#it’s filled with so much dread :D

[entrancedsnow70]

“His home would not fall.”

*reads cover of the book titled Halo: Fall of Reach*

You sure about that, Chief?

[qlossytbh]

𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 so what if instead of JJ you were the one who kept emilys identity a secret and spencer is giving you the cold shoulder.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mentions spoilers for 6x18, spoilers for 7x2, mentions of drugs, mentions of addiction, very brief mentions of consuming alcohol to cope, fighting, pining, angst :(, but then fluff :D, not proofread

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i had this idea while watching szn 7 and i got carried away lol

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Spence,” You called, following hot on his trail, frustration welling up in every single fiber of your body. “Spence, look, can we talk about this?”

Spencer had been giving you the cold shoulder throughout the whole day. Dismissing you cruelly, brushing off your every input in the case— you knew you deserved it, if you were being completely honest.

It was only a matter of time before the team found out that you had covered up Emily’s whereabouts, and you knew they had a right to be mad but the only person who was still mad at you was Spencer. The one person you didn’t want mad at you.

Hell even Derek was willing to talk to you and hear you out, but Spencer— God.

And it wasn’t even like he was taking it out on Hotch as well. He was just getting a hit at you and you were growing impatient because he refused to talk about it, just like he was now.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” He responded contemptuously. You held yourself back from groaning, you placed an angry hand on your hip and faced him.

“You’re angry and disappointed— I get it,” He scoffed, low enough for you to almost miss it but you didn’t. You watched him, completely baffled as he continued grappling at his files. “With the way we handled Emily we—“

He whipped around, nearly bumping into you. You stumbled back momentarily, taken aback by his hostility. “Listen, I have a lot going on, all right?”

“What? Spencer—“ He was halfway out the door, before your stuttering words stopped him in his tracks. He turned on his heels, facing you with the coldest expression you’ve ever seen him wear around you.

You and Spencer never fought. Like ever.

“You know what I think it is?” You started.

“What?” He responded, in a way that made it seem like he was testing you. Like he was warning you not to push him past his limits.

“You’re pissed that me and Hotch were able to control our micro-expressions in the waiting room that night and you weren’t able to detect our deceit.” Spencer looked away, seemingly not being able to face you.

You had definitely gone far, but the exasperation was driving you off the wall and you weren’t beginning to think straight.

Maybe it was the desperation to just be okay with him. Just the thought of this lasting more than a week filled you with dread, you felt helpless.

“You think this is because of my profiling skills?” Disbelief filled his voice and for the millionth time in these twenty four hours, you felt shame. You opened your mouth to continue but he cut you off by saying your full name— Not the nickname he usually called you.

He said it harshly and full of condescension. “Listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perception is because I trusted you— I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

You looked down, guilt ripping at every single fiber inside of you. You knew it wasn’t okay, and you felt horrible for the repercussions your secret inflicted on the team. It was gut wrenching, to hold someone you loved so much while he violently sobbed with grief and not be able to tell him the truth, not being able to protect him from the pain you swore you’d always shield him from.

But you did it to protect Emily and to protect them. And Spencer didn’t need to understand it, he was allowed to be pissed, but god forbid he talked to you about that anger. Instead he just let it bundle up until he was ready to rub it in your face.

“I couldn’t,” Your voice was unstable.

“You couldn’t? Or you wouldn’t?” There was that goddamn derisive tone again.

“No, I couldn’t!” You seethed, eyes beginning to burn with tears.

It wasn’t logical that you end up crying, and you didn’t want anyone— much less Spencer, to notice he had that effect on you. But he was your friend and he was being cruel.

“What if I started taking dilaudid again, would you have let me?”

You clamped your mouth shut, eyes widening slightly. The tears just began getting harder to blink away, mind flashing images and memories back to when Spencer was struggling with Dilaudid.

“You didn’t.” You weren’t sure if you were saying that to convince yourself or even ease yourself from the thought of the possibility that Spencer had relapsed. It was feeling harder to breathe.

“Yeah, but I thought about it,” He said finally.

No one, not Derek, not JJ— No one, had been by Spencer’s side when he was struggling with his addiction. As his best friend, the second you caught on to him, you encouraged him to get the help he needed and you held his hand every step of the way.

So how dare he throw that into your face right now, as if the consequences of your decision may have led him to potentially relapse. How he made it seem like his suffering was your fault.

For some reason you couldn’t help thinking that in a certain way, it was. And that killed you.

“That isn’t fair,” You whispered, trying to swallow down the tears that were causing your throat to close up.

“You’re not exactly allowed to talk to me about fair,” Spencer turned, giving you one last glance before turning and leaving the room. You stood there, frustration and tears heavy on your trail.

“Reid,” Prentiss called out, to which he completely ignored, waltzing past her without a second glance. The whole team looked over at him and then turned to you.

You sucked in a shaky breath through your nose, trying to prevent yourself from crying. The tears welling in your eyes were completely rooted by all types of anger.

You rushed out of the room and past the team, heading in the opposite direction that Spencer had stormed off to, desperately needing a minute to breath.

“But careful not to burn the onions,” Hotch inquired, keeping his gaze on the pan.

“Bravo Aaron!” Rossi exclaimed. You let out a low huff of amusement, rolling your eyes at your two co-workers.

Hotch had suggested hosting a dinner party where Rossi teaches the group how to cook like a ‘true Italian’. It was a bonding experience he thought would benefit the team.

Everyone was watching Rossi as he cooked his infamous Carbonara recipe, laying out all the essential steps and rules of a true pasta dish recipe. A glass of wine sat temptingly in front of you, but you knew that if you were to lay a single hand on it, Rossi would rip said hands off your body.

You really needed that drink though.

Once the jet landed after solving the case today, Emily came up to talk to you, mainly just to ask how you were holding up. You told her that you were fine, but she clearly gave you zero satisfaction in believing your white lie.

You were not fine, because since your fight with Spencer you hadn’t talked to him all day. Not during the case, not after it— Not even on the jet ride home, which is when you and Spencer would usually sit together to play poker or to read a book together.

Your mind had been running its gears near exhaustion, both worried and incredibly frustrated with him. It was when Emily informed you that she wasn’t entirely sure if Spencer was going to make an appearance tonight when you realized that you may have potentially ruined one of your most valued relationships.

So yeah, halfway through cooking dinner and no sign of Spencer. You needed that glass of wine— maybe even three more.

The sound of the doorbell ringing busted you from your thoughts. You turned to look at the door. When you looked at Emily she was just as confused as you were, shooting a perplexed shrug your way. Rossi glanced over at the door, before Derek stood. “I got it,”

“Grazie Mille!” JJ reached for her glass beside you before Rossi scolded her profusely.

“Should’ve given you a heads up,” You whispered, resting your forearms on the marble in front of you.

Rossi continued, blabbering passionately about pasta and the true art behind it. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar fondness nestle in your chest. It had been a while since everyone had come together like this. You missed it, but you couldn’t help but feel like there was still something off.

Probably because there was.

“It’s all about timing and rhythm,” He said, hands working on the pasta in front of him. You watched curiously, pursing your lips in concentration. “And if you don’t feel yourself doing it properly, please, order a pizza.”

You laughed softly, not feeling it quite reach your eyes as they fell down to the marble counter. “Sorry I’m late,”

You turned around, straightening your back to see Spencer making his appearance in Rossi’s kitchen. Your mouth hung open, just barely, and you could practically feel your breath hitch into the back of your throat, when he smiled widely.

He walked up to the counter, standing in between you and Emily. The two of you made eye contact and he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it shut, not entirely sure what to say— much less to you. Your eyes nervously left his, cheeks beginning to buzz with heat as Rossi continued explaining how this whole cooking dynamic was going to work.

You hadn’t mentally prepared yourself to see him tonight since Emily said that he was possibly not going to make it. But you weren’t about to deny how happy it made you to see him, and to have him close to you— even if he was angry.

About fifteen minutes and a wine glass later, you stood next to the stove, eyeing the pancetta and onions that sizzled away with another glass of wine in your hand, swirling the dark liquid around.

“The onions are starting to burn,” A voice beside you said. You snapped out of your trail of thoughts, turning to see Spencer making his way towards you, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

His chin jutted towards the pan and you noticed that in fact the onions were beginning to burn. You cursed silently, hands fumbling between the wine glass and the wooden spoon. You quickly downed the remaining wine in your glass before setting it on the counter next to the stove and removing the pan from the heat, all in a mildly frenzied panic.

Spencer took an odd notice that you had consumed two glasses of wine in a span of 15 minutes.

“Don’t tell Rossi,” You groaned, mixing the crisp pancetta and onions around lamely. Spencer chuckled, taking a step closer to you.

You glanced up at him, and quickly averted your gaze back to the pan, blinking rapidly. Garcia and Morgan were laughing away as they chopped up some more parsley while JJ and Hotch were in charge of setting down the plates. Rossi and Prentiss were— drinking wine and chatting.

You were weirdly nervous and found yourself thinking of ways to get away from the situation at hand. “So uh— How are you?”

You bit back a spiteful reply, not wanting to make this worse. However, it was ironic that now he was the one wanting to talk and putting you in a position where you now wanted to give him the cold shoulder.

“Good,” You quipped, mixing the pancetta around. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on the back of his feet. “I thought you were ignoring me.”

It did no good to beat around the bush, and honestly bringing up the topic at hand filled you with less anxiety than whatever small talk the two of you were attempting to make. Spencer sighed heavily. Your brows were furrowed, eyes drilling holes into the crisping pancetta.

“Can we talk outside?” He muttered. You nodded, informing Emily and Rossi that the pancetta was done but you needed to head out for a bit.

“What you said back at the station,” You started, closing the door behind you. “Were you actually thinking about relapsing or were you saying that to get at me,”

His brows furrowed. “Wha— Yes! I wouldn’t ever use that to spite you,”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “It felt like that was the intention,”

“It wasn’t, I promise I—“ Spencer peered to his side. “I was really mad— I still kind of am,”

“Then let’s talk about it,” You exasperated, voice growing weak as you finally turned to face him. “We talk about it Spencer, you don’t give me the cold shoulder and then lash out on me when I try to talk about things.”

Spencer knew he could be harsh, especially when he was angry and especially when that anger was rooted by betrayal. He had a hard time opening up about what was going on inside of him constantly, but that wasn’t an excuse to lash out on you the way he did.

“Can I ask you something just to get it out of the way?” Spencer nodded immediately.

“Anything,”

“Why does your anger feel personal? Why aren’t you shutting Hotch out the way you’re doing with me?” Your eyes were mixed with layers of all sorts of complicated feelings

“Because it is personal Y/n,” You looked at Spencer. “You are my best friend, probably one of the most important people in my life and It makes me feel stupid having gone to your house crying countless nights when you knew this whole time that she was alive.”

“I feel like an idiot..!” You felt a pang of guilt. You never wanted Spencer feeling stupid for feeling anything.

“I know! I know—“

The room suddenly felt heavy and you wish the back of your eyes weren’t burning the way they currently were. You really wanted this to be a good night.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me Spence,” You closed your eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m not expecting this to be fine immediately, because whether or not my lie has justification, it was still a lie and I’m sorry,”

His eyes scanned yours slowly, both of your faces etched with regret. “I’m sorry for lying,”

“I really wish I could say I shouldn’t have done it, but I truly didn’t have another choice,” Spencer watched you dig your teeth into the plump flesh of your lower lip.

“Yeah,” He sighed in defeat. “I know,”

The two of you shifted in the uncomfortable silence, not knowing how else to act or what to say. You cleared your throat and looked up at him. “If you need some more time I get, just let me know,”

“No—“ Spencer shook his head instantly, looking down at you. “I really don’t want that.”

Spencer was miserable with the distance he put between you these past couple of days. It was hell to him, having felt so betrayed by someone he loved so deeply the way he loved you, but talking things out with you, it made things better. Not fixed, but better.

He reached out, grabbing your forearm and pulling you close to him. Your arms immediately flew around his neck, hands tangling into his hair while his arms wrapped themselves snugly around your waist. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relaxing against your body. He missed having you like this.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered. Spencer communicated back by giving you a tight squeeze and the two of you stood there, engulfed in each other's company for just a while longer.

When you pulled away, it was only a few inches, just enough for your hands to remain on his shoulder while his hands sat on the curve of your waist.

You watched him, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly standing up when you noticed his gaze flicker upon your lips. Your face burned and a million unconscious thoughts started barging into your head and—

“Reid! Y/N!” Derek shot from inside the house. You jumped, pulling away from Spencer and turning to the door.

“Uh—“ You pointed back. “We should, you know—“

“Y-Yeah!—“ Spencer squeaked, face turning red. “Yeah, uh, definitely— we definitely should—“

Yep, you definitely missed whatever this was.

[ode2rin]

warning: heavy angst | death

“did you notice any movement?” were the first words that escaped shoko's lips as she entered the room. she didn't spare a single glance for her friend, gojo satoru, who seemed to be spending every second of his life peppering kisses on your hand.

gojo muttered something under his breath, but shoko couldn't care any less to clarify as it was followed by a humorless chuckle from the white-haired. must be one of his antics, shoko thought.

with her back still turned to the couple and still preparing antibiotics, shoko continued, “are you sayin’ something? step aside, i have to check on them.”

“...ten fifty-four.” he whispers.

“what?”

“it's ten fifty-four.” gojo repeated, his tone now laced with a raw, undeniable heaviness. “you have to write that down, right?”

shoko froze.

the monitor. 

she’s not hearing any sound coming from the monitor. the oppressive stillness in the room bore witness to a harsh truth that shoko had failed to acknowledge.

slowly, she turned to face gojo, and the sight of him made her wish she never turned around.

in the sterile confines of this hospital room, amidst the delicate balance of life and death, even a seasoned doctor like her found it nearly impossible to discern who was more lifeless between you and gojo. 

he had his blindfold hanging around his neck, the dark fabric a stark contrast to the white-painted walls. his eyes remained fixed on your lifeless body, holding your right hand against his cheek as though he clung to it as the sole remnant of your presence.

gone was the once radiant luster that danced in his blue orbs. in their place, all that it houses was emptiness. his eyes were red-rimmed, on the precipice of tears, and his lips bore the stain of blood, as if he bit down with all his might to stifle the screams that clawed at his throat.

