of cracking locks, throwing your life to the wolves or ocean rocks, crashing into Charlie Dalton who was the definition of freedom simplified. The boy was a paradox.

Because of all this you couldn’t stop yourself from dreaming about him. It was the only exciting thing you had in this entire school. Seeing visions made up entirely of breaking every possible rule with the boy by your side. You weren’t sure if it made you bad, mad, or wise. All you knew is that you wanted Charlie Dalton in more ways than one. He was an ideology that made your heart soar and you dreamed of him claiming you as his own. Wishing he was written ‘mine’ on your upper thigh as his very hand slowly slide past your knee. Too bad it was only in your mind.

Feeling yourself slipping and falling back into the everlasting maze of dreaming about Charlie Dalton you quickly collected your things before it got too far. Even though dreaming about him would be lovely way to die, you had trigonometry homework that sadly the chestnut eyes of Charlie Dalton could not complete. Your safest option was getting as far away from him as possible. At least that was your goal until you bumped into a hard body after pushing open the doors to the library.

“Shit” the familiar voice swore as your books scattered across the ground. You froze in place as you spotted the apologetic smile on the boys face as he bends to collect your things. You hate that just the sight of him makes you recall things you never did. Things like needy top lip kisses, a longing for shared trysts, all without having ever touching his skin.

“It’s okay” you finally bring yourself to say, collecting your books back from him and probably looking like a deer in headlights. You hate even being around him made you feel guilty as sin. You had to keep these longings locked inside a vault before you got caught.

“You okay?” he asked with a soft chuckle, hand falling to your shoulder and you can’t help the goosebumps that cover your body just from the simple touch. Finally daring a glance into his eyes you hope he can’t see the desperate longing you have for him there.

“Do you want to hangout?” you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, instant regret fluttering in a breath behind them. Screw your trigonometry homework, Charlie Dalton was standing in front of you and you were going to take a chance.

“What?” he laughs, handsome eyes sparkling with amusement and you shake your head fastly even though the words coming out are opposite from the way you look.

“Yeah, I mean we have a few classes together and I just thought we could get to know each other” you look strained as you say it, contradicting yourself completely and the boy in front of you lets out a hearty laugh at the sight. Someone once told you there was no such thing as bad thoughts but you were having quite a few right now. At least your actions talked and hopefully he couldn’t see through the smoke screen that hid your fatal fantasies of labored breaths, him taking all of you, already doing it in your head.

“Yeah, I’d like to hangout. Got anything in mind?” he asks and it’s innocent. You know it is. That doesn’t stop your mind from running wild, recalling every dirty scenario you have put him in the last few months. If it was all make believe why does it feel like a vow you’re both going to uphold?

“Not particularly” you respond, nervously tucking strands of hair behind your ears and he just grins, arm reaching out and wrapping around your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I know a place” he says confidently, sultry and smooth, the very personality you’ve been obsessed with. You hate that your cheeks redden, suddenly anxious about the fact that the same boys name you call out at night, building up like waves and crashing over your grave, has his arm around you.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me?” but he just grins and guides you out the doors and into the warm spring sun. You decide not to question him as he helps you sneak past the tree line and rush through the forest. In fact because of how obsessed you were with him he could murder you and you’d probably say thank you.

“Welcome to my humble abode” he says suddenly, a short cave in front of you both. Not in any place to question him, you duck inside just to see there are remnants of human life all around. Rubble from a previously burning fire lies in the center of the cave, blankets and a stack of playboy magazines on a rock to the side, some sort of lamp made out of a human statue. Whatever this place is, it was frequently visited.

“It’s… welcoming” is the word you find yourself saying as you perch yourself on a rock. Charlie just grins, settling onto the ground beside you, back pressed against the rock below you. If you moved only an inch you could hook your leg over his shoulder and the very thought has you stiffening your spine.

“Good, I’m glad. It doesn’t see nearly as much women as it should” Charlie says as he pulls a cigarette free from his pocket. You watch as he strikes a match along the rock you sit on before lighting the filter between his fingers.

“So this is where you take all your conquests?” you joke, crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back against the wall of the cave.

“Not all, but it would be a lie if I said none” he answers with a smirk, the cigarette pressed between his lips tipping upward at the action. You hate how attractive he is, the way you clench your legs together without even touching his skin.

“Does that make me one?” you find the confidence to question, realizing quickly if you’re going to do this little dance you might as well try your hardest to win. You may not be a conquest of Charlie’s but he was definitely one of yours.

Yet the look he gives you, a lustful stare burning behind his eyes, makes it easy to see you might be one of his too. So you anxiously wait as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and blows the smoke towards the hole in the roof of the cave. Finally dropping his head to look back at you. “Only if you want to be”

“I thought I made it pretty clear when I asked to hangout” you say, a tone that oozes honesty pushing the words out. Charlie smiles that dazzling smile and much to your surprise reaches to hook his hand around your leg. Just the simple touch of his fingers curling around your calf sends a shudder down your spine. This is was you had wanted, a chance to live out a daring fantasy with the boy beside you. There was no backing out now, you had to roll the stone away, you’d end up crucified anyway.

“I thought you stared because I was annoying” he mutters, snuffing out the butt end of his cigarettte and abandoning it beside him. You watch with a pounding heart as he lifts himself onto his knees, hand still locked around your leg as he sat before you.

Out of all the ways you had pictured Charlie before, nothing could top him on his knees in front of you, hands holding your legs, itching to make their way up. Taking another daring chance you reach to graze your fingers through his hair, smiling at the way the action makes him instantly close his eyes. “I stared because of how bad I wanted you, that was still annoying though”

He offers a devious grin at that and just hearing the confirmation of how badly you wanted him, he starts to lift his hands up your legs, smiling at the feeling of your bare skin as he moved closer and closer to the hem of your skirt. You can’t stop your head from tipping back and enjoying the way he holds you which is truly holy. Just before his hands reach the end of your skirt, you stop him with your hands landing on top of his.

“Before this gets too far I need you to know this is a long suffering propriety for me. You have no idea how much you’ve haunted me” you tell him, prepared for him to stop his movements and step away from you. He just bumped into you at the library and was looking for a hookup, where you had been in love with the idea of him for far too long.

“I’d be content if you were mine and only mine” he confirms, a sweetness to the usually cocky smile. You’re stunned for a moment, realizing he just chose for it to be only you and him. This alone has you leaning forward and capturing his lips in your own, a messy top lip kiss at first and then slowly shifting into something magical.

The kiss gives Charlie the confidence to continue his trail, fingers slipping beneath your skirt and up the tops of your thighs. You moan at the memory of earlier, where you had imagined him writing mine on your thigh. As if Charlie reads your mind he breaks his lips apart from you, hands bunching up your skirt and revealing the doughy flesh there. He flashes you a smile before pressing a kiss to the top of your thigh and you wish to have it tattooed there forever.

“This is so much better than I imagined” you grin at him, smiling when he lifts his head and slides his hands to your waist. In one swift motion he’s lifted you up, sitting where you just were and settling you on his lap. You grin at the feeling, skirt still bunched up as you straddle his waist.

“Agreed” he says before peppering kisses along your collar bone and you draw your eyebrows together, hands gripping his shoulders for balance as he grinds up into you.

“Wait, you thought of me too?” you ask and he pulls back with that dazzling smile, eyes glazed and shining into your own.

“Guilty as sin babe” he tells you and you can’t help the soft laugh that falls out of you before sealing your mouth around his own. He kisses back just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips as you officially determine this was so much better than trigonometry.

Finally so happy you wondered if you were even allowed to cry.