“it used to be the warmest place i’ve ever been. and now, it’s cold, shoko. it’s too cold,” gojo mindlessly muttered, and it didn’t take long for shoko to realize that he was referring to your hand resting against his cheek.

shoko felt her heart sink even deeper at his words. but she couldn't give up now; she had to try. she needed to say something, anything – because she had failed once before, and failing again was a fate she couldn't bear as a friend.

“they are with you, gojo. forever – they are with you. you are not alone,” shoko hurriedly assured him, her words a desperate attempt to offer comfort.

gojo responded with a humorless chuckle, his grip on your lifeless hand gentle as he kissed your fingers one by one. then, he turned to his friend, his eyes devoid of the spark of life.

“look at me, shoko,” his voice was devoid of emotion, as if he had given up on the very idea of feeling. “ this is the second time you and i are here. so, what does this make me if not finally alone?”

as gojo's words hung heavily in the air, shoko found herself at a loss for how to respond. she turned her back and bit her lip as she reached for that chart she dreads to fill out once again.

he’s right. shoko was there as much as she’s here. she remembers december 24th as much as she will remember 10:54 am.

and most of all, shoko will forever remember how cruel fate is to bring gojo and her to this moment once again — with him at the bedside and her tasked with recording yet another time of death.

note. don't mind me posting an old draft bec i'm happy rn !!!!!! i won the election so here's a lil somthing inspired from that one grey's scene :D will get back to all of you soonest !!

[jobean12-blog]

His to Keep

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 3,626

Summary: You've been working for Bucky for almost a year and although you know there's so much more to him than just owning the club, you can't help but be drawn to him as he's drawn to you.

Author's Note: Just more mob!Bucky because I love him so! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: light mentions of v-i-olen-c-e and angst, but mostly sweetness and softness, tension and flirting, and d-o-m and obse-ssi-ve Bucky.

The piercing shot rings out, and before the echoing sound even dies, Bucky’s running. Your high-pitched scream pierces the air and he silently prays for your safety, his long legs moving so fast time seems suspended.

When he reaches the hallway, there’s a small group of employees gathered by the doorway, their expression filled with shock and horror.

They part without question as he approaches, rushing into the room and ignoring the violence that so blatantly fills it. His blue eyes search for you and finally his heart starts beating again when he sees you unharmed.

You’re crouched in the corner, eyes wide with terror as you take in the slumped over man in the chair, his tailored and expensive suit now stained red.  

Bucky’s men immediately follow his orders to handle the situation but his attention never leaves you.

With slow steps he approaches you, holding his hands out and speaking your name softly. When your eyes lock with his the first tear slides down your cheek and he nearly crumbles to his knees, his heart shattering.

He gathers you into his arms with such a gentle grace, as if you’ll break and ushers you toward his office. With a nudge of his toe he opens the door and sets you down in his large leather chair. Carefully he takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over you, tucking it above your shoulders.

His eyes are laser focused on you as he fills a crystal glass with whiskey and forces it into your shaky hand.

“Drink this.”

You glance at it unseeingly, lost in your head, replaying what you just witnessed over and over.

He lifts the glass with a gentle touch and when it reaches your lips you drink reflexively. He waits until you finish all of it.

Taking a silk handkerchief out of his breast pocket, he kneels down in front of you, his hands moving with slow trepidation, but still you try to intercept it.

“Let me,” he orders. “Please doll.”

The second set of words come out softer and your hands fall to your lap.

He cleans your face of tears, his touch delicate and reverent and you can feel his warm breath fan your cheek as his thumb chases a stray tear that slips toward your mouth.

“Doll,” he whispers roughly, emotion clogging his voice.

Your wet lashes lift and you meet his eyes, your breath catching at what you see. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable. His usual façade of unrivaled power and unrelenting dominance gone, replaced by a haunting look of dread.

“James?”

At the sound of his name on your lips his jaw clenches, his controlled restraint slowly slipping away with his mask and every moment he spends so close to you. He needs you to feel you. Your warm and soft skin, your pulsing heartbeat, your lips, every curve…

But he would never take advantage of you, especially after what just happened.

“Let me take you home.”

You nod and easily fall into his embrace, resting your head against his chest as he escorts you toward the exit.

When your soft sheet hits your shoulder you sigh, snuggling closer to your pillow as Bucky tucks you in. You had argued lightly when he told you to shower but now that you’re warm and clean you feel marginally better.

He pauses at the door as you fall asleep, knowing he can’t leave you here alone, instead sinking into your make up chair in the corner of the room, watching vigilantly as you succumb to slumber.

A week later you’re determined to leave your house, wanting to get back to work, even if it means facing the demons of that night. And you want to see him again. You’ve missed him, even though you know he’s never very far away.

He watches from his hidden vantage point as you close your car door and start the engine. He doesn’t need the GPS tracker he had installed on your car to tell him where you’re headed, but he turns it on anyway.

His own car starts, black and sleek in a nondescript way. He easily catches up to you, maintaining a safe distance behind you so you don’t notice him.

He phones Steve who’s working the back door of the club. “She’ll be arriving soon. Escort her in.”

Steve makes a small sound of acknowledgement and hangs up, promptly moving outside to wait for you.

Once Bucky is satisfied Steve has you covered he makes a sharp turn off the main road and takes the back streets toward his club. He needs to be there before you. Ready and waiting.

Before you even turn your car off, Steve is at the door, opening it and guarding you with his body.

In his office, Bucky waits, checking the crowd through the one-way glass that overlooks the floor. Security has been upgraded, covering every inch of his club to ensure nothing like what happened last week ever happens again.

Everything in the club looks to be running smoothly…not that he would have it any other way. All his endeavors are done with the utmost care and cunning precision. He wouldn’t be able to run this club any other way let alone the whole damn city.

He scans the floor until his eyes land on you and as if you can feel his gaze, your eyes glance up to the window where you know he’s standing.

The connection that’s been growing between you two for the past year has only been solidified since the unfortunate event that took place last week. He knew in that moment that he would do anything for you. Die to protect you.

Since the instant you walked into his club to apply for the job as manager he knew you were special. And having you work for him has been the sweetest torture. Day after day he watches you excel at your job, handle everything thrown your way with ease and professionalism, even the scummy clientele that try to lay hands on you.

No one touches what belongs to him and only the ones that don’t know who he is try. But they soon find out how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Steve alerts Bucky that you’re on your way up to his office.

The knock on his office door makes his heart skip a beat and even though he’s dressed impeccably he smooths his hand down his chest, adjusting his tie in the process.

“Come in.”

You crack the door open and peek in.

“Hi James. Steve said I could come up?”

At your questioning tone, Bucky smiles.

“You never have to ask to see me doll. You’re welcome to anytime.”

You smile softly and walk in, shutting the door behind you. With a slow saunter you move toward his desk and perch yourself on the edge near his chair.

He finds it hard to concentrate the moment you’re close. Even though you try to keep a cool demeanor, your body is inviting in its posture and your eyes devour every inch of him.

“Thank you for seeing me James,” you start. “I wanted to…”

Before you can finish he leans closer, a gentle interruption with his consuming presence.  “First of all, call me Bucky. I’m only James to everyone else. And as I said before, I would love to see you anytime you want doll.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning toward him as if you’re pulled by some invisible string. “That’s actually why I’m here. I wanted to thank you.”

“For?” he asks, his eyebrows raised as a small smile pulls at his lips.

Your eyes drop to his mouth before your lips part to speak again.

“Taking such good care of me last week and rescuing me.”

“I hardly rescued you doll. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in that situation and the fact that I wasn’t there to protect you will haunt me forever. I never wanted you to see this side of my…business.”

You pull your gaze away from his mouth and study his face. He’s beautiful. His large blue eyes framed by dark and long lashes and his perfectly shaped jaw surrounding a mouth with lips you dream about tasting.

“It’s ok…”

“No.” he says, his tone harsh.

His face crumples when he sees your eyes widen at his gruffness.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly recovers. “That’s not meant to be toward you…if anything had happened to you…”

You tentatively reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing over the dark stubble that lines it.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know you would never hurt me.”

His eyes are locked on yours, the tension between you palpable. You unconsciously trace your lips with your tongue, drawing his attention. He moves closer, closing the distance and resting his elbows on his spread thighs.

“Anything you want from me. Anything at all. You need but to ask and it’s yours.”

“Jame…Bucky, thank you.”

He visibly preens when you say ‘Bucky,’ and it makes you smile, triumph alight in your eyes.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do…?” you ask, looking at him from under your lashes.

“Nothing. You’re perfect. However, I’d like to ask you something.”

His words peek your interest and you inch closer, knowing after today there’s no turning back from this. From him.

“Dinner. I want you to have dinner with me doll.”

“That wasn’t a question,” you say teasingly, even as you drag your teeth over your bottom lip. “More of an order.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he winks. “Either way, I think your answer is going to be yes.”

“Like a date?” you question, your grin widening.

“Yes. A date.”

“What will everyone else say when they find out you’re dating your employee?”

Your question has his features hardening ever so slightly, but not at you.

“No one will say a word about it. I can assure you of that.”

You audibly swallow as you take him in, focusing on the way you feel about him, not what he’s capable of.

“I’d love to have dinner with you Bucky.”

He visibly relaxes and a genuine smile graces his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes in such an endearing way you nearly swoon off the desk.

“Good. Then let’s eat.”

You giggle. “Now? I thought you meant you were going to pick me up, you know, I’d get all dressed and then you take me out.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to give you time to reconsider.”

Reluctantly, but with a smirk, he pushes on his heels and rolls his chair away from you, grabbing his cell. He orders a spread of food from one of his restaurants, then sits back down.

“Sit,” he says, motioning to the chair across from him.

When you do he slides closer, framing you with his spread legs and caging you in with his thighs.

“So now that this is dinner, tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”

“Hmm,” you muse, tapping your chin.

You fall into easy and comfortable conversation, sharing more about your past. Bucky listens intently, hanging on to every word and prodding gently with well thought out questions.

A knock at the door surprises you both and you can see Bucky’s body tense. He was so immersed in you he lost sight of any possible dangers, forgetting his surroundings. He mentally berates himself, tucking that away and vowing to be more mindful, if only to keep you safe.

Thankfully, it’s only the dinner delivery.

He takes the food and moves to the casual seating area of his office, placing the food down on the coffee table. You follow him and sit on the floor.

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your form before he follows suit with a light shrug.

“Have you ever sat on the floor to eat dinner?” you ask playfully.

“Not that I recall,” he answers, serving you food.

You both laugh and dig into the delicious dinner.

After your impromptu dinner date you and Bucky continue to dance around each other at work.  The connection is strong, the pull between you taut with intense heat and longing. You can always feel his presence, his eyes on you, but it’s not uncomfortable at all, in fact, it makes you feel safe.

Later that week as you’re leaving your yoga class you feel someone following you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end but when you hear the instructor’s familiar voice you relax slightly and turn to say hello.

“Hi Matt.”

He greets you warmly and falls into step next to you as you walk toward your cars. The conversation is light at first but then he starts to complain about his girlfriend and how their relationship is failing. You begin to feel uncomfortable and as if sensing it, Matt drops his head.

“I’m sorry. Enough of my drama. I just need to move on I think.”

You take that as your cue to leave and start to say your goodbye but he keeps talking, chasing after you as you move toward your car.

“Hey, how is work going?”

“Uh..good, really good, thanks.”

Matt continues firing questions at you and your eyes dart around the darkened parking lot, quietly searching for Steve or one of Bucky’s other men.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Matt says, the words pulling your from your spiraling thoughts.

You step back to gain space and before you can answer, there’s a loud clanging noise as the door of the gym next door slams shut.

A big and broad silhouette comes into view and both you and Matt automatically look over.

Steve’s large frame moves closer and you sigh in relief.

“Hey Steve,” you chime, taking a step toward him.

Steve respectfully keeps his distance while also always keeping you protected.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks as he glares at Matt.

“Yes,” you answer, waving at Matt.

Matt blinks several times, clearly confused at Steve’s arrival but grudgingly says his goodbye and shuffles off to his car.

“I was looking for you Steve,” you say once Matt is out of ear shot.

“I’m sorry it took me longer than usual. I was on a call,” he apologies.

“It’s ok,” you say with a soft pat to his shoulder. “Just glad you’re here.”

“I always am.”

When you look at him with curious eyes his own go wide. “Well…not always of course. Bucky would have my head, but I just meant…”

You throw your head back with laughter. “I know Steve. The first few months I thought I was just crazy but when I realized it was just you trailing me and keeping me safe I felt better.”

Steve gives you a more relaxed smile and opens your car door.

“Um Steve,” you say softly as you sit. “Do you think maybe…we could keep this just between us? Matt’s not really a bad guy. I think he’s just having a rough time. I’m sure everything would have been just fine.”

Steve’s mouth turns down in a frown. “You know I can’t do that.”

With a sigh you reply, “I knew you were going to say that.”

Steve’s lips lift into a wry smile. “When it comes to his girl he wants to know everything.”

“Is that so?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “Should I start keeping a diary so I can report in every second of every day.”

“Well, you probably don’t need to go that far, but…”

Your lips purse but when you see his expression morph into one of sheepishness for the second time that night you decide to let it go and take it up with Bucky himself.

Back home, Steve walks you to your door.

“Do you want to come in? Need a snack or drink?” you ask.

He doesn’t take a single step closer and shakes his head once.

“He’s on his way now.”