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jjkilll · 1 year ago

Text

the one where you hate to admit it but jk is right

- pairing I debate captain jk x co-cap y/n

- warning I smut, fingering

- song I you right - doja cat

- wc | 1.4K

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you were co-captain of your university’s debate team. you hated your captain jungkook. he was a know-it-all and you honestly thought you’d be the captain. you thought you deserved it. his mother was the dean of the university so naturally your brain to nepotism.

he was smart and funny, extremely handsome but you’d never admit it to his face. it’d make his head swell. you always found him attractive but that know-it-all attitude had you ready to swing.

he’d always find a way to correct you or use your statements to try and make a better point than yours. you hated it, you almost hated him. the humor, tattoos, biceps, and glasses saved him.

you were at his house going over the points for your upcoming debate.

“okay, but the scarcity of fresh water is insane.” you start explaining. “nearly 1.1 billion people don’t have fresh, safe, and drinkable water.” you finish.

“i understand but 1.1 billion doesn’t even make up half of the population of the world. it doesn’t even make up america’s population. so to say that majority of the world doesn’t have access to clean water is a stretch.” he states matter of factly.

“i just mean in most of most of mexico, and several in africa and europe struggle to find clean water.” you try not to get frustrated with him and try to explain your point further.

“then say that. don’t use such general words. state facts and only facts.” you sigh at his words.

“you are so fucking annoying, my god.” you snap, almost instantly regretting saying anything. he chuckles.

“i’m annoying? do you know how annoying it is to correct you all the time?” he spits. “your a smart girl so for the life of me i can’t even begin to understand your idiocracy.”

“idiocracy? seriously how are you calling me smart and stupid at the same time.”

“i mean i am the captain,” he says with a smirk.

“that doesn’t make you smarter than me, dumbass. that’s just a classic take on nepotism.”

“oh… low blow,” he says with a huff.

“you always think you’re so fucking smart and you always have to be right. i don’t get you.”

“awe, you love me.” he smiles putting his hand over his chest.

“you’re a dick,” you say.

“yea yea, go on to your next point miss generalization,” he mumbles before standing and taking his hoodie off. his shirt rides up with it and you see his body.

holy fuck was he smoking hot. his happy trail had you ready to tie your hair up. you didn’t realize you were ogling him until he cleared his throat.

“maybe you’d make a clear point if you stop staring at me.” he says flopping back down your sofa. “i wasn’t staring at you.” you lie.

“sure,” he says simply.

“you are so haughty.” you scoff, he chuckles. “awe that’s a big word for elmo.” he jokes.

“you know what?” you say slamming your notecards on the table. “what?” he stands walking over to you. “i hate you and your fucking attitude. i hate how dense but somehow detailed you are. i hate when you correct me and make me feel like im an idiot in front of everyone. and what i hate the most…” you start but stop.

“what? tell me, please baby… i’m dying to know.” his nickname catches you off guard. he was so hot being all condescending, you were conflicted. he scoffed at your silence.

“you know what i think? i think…” he starts closing the space between you. “i think the only reason you hate me so bad, is cause you wanna fuck me.” you scoff rolling your eyes. “oh you’ve lost your everlasting mind.” you speak trying not to be shocked at his vulgar choice of words.

“i get in your head, but you can’t help but be attracted to me. it’s so clear that you want me. all of this is unnecessary, you could’ve just asked.” he smirks.

“i hate you.” you spit getting ready to walk away but he grabs your hand pulling you in. you’re chest to chest, “say it again.” he asks. you look up at him, god he’s so fucking sexy. “you usually never shut up and now you don’t have a thing to say. funny. i love the effect i have on you. i make you lose your mind.” you look so little next to him, you hate how needy you feel. you want him so bad.

he holds your face in his hand stocking your cheek with his thumb. he smiles brushing his thumb over your lips. “say you want me.” he whispers. you are absolutely soaked, if he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode. “please.” you whine. “please what?”

he rests his thumb on your lip and you open your mouth and suck on his finger. “ohhh so such a sweet girl. tell me what you want.” he coos.

“please touch me.” you squeak. “awe such good manners,” he says before kissing you deeply. you stumble backward onto the wall. your tongues dance together and he explores your mouth.

“you’re such a good kisser, your lips are so pretty,” he says breaking the kiss but quickly kissing you again.

you grind against him needfully, “awe you are so cute. so needy for me. i love seeing you like this.” you whine craving him. “please just touch me.” he smiles unbuttoning your shorts before kissing your neck.

he slides his hand down your shorts and starts rubbing your clit. you moan but he’s quick when kissing you. you moan into his mouth. “god i’m fucking obsessed with you.” he says breaking the kiss, “all that shit talk but i have you crumbling under me.” he kisses your lips again before plunging a finger inside of you.

“oh shit!” you moan grinding against his hand for more friction. you lean your head back trying to slow your breathing and not be so worked up. you fail, as your breathing is heavy and the pleasure is unfathomable. let out a string of curses before he speaks, “you’re so tight, baby. it’s only one finger. my dick is gonna stretch your little pussy out.” he starts to quicken his pace you are slowly losing your mind. you’re so close you can barely breathe. “please- please make me cum.” you plead.

“beg for it,” he replied quickly. he loved watching you fall apart on his fingers. the little quick-witted sarcastic girl he knew minutes away was long gone. you didn’t want to beg, but you were so desperate and so so close.

“please make me cum jungkook. please ill do anything.” you don’t even recognize your voice, so whiny and pathetic. “open your mouth.” you obey quickly and he spits in your mouth his fingers fucking you faster. “oh my god please.” you repeat like it’s your mantra.

“cum for me, baby. cum on my fingers, let me taste.” his words along with his fingers make you fall apart, your moans are pathetic and squeaky. you grind against him as you cum. he pulls his finger out, covered in you. he looks at you, your eyes low and you look fucked out. he sucks your cum off his finger and smiles.

“guess i was right.” he says kissing you so you could taste yourself. “mm, you taste so sweet.”

your legs are weak from how hard you came.

“i correct you because i believe in you. you are constantly on the right path you just need to delve deeper, you speak so generally, they’ll kick our ass if we don’t come up with facts,” he speaks.

“stop talking about the fucking debate,” you say trying to catch your breath. he laughs grabs your hand, and walks you over to the couch. you plop beside him shorts still unbuttoned. you lay back and he starts to button your shorts but you stop him, noticing the tent in his pants.

“nuh-huh, i want you to fuck me…rough.” you say looking up at him. “ooh, what happened to your manners?” he smirks. “shut up and fuck me,” you say, and he raises his brow. “please?” you add.

“absolutely, baby.” he smiles

“wait so i really was right?” he asks excitedly. “hurry before i change my mind.” you roll your eyes leaning your head back. “cute but we both know you won’t.” he kisses you.

“now come ride this dick, pretty girl.”

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

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faetima · 1 year ago

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I NEED A PART TWO TO SAFETY SCISSORS STATTTT. WHAT ABOUT SCARAS POV??? IS HE DENSE??? I need the reader to DIE and scara finds out and hes zcrushed and RAGH ANGST RAGHHHGHGGRR

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 . . .

. . he just keeps losing everything again and again and again.

// tws ; slight cursing,, ; gn reader ; modern & high school au, hanahaki au

a/n: THANK YOU SM FOR HTIS IDEA OMG ILY

link to safety scissors !!

in his dreams, everyone else was irrelevant.

it was only him and you, you and him.

but now, with you gone, he could only wish his dreams were reality.

if only he wasn’t so fucking dense, if only he saw the way your eyes followed him whenever he was in class or in the halls or in the park or anywhere.

he wished he saw the adoration in your eyes before they were dull, showing the everlasting sign of death.

he wished he saw how your eyes lit up whenever he entered the room before they were blurred and bleary with the cloud of death.

he wished he saw how your eyes followed him like contrails before they were staring blankly at the ceiling of your house.

why did he have to be like this?

if he had just told you his feelings maybe you wouldn’t be dead.

maybe he wouldn’t have lost you.

but maybe life was a losing game for him. he didn’t even have the chance to win—he just lost everything again and again and again until there was nothing left for him.

he lost his mom, his childhood friends, everything.

even you.