“Bucky’s on his way?” you squeak. “Shit. I need to change and tidy up!”

At your use of ‘Bucky’ Steve genuinely grins. The action catches you off guard but you realize that Bucky wasn’t lying when he said no one calls him that but you. With another flurry of thanks and goodnights you bid farewell to Steve, even though you know he’ll just be sitting outside in his SUV until Bucky arrives.

You prepare for your shower, determined to keep your head once he gets there and get some definitive answers from him.

At his knock, you open the door with a tentative smile.

“Doll face,” he greets, his voice deep and intense.

“Bucky,” you echo. “Would you like to come in.”

“Please,” he answers and brushes past you.

Just the delicate touch of his hand as he walks by sends goosebumps skittering across your skin.

“I’m sure you already know about what Steve did tonight,” you say as you walk into your living room.

“Of course,” he answers.

You look over your shoulder and narrow your eyes.

“Want something to drink?”

“Do you have whiskey?” he asks.

“No whiskey, just red or white wine and water. Take it or leave it.”

At your sassy tone his eyebrows raise every so slightly.

“Water is fine, thank you. And want to tell me what that sassiness is about.”

After you get two glasses of water you sit on the couch across from him, leveling him with your best glare.

“How long have you had Steve following me?” you ask him.

“You’re very observant,” he states.

“That’s not an answer,” you continue with sass. “And I’ve been paying attention. You know I have. But mostly to you.”

Your confession satisfies him. You can see it in the way he lifts his chin and his eyes glitter.

“I want you to fill me in Bucky.”

“On?” he asks as his arm falls over the back of the couch and his fingers ghost over your shoulder, mostly bare in your thin tank top.

“Bucky.”

You mean it to come out more demanding, but it’s breathy and your body shivers at his touch.

“Are you sure? You were pretty freaked out by what you learned last time you got a glimpse behind my curtain. And rightfully so.”

“Tell me. I trust you and I want to give us a chance.”

He takes a deep breath and shares as much as he can without putting you in any more danger.

“Why do all of this though? Do you have men following everyone that works for you? Why did Steve call me your girl?”

“Two of these questions have the same answer. From the moment I saw you I wanted you to be mine and after the incident earlier this month and I almost lost you, it became an overwhelming feeling.”

His fingers press into your skin as he glides them down your arm.

“And no. I don’t have men on anyone else that works for me. I keep them safe of course. But just you. Always you.”

His hand leaves your arm and he strokes his thumb along your jaw. You lean into his touch and sigh out his name.

“I’ve been patient,” he murmurs. “Fuck doll, I’ve been so patient.”

He presses the pad of his finger to your lips, tracing their softness.

“But with every breath I take, I think of you. Every beat of my heart, I want you.”

The moment stretches in sweet torture before you place a hand on his cheek.

“I want you t…”

Before the words are fully out of your mouth he’s on you, dragging you into his lap and grinding his hips up as he grabs the back of your neck and steals your breath.

You press closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you lightly scratch your nails over his scalp before your hands fall to his chest and you start to tug at his tie.

Your lips leave his and you trail kisses along his jaw, stopping just below his ear before tracing the muscular column of his neck.

He hisses out a curse and tightens his grip. You smile into his skin and loosen his tie. You’ve barely gotten it undone when his large hand lands on your ass cheek. The sting makes you moan and rock your hips but in a flash your eyes are on his, your chin caught between his thumb and forefinger.

You take in his appearance as he stares at you. His usually pristine shirt now wrinkled, the buttons at the top hanging open and his loose tie dangling messily. His normally untouched hair is tousled, wild from your fingers and his control is clearly wavering with every heaving breath he takes.

You don’t waste another second and this time you kiss him, pressing your softness against every hard plane of his body, maximizing every bit of contact as you try to pin him to the back of the couch. You nibble into his bottom lip and then swallow the sound of his satisfied growl.

“Doll,” he starts, and you hear the questioning tone of his voice.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Fill me and make me yours.”

For a split second you see surprise flash across his features but he instantly recovers with a smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for his, how many times I’ve dreamed of you saying those words to me,” he murmurs, his body rigid with his restraint. “And remember, you asked for this. I’m going to give you everything.”  

His words are a dark promise, one you hold onto with every fiber of your being.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

[jensettermandu]

six feet under - yu jimin

genre; smut, angst, hurt/comfort

pairing; karina x g!p reader

content; despite the title there's no character death (it's just for metaphors) , unhealthy relationship; lack of communication , difficulty dealing with acceptance/reality , unintentionally hurting e/o , smut; p in v :D , unprotected sex , top karina/service bottom reader , oral (reader giving) , slight breast play , some praising

synopsis; it had always been said that nothing stays the same, it had been said ever since they were little kids and that acceptance of it was important. it helped move forward because dwelling in a past that no longer existed did no one any good. to hang onto something that didn’t exist meant falling to the deepest parts of hell willingly because no matter how much it hurt it felt like it was worth it the second they looked back at what it used to be.

wc; 15.6k+

masterlist.

It had always been said that nothing stays the same, it had been said ever since they were little kids and that acceptance of it was important. It helped move forward because dwelling in a past that no longer existed did no one any good. To hang onto something that didn’t exist meant falling to the deepest parts of hell willingly because no matter how much it hurt it felt like it was worth it the second they looked back at what it used to be. 

The silence could almost be dreading, it was so loud that it vibrated through their ribcage. It was so loud with their thoughts that they had no clue what to do. Love could be so many things, couldn’t it? It also meant that love got mistaken a lot of times too. It could make a bed feel comfortable, one they would always want to be at the end of every night, but it would always feel cold with spaces bigger than the ocean even if they were just an inch away. 

At times it felt like acknowledging the damage would only damage the rest of the world too if it was brought up. It was for everyone’s best and they could silently try to fix the damage with minimum casualties around them.

They both fell blind and only realised that they forgot to do something about it when they were dragged out of the daydreams and brought back to reality. The daydream that was the past was what made Y/n look away from her monitor once her eyes fell on the time at the bottom corner. She slipped the headphones off of her head, loose bangs falling over her forehead as they no longer were held back by the gear and she turned the chair around. Her eyes fell on the bed that was empty despite it being 0:30 AM. 

Routines changed, but they stayed. 

It had become a game of avoiding the other to not bring up the actual problems. Y/n indulged in her video games the whole day so they could avoid even looking at each other. She hadn’t spared Jimin a single glance but was now looking at the empty bed with sentiment filling her veins heavily. She deeply inhaled, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen to air out the sadness and hang on to the hope of stitching the torn back together. 

It was harder than it looked though when she had no clue how to put together a world that had been caught in a landslide and pulled them apart. It was all drifting apart, burning bridges they couldn’t stop imagining still existed. All they did was stand and look at it happening because there was nothing that they could do about these new feelings. 

She placed the headset onto the desk and reached over to the power button on the PC, her index finger coming in contact with it. Y/n pressed it and still deep in lamentful thoughts she held it for a while longer than needed before letting go. 

Just as she stood up the door opened and her tired eyes landed on Jimin whose gaze immediately was drawn to Y/n despite how far away they were. It was time to let go, but all that heaviness caused by the thoughts of finally mending their worlds and leaving the one they had built together in the past was hard to get rid of. There were so many reasons that told them to let go, but so many that told them to stay because of what once was their everything. 

“I just have to take a quick shower.” Jimin nodded at that as she stepped inside the room, leaving the door ajar as she knew what it meant. It was too cold to fall asleep beside each other on the bed, it was too uncertain of what they should do in the familiar sheets. It was easier to fall asleep alone, but it was difficult to sleep fully through the night if they weren’t both in bed at the same time. 

It had become a routine of leaving to let the other fall asleep before getting in bed too. The shower felt agonising, unsure if she had been in there long enough or if she should stay and continue to ponder. Everything around them still felt the same, but on the inside everything was different. Was it because of how suddenly it had happened? Was it because it was scary to let go of something that used to be all their comfort, scared that it was their only comfort after being it for so long? Was it because of how much they still had for each other? 

What if they got lost and became wanderers once they would let go of each other and would end up walking life without a goal to reach?

The shower felt like the only place where she could ponder now since it felt like it was too much to cry in front of each other. That would mean that they would have to talk about what was wrong and what they had to do, to do the things they weren’t ready for. The past felt so worth holding onto despite the feelings of the future never looking like they imagined. 

It was like every other time when Y/n walked back to the room, she quietly opened it, stepping inside the warmth and the comforting scent of Jimin that lingered in the air. Was it because all these things still brought her warmth and comfort? Her eyes landed on the bed that wasn’t empty this time, but would still feel cold once she settled in it. Never did they do it intentionally, but it had started happening at some point and there was nothing they could do to stop it. 

She couldn’t just not care, she always did and always would as she threw her black hoodie onto the backrest of the swivel chair she had been sitting in earlier. It merely made a sound when it landed on the chair and she walked a few small steps over to the edge of the bed where Jimin was lying. 

It had become a new routine to just stare at Jimin from a distance while trying to figure out what exactly was wrong between them. She had always adored the girl whether with words or just by looking at her from across a room, but this was different despite the adoration. This always made her eyes look a certain way, a way that whenever Jimin caught Y/n looking at her she could tell what she was thinking and Jimin found herself leaving to wipe away her tears. 

So Y/n was crouched down right by Jimin who was asleep on the bed, her head tilting as a small frown adorned her features in thought. The longer she thought the more it all felt like a pipe dream as her eyes lingered on the girl's soft features Y/n adored. The white duvet pulled up to her chin and the younger reached over to Jimin, gently grazing her fingers over the tender skin. Nothing about it had changed, it still felt as good as it always had under her fingertips. 

She pushed back some of the loose strands away from the sleeping girl’s face before she pulled her hand away fully, scared that she would wake her up, that Jimin would pull away from her touch, that they would both freeze and then go back to pretending. 

Y/n sighed at the feelings she couldn’t decipher anymore and her forehead rested on the edge of the bed for a few seconds as she closed her eyes tightly. Her fists clenched and so did her jaw to shut out everything, the landslide wiped away from her mind, the future too, the past stayed as she fished for the answers from the burning bridge. She was utterly confused, she was so lost in that field where everything had burned to the ground. 

Where did it all go? When did it all disappear?

She deeply inhaled and raised her head, shakily letting out her breath, doing it slowly to not wake Jimin up. Her fingers peeled at the cover, the small bear coming into view that Jimin was hugging–it was Y/n’s childhood plushie, but the comfort that it had held once had been transferred to Jimin. She had no clue if Jimin had transferred it further or if she still held onto it. It felt too cold at times, but they were still hanging on to the daydream.

“Goodnight, angel.” Her fists gripped onto the sheets as she left a ghost-like peck against Jimin’s soft cheek while standing up before climbing carefully over the girl to lie down by the wall. Y/n got under the duvet and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling that was empty while her head raced with thoughts that would make falling asleep so much harder. The itch to hold each other, but the fear of it not feeling the same anymore kept them at a distance and so the ache grew, but the silence didn’t dissipate. It was loud enough to mask the sounds of the heartbreak. 

Jimin heaved a sigh, her eyes opening in the silent room, knowing that Y/n was lying just behind her, but she wasn’t able to feel her. The simple peck, the brush of fingers against her skin, the goodnight, the innocent pet name; all made her eyes burn hot in the freezing weather that the room was in. It made her stiffen up her lower lip to try and keep them at bay, clutching the little bear harder, burying her nose into its brown fuzzy fur. 

Each time she blinked her eyes its fur soaked up the tears, being the only witness of them, the only thing wiping them for her, holding her sorrows inside its small frame. She was afraid that it would overfill soon enough, that the bear would turn salty and bitter from her tears, and that it wouldn’t want to give her any more comfort because of that. She longed, but they flew apart and she couldn’t figure out what exactly she longed for as Jimin felt just as lost and confused about everything as Y/n was. 

Was it all broken or just bent? She had no clue, Jimin didn’t even know what exactly it was that was wrong. Or maybe she knew just what was wrong, but pretended that she didn’t?

It echoed in Y/n’s head after the alarm had gone off around 6 AM and she had turned it off–their last rehearsal before they were off to Tokyo, Japan. What their mornings used to look like kept replaying in her head, the sounds of them like an echo of silence now because they no longer happened. There was no room filled with giggles despite it being early at dawn or noon. No words that were sweet affection were exchanged between them. There was no holding each other, hugging, kissing, and just being there with each other, close and content.

Neither could remember the last time they had said an ‘I love you’ to each other. 

It used to be always in the mornings, before bed and throughout the day. 

It made Y/n exhale while turning to lay on her back as they slept with their backs turned to each other. She tiredly stared at the ceiling unable not to look over at Jimin whose back was still turned to her, it was like a big ice wall fell and blocked them off. ‘It’s fine’ kept repeating itself in Y/n’s head as she pursed her lips and grabbed her phone to see that the time still flew and didn’t wait for them. It did not wait and they were wasting time away from each other when they could be making it meaningful. 

The footsteps outside were heard now and Y/n knew that they didn’t have more time to sit and wallow in their sorrows of holding onto something that wasn’t there. 

“We have to start getting up.” The girl mumbled just to make sure that the first alarm had managed to wake up Jimin. It did for Y/n because she hadn’t been able to fall into a deep slumber because of all the thoughts.

It was harsh, it was like a strong tornado carrying all types of feelings in it came through the room and cut through Y/n’s skin. “I know, Y/n.” The softness was gone and Y/n bit her lower lip because despite it all they hadn’t been like two snakes around each other, ready to bite and leave venom any second. They hadn’t tried to make it sting more than it already did, but it seemed impossible to do for too long. 

The younger still caught the sweet scent of Jimin that made the moment slightly less bitter, reminding her of all the good times when she’d be drowned in the scent. The duvet was thrown off of Jimin who got up from the bed, grabbing the hoodie from the chair on her way and all she left behind was a whirlwind of unspoken emotions after leaving the door ajar when she walked out. 

Y/n grabbed the little bear that fell beside her and stared at it, looking for answers in the tears she knew that Jimin was shedding every night. She pretended that she didn’t hear it, that she was asleep, that she simply didn’t know that she was making the girl cry. It was easier that way and in the morning she would look at the bear and still get no answers. She couldn’t acknowledge her silent cries because they would have to do something about everything if she did. 

Practice went as usual, almost as usual for the two of them. They both wondered if the rest had noticed their lack of communication and how they occupied themselves with the others to not make eye contact by accident. If they did notice, it wasn’t like any of them would comment on it since Y/n and Jimin’s relationship wasn’t their business. 

It didn’t even seem to be Jimin and Y/n’s business anymore as neither of them spoke about it. 

Still half panting, Y/n sat on the couch with Minjeong as the two got engulfed in the Nintendo 3DS Y/n had brought with her. There was an emptiness that she hadn’t been able to grow used to, she had become so used to having someone always right next to her for the past three years. It wasn’t constant clinging to each other, but even the small things such as brushing their legs or glancing at each other. The loss of that made a void grow bigger each second and the only thing that would fill it was if things went back to how they used to be.

It made Y/n wonder if Jimin felt the same and so she glanced away from the game, her eyes landing on her girlfriend. She was so used to it so she wasn’t sure if it was Jimin specifically or just a habit that was hard to let go of now, all that affection. The girl was busy talking to Aeri and no matter what they were doing someone’s back was always turned to the other. Y/n’s hoodie-clad the girl’s upper body and Y/n tilted her head, thinking about how maybe that was what brought Jimin the comfort of having someone next to her, just the warmth and scent. 

Their confusion about the situation was what made it hard for them to get back to the intimacy they used to share.

The door opened and Ning walked in with their manager, catching everyone’s attention as it got noisier when they started to all converse while making it to the couch. However, Y/n looked back down at the 3DS to occupy her eyes with something for a few more seconds to not try to figure out where Jimin would sit this time. 

Aeri was about to sit on the wooden floor, her eyes seeing the lone spot left beside Y/n as Ning was already on the floor by Minjeong’s legs with her drink and one of the pastries. Jimin made sure to insist that she could take the spot, but it still left her in an awkward spot on the floor by Y/n’s legs. Her shoulder brushed against them, bumping into each other constantly and she couldn’t bring herself to sit still, especially not when all the emotions were bubbling inside her. 

She couldn’t remember being this emotional before. 

How else was she supposed to be when everything felt out of control and she had no clue what to do? There was nothing she could do no matter how hard she tried to catch everything only for it to slip right through her fingers. 

Jimin wanted to cry when she took a sip of her drink and something just had to top it all off when her order seemed nothing but wrong. Everything in her life was crumbling, she was in pure distress and despair. However, things only could get worse–they had yet to reach the bottom–and not better because among the cold there was always a warmth as she tried to stop the pout on her lips while staring at her drink. 

Jimin felt like a puddle of water in the middle of the road, no one appreciated them and walked around them and all they did was harbour filth; filth being these feelings that only grew bigger, the mess of a puddle becoming bigger too. 

She looked up at the hand that took her drink, her glossy eyes meeting Y/n’s for a split second. 

The younger felt a heat shoot through her body, it was as if she broke a limb at the pain that she felt seeing Jimin actually harbour these tears and not just cry at night when she thought that Y/n was asleep. It hurt her chest, she cared about Jimin, and she knew that she always would because before she became her lover she was her best friend and member. Maybe that's why it hurt even more. Y/n had no clue who she lost in this silent war they were stuck in. 

Was she losing a lover? A best friend? A member?

“You can have mine.” Y/n knew her, Jimin hated it because it made everything even harder and Y/n could see the way the tears grew as quickly as a high tide in the girl’s eyes. She looked hurt, she was hurting, they were hurting, but they continued to do so without saying anything. Why could Y/n tell from a certain pout that Jimin wasn’t satisfied with her food or drink? Why did they have to be so caring for each other? It made cold things warm and they had no clue why things were cold to begin with.

They didn’t want to lose it.

She took the iced green tea she knew that Y/n loved and the younger took her drink. All it took was a sip of it and it all got overwhelming once again because the thoughts didn’t stop crashing inside of her head, exploding and occupying every corner of her mind. It made her wonder if Y/n was busy thinking the same things throughout her whole day too and the thought of being the only one to do so hurt immensely. 

“I will be back–restroom.”

The girls hummed, going back to what they were doing as Jimin excused herself, leaving everything behind her and she wished she could do that with the reality that she didn’t want to live in. It was haunting her. 

She missed the days when her biggest worries in a relationship were that the promised forever wouldn’t be long enough and not that everything had possibly dropped dead like flies around them, that the forever would never happen. It was a painfully slow dance in a burning room that neither of them left just to see if they could still survive once everything had crumbled fully and the smoke had filled their lungs.

Y/n knew that letting time pass would be too painful to sit through. Nothing was waiting for them. Even if it meant a bigger gap, she gave her 3DS to Minjeong who continued on the game while Y/n had become a pawn in a game no one was controlling. It was a game of chaos no one could cultivate anything out of, no order, no logic, no helpful solutions. This was a game of walking a thin line of nothing and everything. 

It was too tiring, walking inside the bathroom felt like getting locked in the confines of a place where no one would ever find her, no one would see her. No one would see if Jimin broke down in the bathroom and it made relief wash over her and the tears spilled like a broken dam. That was all it took and she tried to calm down, but it wasn’t possible as she turned on the faucet, letting it run to drown out her snivels and deep breaths. 

It was exhausting to be crying almost every day, she didn’t know what sleep was anymore and all she lived for was sorrow, she lived to continue hurting. 

Why did they make something simple so complicated? Love was what made it complicated. 

She used the pads of her palms and wiped at her eyes while tilting her head back and letting out a shaky breath. It felt like there was no calming down from this and each second only made it worse. The silence despite the running water, the echoes in the tiled bathroom, and the stalls empty. 

Jimin could still remember all the other times she had been crying in the same bathroom when everything felt like it was all for nothing because she couldn’t feel fulfilment despite her achievements. She could remember the way her girlfriend would end up in the same bathroom, coaxing it all out of her, taking all her burdens and carrying them for her. Could Y/n do the same thing now when they both were in the same shoes?

Everything reminded her of Y/n except Y/n herself. They both felt distant and like different people. 

Even the light knock on the door was familiar and she took in a shuddering breath, turning to look at Y/n when she opened the door. It fell closed right after, her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants, restricting herself from all those instincts that always kicked in. Her eyes followed the hesitance that was clear in Jimin’s body that pulled to Y/n, but with so much trouble as she held the sleeve of the hoodie against her trembling lips. 

“Come on,” Y/n mumbled, knowing that it was all that was needed to get the girl to just break down fully. “It’s okay to not be okay,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders who shook in her arms. The hot tears were burning against her pale skin, wetting her neck, trailing down and spilling like they never had before. Her cheek rested against the side of Jimin’s head, pulling her closer to her body, into her warmth because it was all still the same, but it felt different. 

What was it that exactly wasn’t okay? It wasn’t just them themselves, but them together and it ended up making both of them not feel okay. 

Jimin tightly wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist, crying into her neck. She got pulled closer, her head being cradled by Y/n’s hand. All of it made it impossible to hold the walls up, the ones that were supposed to show that she wasn’t as bothered by it as she truly was. In reality, Jimin could barely breathe through it without falling into a panic attack. Hearing Y/n’s words, and hearing that it was okay made it so much easier to let it all out, especially when she was with the girl and held by her. 

The reassurance that it was okay to cry about the landslide made it easier. Y/n recognised the burdens and Jimin wasn’t alone.

“I’m sorry for how I took it out on you in the morning.” Y/n only hummed, holding her close as Jimin had been a rose with its thorns aimed at Y/n since they woke up. From the harsh words to the ways she blatantly shut her out even when it was a small question not to her girlfriend but to the leader of Aespa. Jimin was scared and it was affecting her role as a leader too, as a member of the group. The fear was consuming her life fully and was getting in the way of everything. 

“I’m just so tired and I can barely sleep at night.” Or maybe she could sleep just fine but chose to cry at night instead of closing her eyes. She woke up more tired each day, every little second got more exhausting than the other. 

“I know, I’m sorry for all of this.” The younger knew all about it, but what she didn’t know was what exactly she was apologising for. Y/n knew that Jimin was crying at night because of what was happening between them, but she knew that it wasn’t her fault or Jimin’s. It was natural, it would have happened at some point, right? Y/n inhaled, closing her eyes because it hurt her, but seeing how much it affected Jimin made it hurt so much more and it made everything more complicated. 

“We can’t keep going without knowing where it’s all heading. I’m confused and–” Y/n stopped her before they got too deep into the truth because neither of them was ready to let go just yet, neither wanted to end it just yet. They needed some more time, some more time to find more than just one option to end their pain. There always was more than one choice. 

She pulled away from Jimin, her upper body lingered with the warmth that the shorter girl left after her. Jimin gripped at Y/n’s sweater, knowing that once they let go they would be apart for what would feel like years again. The void between them would become even bigger than it already was and they would avoid it for much longer. 

“I care about you, nothing will change that and it’s all fine, Jimin.” She held her face cupped in her hands, tears hitting her skin as the girl looked up at her with quivering eyes. They knew that these false paintings of their relationship would make them feel better for now. Not in the long run, but they tried to live in the present–it didn’t matter if they reminisced and avoided the problems of the present. 

Jimin blinked her eyes, trying her best to run into the daydream, trying to escape reality. Her eyes closed, hoping that she would be thrown into her daydream as Y/n kissed her forehead. 

She missed the pretty sunset sky, the fireworks, the green grass, the clouds that came in different shapes and would be fluffy. It was like a childish dream and possibly some people had been right when they said that young love was complicated. It wasn’t like they cared, they had always felt like teenagers in love with each other. 

Why wasn’t it working though? Where did it all go? It no longer felt like a daydream. It no longer felt like it used to do. 

It was so difficult to grasp something that physically wasn’t there, neither of them could grasp it, at the feelings. Love was so beautifully painful the way it painted them with all these different colours. The canvas would always be filled with them and to the eye it would always be beautiful but to the souls that served as the canvas it would always be heaven and hell. Among white there was blue, among blue there was green, among green there was red and it went on. 

The daydream was constantly corrupted by the harsh reality. 

It was like walking a tightrope.

The smallest mistakes felt deadly.

The stupidest mistakes.

It would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that there was so much on the line. 

It was part of the social culture and Y/n had happened to fall victim to it because a few cigarettes had turned into a pack or two a week. What were her reasons? Probably all that went on in her hectic life, but it hadn’t been easy to sneak around with an addiction. It got especially hard when the dorm arrangements changed because she and Jimin got together. 

Y/n had managed to sneak around for a whole two months. All it took was one week of sharing a room with Jimin who gave up on pretending that she didn’t notice the lingering smell of tobacco on Y/n and slowly herself. 

‘Fine, I will quit for you.’

‘Not for me. For yourself and your health.’

‘Doing it for you makes it easier.’

‘Only if you don’t start doing it again. It will hurt to think that doing it for me wasn’t enough.’

‘I promise.’

Even the simplest promises were being broken. It felt all the more hopeless.

It was hard, to say the least with starting to dose down on how much she smoked until it was nothing at all. Y/n had never thought of herself as someone who grew addicted easily, but nicotine turned out to be a bitch and even a year and a half after quitting the cravings came back. There were certain times when they were extra tempting, it made her irritated and restless. It was times like these that she always had her substitutes for them, from nicotine patches to nicotine gum or simply Jimin. 

This time it felt like Jimin was the cause of the cravings. 

The world around them no longer felt real because of how they had surrounded themselves in a fake reality. 

“Did you slam the door in my face?” Venom, that was what Jimin spat out, pure venom behind her words as she locked the door to the green room. The rest were out and talking to their label mates, but it was better to make sure they didn’t walk in if they came back earlier. The last thing Jimin or Y/n wanted was for the rest to notice that everything around them was crumbling, that it had all become a smoke screen. 

Y/n inhaled deeply, rummaging through her stuff, ignoring the clatter as she was on the brink of losing it. “I didn’t and if I did, it wasn’t intentionally. I had no fucking clue you were behind me.” It was a low mutter, but it was just as poisonous as Jimin’s tone which had been louder. At the back of her head, Y/n had been expecting Jimin to be right behind her, she was the whole reason why she was buzzing with cravings. 

“You slammed it in my face and an apology wouldn’t hurt you, Y/n.” Jimin had no clue why she was letting it drag on. She could have dropped it, she was aware that Y/n didn’t know and even if she did, Jimin knew she deserved ten more doors slammed closed in her face. 

“You want me to apologise?” Y/n snapped that easily and it had never happened between the two of them–the cravings only made it worse together with the tension of constantly being on their guard not to let anything slip past them. 

They never really fought to begin with. All those small fights that never meant anything, that never held any real frustrations, it was different now. Those pent-up emotions came out and spilled right over the head of the other. Y/n wanted to throw it at Jimin because her girlfriend had been doing it since they landed in Tokyo. They were being petty for the sake of being it and not for any good causes. Y/n tossed the stuff onto the table, ignoring the even louder clatter of the things and continued to look through her stuff. 

“Called manners.” She commented. It was like she knew that something so simple would irk Y/n more than she already was, especially in this state.

“Oh, so Karina wants to talk manners.” Y/n huffed and turned around, leaning back against the table. Her arms crossed as she gripped onto her arms, hiding the tremor in her fingers as the anger and everything else was overwhelming. She hated fighting with the girl, but it felt inevitable when they were alone in the room with so much tension already lingering between them. 

The past couple of fights they’ve had been nothing but hurtful with no apologies after, pretending it never happened to begin with. 