—

he remembered that in middle school he had been assigned a project with you.

the moment he heard your name with his, he felt the unusual sensation of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

at the moment, he had just wished you would disappear so that these fucking feelings would go away.

he regretted thinking that so, so much.

karma just kept eating him up and spitting him back out.

—

you and him had both been working on the project, and one thing had led to another and he had suddenly wound up with your left earbud in his ear.

scaramouche wanted you to hate him, wanted you gone.

so he scrunched up his nose in disgust, trying to act indifferent to you and your feelings.

“you listen to this fucking stuff?” he spat, hoping you couldn’t see through his guise.

you had just stayed silent, switching the song.

scaramouche could almost hear the silent cracking of your heart.

—

acting indifferent wouldn’t help anything.

scaramouche should’ve known from all the mistakes he’d done in the past that indifference would go against him, it would never help him.

but he had still acted uncaring anyways.

you were dead now, and all because he decided to act apathetic in order to hide his own feelings for you.

—

he had a memory that, once, in class, you were both seated together. in what seemed to be a haze of nervousness, your leg bounced up and down as you took shaky breaths, anxious and flustered by the fact he was sitting next to you.

scaramouche didn’t know what to do.

maybe if he acted bitter and shit you would stop liking him and these stupid fucking feelings would go away, right? it had always worked in the past, so it wouldn’t fail him now.

but it did. it faltered and failed him and now he regretted it all.

“can you stop that?” his sharp voice cut through the deafening silence of the classroom like a butter knife. you had glanced up, your eyes meeting his. scaramouche’s hands were clenched into fists, cold and clammy from anxiety.

wait, why the fuck was he nervous?

he took a shaky breath in, hoping this angry guise was working. he tried to scowl at you, watching as your eyes filled with the lightest layer of tears, making your eyes look like glass.

“sorry,” he silently watched as you apologized, immediately dropping your gaze down to the desk. scaramouche felt a soft pang of regret, but decided to ignore it.

“whatever,” he spat out, rolling his eyes. his neck and face were burning and his ears had the lightest tint of pink to them. scaramouche prayed that you didn’t notice how flustered he got.

—

maybe if he had confessed, you wouldn’t be gone now.

but no, he just had to keep losing everything again and again and again and again.

he broke into a coughing fit, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

and, as scaramouche lowered his hand, a singular purple petal fluttered onto his palm.

#✦ -- scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #light angst #angst #how to write angst #modern au #hanahaki #hanahaki au #hanahaki disease #high school #shy reader #scaramouche x shy reader #part 2 #modern #high school au #gn reader

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isilwhore · 4 months ago

Text

Maedhros and Maglor Week-Day 6: Kinslayers

Maedhros cannot bear it, yet he must. Maglor says nothing, his unbreakable gaze on three figures, shrouded and still. He does not stir when the twins touch him. Only his lips move, mouthing a silent song.

“I will search for the children,” Maedhros announces, thinking his brother may appreciate it when he wakes from his stupor. Yet it is a futile task; he knows they are likely gone.

Still, he must go. Into the solace of the winter woods. To cast off the armor of the heart, the illusion of strength. Alone to grieve, where his screams will go unheard.

****

Three brothers slain for hallowed gem

Accursed oath has taken them

I’d give my life for one more day

Together, carefree, faraway

Where ere unburdened we did roam

Across our long forsaken home

I wonder, broken, full of woe

Beyond my reach, where will they go?

Healing halls, dark everlasting?

Questions I have regret asking

Gone is their fervor and their light

Thus part of me has died this night

I’ve followed them through doom and flames

Oh, how it hurts to speak their names!

My brothers, who I once sang for

And now to them I sing no more

@maedhrosmaglorweek

#maedhrosmaglorweek #maedhros #maglor #silmarillion #silm drabbles

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fwoopersongs · 4 days ago

Text

以沫 - Yi Mo (shared breath)

youtube

相濡以沫 lit. to moisten each other with spittle This was derived from Chapter 6 of Zhuangzi, The Grand Master, 'When the spring dried up, the fish found themselves dwelling on land together. They wetted each other with their breath, and moistened each other with their spit. It had been better times when they were unfamiliar strangers in the rivers and lakes.' This idiom has come to metaphorically describe people who help each other with whatever little they have while in difficult circumstances themselves. Legend: Fei Du, Luo Wenzhou, Both (yellow in the video)

In my heart, there is a thicket of flowers growing outstretched toward the blazing sun, more fragrant than all the finest wines. Their searing fragrance once flooded the chest of a man made of straw; and from then on, that straw man’s conviction would endure beyond time.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The turning days of yesteryear still vivid: In your eyes, the moth is aflame. [1] Why do you choose silence? [2] Many years have passed… who is that now softly reading? Life and death, love and hate - divided. [3]

The gates of hell are wide open; my sight blurs more and more. [4] Reciting memorized names from the list of devils, that’s me, barely breathing. Vanishing suddenly, the shooting star is a flash across the sky filled with reluctance; [5] with the cigarette snuffed out, your silhouette is outlined by the darkness.

I am adrift alone, the molten lava’s searing flow rising past my chest; the fragrant blossoms in my heart reach toward the blazing sun. [6a] You go to that faraway place where there is no sunrise, no first light… [7] but likewise - no regrets; you walk into the abyss, and I with you. [8]

A single song plays on loop; in me, the past is deeply branded. Time is being squandered, discerning good from evil, where they begin and end. [9] These twinkling lights of a million homes… are they worth mooring for? Lost within the fog, that brilliance quietly fades. [10]

I am adrift alone, the molten lava’s searing flow rising past my chest; the fragrant blossoms in my heart reach toward the blazing sun. You go to that faraway place where there is no sunrise, no first light… but likewise - no regrets; you walk into the abyss, and I with you.

The ship docks in the harbor, a ray of light shining through the window. I am by your side; my heart and my hurts healed. The waves shatter and rise again—cyclical, they bear witness to the past, and with time, become boundless and everlasting. [6b]

Ten thousand years later, you and I, we’ve transformed into two clouds of foam. [11] Reunited, two gasping fish upon the rocks each spitting foam on the other, [12] refusing to part.

A moment of your tenderness, and the vast indifferent sea of Others shattered, [13] the chronic affliction self-healed, the crimson blood dimmed. ‘Without your permission’ I’ve left the sand dunes and the wastelands far behind, all for that one instant of starlight. [14]

A lone boat sails the misty waves - to save me. [15]

NOTES

My goodness. It’s been quite a while since my last song closely linked with a novel. This one has all the distinct vibes of a fansong xD I don’t know if it was because it’s written for audiodrama or if it was already an existing one before this, but either way I have missed this flavour of song! It was such a nostalgic experience to listen to it on a loop and play around with guessing references, even if this isn’t my fandom.

As usual, I have not (fully) read the novel it was based on, and as such this is a semi context-free take. Y’all really have @decrescendo to thank for this, because the translation is brought to you by yj’s last braincell that grabbed on to -

- and REFUSED to let go.

BTW, that’s a screencap of her (previously) work in progress fanvid for Justice in the Dark, the 默读 drama adaptation that finally after sooooooooo much difficulty and fridging, finally got broadcast. And she finished it too - COME WATCH IT HERE!

Are any of them worth anchoring for? And then the answer was SO GOOD. If you’re a Mo Du or JITD fan, I’ll leave you to experience the full song in my post and then see what A did in her fanvid.

Anyway, full disclosure: I’ve read about ⅕ of the priest’s 默读 on jjwxc (plus all the Fei Du major injury scenes *cough*) and about nine or ten episodes of Justice in the Dark - still need to get back to it someday - and have osmosed the barest gist of the story. It may have been enough to make fairly educated guesses at what some parts of the song were about. BUT!!!! For a context based translation, Chaikat has a very in-depth writeup here. Also check it out in general because this is a SINGABLE version in English (omg). I’ve tried it. It works!!!! So many kudos for this labour of love.