Jimin’s eyes squinted at the words, Y/n barely called her by her stage name even when they were on stage. Hearing her bring it up was enough to let her know what Y/n was pointing at.

Jimin was falling under the pressure of juggling work and a relationship she could no longer figure out. It had never been a problem for them, but she felt like she had failed her role in the group by letting personal conflicts get in the way. 

Nonetheless, it would be impossible to admit to now when they were in an argument that grew by the second. 

“Don’t comment on my work ethic when you barely have yours under control. You’re being sensitive.” She argued, knowing very well that she had been letting her complex emotions and confusion about where she and Y/n were heading get in the way of her professionalism. 

“You’re the one crying over a door.” Y/n scoffed in disbelief, pointing at the door in question that was behind Jimin. The girl pulled on the strings of her hoodie in frustration at Y/n’s words. It only fueled her on, she couldn’t remember being able to get this angry with Y/n before, she had never thought that she could get angry with her. Or maybe it wasn’t anger that she felt towards Y/n, but just frustration because of how confusing their relationship had turned. How dead it was. 

Maybe she was angry at herself, at the world, or at how confusing love could be. She was angry at the fact that they let it die to begin with. 

“Because you slammed it in my face!” This time she let her voice fly way above what she imagined she would, her foot stomping down in frustration. The tears welled up in her eyes so easily, that constant haunting fragile mentality as everything was hurting and it didn’t let her breathe. 

“Because you are doing a shit job at being a leader!” Y/n watched Jimin pace around, watching how desperately she tried to get rid of her tears. Those tears of frustration, not knowing how else to take it out she yelled at Y/n and cried, but there was only so much that could cover her tears now. 

“Don’t comment on my work ethic, Y/n.” She repeated and found herself in front of Y/n, it almost felt dangerous to be so close to each other at a moment like this. It was scary because they had never had these fights and being so close to what used to be just comfort felt wrong, it felt wrong to bring these feelings into their safety net.

It ruined their purpose, the place they went to when they wanted to escape these feelings, the pressure, the world. It was all truly gone, wasn’t it?

She could feel it all spiral, leaving them with no control over what happened between them in the room.

“Someone has to when you forget how to separate relationships from work. Be a fucking leader and answer a fucking question instead of shutting me out because of our personal life.”

“It’s not easy when this is what it looks like!” She threw her arms, motioning to the mess they were together, the one they both had been avoiding because of how complicated it was. It was hard not to notice, but impossible to truly acknowledge and so it all mixed into everything else.  

“Nothing is ever easy for you, is it? That’s why I always become your punching bag when things go wrong.” The words left Y/n bitterly, her hands gripping onto the table behind her as she exhaled these deep breaths that helped with nothing. Watching Jimin with tears in her eyes wasn’t helping, but Y/n felt like the girl had been trampling all over her. She was using her title as a leader and girlfriend in a nonchalant way, she was neglecting Y/n as a member and not a lover. 

“That’s not true and you know it.” Jimin knew that it was all true, her tone faltering as she would feel even more guilty if she raised her voice to spit out lies. It hurt too much to say the truth of the situation. 

“It has been even more true lately,” Y/n muttered, her eyes leaving Jimin’s. 

It felt like the woman in front of her was trying to coax her into forgiving her without Jimin having to apologise. Y/n was done doing those things. She couldn’t put it all aside like all the other times when she accepted Jimin’s apologies she never even said. The ones where Y/n blatantly admitted to being wrong even when she wasn’t because she didn’t want to fight or see Jimin cry.

“Because–because—” Now came the difficult part for Jimin who had no good excuse for this and she knew that she was wrong. The problem bigger than this one was her pride and ego, they got in the way, especially now after how tense everything has been.  

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing is changing.” It made Jimin’s heart drop, Y/n’s stomach twisting at her own words that she never wanted to say. It was what it felt like though. 

She gently grabbed Jimin’s shoulder to have her step aside as she stood up to walk out the door. 

“Don’t say that.” A quiver fell from between her lips, a lump in Jimin’s throat that cut deep and made it all bleed much worse than it already was. Her hand grabbed Y/n’s to have her stay because, in the end, she didn’t want her lover to leave, not just yet and she quickly stopped in front of Y/n. She would never accept those words, not now at least because hearing them made her lightheaded, it made her chest clench and she wanted to collapse onto the floor to be swallowed before she could feel more pain.

“Where’s our manager? I need her to buy cig–”

“You’re not smoking just because things go wrong for us!” It wasn’t possible to speak with a quivering voice, it was too soft so she raised her voice again. She still cared about Y/n as a member, friend, lover and person, it didn’t matter what was going on between them. Jimin would always care about Y/n. Her hand bunched up the material of Y/n’s shirt in her hand as to keep the girl from leaving her. She refused to let go, in the end, she wasn’t supposed to want anything else but Y/n and even if her feelings were different she clung to that idea. 

That there was only one person for the both of them.

“Is this something else you want to cry about!? You didn’t bring my shit with you because you’re being petty and expect me to break habits.” It had become a habit, Jimin had become someone Y/n relied on with most of her things. If Jimin had been packing certain things for her it had become a habit that she would do it every time and it never crossed Y/n’s mind to do it herself anymore. 

It had never bothered Jimin either and now it was doing nothing but pissing both of them off. Those flaws they had accepted and learned to love before were nothing but a hassle to deal with now and they wanted the other to erase them and change. To change so they could learn to love these new people they would become.

“If you said that you quit for me then fucking keep the promise or will you break them all just because it isn’t working out for us at the moment? And I’m not your mother, Y/n, why do you rely on me packing your fucking things!” She shoved Y/n by the shoulder, wanting to get her away from her even for a split second because she was boiling over with emotions. It would never end well no matter who they were fighting with when there were too many emotions.

Jimin felt conflicted at her own pushing and pulling as she one second wanted no one but Y/n and the other second she couldn’t stand the girl.

“Everything I did for you feels like a waste at the moment when all you give me is headaches, Jimin.” Y/n’s voice was rough and loud, ignoring that they had more performances tomorrow. Jimin could feel the vibrations in her ribcage and she harshly wiped away the tears. It felt like Y/n didn’t deserve her tears at this exact moment, not after those words. She snivelled, still unable to stop them though because how couldn’t she cry when this was what they were now?

They continuously watched what they used to be washed away with each wave that clashed with their shore and dragged away the good to leave filth behind instead.

“I fucking regret even giving you an ounce of my time and life because you’re nothing but a pain to look after. You don’t get to be angry at me because I had to worry about not forgetting my stuff and yours on top of everything!” She couldn’t help but feel like all the blame was now coming her way and maybe she had let Y/n get too comfortable. Jimin couldn’t help it then, but the longer it went on the more she realised that it wouldn’t work that way. 

“You’re like a manchild for fuck’s sake.” Jimin groaned out as it continued to dawn upon her how much of an immature child Y/n could be. Had she been blind all this time? Why did she suddenly mind it? Why were these words even leaving her mouth when she had always loved and accepted Y/n for the person that she was? Were they just looking for reasons to make it all stop? 

“You made it a habit and I stuck to it. Suck it up the same way I have to suck up when I’m your punching bag whenever things don’t go your way.” Y/n couldn’t help but truly realise how much she always let Jimin get away with. The things she would say, the things she would do that hurt, Y/n always forgave her for every little thing because Jimin could do no wrong in her eyes. Jimin was spiralling right now because Y/n hadn’t forgiven her yet for how she had been pushing the younger girl around for the past few days as a member of the same group.

Here she was, still letting the woman in front of her shove her around and blame her for her own mistakes. The way she always forgave Jimin within seconds when she saw tears in her eyes even if Jimin was in the wrong. Y/n felt played by the older now as she realised how their dynamic had worked. 

Y/n would always be the one to take the blame even when it wasn’t hers to take. 

Jimin would always be the one to suffer from how much she took on herself willingly because Y/n couldn’t do it.

“You were playing video games instead of packing even after you saw how stressed I was with my stuff. You got upset over your motion sickness patches, your headphones, fucking lenses and now your gum. I’m fucking surprised you packed your clothes!” 

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t even enter the room without you getting pissed off because I would breathe. I’m not the one being immature but you, Jimin. You are the one who mixed our relationship into work, you’re the one who isn’t professional–” The older girl could feel herself boil over with anger with each point that Y/n made, each word pushing her closer to the edge. She felt like the points Y/n made were being invalidated, Y/n had yet to accept it for what it was and Jimin hated having the truth about herself being pointed out this way. 

“–the one to force habits and then thinking you can just switch them up within a second because you suddenly don’t like what you wanted. Not the whole world revolves around you, but you’ve been too fucking selfish lately to realise it.” Despite all the coldness between them and all that seemed gone, they hung on because every day small things happened that gave them hope–small gestures were enough and they were brought back to the past. It felt as if Jimin hadn’t been trying to work towards each other, but away from each other. “I’m always looking out for you and caring for you.”

Jimin was simply too scared to move anywhere at all because it felt like the smallest mistake would make what was left fall apart fully. She felt paralysed by how scared she was of the truth. It was like having bricks constantly pile on her chest, it was difficult to breathe with them there, and it was difficult to move with them there. The girl felt like she was chained to the pits of hell while staring up at heaven in hopes of it coming down to her. 

What it ended with was it looked like she was selfish for being too scared to move, as if she wanted the world to revolve around her. And maybe if it did it would make everything easier for her. 

“Go fuck yourself Y/n and stop trying to make yourself look like a hero when you make as many mistakes as I do.” Jimin scoffed and wiped at her eyes as she pushed past Y/n, they both felt completely neglected and invalidated by the other. The reality of what it always has been wasn’t easy to swallow because it had never bothered them until now. She was aware that she made mistakes, but Y/n made them too and couldn’t claim the title of a hero when they did as much caring as they did hurting.

Y/n turned on her heels as Jimin pushed past her, she could see the anger, despair and distress clouding her. It was like a grey cloud over their heads, constantly being there for them when they didn’t want it. “It doesn’t excuse your mistakes either and considering my girlfriend won’t do it, yeah, I will ‘cause she’s too busy being stuck up.” Y/n could tell that the last of her words were too much, that they were too disrespectful and insensitive, and that she shouldn’t even be thinking about it right now. Maybe Jimin was right about being nothing but a ‘manchild’. 

Y/n truly felt the consequences of her words when Jimin felt them dig deep into her heart and it was enough to throw everything else out. It was just for a second and she knew she could regret it and feel guilty about it later. The stinging on her palm would subside, but feeling disrespected by Y/n for the first time in her life would linger far longer as she turned back around and landed it across the younger’s cheek. 

“You’re an immature fucking child, Y/n. I’m not just for your pleasure and needs, so fucking respect me.” She spat out, holding onto the girl’s shirt with her stinging hand as it all shut Y/n up. The two were able to very clearly see through each other like glass, it wasn’t even like glass, but air from how clear it was and all they could see was pain and hurt. They caused each other pain and hurt and everything else they used to make each other feel was gone—but then came those moments where it wasn’t gone even if it was for a second and so they held on.

They both felt horrible as Jimin grabbed her things while wiping her tears, not sparing Y/n more glances. All she knew was that she needed to cry to let it all subside for even a bit. Y/n slumped down on the couch, the nicotine cravings slapped out of her. She held her cold palm against her cheek trying to ease the pulsating pain she knew she deserved and Jimin did too as they both were suffering for keeping each other chained down. 

Maybe they had never been perfect, to begin with.

Were all these things stuff they had always wanted to say and they now took the opportunity to do so since everything was already falling apart? Did they hold back on saying these things before because they were scared that they would ruin everything? Or were these things something that should have been brought up a long time ago to make it work out? 

They couldn’t answer that. No one could because it was too late.

Jimin had known that she would feel bad after, that the guilt would eat at her. She was terrified that their relationship had taken a new step forward, towards a goal they didn’t want to reach when Y/n slept in Minjeong’s hotel room. The two peers–in age–were close in the end and so Jimin spent the night tossing and turning wondering if the truth would come out now. That their love was under ruins, crushed and bleeding to death, setting the truth in stone and burying what they used to have six feet under to start a new life. 

She wondered if Y/n spent the whole night awake. Jimin could barely fall asleep knowing they were in the same bed, but with their backs turned to each other, let alone after what happened. She could barely sleep because of how her insides twisted in hopes of escaping to get away from the excruciating pain. The part of them being away after what went down only made her even more anxious. 

The girl got her answers the next day when Y/n was tired and Minjeong went on about her day without a single knowing glance or word. 

They had avoided each other unless they were on stage, but the second they came off it was back to normal. The new normal, they both missed the old normal but they seemingly couldn’t go back to it. 

Or so they thought because once again all that they had been missing poured over them like a rainstorm. 

The simple idea for all of them to go out and eat after the days of performing. There had been an undoubtful tension between the two and not for the same reason they would like to think. It felt horrible to sit beside each other without having apologised for what had happened. However, the longer they sat at the table the closer they seemed to get, but it could have been the alcohol in their veins. 

“I swear, it’s the first time these two aren’t all over each other.” 

Y/n felt a slight heat shoot through her, one of anxiety at Ning’s drunken words because now everyone seemed aware of the situation. It could have been the fact that they dared to speak up about it when they were drunk. Y/n didn’t know what it was, but she toyed with one of the side dishes, knowing that she and Jimin always got more affectionate when they were drunk.

“Tired, that’s all…” Y/n mumbled, trailing off as she looked over at Jimin who sat right beside her–the rest continuing the chatter. The two had been coming closer and closer with each shot of soju and every beer they finished. They could feel the other's heat on them, craving each other in this state no matter what had happened between them for the past months. They craved the affection of the other so much that it hurt, it was boiling from the inside and they were waiting for the other to cave in so they could be close. 

She watched for a second more as Jimin struggled with the marinated perilla leaf, lip between her teeth as she gently swayed, going over her limit this time. Y/n would always be the one to cave in for the older girl. Jimin rarely drank more than she could handle and even that was a lot, but Y/n could tell she was trying to drown herself further. The older woman was already drowning in all her emotions and trying to drown them in alcohol only intensified it all and Jimin felt like she would burst any second and start begging in front of everyone else. 

Y/n turned in her seat the slightest, her attention on the woman who was still the most beautiful one she had ever seen. The one she desired, but it was all so different no matter how beautiful they both were to each other. Her right hand reached over to Jimin, brushing the hair behind her ear and reaching with her left for the leaf. 

Eyes were glossed over, like polished glass from alcohol when Jimin finally looked up and Y/n picked up the leaf, her hand still holding back the hair so it wouldn’t get in the way. 

It was crushing both of them. Jimin felt her world brighten up with hope that had no space in their world anymore, but she wasn’t letting go yet. Y/n fed her with eyes gazing over Jimin’s features, feeling excruciating pain at the fact that she had made her cry, at the fact that they kept hurting each other unintentionally by holding on. It was worth it when these moments still managed to slip through the cracks and let in some light. 

Y/n let go of the latter's hair and wrapped her arm around Jimin’s waist when she leaned into her, resting her weight on Y/n’s side. Her hands found Y/n’s warmth as they pushed under the girl's loose sweater, doing all the holding on that she could. 

“I miss you.” They were sentimental words as Jimin gently whispered, her breath brushing over Y/n’s neck and the younger girl pulled her closer. Y/n took in a deep breath at how homesick she felt for a home she no longer had. They missed each other, they missed what they used to have, but no longer did and it dug into their hearts with no care, tearing them into pieces at how messy it felt. 

“I miss you–miss us,” Y/n mumbled, their world shutting the rest out, inhaling the smog-filled air of everything that had burned down to ashes. Jimin hummed as her eyes closed, hoping that the drunk sentiment would be able to suffice for now even if it was for just one night. All they needed was one night to figure it out, to get to feel what they missed and see if they could bring it all back to life. She felt Y/n’s soft lips press against her head and she nuzzled her face further into the scent that used to be a home and now was only what was left of one.

Her lips gently pressed over Y/n’s skin, her nails gently scratching over Y/n’s back as she moved her other hand up. She cupped the younger’s face, thumb caressing the porcelain-like skin she deeply regretted putting her hand on but she couldn’t regret it when she thought back on what they said to each other. Jimin deserved to suffer for her actions and Y/n deserved to suffer just as much. They would continue until they did the necessary.

Y/n got her head tilted down and looked at Jimin who rested her head against the younger’s shoulder. Her eyes pleaded for a remedy for all the heartbreak even if it was for just one night. To just get away from reality for a few hours. Her fingers brushed over Y/n’s cheek. Y/n gave a small nod and reached over for the beer she had left, finishing it and hoping it would all last long enough and not end the way it did a few days ago. 

“Will you guys mind if we leave early?” The girl asked, but it was already set in stone as she grabbed her jacket and helped Jimin up. They looked over at the two who were closer to each other than they had been for the past few months as Y/n put her jacket over Jimin. 

“Not at all,” Aeri replied, the rest humming in agreement.

It was a short walk to the hotel, wrapped up in each other the whole way and not letting go for a second as they walked in silence, scared to let go or say something that would make it difficult to be this way again. 

They at last did let go as they walked inside the hotel room, but it all shifted for a second as Y/n kicked off her shoes and sat down at the foot of the bed. There was no escaping this landslide, the clash that destroyed so much as she missed what she used to have with Jimin, but had no clue if they could get that back. It tied knots around her heart and tugged on it constantly. 

The latter managed to get her shoes off, the jacket falling after her as she walked over to Y/n. Despite the slight blur, she could see clearly through everything else and now was the only time she knew she could apologise. 

It used to be easier. 

“Y/n…” 

The girl took a deep breath and looked away from her hands and at Jimin who kneeled beside her. Her chin rested against Y/n’s thigh as she stared up at her girlfriend, her lower lip slightly jutted out. The younger one hummed, her hand running through Jimin’s hair as she caressed her scalp gently, missing the touch of someone else. The back of her fingers trailed over Jimin’s cold cheek who grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

The silence braced them as they stared at each other, heads tilting, ears filling with the heavy yet soft breaths from alcohol-filled veins, the buzz of the outside world only faint. That silence of acceptance of what their love was, what it used to be and how it no longer was. 

Jimin heaved a sigh and rested her cheek against Y/n’s thigh, staring off into the dimly lit hotel room. The sentiment of sorrow, sadness and nostalgia as everything had become too farro reach now and it would be hard to save anything. If they could continue to pretend then everything would go back to being fine. If they lived a lie long enough, it would become their reality. 

“I’m sorry about the other day—” She mumbled, slumped on the floor and her gaze moved as she tilted her head to look Y/n in the eye. Their eyes connected, filled with the buzz of alcohol, and the perception of the fake reality they had created in their head washed over them. Those small gestures that made hope wash over them wouldn’t change anything, would they? They didn’t want to think about it. “I shouldn’t have raised my hand,” her lips momentarily formed into a pout at the disdain she felt for her actions.

Jimin knew there was no excuse for it even if she felt like an emotional wreck. They were losing control and it was starting to deeply affect them. They were going full speed through crossings with no hands on the wheels, covering their eyes to not look at the truth and soon enough they would crash right into a wall. 

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” Y/n always let Jimin get away with everything and nothing would probably ever change that.

Jimin shook her head, lifting it from Y/n’s thigh as she got up to stand on her two feet. Y/n’s fingers tangled into the sweatshirt the girl had on as she stood between her legs. Despite the slight tremors in Jimin’s fingers, buzzing with more than just alcohol, but also a surge of feelings, the uncertainty, longing, feelings of loss and hope; she cupped Y/n’s face in her hands. Her touch was soft as Y/n’s glimmering eyes met her.

“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did either.” Y/n mumbled, closing her eyes and resting in Jmin’s hands who caressed her features with her thumbs. They still would always melt at the affection because it was normal to crave, but it didn’t feel like it used to. Aside from it feeling good, those other things didn’t spread across them. “I’m sorry.” 

That sorry felt like it was for more than what happened in that room and Jimin knew it. She knew that the apology was because they both genuinely felt bad for letting a promise of forever die. 

‘I love you.’

‘Never stop loving me, Y/n.’

‘I will love you forever, I promise.’

‘I will love you forever, Y/n, I will always care about you.’

‘Don’t cry, Jimin, I’m always here for you.’

Jimin deeply exhaled and closed her eyes before she could let the tears even form and with a lump in her throat she closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a kiss to suckle on the hope left in them. It was eagerness, it was to forget and not to remember. Y/n’s hands grabbed hold of Jimin’s hips, pulling her closer.

They tilted their heads to meet tongues that tasted as bitter as the beer they had and the longing for what they had lost, as sweet as the sake they downed and the reverie they lived in. It was with desperation because it felt like it was the last of them that was left and they would do everything to latch onto it and stick forever. The forever they had promised. 

Jimin ran her fingers through Y/n’s hair, pushing deeper, wanting to feel more, she needed more. She needed Y/n, she missed the touch against her body and that was all that it felt like for them now. The fulfilment of each other’s needs and nothing else as Jimin discarded Y/n’s sweater, letting it fall to the floor. Her cool hands ran over the warm skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, emotions swirling under their skin as they pulled away to remove Jimin’s top. 

Their eyes locked, looking for something, searching, but they had no clue what they were trying to find anymore. It ended quicker than expected and their lips met once again, meeting tongues and letting out desperate sounds. Y/n’s fingertips grazed over Jimin’s skin as if the girl was made of gold, the gentle and careful touch making the latter bubble with more need. She ran them over her sides, tracing every ridge, coming to her spine with one hand as the other slid over her ribs until she reached the hem of Jimin’s jeans. 

With ease she undid them and as they fell to the floor the older girl straddled Y/n who huffed at the weight that pressed down against her growing cock. As Jimin looked Y/n in the eye, the girl reached over to her face, brushing away the black strands of hair. She could still see a sparkle in Y/n’s eyes, but it was flickering. It wasn’t there for the same reasons that it used to sparkle. This was for the lust that would always linger inside their veins.

“Make me feel good, you owe me this,” Jimin mumbled, knowing that they both owed each other this for the things they had been putting the other through for the past months. This was finally their chance to make the other feel good in a way that was more than just sentimental. There was no sentiment in lust because it had never been part of it, but now it ruled them. 

She grabbed Y/n’s hand which was still by her face and captured those sweet lips while guiding the hand to the back of her bra. Jimin trailed her kisses away from Y/n’s lips and along her jawline, slowly going further and nuzzling her nose into her neck. The scent was still one of her favourites. She took it in and ran her tongue over the skin before wrapping her lips around it. 

It made Y/n stall with the bra, a faint whimper falling from between her lips as Jimin slowly started to gyrate her hips, rolling her heat against Y/n’s that was straining against her jeans. “I want your lips on me Y/n.” She breathed out against the red mark, wanting to feel the pleasure, they both wanted to be brought out of this hell they had painted as heaven. This was their chance. 

Y/n bit her lower lip, her neck being plated with kisses by Jimin all while the girl continued to press against her cock, grinding slowly while releasing shaky breaths between kisses. The girl managed to undo the bra and only then did her girlfriend pull away, letting Y/n remove it fully whose eyes focused on her chest right away. Jimin’s words hadn’t fallen deaf to her ears and all she wanted was to give the girl exactly what she wanted. This was the only thing that they could make work. 

“I love every inch of you.” Any other time the words would burn within Jimin’s soul and leave their mark and they had done so permanently, but they no longer reached as deep. They were all for the outside as they had changed from the inside towards each other. 

Her fingers tangled at the back of Y/n’s head, gently making her look her in the eye as she tilted her head. “Show me instead.” It was like a whisper, her lips ghosting Y/n’s, knowing that she would be able to feel more from actions rather than words now. 

Y/n manoeuvred them, laying Jimin down on the bed, legs wrapped around her waist as she stood by the edge of the bed. The girl bunched up the duvet beside Jimin’s head, taking one last look at her chest before she leaned down to show how much she appreciated her body. With fingers tangled in her hair and nails scratching her scalp Y/n started to leave scorching kisses along Jimin’s skin.

Her tongue soothed over the pulse, tenderly kissing down, her kisses tickling as she trailed down, taking in the soft hums and breaths that the girl let out. She came down to her collarbones, grazing her teeth over them, leaving her marks after her as those were the only good ones they managed to leave on each other now. Everything that went deeper hurt. 

A faint gasp left Jimin’s mouth when lips fervently latched onto her chest, all the heat running through her body and shooting straight to her aching clit. “Fuck,” was all that she could mutter at the warm tongue playing with her nipple, sucking on the tender flesh. Y/n’s devotion to what was left of them was shown through the way she consumed her flesh, leaving her bites to linger.

Y/n moved her mouth to the other nipple, her hand coming down to fondle the older’s chest. It was enough for more sounds to start coming from Jimin at the way her nipples were being played with and her chest littered with kisses. It made her thighs tense around Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer and when the rough material pressed against her cunt a moan fell from her lips. The younger girl hummed, pressing more against Jimin while toying with the hard nipples with her mouth and fingers, twisting and pulling, touching her in a way only she knew. 

It was yet another thing that was hard to let go of. The fact that they knew each other’s bodies so well and knew exactly what to do. It was all working against what should be done and driving them towards pipe dreams.

Her chest heaved, losing her words as they all came out breathless, being greedy for more to fill all the emptiness that had been growing for the past months. “You’re so good, baby.” She hummed, her eyes closing as her mind finally went empty, it went silent with everything else and all they could focus on was the moment and not what was and what would be. It was enough to make Y/n’s hips press more into Jimin, slowly moving them for friction while leaving the older’s chest glistening. 

She slowly started to move down further, kissing along the heaving slim stomach until she was on her knees in front of Jimin. The lacy black underwear seeped through with her arousal and Y/n’s fingers hooked at their hem, looking up at Jimin who was sitting up and looking down at her with lust-clouded eyes. She leaned back against her palms, raising her hips and letting Y/n peel off the last piece of her body.

Her hands ran over Jimin’s thighs, spreading her legs further apart while biting onto her lower lip at the view of her glistening pussy that was leaking with juices. She lifted the girl’s leg and rested it over her shoulder before she started to kiss along her inner thighs, gently biting and sucking on the soft flesh as her hands needily kneaded them. It made Jimin heave a sigh, her hand coming to grab hold of Y/n’s head, dwelling in the feeling of the butterfly kisses left along her inner thighs. 

Through her hooded eyes, she watched Y/n, making eye contact every time the younger looked up through her lashes for approval of what she was doing despite knowing Jimin’s body better than most things. Her fingers pressed into the flesh as her arm was wrapped around one of her thighs, inching closer until she reached the girl’s heat. It was enough to make the older girl squirm the slightest when she got pulled closer to the edge before feeling the wet muscle drag between her folds.

Y/n grabbed hold of her waist with her free hand, holding Jimin in place to not have her squirm too much. Her tongue ran between her folds, spreading the wetness as she dipped her head and circled the grasping hole. The grip on her hair tightened, ears being filled with soft moans and whimpers as she continued to work her tongue and lips around the puffy cunt. She sucked on her lips, enjoying the mess that was spreading on her chin, lapping every little bit up to get more on her tongue. 

Jimin slowly felt herself lose her mind at the teasing tongue, Y/n taking her time to continue working her up. The need continued to bubble inside her, her clit throbbing for attention and her hole clenching as she wanted to be filled until she would feel numb in the brain for at least a few minutes. This was finally something they could grasp at, the escape from everything even the daydream they had created, getting to a real one even if it wouldn’t last too long.