Onwards to annotations for the song!

[1] 朝夕如昨你眼中飞蛾扑火 The turning days of yesteryear still vivid: In your eyes, the moth is aflame.

What this reads like to me is, ‘In all the times we spent together that are playing back in my mind now, it’s clear you were going to do something not recommended by EHS - it was written in your eyes.’

The first four words are literally [dawn and dusk] [like yesterday]. The common usages of 朝夕are things like indicating the passage of time, a cycle of day and night i.e. short period of time, or doing something/something happening day and night and so on. It threw me for a loop for a while because I hadn’t made the latter connection xD And then separately, like its english counterpart, ‘like moth to a flame’, in 飞蛾扑火 there is a layer of inevitability and self destructiveness inherent in that image. Also it’s so dramatic that my brain automatically provides an image of the moth already burning up in the fire it threw itself on.

[2] 为何选择沉默 Why do you choose silence?

This was a delightfully ambiguous line because there is no subject in the sentence. Is this a question for Fei Du - why didn’t you say anything about your past and your plans? Or is this a question for himself, Luo Wenzhou - you observed all the signs and said nothing about them!

I like that a lot. It’s nice to chew on!

[3] 生死同爱恨分隔 Life and death, love and hate - divided.

The literal translation of this is, ‘life and death have been separated from love and hate’. My context-free understanding of this is that it’s natural for life, death, love and hate to be intertwined, and so for there to be a separation, something unnatural must have happened. Of course, the line could be a neutral statement about how feelings for a person exist no matter their state of being. However, from the preceding line 多年又过是谁轻声诵读着 | Many years have passed… who is that now softly reading? it already sounds very tied to plot shenanigans unbeknownst to me.

In song context, I would guess that the character’s will to live, fear of death and human emotions have become, hmmm… not so accessible. And that has something to do with the person reading the literary work (classic literature) aloud. 诵读 is doing that - usually specifically with a literary work - with emotions, bringing it to life.

(Also I couldn’t figure out if 诵读 is a closed book i.e. reciting or an open book exercise, so if someone knows please enlighten me! It was interesting to read this detailed description of schooling requirements for reading aloud from The Education University of Hong Kong LOL)

[4] 地狱之门大开着眼前愈发浑浊 The gates of hell are wide open; my sight blurs more and more.

Both figurative statements I think. In song context (influenced by my vague impression of novel context) the crimes keep happening and mastermind (?) behind them has muddied the waters. The moth flying toward the flames in the song (Fei Du) is also not sharing everything he knows. And so for the other character (Luo Wenzhou) from whom things are hidden, it’s increasingly hard to see the truth as plot things go on.

[5] 猝然消逝的流星一闪划过 / 明明不舍 Vanishing suddenly, the shooting star is a flash across the sky filled with reluctance;

I think this is just imagery representation for vanishingly small moments of joy? But also to set the path for the lights and stars that come later. The parts about the shooting star were sung by Fei Du, but the ‘obviously reluctant’ line was by Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou together. They timed it so well that it is a full sentence.

Song logic: Something wondrous that makes you feel fortunate to see it flashes by, and you feel reluctance to see it go. I gave the emotions to the shooting star because it was more Romantic, but you know they were felt by the observer(s) too. A pause to live in the moment. But then it's time to do something hard in the shadows.

[6a] 我一人漂浪岩浆滚烫漫过胸膛心底的芬芳向烈日生长 / [6b] …同时光万寿无疆 I am adrift alone, the molten lava’s searing flow rising past my chest; the fragrant blossoms in my heart reach toward the blazing sun. / …and with time, become boundless and everlasting.

Preserving an alternate version of 6a here: I am adrift alone, the searing molten lava overflowing from my chest.

These are references to the ‘reflection letter’ Fei Du wrote, that though disguised as a prank to irk Luo Wenzhou with its mushiness, was actually a confession. I don't know at what point this was written canonically, but with the way Fei Du was coughing, I'd guess it's after something not great for general health and safety (likely that final thingy where he did the thing xD I have only vague memories of it).

The story of this song only feels complete with this piece, which is why I wanted to keep them together xD

[7] 没有黎明不见曙光 You go to that faraway place where there is no sunrise, no first light…

黎明 is a [time] i.e. dawn, when the sky is about to turn light or has just started to turn light. 曙光 is that light itself. But also refers to the light of hope for a bright future.

[8] 也无悔深渊同往 but likewise - no regrets; you walk into the abyss, and I with you.

I just wanted to yell about @decrescendo’s *YEETING* here: ‘No regrets, then - the abyss can have me too’. THAT WAS SO GOOD. I love it. It’s so creative and gets the vibe perfectly while being economical with wordcount xD

[9] 光阴在无度挥霍分清善恶始末 Time is being squandered, discerning good from evil, where they begin and end.

I absolutely imagined this as a :/ and Luo Wenzhou figuratively tapping his disapproving fingers on Fei Du’s previous sentence.

[10] 这人间万家灯火值不值得靠岸停泊迷雾中湮没光影悄悄褪色 These twinkling lights of a million homes… are they worth mooring for? Lost within the fog, that brilliance quietly fades.

Literally what the text says here xD but I just want to sigh at the meandering journey he took to find a worthwhile *home* out of the ‘abyss’ in song logic.

[11] 两朵泡沫 two clouds of foam

朵 is literally the collective noun for cloud in Chinese xD I couldn't help it :P

[12] …礁石上相濡以沫... …two gasping fish upon the rocks spitting foam on each other…

Yup it’s that idiom! I moved the translation originally here right to the start xD There was also the full TL of a passage from Zhuangzi xD but it was pretty depressing and unrelated, and so was taken out. Maybe it can be its own thing sometime when I get around to reading the full text xD.

[13] 你温柔那刻茫茫人海化作粉末... A moment of your tenderness, the vast indifferent sea of Others shattered…

From A hahahahh

YES

I also really like callback to the earlier 万家灯火 | twinkling lights of a million homes with 茫茫人海 | the crowd of people like a sea. That feeling of alienation (wanting and not having a light left on for you to come home to, being alone in the clamor of a crowd) can be crushingly lonely. And the moment of tenderness that shatters that and heals your pain!!! Just as worldview shaking as the blossoming flowers that flood the chest of the straw man :)

[14] 我未经允诺告别沙丘远离荒漠只为那一瞬星火 ‘Without your permission’ I’ve left the sand dunes and the wastelands far behind, all for that one instant of starlight.

Making ‘without your permission’ a quote was a liberty I took after listening to this song on loop for a ridiculous number of times. The exceedingly formal 我未经允诺 - casually ‘without your permission’ but it’s actually on a more formal register than that, and I just don’t know how to render it lol - just really stood out as there was nothing about a promise to inform Luo Wenzhou or anything of the sort throughout the song. Fei Du has also never given any indication he was aware of anyone else in this duet until that verse that they sung together (because of surviving the yeet into the abyss with Luo Wenzhou?).

[15] 孤舟随烟波渡我 A lone boat sails the misty waves - to save me.

And this is the basis for their names isn’t it? The boat and the person to be delivered from suffering.

#默读 #以沫 #奇然 #小魂 #Mo Du #i had soooooooooooooooooo much fun with this one

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mehkers · 8 months ago

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Talking To The Moon

Inspired by the song “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars. Enjoy the angst ;)

Contents: Mammon from Obey Me, altered song lyrics, angst with no comfort, mc death, bittersweet, mammon x reader (romantic or platonic or whatever else)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey.. Are you still there?”

His voice rang out into the calm expanse of the everlasting streams of purples and blues painting the sky of the Devildom. His white hair glimmered brighter than the stars he gazed upon.

“I know yer there, arentcha? With that silly look of yours.”

A small chuckle escaped his quivering lips. The usual confidence he donned was slowly pealed away piece by piece as he stood. Usually seen around one of his brothers, now alone in the vast expanse of the void filled with regret and grief.