The light moans filled the hotel room when Y/n’s lips at last wrapped around her swollen clit, her tongue coming out to flick at the bud. The pace between slow and fast, sucking and flicking was making Jimin’s thighs tremble around the girl’s head. Her fingers were tangled in Y/n’s hair, pulling her closer to her pussy as her hips faintly bucked at the pleasure. 

Y/n drowned, getting as much pleasure from drowning between Jimin’s soft thighs as the girl above her was feeling from the tongue that was toying with her needy cunt. She caressed her heaving stomach with her other hand, kneading the plush flesh of her thigh as she felt Jimin pull her further into her with her leg that was on her shoulder. 

“Fuck, Y/n–” She whined, her breathing picking up and growing heavier the longer her clit was played with. She could feel it all slowly approaching her and soon enough she would reach the edge and fall off of it. 

The girl dipped her head, her nose rubbing against the swollen clit and her tongue lapped at the juices. The room filled with the sopping sounds of Jimin’s pussy and moans and Y/n’s mouth messily eating her out, moaning at the taste and tugs on her hair, her cock throbbing at how good it felt. With the sticky mess collected on her tongue, she circled her clit and went back to flicking at it and tugging with her lips. 

“So close, ‘m so close, baby.” 

Her body started to tense up, Y/n’s ears muffled at how the thighs locked around her head with her head being held in place. It made her sore tongue work harder to be able to hear Jimin’s voice go up higher. 

That was enough for the older girl to lose her control and the sounds started to spill from her mouth, moaning Y/n’s name in a high pitch. Her body got consumed by heat as her vision blacked out and her ears started to buzz when the orgasm hit its peak as Y/n continued to flick at her clit. It was making her whine and buck her hips for more until she felt herself crash back down to reality. She heaved for air, loosening her grip on Y/n’s hair and the girl slowed down, only leaving small kisses along her skin that was scorching. 

When she got back up on her feet their lips met in a vivid kiss, Jimin’s hands working on Y/n’s jeans to undo the loose material. She tugged them down together with Y/n’s boxers, her hand wrapping around the thick cock that was scalding in her hold as she pumped it, smearing the precum as she reached the swollen tip. The whimpers that fell from Y/n’s lips were swallowed by Jimin, moaning into the intense kiss. 

She pulled Y/n down, making her lay down on the bed, the younger girl moved back until she was in the middle of the bed, leaning against her elbows. Her eyes were on Jimin who got on the bed before crawling over to her. They got engulfed in each other's heat as she straddled Y/n who slumped back, running her hands over the girl’s thighs and to the back of her ass to caress it. 

“No one knows me like you do.” She whispered, leaning down and letting her lips brush over Y/n’s with her fingers tracing along her jawline. No one knew Jimin like Y/n did and no one knew Y/n like Jimin did and even if it looked the way it did, they carried that fact with pride. She pecked the girl's lips, pulling away and letting Y/n chase after her as she tried to grab hold of Jimin’s face, but got her hands pinned down to the bed. 

“Jimin–” She tried although was cut off as she let her head fall back against the mattress, fingers twisting the duvet as her wrists were held down by the girl on top of her. 

“I hate that now.” She admitted, hating that no one knew her as well as Y/n and that no one would ever get to know her as well again. They had learned from their mistakes and now no one would ever be able to compare. There was no one she would open up to like this again, not when it hurt so much when it all died. They didn’t want to go through this pain twice when they never wanted to experience it to begin with.

“I know.” Jimin huffed, her lips brushing over Y/n’s neck because obviously, the younger girl would know that Jimin hated it now. “Do you regret it?” Y/n mumbled, doing her best to not squirm under the girl who was leaving light kisses along her neck. The words from the other day still lingering, but Jimin knew that she never meant what she said about regretting it.

“No matter how much it hurts–” Jimin pulled away and looked Y/n in the eye, the younger’s head tilting to the side as she stared up at her with hopeful eyes. Y/n’s eyes alone were enough for Jimin to know the answer, she knew it right away as she reached her hand down to Y/n’s face, one still holding her wrists down. Her thumb tenderly caressed along Y/n’s cheek and over her lips. “I could never regret everything I’ve given you.” And everything she gave was all that she had after she placed herself in Y/n’s hands and she would always be there even if what made her give herself in the first place had withered. 

Her thumb tugged down on Y/n’s lip before she leaned down and attached their lips once again. Sighs fell from between their lips, Jimin’s hand running between their bodies to grab hold of Y/n’s cock. 

Y/n pulled away from the kiss, panting for air as her eyes fell between their bodies, watching Jimin drag the swollen tip through her folds, the slickness and warmth were enough to make Y/n bite back a whine at how good it felt. The grip on her wrists tightened when her tip made contact with Jimin’s clenching hole, slowly pushing into the tightness that sucked her in. 

“So tight.” The younger mumbled, her chest heaving at the anticipation as she watched herself slowly disappear inside of the girl on top of her, splitting her folds with her cock. The tight walls engulfed her length, grasping it and sucking her inside with greed as they continuously clenched at the stretch. 

“You make me feel so full.” Jimin sighed with a whine at the slight pain. 

Y/n’s eyes stayed glued on how her cock got engulfed by Jimin’s tight pussy, splitting her lips around the thick shaft and she slowly moved. The older girl hummed, letting go of Y/n’s wrists. Both her palms rested on top of the girl’s stomach with her nails slightly digging in at the painful stretch. Hands caressed her thighs while she lowered herself until she felt Y/n deep inside her, filling her to the hilt. 

Y/n dropped her head, shutting her eyes tightly when she was fully inside Jimin who let out a light moan at the feeling. Her cock was throbbing, twitching at how good it felt, the warm and wet walls were pulsating around her and her stomach flexed with every little move. 

She slowly started moving her hips back and forth, her clit still sensitive from her first orgasm as it dragged along Y/n’s pelvis. Her walls fluttered, and being filled up was making her crave more at how good it felt. The feeling of Y/n’s veiny cock raw inside her tight cunt was overwhelmingly good, making out each vein that dragged along her walls.

She gyrated them as they whined back and forth on Y/n’s dick whose lips were parted at the way it dragged along the clenching walls. Her ears were graced by Jimin’s soft gasps and sighs, nails digging into her stomach. The older’s thighs flexed, her walls pulsating and clit throbbing as she slowly increased her speed, chasing her pleasure by using Y/n. 

“I love using your cock to make myself feel good,” Jimin whined, her head getting thrown back and Y/n groaned at the words that made her dick ache inside the hot and wet cunt of the girl. Their bodies moved and fit together perfectly like waves that collided against waves, their bodies buzzing with that feeling from the inside as their head splashed with desires. 

Her chest heaved at the sight of her girlfriend grinding along her cock, watching how she chased her high once again. The sounds were starting to get more lewd with each moan falling from the girl’s lips, Jimin’s wetness coating Y/n’s base and the mess only got bigger.

“You look so good doing it.” Y/n could feel the way the walls clasped around her at the words, the girl taking all the pleasure in using Y/n for her benefit as Y/n enjoyed it just as much. The way the girl would go on and have her orgasms before Y/n even got to think of hers.

Jimin was on top of her with a vice grip on her cock with her sopping cunt. Y/n’s hands were on her the thighs flexed with each movement and her tip was hitting all the right spots deep inside her. She watched the way the older gasped and threw her head back, dragging her swollen clit along Y/n’s pelvis. Jimin reached behind her and held onto Y/n’s tense thighs instead, rolling her hips in a way that was making her stomach tighten and warm up as she fucked herself on top of the girl.

“I’m so close, baby–fuck, so good.” Her voice cut into a higher pitch as the orgasm started to wash over her with her hips bucking for more and Y/n’s thumb found its way to her swollen clit. She circled the bud as Jimin kept bucking her hips against her, watching the way her chest bounced with each movement.

The throbbing walls clasped around her cock, squeezing it tightly enough for the movement to slow down. Her thighs quivered and she let out cries of pleasure, her voice light and bringing Y/n closer to the edge at how good she looked on top of her. Nails dug into Y/n’s thighs, heat pouring over Jimin’s whole body at her second orgasm.

She heaved for breath, stopping her movement and shivering at the shocks going through her warm body. Her body got engulfed in Y/n’s arms when the girl sat up, her cock still buried deep within the confines of Jimin’s pulsating pussy. She wrapped her arms around Y/n’s shoulders, palms running over her back which was covered in a sheen of sweat. 

As Jimin looked at Y/n, she didn’t want to be done yet, she wished she could drag this out for the rest of her life. To make this serene moment last forever as their bodies became one and all that had been on her mind disappeared. Those worries were gone, it was just now, the present forgotten and the future didn’t exist until it was tomorrow and by then it was present again. 

She tangled her fingers at the back of Y/n’s hair, slowly moving up and down while pulling Y/n more into her. Their breaths mingled, parted lips grazing until she caught Y/n’s lower lip between hers and gently tugged. It was all that they needed, to be back in each other’s arms, to be close and it started to ignite the spark of hope although it didn’t seem to glow strong enough as it continued to flicker back to life before disappearing. 

“I miss you–so much,” Jimin mumbled as she pulled away, moving her hips back and forth as Y/n’s breaths grew heavier. The younger buried her face in the crook of her neck, planting tender kisses. Jimin could feel it all coming back, maybe she hadn’t been drunk enough, or maybe no matter how drunk she was on lust and alcohol she would never be able to drown out the pain of a breaking heart. 

The alcohol and lust weren’t able to mend their hearts. 

Y/n looked up when Jimin pulled her away from her sweltering neck, their eyes met, Jimin’s were glimmering and the entry to her soul had always been open for Y/n. The longer she stared into the window of her soul, the more she realised how crushed Jimin was and it was enough to clarify that they were both suffering. Her hand smoothed over Y/n’s jaw, running along it as she tilted the girl’s head back, her movement not stopping as she watched Y/n slowly crumble under her.

It was shattering her insides to see Y/n this way, the same way it was shattering Y/n to see Jimin like that. They had never thought that the person they loved the most would be the one to destroy them the most too. 

Love was lethal no matter how much two people loved each other.

“Fuck–” Y/n breathed out, being cut off by Jimin’s soft lips, the girl could feel the length inside her grow harder and twitch as it was clasped inside her heat. They swallowed each other’s moans until they no longer could and the older’s pace picked up, her ass colliding with Y/n’s thighs each time she went down while letting out quick and sharp breaths. Y/n’s hands gripped onto her ass, fingers digging into the soft yet firm flesh as she helped Jimin move, feeling the movement slack off at times. 

A soft and light moan escaped Jimin’s lips, grounding herself down on Y/n’s cock, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she panted against her neck. Teeth dug into her shoulder, the whimper suppressed from the younger as she could feel the ropes of cum shoot one after another into her, painting her walls white. Y/n pulled away from her shoulder, slipping out of Jimin’s warmth as they eased down to reality.

Everything stilled as the younger girl still held Jimin in her arms, caressing her warm back while taking deep breaths. It felt like neither of them planned to move any second as the girl snuggled closer into Y/n’s neck, burying her face in the crook of it, her eyes shutting tightly.

It was making Jimin’s chest heave at the panic she felt because she could only watch it all slip through her fingers, unable to do anything to save it.

The attempt to suppress her sobs was feeble as the first one slipped through and then a second followed and her tears were staining Y/n’s skin once again. “Jimin–” 

“I’m scared, Y/n.” She cried into her neck, sobbing and snivelling as it overwhelmed her once again, this time she wasn’t able to hold back on releasing what was heavily on her chest. It didn’t matter how scared they were to bring up the obvious because the thought of how it would end was terrifying. Neither wanted it to end. However, the realisation dawned upon them and it would all end much sooner than intended if they did nothing about it. 

“I’m right here.” Y/n slowly pulled her away, manoeuvring Jimin’s body like fragile butterfly wings that could crumble with a little too much pressure. The girl continued to cry, pulling her knees to her chest, crying into them as Y/n draped the duvet over her, covering her naked body. 

She couldn’t grasp at it, at how all the promises died the second their love did, that they made promises they couldn’t keep and it never should have been this way. They promised to love each other forever and they did, but it no longer was the love that was beyond care and compassion. It was adoration and not love, the love; was gone. 

Jimin refused to accept it, no, she couldn’t accept that and would dig through every little corner until she found something that would help the withered flower bloom back to life. She’d shed all her tears until her eyes would be bleeding just to have enough to water their flower of love that had died. There had to be some way to save it even if it hurt, even if it hurt more than it already did.

Y/n got back onto the bed after she pulled on her boxers, Jimin was still crying into her knees until the younger girl sat behind her, the duvet resting over the both of them. She held back on her tears as she cradled the weeping girl’s head, lending her shoulder to cry on once again and she would continue doing so until her last breath. It would never matter what type of love they held for each other, she would always care even if everything else they used to have that was deeper had died. 

It was a death neither of them knew how to cope with.

“I’m here for you.” She reassured her, kissing the top of her head.

“I hate this, Y/n—” Her sobs cut through her words, her hands gripping the duvet before they let go, feeling hopeless; what was there to hold on to in reality? There was nothing to hold onto as they both freely fell through hell for each other. It made them weak in so many ways. “Nothing is the same anymore and I don’t know what to do.” Acceptance was hard for anyone, it had always been hard, but it was even harder when it came to something they made their whole lives revolve around. How could they just accept that their worlds no longer circled the other? 

It stung, it hurt deeply to think that this was possible, something they had never thought about had become their reality. The flower that bloomed with their love was dead. Yet these tears and the pain they felt at the thought of needing to let go made them want to try again. One last try to revive something that had been dead and cold for months. If some miracle happened, they would be able to bring it back to life. Their love would bloom from a dead flower at some point, they would continue watering it with their tears, crying over the dead flower that was their love in hopes of it coming back to life.

“We can make it work again.” Y/n wasn’t brave enough to say the words, she wasn’t strong enough to say them for Jimin and herself. To admit for the both of them that what was lost was lost and that it was time to say goodbye and bury their love because there was nothing to save once it was already gone.It was too difficult to bury it when they had yet to accept its death. They had no clue how to cope with everything.