“Where are ya?”

A pause; a moment of silence. The electric yellow and chill blue of his eyes sparkled and glistened with an endless river desperately being contained.

“Ya told me that humans believed that they became stars when they died. What a load of bull… hic… Yer stupid, ya know? A fool! And I was an even bigger one..”

The dam broke, and so the river transformed into a spectacular waterfall.

“I know you’re somewhere out there. Just.. come back to me, please. You’re all I had.”

The tanned demon sat on the grass, and continued to look at the stars, hoping that he’d find you, continuing to shine amongst the blanket of stars.

#mehkers #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me mammon #nightbringer mammon #mammon x reader

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holyhaech · 5 months ago

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6 pls with renjun 😈😈😈🐻🐻🐻🐻🍓🍓🍓🍓👅👅👅👅

letting go

f!reader x ravenclaw!huang renjun (angst, renjun's an asshole..sorry)

you met him in the middle of your 5th year. he was a fellow ravenclaw, but you had never interacted outside of house events.

that year was different though. 2023 was gonna be a year to behold. no more failing classes, no more sulking around. no, you were gonna own this year.

well, that was your plan anyway, until he came along. renjun huang. the name you’d never heard, but would eventually never forget.

you were on your way to the potions classroom, still waking from your 3 hours of sleep. he walked in before you, yet he didn’t hold the door open for you. silly detail to remember, but it sticks out to you now.

he always put himself first, no matter how many times he’d tell you not.

he was always bound for greatness. unfortunately, he was the first to notice.

“not a humble bone in his body” is what your friends would tell you. you knew you were stupid to fall for him, but you couldn’t help it. he had this pull, this charisma that attracted everyone who came into contact with him.

you should’ve known you weren’t special. after all, no one was to renjun huang. he was the center of his universe. hell, he was the center of everyone’s universe. everyone loved him. they adored him. no matter how worthless he made them feel, if you got even a glance from renjun, you were considered blessed.

you couldn’t stop after that quidditch game.

he flew by on his broom, snatching the golden snitch like always. you made eye contact with him, not the only one he was looking at, in retrospect. he won the game for ravenclaw. everyone was cheering him on, offering celebration in his honor, but he could only speed past them. he had better things to do, after all.

a year has passed and it was now valentine’s day. you had worked up the courage to finally give him the letter. your confession was sealed under the wax print of a yellow rose.

when you went to give it to him, you found you weren’t the only one. swarmed with girls, per usual. you stood in the back, not wanting to be first. you watched as he received letter upon letter, with not a single emotion found on his face. you saw, as the admirers left, him throwing away the letters.

each. and. every. single. letter.

he walked off, without a care in the world, as you watched in shock. you started crying, storming back to the ravenclaw dorm.

you entered the dorm with a sense of clarity.

fuck him.

no, not just “him”

fuck renjun huang. his name needs to be said aloud and cursed for generations.

so you decided to move on for yourself. you took the letter out of your robe pocket and point at the fireplace, “incendio.” you throw the letter into the fire, crying as you hear the words you wrote verbalize in your head. you watched as the yellow wax melted again, signifying a new beginning like a phoenix. when every last fiber of paper was turned to ash, you blew out the fire. you stood there and took in a breath as you feel your sorrow morph into an everlasting rage.

renjun huang will regret the day he broke your heart.

a/n: title is inspired by the song "letting go" by day6. i wanted to do a hogwarts fic, but i guess the angst monster won't let me out of his shackles yet. anyways...THANK YOU ELI FOR THE REQ.

#nct au #nct fanfic #nct x reader #renjun #huang renjun #nct angst #nct dream x you #nct dream #nct dream angst #nct renjun #hogwarts au #harry potter au #renjun x reader

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stealingyourbones · 10 months ago

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a first draft Danny Phantom animatic that I know damn well I won't finish. Song is Liars by Melted Bodies

Lyrics of the part of the song i used under read more

wake up feeling leveled and low i’ve got a hundred things to do, but i’m moving too slow

i start to think about last night and i’m full of regrets again another night waking up in cold sweats

i’m told there’s nothing really wrong, expectations so high and yet the goals that i’ve made aren’t enough to survive

the everlasting empty that grows deeper inside

the fact that nothing’s wrong is what is wrong i need to be the me i see

i should have told the truth but i would rather wait in line to self implode woah+oh

i told you nothing was wrong that’s a lie i told you nothing was wrong that’s a lie i said that everything was alright that’s a lie i said that everything’s okay but that’s a lie

#danny phantom #bones art #bones animates #bones animatic #this is metal so warning its loud and the music might not be for everyone.

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seokmn · 5 months ago

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chapter 19.

wc: 1k words

the music was blasting and people were dancing like there was no tomorrow. but you were focused on something else: finding chan.

“i thought you werent talking to each other,” goeuns voice made you get back to earth again. “we’re not… i just want to take a look at him, thats all.”

you tried to act nonchalant, but goeun (or anyone else) wasnt buying it. the way your eyes were glued on the door, just waiting for the sight of chan entering the room, was quite foolish.

“if you say so,” goeun chuckled. “look, im going to actually enjoy the prom. if you ever need me, ill be with the other. having fun. enjoying the night.”

“yea yea, go there and show them why youre an idol.”

goeun just scoffed, amused by how focused you were on chan and chan only, and walked away. you stayed there, staring at the door, “secretly” waiting for your ex boyfriend to finally show up.

after what felt like hours, the door opened, revealing chan in his black suit holding a bouquet. he stopped in his tracks and started to look for someone, you.

when his eyes landed on you, he could swear his heart skipped a beat and that he saw sparkles flying around you.

chan smiled from ear to ear. to him, you looked prettier than aphrodite and the dress you were wearing looked like it was made for you. he felt so lucky that he was finally going to talk to you, to finally make this breakup come to an end.

“hey, you look…” chan got closer to you and looked at you up and down, as if he was trying to make sure you were real. “ethereal.”

you smiled shyly. youve spent years hearing chan compliment you, and he never failed to make you shy. but this time it hit harder, as if it was his first time complimenting you. “thank you, you look really good as well. we’re kinda matching,” you pointed your dress and then at his suit coat. he noticed how you were indeed matching and chuckled.

“well, i guess its the universe trying to tell us something,” he smiled and handed you the bouquet. “by the way, these are for you.”

you took the bouquet with shiny eyes. “for me? thank you!” you took a sight at the bouquet full of purple columbines and baby’s breaths. you had to hold back your tears when you thought about his choice of flowering plant and flower.

“everlasting love and resolution,” chan smiled at you. “i looked it up before, wanted to give you a meaningful gift, yknow?.”

you were about to say something, to thank him once again, but he spoke up first. “listen, can we talk?”

“i- sure, lets talk.”

chan guided you to an empty school’s hallway, trying to be as careful as possible to not let any teacher see you two and make you come back.

“okay, so you remember that i promised you i wouldnt bother you until i find a solution to our problem, right?” you nodded and he placed his hands on your shoulders. “i found the solution, yn. i found a new company, its seungcheol’s upcoming company. he talked to me about it, we talked about how he left the company i was training at and how it really helped his career and we talked about his project of creating a company as well. he asked me if i was interested to join his company and i said yes.”

“chan, this is awesome! im so happy for you,” you gave him a small smile. you were truly happy for him, going to a friends company? that was truly amazing. however, you still didnt see how that would be the resolution for your issue.

“thanks, but the best part is about to come. i’ll debut as only a singer, not an idol. and before you pout, i made this decision because in that way our relationship wont be a problem and i can still sing, dance in my mvs, have albums for my comebacks and all that stuff. i just wont be considered as a true idol, which is not an actual problem because ill be doing everything that ive ever wanted.”

“are you sure about this, chan? what if you regret your decision later?”

“trust me on this at least once, yn. im pretty sure of what im doing, so what if i wont promote my songs on music programs? if im really talented, ill end up being recognized and successful either way,” he caressed your cheek. “ive already said yes to seungcheols offer. im going to talk to him about that a little bit more at tuesday. so, what do you say? will you be mine again, yn?”

chan could see the feeling of confusion and conflict in your eyes, he knew you werent sure of what to say. you wanted him back, that was no doubt, but you didnt want to be an annoying rock on his path to his dream.

“im happy with my decision, yn, and i will go with this even if you dont accept me back. but im here, pouring my heart out for you once again, telling you that i want you back, i want to make you happy again, to be able to call you mine once again. so please…” his voice started to get lower, the words coming out as a whisper while he pressed his forehead against yours. “say yes, say you accept me back. say you want me as your boyfriend again.”

you took a deep breath, and nodded. “yes… ill be yours again, chan,” he smiled and looked at you, his forehead still pressed against yours. “i knew youd make the right decision.”

chan placed his hand on the back of your neck and kissed you as if it was his first and last kiss he would give you. you reciprocated the kiss with the same intensity, placing your arms around his neck and pulling him closer as if you were scared of him running away.

“ive lost you once, i wont lose you again. i swear,” chan said right after you broke the kiss.

“promise me?”

“promise you. ill be yours and youll be mine until our last breath.”

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

yn and chan date since their freshman year and are truly high school sweethearts, but will chan’s dream of becoming an idol get between their relationship?

masterlist – prev – next

taglist: @ivehypnosis @wonkierideul @ateez-atiny380 @noircheols @222brainrot @odxrilove @vixensss @starshuas @ziidino @headlockimnida @svtmaru

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hannahmanderr · 2 years ago

Note

BUT i will also ask for everlasting trio >:)

"Okay, look." Danny sucked in a long breath. "I've thought about this long and hard, right? And you know, I really don't think I want to do this, soooo, now that I've come to that decision, we can just call this good, yeah?"

Sam scoffed. "Fat chance, Fenton. You're doing this whether you like it or not. Quit being such a baby."

"You just gotta relax!" Tucker said, clapping a hand on Danny's shoulder. "It's really not as bad as it seems."

"You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding. This is, like, more dangerous than fighting Plasmius, the Ghost King, and - I don't know, Clockwork all at the same time!"

"Why would you be fighting Clockwork?"

"You do remember he tried to kill him the first time we met him?" Sam asked apathetically. "I'm getting tired of this. You've got one more chance before I come up there and manhandle you into doing this, ghost boy."

Danny balked, turning paler than normal. "You guys don't get it! I'm just -" He snapped his mouth shut as he realized he'd been about to spill something he very much did not want to spill.

Unfortunately for him, Tucker and Sam knew him too well. They stuck him each with their own look of suspicion. "You're just what?" Tucker asked.

But Danny didn't answer. Instead, he slouched in on himself, folding into a position Jazz would surely give him an earful of a lecture on the importance of good posture if she saw him like this. "It's nothing," he grumbled. "You two would just laugh."

Though he didn't see it, Tucker and Sam exchanged a look. Sam's face softened from utter irritation to mild disdain as she saw the pitiful puppy-dog face Tucker was giving her. Seriously? she asked with her eyes.

Yes, seriously! He needs this.

I don't want to coddle him!

It's not coddling, it's called supporting our boyfriend in his time of need.

Sam let loose a loud sigh. "We're not gonna laugh at you, Danny. If it really means that much to you."

Danny cast them a sidelong look. "Right. Because you sound so genuine about it."

"C'mon, you know she means it," Tucker prodded gently. "She's just being her sassy Sam self."

"Hey!"

"If there's something on your mind," he continued, ignoring Sam's protest, "we want to hear it. That's what we're here for."

"There's a reason we love you, dork," she said, a smile finally crossing her face as she punched Danny lightly in the arm.

Danny couldn't help but crack a tiny grin of his own. "You promise you won't laugh?"

"Mmm, within reason."

He sighed and somehow slouched into his seat further. "I'm... scared, alright? I'm scared of this."

Sam laughed.

Immediately, Danny whirled around to face her, eyes blazing. "You promised!"

"Sorry, sorry!" she said between giggles. "Okay, sorry. For real. But seriously, what's there to be scared of? It can't be any scarier than flying, and you do that all the time."

"It's way scarier than flying! At least when I'm flying I have control! How am I supposed to have control over this?"

"That's the point of practicing," Tucker said. "So that way you do have control. Like I said, it's really not that bad once you get the hang of it."

"You won't know till you try," Sam taunted in a sing-song voice.

Danny's eyes flickered back and forth between his partners. Tucker wore his heart on his sleeve often enough for him to know he meant his words. Sam preferred to hide behind a mask of indifference and righteous indignation, but she couldn't hide her true feelings from him after so many years.

"Fine," he grumbled, sitting up. "I'll try. And I'm sure I'll regret it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, the three sat with pale faces and clenched fists.

"How. Did you manage. To do that?" Sam whispered in bewilderment.

Danny's hands refused to let go of their hold. "I tried to tell you!"

Tucker shook visibly. "I thought you were exaggerating when you said you drive worse than your dad!"

"How could I possibly exaggerate that?"

Sam's poor little Impala sat perfectly nestled at an angle, straddled between two of the dumpsters behind the Nasty Burger. The little blob ghost clan who had claimed the dumpsters as their home had come out to investigate the commotion and were currently cuddling up to the three shell-shocked teens, chirping in an effort to calm them down.

"I want to know how you always forget you literally have the power to turn intangible!" Sam punctuated her statement with another punch to Danny's arm, this one harder than the last.

"Well, excuse me! I'd like to see you try to remember that sort of thing when you're in the heat of the moment!"

"I really can't believe that somehow, Danny Fenton is a worse driver than his dad," Tucker whistled, unfazed by the argument happening to his side.

Two of the blob ghosts, Jeff and Ketchup, glanced at each other from their spot squished against Danny's stomach before returning to their cuddle session. Nothing really out of the ordinary when these three were involved.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #everlasting trio #ask hannah #ask game #dooshek #LONG LIVE TEAM DANNY FENTON IS A GOD AWFUL DRIVER #for the record #i had this idea long before that poll came out #and long before kad and i laughed about how terrible of a driver danny would be #and long before we made the playlist he would make in an attempt to get valerie to let him drive #thanks for the ask!!

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astarionancuntnin · 10 months ago

Text

Taming a Tempest

summary: oh, to be the Vampire Ascendant's dark consort. to have eternity and enhanced powers right at her finger tips - only to be denied. but two could play this game, and Malva would make Astarion regret witholding anything from her.

rating: E

word count: 3.5k

pairing: ascended astarion x consort malva (oc, evil!sorcerer!tav)

cw: 18+. post-game setting with an "evil" ending, mention of violence/murder, smut, hate sex, vampire sex (blood/bites), bdsm (Master/Pet, teasing, choking, slapping, degradation and praise), semi-public sex, overstimulation, p in v, possessive sex, creampie. full list on ao3

a/n: song inspo was BURY YOU by ari abdul

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Love.

It was such an alien concept to her.

A weakness, something to take advantage of, to manipulate.

A weapon.

Charming people, luring them away, leading them to their demise — for business or for fun, although the two coincided more often than not in her case.

So when Astarion first flirted with Malva, she saw right through his little games, but instead of giving him a taste of what she could do, she decided to play along. After all, he could be a distraction, but one she could afford.

Until it turned out to be more, and she realised she had fallen harder for him than she anticipated, and soon enough he was offering her eternity by his side, as his consort. Obviously, as the promise of everlasting life and uncontested power were all that she desired and more, her choice was clear.

However, after a few years of this, life became dull, and Malva found herself wanting — no, needing, more. She had had as much fun as she desired, killing, torturing, draining, now too. She had risen to the top of the city’s hierarchy, along with Astarion, while the city itself became a shadow of its once glorious self. But it had all become dull, and she wanted more, always more power.

A routine had settled, and with the rules her Master established to keep a minimum of decency around the palace, she couldn't indulge as much as she would've preferred, and recently, it had become an itch that she urged to scratch. If she was already bored after a measly few years, eternity would be dreary.

“Kill only the targets I assign you, and no matter what, you are forbidden from bedding them.” He had ordered her. “You can seduce them, tease them, even, but I won’t allow anyone to lay their tainted lips on your body. You are mine, and mine only.”

Following this command was simple enough; next to her Master and herself, all her victims were considered lowly people, insignificant.

Tonight, her Lord organised a soiree of debauchery to share a part of his ever growing army of spawns; those who specialised in pleasures of the flesh. He had repurposed the mansion’s rooms to turn it into a luxurious whorehouse, inviting the remaining power figures in the city — all more corrupt than the last — to establish an alliance.

That’s what he made it out to be, but really, everyone knew this was only meant as a show of power from the Vampire Ascendant. To show everyone else who owned this city, and exactly what their fates could be if they accepted his reign, and make an example of those who were to challenge his authority.

Just like this pretentious Lord who dared to gossip about him and his consort, questioning their position, but it didn't matter; he would be dealt with, just like the others.

Malva was well known across town; the Ascendant’s whore, she had heard, being passed around by the visitors that the vampire Lord deemed worthy. How ignorant of them, how perfectly blind they were to reality.

Her shoulder-length, light purple hair was let down for the night, and she wore a simple eyeliner and mascara, emphasising her soulless, black eyes. Her natural features hid her vampiric nature perfectly, blending in as nothing more than a mean-looking high elf, and Astarion made sure to keep this a secret. The only piece from her ensemble to hide the one proof of her immortality being her neck piece: a dark, thick choker, that hid the otherwise evident bite marks depicting her ownership, with a conveniently placed silver ring in the back of it, barely hidden by her hair.

She made sure to wear one of her most revealing dresses to fit the occasion, one that fit Astarion’s ensemble; a dark, see-through dress, with vines of bright red oleander flowers embroidered onto the long sleeves and bleeding over her chest, barely covering her nipples, knowing anyone who looked at her for too long would get their eyes gouged out by her Lord. A smile crossed her dark lips at the thought.

As Malva scanned the ball room, sitting in display over her Lord’s lap, she found her target: Lord Azarzi.

He might’ve been considered handsome by mortal standards; with his deep brown eyes, short, wavy hair and a full moustache of the same colour, a bright smile and tanned skin. Faerûn would lose yet another soul tonight.

How tragic. How exquisite.

Through their bond, Astarion felt her delicious hunger for blood.

“Now, now, pet, no need to be hasty.” he purred close to her ear. “Remember what’s at stake; I'll reward you if you're good,” he let go of her waist, pushing her towards the open floor, where the remaining guests waited for an available room. “Now go on, make me proud.”

She always did; seeing her work her way around their enemies was a delightful sight to him, she was his most precious possession, and he loved to see her in action.

Although Astarion’s rewards were nothing short of delightful, she was dying to know what a punishment would look like.

She had to have her fun one way or the other, and if he wasn’t going to allow it, she would show him that she never asked for permission in the first place.

Her bloodlust naturally guided her next movements, fluidly passing through the crowd as she made her way to her victim of the night.

“Lord Azarzi,” she greeted him, his name gracefully rolling on her tongue. “I'm pleased to see you have accepted our invitation.”

“Ah, Lady Tavaler,” he reached for her hand, lifting it to give it a light kiss before letting it go. “Of course, I could never refuse an invitation from the mighty Vampire Lord.”

She despised the use of her name, but tried to shrug off its mention, along with the vivid images she had of how long and painful would this man's torturing be. All in due time.

“Call me Malva, please. I don't believe titles are quite necessary for this kind of occasion, don't you think?” She moved closer towards him, her hands finding the front of his shirt, tracing her way down his chest. “Have you had the chance to enjoy our exquisite company yet?”

He shivered under her touch, her sharp, dark nails digging through his shirt, “I'm afraid I haven't yet, no. Your rooms are quite busy, as it turns out.”

She clicked her tongue, “That simply won't do.” She took a hold of his hands, guiding them over her waist where they now laid, and pressed herself into him. “You're our guest of honour, you deserve the best treatment.”

His eyes peered down her dress, where her breast squeezed against his chest, with his hands lowering towards her ass, fully bare under her dress. “Do I now?”

She would enjoy killing him.

Her lips ghosted over the shell of his ear as she whispered, “Absolutely.”

Her eyes darted towards Astarion, and she smiled wickedly when she noticed the way his hands dug into the armrests at his side, fighting to contain the seething fury within him.

“Why don’t you follow me into one of our classier suites, reserved for the richest of our guests?” She continued, with her hand dancing around the back of his neck, guiding him into her, “I’ll personally take care of you tonight, if you will have me. Consider it a gift from the Vampire Ascendant, for accepting his invitation.”

He smiled, his brown moustache lifting along his lips, “Well then, who am I to deny the Vampire Lord himself?”

Her dark smile reached her cheeks, keeping her lips closed to hide her fangs, “I was hoping you would say that.”

As she grabbed his hand to carry him away to her special chambers where she guided all her victims, she felt the reach of Astarion’s mind.

“Careful, pet, wouldn’t want me to be jealous, would you?”

“Jealous? Of this meek mortal? My Lord, that doesn’t sound very highly of you,” she answered back through her mind.

“You know how I feel about people touching you, Malva. This is my last warning.”

“And here I thought you were the most powerful being of this city. I wasn’t planning on bedding this man, but maybe I should now. Maybe he’ll show me how a real man fucks and he’ll make me come in ways you never could.”

Oh, she could feel Astarion’s anger even from this distance. Good.

She didn’t make it to the room before she felt the Lord at her back pinning her to the nearest wall, his body pressing against her, rubbing his bulge between the curves of her ass.

“So the rumours were true; the vampire Lord has a whore as a wife…” He chuckled deeply, his hands roaming at the front of her dress, groping her breasts through her dress. “I have to admit, I always wondered how the Ascendant’s witch would feel stretched around my cock.” He breathed hard down her neck, his tongue tracing just below her ear, “Do you wanna find out, doll?”

She tilted her head as an invitation, “I believe I can please you in more interesting ways, my Lord.”

“That so?”

She smiled a toothy grin, “Ways you could only ever dream of.”

He scoffed, pulling back to free her from his hold on her, “Fine, I’ll bite, show me what you can do.”

The irony of his choice of words wasn’t lost on her, as she turned back to face him, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his muscled chest. A shame he had to die really, he had at least some potential.

Pulling back on his rolled down shirt, she guided her head into his neck where she breathed in his essence; pine and charcoal, with hints of citrus. Not the most displeasing, but would he taste the same?

She closed her eyes as she licked along the vein popping from his neck, her next feeding point, and he groaned, “You’ll have to try harder than that to please me, sweetie.”

Just as her tongue licked over her threatening teeth, about to dive her fangs into the delicious vein put on display just for her, she felt him being pushed into her, and when she opened her eyes, she was met with the very face of her Creator.

He twisted the blade into his back before pulling it out to slam it back into him countless times, blinded by his anger, as Malva was sprayed of his coughed up blood, adding a nice shade of red onto her pale, tattooed face and staining her skin through her dress.

Lord Azarzi, now nothing but a lifeless corpse, sank to his knees before collapsing on the wooden, waxed floor.

“Really? That was a waste of perfectly fine blood,” She grunted as she crossed her arms, dismissing the body at her feet. “Now how am I going to feed tonight? This is as good as rotten.”

“Oh, you don’t get to give me that attitude,” He growled, grabbing her by her throat and pushing her against the same wall she was pinned to moments ago. “Not after teasing me like you did.”

She smiled, flashing her fangs, “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“You insolent, little brat,” He tightened his grasp on her neck and her mouth opened up with a gasp. “I’m a lenient Master, giving you liberties and letting you practice your art in the comfort of our own home, and yet here you are, spitting on my generosity.”

“I just followed your orders, Master.”

“Oh no, no, no,” he clicked his tongue. “I ordered you to kill this man, and I had to do it myself, because you decided to play with your food.”

“It’s not my fault you’re an impatient bastard,” she spat out, defying his gaze.

His eyes turned a darker shade of red and Malva knew she had pushed him to his limit.

“That’s it. I’ve had it with you.”

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a leash he clipped to the back of her collar before yanking on it, sending her to the floor.

“I think you’re long overdue for a corrective measure, don’t you think, my dear?”

She pulled back against it, pointing towards the remains of the lord she had lured away, “What about my drink? Are you really gonna make me starve?”

“I don’t think you deserve it, frankly,” he sneered.

“Gods, I hate you.”

“Now, now, where are you manners, dear? This isn’t how I trained you, is it?” He pulled her up, grabbing her by her throat. “Is it?”

She hissed through her teeth, “I’m not yours to tame.”

“Let’s see about that.”

He walked her to the nearest chair and bent her over his lap, keeping a tight hold on his leash to have her stand upright.

“Now,” he lifted her dress to reveal her bare ass, “I will give you a slap for each victim you have claimed within these walls.”

As she opened her mouth to speak up he gave another yank on her leash, silencing her. “Don’t you worry, I am a merciful Master; we’ll keep it to the number of souls you’ve claimed just this year. Twenty, was it?”

She tried to turn around to contest his claim, only to be met with a first slap on her ass.

“However, any other words you utter will count as an additional slap, understood?”

“Fuck you.”

Another slap, stronger this time, made her yelp.

“Twenty two, then.”

She gritted her teeth, debating on her next comment.

Slap. “Cat got your tongue, my sweet?” Slap. “Please, I would love to know what you think of me now—” Slap.

She cried, the sting spreading to her thighs.

“Do you still hate me?” Slap. “Do you fucking loathe me?” Slap. “Answer.” Slap.

“Yes!” She shouted. “Yes I do, fuck!”

“In that case, let’s make this more interesting; any sound coming from you will warrant an additional gift from my hand, hm?” Slap. “How’s that sound, darling?” Slap.

She yelped once more, the burning sensation of his palm against her taking her by surprise.

“One more, then.” Slap.

She bit her lip, silencing her moans.

“That’s better.” Slap. “See how pretty you look on my lap?” Slap. “With your cheeks all red and your pussy all wet?” Slap. “Wet from me punishing you—” Slap. “ — like the little brat you are?” Slap.

“Would this be as fun if I didn’t have control over you, pup?” Slap. “Do you see how silly of you it is to desire anything more than I already have offered you?” Slap. “Don’t you love to be my little whore to put on display?” Slap.

Tears swelled to the corner of her eyes and her fists balled up, nails digging into the soft of her flesh as she held back the cries stuck in her throat.

“You’re doing so good for me, so incredibly well, my love.” Slap. “And look at you, not making any sound at all.” Slap. “Such an obedient little consort, all mine.” Slap.

“Last one now, are you ready? You can speak.”

She breathed hard, taking a moment to utter an answer, “Yes.”

He landed the last slap, harder than all the previous ones, and leaned in to whisper into her ear.

“Say ‘thank you Sir for my punishment’,” he rubbed her ass, bright red from his abuse.

Her mascara ran down her face, mixing in with the dry blood from the corpse laying not too far away.

“Thank you, Sir… for my punishment,” her voice was small and quiet, tamed.

“Now,” he easily dipped two fingers into her drenched pussy. “Do you think you’re ready for your reward, pup?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Get up, and remove my pants.”

Her shaky legs made it hard to stand up, but she followed his orders nonetheless. Removing his trousers, she set his raging erection free, veins popping out and already leaking from his arousal; the sight was both terrifying and incredibly exciting.

“Lift your dress back up and sit on my cock. You’re going to take all my come inside of you, and then we’ll go back to the party, understand? I want everyone to smell me on you. We can’t have people doubting my ownership after seeing you walk away with another man, can we?”

She nodded and did as he asked, straddling him with her hips lowering themselves onto his shaft with ease, and finally allowing herself to moan as she felt his length filling her up.

“Fuuuuuck,” he sank his nails into her hips, pushing her deeper. “You’re perfect my love, so perfect. Keep going for me, you’re doing amazing.”

The echo of their thighs slapping against each other faded with the sounds of pleasure from the neighbouring rooms, and Astarion wanted theirs to be louder.

His thumb found its way over her clit, pushing her closer to the edge as he rubbed circles around it, striking every nerve in her. Her hands grabbed onto the armrests, holding on for dear life as the stimulation became too much and her moans grew louder with each thrust.

“Come on, pet. If you come around my cock I’ll give you a little treat. You love treats, don’t you?” She nodded, words failing her. “Good, now make your Master proud, come for me, and scream as loud as you can.”

When she cried out from her earth shattering climax, it's as if the rest of the world paused around them, and it was only her and him, lost in one another. Every touch, every thrust, was all too much, pleasure blending in with pain as Astarion kept pounding into her.

The sight of Malva losing herself on his lap was almost enough for him to implode, she was only missing a single thing.

“Are you thirsty, my dear?”

She nodded, tears rolling down her defiled cheeks.

“Come here,” he pulled the collar of his shirt aside, giving her an opening. “Drink.”

Without losing another second, she bit down into his exposed neck, and she drank. She drank like he was the oasis in the middle of a desert; parched and ravenous from her stolen meal from earlier, exhausted by how he had used her body.

He grabbed the base of her scalp and pulled her away from him, making sure she didn’t drink too much. He could only allow enough that would satiate her thirst without freeing her from him.

With his forehead pressing against hers, he groaned, ”Say that you're mine. Say that you love me.”

“I… love you,” her voice trembled.

“Mhmh, that’s right, my sweet. That’s right.”

Whether she knew it or not, ever since he made her his, he guided this dance. Everything she did was carefully thought through by him, knowing exactly how she would react every step of the way. He was the one pulling her in, like a pet on a leash. His pet.

And no matter how much she wanted more power, she couldn’t deny that the pull of his control felt delicious against her neck.

“Now, let's try this again, pup. Who owns you?”

“Y- You.”

He pulled the leash backwards, “Who?”

“You, Master.”

“That's right little love, you're all mine. Even if your dark, stubborn heart thinks it hates me, even if you don't see it, even if you try to deny it, deep down, you love me, because you know I am everything you need.” He breathed hard into her ear, “I’m the only one who understands you, the only one who could truly love you the way you deserve it.”

With one last push of his hips, he came roaring inside of her, filling her to the brim with his thick ropes of warm come. His hands over her waist held her tightly around him, making sure her womb would take every drop of him.

He enraptured her lips with his, kissing her fervently to taste himself on her mouth. When he finally pulled back, they were both panting, “Was I too harsh, love?”

She shook her head, her eyes half-lidded still dizzy from her unbecoming, “No, you were perfect, Astarion.”

It was rare that she used his name, but he allowed it in moments of intimacy like this one. The sound of his name rolled deliciously on her tongue, it was as much a reward for her to say it as it was for him to hear it.

He lifted her to her feet, pulling down her dress to give her a minimum of decency before putting his pants back up, straightening his jacket, and replacing his hair to appear as graceful as he was before taming his consort.

She smiled, linking her arm with his as they walked back to the ballroom, completely enamoured, “I love you, my Lord.”

He smiled back, giving her a quick peck on her cheek, “I love you too, my sweet.”

Was it love? She doesn't know for sure. Maybe some twisted version of it.

Was it passion, in its most depraved and unhinged state, an obsession for one another that would leave this city in ruins?

Most definitely.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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