It was eating at them, tearing them apart and glueing them back together into an even bigger mess.

“We can fix everything,” Y/n reassured, knowing that these could as well be empty words and new promises to break, but she couldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up on Jimin even if they were mistaking care and compassion for a small ember of love that they could turn into a fire. That fire had gone out a while ago and what was left were ashes.

“Do you think that’s possible?” She whimpered, wanting to do anything to try and grasp at that false little ember of hope.

“I don’t know,” Y/n whispered, just as uncertain, but she would do anything for Jimin even if it meant ruining herself. 

They couldn’t know, but at least it was reassurance that they didn’t have to let go yet and could continue no matter how much it hurt because it would hurt even more if they were apart. It was too difficult to let go of someone they had built their lives around. They would hurt for each other and they would choose that over happiness with someone else because no one would ever be able to give them what they used to have.

They longed for each other’s love. They missed it and just wanted to feel it again but it was all gone. It no longer felt like it used to and they missed those feelings they used to have. Where did they go wrong for it to happen in the first place? What were they supposed to do to fix it? Let go and move on. Stay and continue to drag through the impossible to try and fix it?

They weren’t in love anymore, they just loved each other.

[cordeliawhohung]

i’m the mood for hurt/comfort but feel free to ignore,

what about mafia!price with his darling wife who is experiencing postpartum depression

PPD is such a terrible thing to have to go through. i've had a few patients share their experiences with me, so a lot of what i've incorporated into this short drabble is based off of that as well as some other research i've done. it's an issue that's largely ignored in our society but thankfully is being brought into light more. if you're experiencing this, please reach for help if you're able. there might be more resources for you than you realize (: i'll provide a link to the PSI website, should anyone find themselves in need of their support!

warnings: anxiety, intrusive thoughts (fear of infant death/harm), depression, hurt/comfort, f!reader, everything's gonna be okay (:

mafia!141 masterlist

She won't stop crying.

It's been four hours and your ears are ringing from your daughter's high pitched screaming, and nothing you do seems to console her. No amount of bouncing or shushing or attempts to feed her will cease her wails, and you're convinced that someone is trying to punish you. So you pace around the living room with her in your arms as you try and drown out her sobs with the late night weather. The clock on the bottom right of the screen reads 1:17 AM.

John is still at work.

You start crying when the clock reads 1:42. There's a terrible ache and burn in your arms from holding her for so long, but the thought of putting her down makes you want to scream. You think of attempting to tuck her away in her crib, to shut the door to try and take a moment to breathe and your mind is filled with what ifs. What if she chokes? What if she stops breathing and you're not around to help her? What if you leave her there, all alone, and you come back to nothing but a stiff corpse?

No, you can't put her down, so you continue to pace the living room while you attempt to ignore the wet tears that smother your face and neck. Why is she still crying? Is it something you did? Something you didn't do? Maybe you're just incompetent as a mother, so much so that your own child is rejecting you. This squealing, writhing mass of flesh is proof that you never should have bore her at all.

Keys jingle outside of the front door at 1:56 and neither you nor the baby have calmed down the slightest bit. The door swings open and shuts quickly after, and it doesn't take John long to find his wife and child sobbing together in the living room. He looks like hell with messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but it's nothing at all compared to your tear stained face and puffy eyes.

"Oh, darling," he breathes.

He crosses the room in an instant, but before he has time to question you, you hold the baby for him to take. There's an obvious tremble in your grip, and your biceps strain and cry out from the movement. Terrified you'll drop her, you all but shove her into his chest before he has the chance to scoop her up properly.

"Take her," you say through a sob. "I can't. I can't fucking do this."

Words leave his mouth but don't quite hit your ears. They're ringing much too loud for you to pay attention to anything other than the dread eating through your stomach.

Your tears don't stop when you leave the living room, or the house for that matter. Cool air teases the still wet streaks on your face, and with your hands free you can finally wipe them clean, though it doesn't make you feel any better. The backyard looks strange at night without any lights to illuminate it, and maybe you would feel creeped out or even scared if you could find it within you to even care about yourself in that moment.

When your legs can no longer carry you, you find yourself in the grass. Perfectly manicured and kept, it makes the perfect surface for you to sit on while you sob into your hands, powerless to do anything else. Something is wrong with you. There has to be. You couldn't comfort your daughter, couldn't get her to feed, couldn't do anything but hold her and pray it would all stop.

You aren't sure what time it is when you hear footsteps approaching behind you, but you don't have to turn around to know it's John. Tears have stopped pouring down your cheeks but your sobs still shake your body. John settles on the grass next to you, and you don't bother fighting against him as he pulls you into his lap.

You want to find comfort in his arms, in the way his hands rub long stripes along your back, but deep down you know you're not worth it. A pathetic excuse for a mother, you couldn't even calm his child before he got home from a long night at work.

"What's goin' on, love?" he prompts after a while.

It takes you a moment to find your words, and an even longer time before you can stop crying long enough to get any of them out. Still, John is patient with you, and he continues to rock and hold you, comforting you in the way you couldn't comfort your child.

"I wish I was a good mother," you cried, shamefully burying your face into his neck. "I can't get her to stop crying, she won't feed- nothing I do works. I'm sorry, I just can't, I don't know what to do."

John's grip on you grows tighter as you speak, and you focus on the way his thudding heart quickens at your words. One of his hands moves to the back of your head where he holds you even closer as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

"It's not your fault," he assures softly.

"It is!" you retort. "I can't bond with her, it's like she hates me. And I'm trying so hard but I can't get through to her..."

"Darling, she's just colicky, it's not your fault," he insists.

But you can't stop crying. There's a pit of hopelessness eating you from the inside out, and the pain turns your sobs into pathetic squeaks that shatters John's heart. He gently pries you away from his chest, cotton soaked and darkened from your tears, and cradles your cheeks in his hands.

"Look at me, hey," he whispers, guiding you to look at him. "You are raising a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Our baby. Sure, she's going through a fussy streak, but that's got nothin' to do with you. It's just colic, love. She'll get through it. We'll get through it."

It's difficult to agree with him, to believe him, and your confirmation feels empty in your throat when you speak. But he's looking at you with such love, like you hung the stars or...

Or like you gave him a child.

That night, John tucks you into bed and if the baby cries, you don't hear her. He spends the night tucked away in the living room on the couch, flipping through channels on the screen while shushing his fussy daughter. Her sobs had turned into heart wrenching whimpers by that point, which isn't great but is better than nothing.

When morning comes and the dull dawn light illuminates the room, John shoves his hand into his pocket and fishes out his phone. It's nearly dead since he had been on it half the night at work and didn't have the chance to charge it when he got home, but it has enough juice for him to make a quick call.

The dial tone is loud in his ear, and his daughter lets out a small whine before quickly settling down again. Simon's voice on the other end is groggy and harsh like he has gravel stuck in his vocal chords.

"Takin' the piss outta me calling me this early in the mornin' Price," he grumbles.

"You can get your beauty rest later. I need a favor," John says, ensuring that his voice stays low so as to not stir the baby. "I need some time off."

"Time off?" Simon repeats. "From the family?"

"My girls need me."

Silence fills the line. There's the slight sound of rustling, like someone's moving sheets or a duvet.

"Take care of 'em. I'll keep your boys in line," Simon replies.

There's nothing more to say after that besides a quick thanks, and as soon as the line cuts, the baby decides she isn't quite done crying yet. John shushes her as he rocks her and sits forward in his seat, pushing himself to his feet shortly after.

"Time for breakfast, is it?" he asks. Despite the sheer exhaustion that rattles his bones, he still smiles down at his daughter even though her face is too twisted with her cries to see it. "Alright sweetie, it's okay. Papa's gonna fix you something to eat."

[risuola]

Please hear me out!

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.

LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku

cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words

a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3

It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?

* * *

“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”

“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.

You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.

That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.

Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.

When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.

Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.

Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.

“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”

“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”

“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”

“I know Suguru.”

“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”

“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”

“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.

“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“

“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”

You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.

* * *

Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.

It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.

That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.

Kill on sight.

Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.

“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.

“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”

“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.

Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.

“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”

“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.

“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?

“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”

“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”

“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”

“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”

“An army of Toji?”

“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”

 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”

“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”

“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”

“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”

“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.

“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.

All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.

“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.

“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.

And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.

The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.

The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.

“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.

Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.

“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”

Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.

“’ts okay, ‘toru.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”

“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”

“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.

“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.

You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.

Until you were not.

“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“

“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.

* * *

October 31, 2018

21:18

Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.

Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.

“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”

“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.

“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”

“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“

“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”

“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”

“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”

Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.

“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.

“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.

“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”

“We won’t let you-“

“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”

The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.

“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.

“Gate close.”

[milkzoro]

3D ★

portgas d ace -> ‘i wanna see it. in motion. in 3d.’

warnings: sexting, ft call, masturbation

☆彡

ace loved the curves of you, every angle he drooled over. his perfect princess was displayed everywhere.

he had you posted anywhere he could. his wallet, lock screen, on his cars dash, naughty pictures of you were always on exhibit. you were his girl after all, why wouldn’t he want to show you off whenever he got the chance?

these little memories were also there to remind him of you while you were away, he dreaded all those times.

he couldn’t even sleep some night because of your absence,, he wished you were here.

once those feelings registered, he couldn’t help it. fuck, was he so horny. he whined at the pressure growing in his lower abdomen, tightness filling his boxers.

he toyed with himself with the imagination of you but it wasn’t nearly enough. he craved you. he needed to hear you, talk him through it.

“pick up. pick up. — *click* ahhh y/n, babyy~” his voice rang lowly on the line, his sound alone sending flutters towards your core. “hi bae i miss you ♡.”

“fuckk, i miss you too.” his voice was heavy. by the sounds of him you knew he was torturing himself, slowing tracing along his leaky tip before deciding to call you up. “can you answer facetime?”

~

“you look so beautiful mama. let me see all of ya~” a blush crept on your face before extending your arms above to show all your body in frame.

you played into it, you began to feel that same heat rise in your tummy. you angled the camera a bit lower, showing your soft breasts. caressing them tenderly as you lowered your top even more. “like what you see baby?”

“mhmmm show me your cunt, i know you’re wet baby~ can see it in your pretty face.” his words played with your mind, you thighs squeezing around nothing trying to get some friction. he was right, you were so wet.

you had your camera propped up on a pillow, perfectly positioned to show you sitting upright with your legs parted for him. your fingers danced along the hem of your lacy panties. a sigh escaped your lips, you missed him so much.

“fuck princess— you gonna touch your self for me? let me help you, wish i was there for you angel, suck your pussy jus how you like it.” his words drew on. only making you more and more impatient. “take ‘em off y/n, let me see baby.”

you did as he said and stripped them off, teasing your man with your fingers covering most of your pretty cunt.

you heard muffled sounds on the line, his phone was positioned low, showing his toned stomach and his thick neck. he was laying on his back as he played with his dick.

“p-put em in for me— needa hear you babe.”

your fingers slipped between your folds collecting the juices from your arousal, they swirled between the entrance of your hole and your sensitive nub.

“ace—“ you purred for him, pretending your fingers were his own. he groaned with you. seeing your pretty face contract at the feeling of your own fingers, it everything to him.

“when you get home baby— g-gonna treat you so good, fuck- ma- you’re so pretty-”

you couldn’t help but reach your free hand up to squeeze your breasts, the feeling heating up the entirety of your body, you missed his warmth so badly.

your cunt was so achy, you needed something. hearing aces moans and whines on the other line made you squirm. his sweet nothings made the heartbeat in your core pound harder.

“haah— such a pretty girl mama, go ahead, ride your fingers.” instantly your fingers pushed into your plush walls, breathy moans flooding your empty room. “ace— miss you s-so much ahhh~♡”

ace adored you in this state, leaning forward for him, grinding pathetically on your hand, fuckk how he wished he was there. his phone eventually fell out of his hand, lazily placed on his blanket, he was barely in frame anymore.

your dirty pleads drove him crazy, he missed your pretty lips. he wanted to suck on them as he filled your weeping hole. he choked the base of his cock and stroked his shaft. he hasn’t touched himself in days, sticky precum was spilling everywhere, he was filled with so much fucking cum.

his motions grew faster as he pleaded your name. “fuck baby needya here~”

“ace haah- fuck! baby move your camera, wanna see you cum.” the little corner of your boyfriends face wasn’t enough. the way his cock twitched after he came made your tummy do flips. he fixed the position of his camera to show you all of him, he was a panting mess. sticky and disgusting, you loved it.

you rolled against your fingers as the tips pushed against your g spot, your moans consuming you. pumping in an out stretching yourself in all the right ways. “mmm baby i’m so c-close.” your legs trembled as your orgasm sparked within your cunt. aces filthy words edging you on, “fuck baby, just like that. you can do it haah- cmon~ for me?” his chest rose and fell with each pump of his fist. as he was close to his own, he talked you through your high. “cum- cum for me princess, get your clit baby.”

following his orders, you removed your fingers and rubbed circles against your nub swiftly. “aceee mmuuhhh ah~ gonna cum baby!”

your hole tightened round nothing as the wave in your stomach flooded your core, you rubbed faster.

ace was moaning loud on the line. his cock was so so sensitive, pretty veins decorated the sides. he grabbed his phone and flipped the camera to give you a better view. his moans were loud coming through your speakers, they were so sexy. he bit his bottom lip as he choked his throbbing cock.

“fuck y/n!- gunna cum! babyyyyy haaah-ha”.

his moans send vibrations to your cunt, pulsing with each breathy pant. you quickly put your fingers back in your sopping hole, pumping quickly. hearing him call out your name had you gushing around your trembling fingers.

you saw ropes of cum spill from your boyfriend pretty dick, pooling in the crevasses of his abs.

“such a pretty girl ma~ made a mess of me.” he giggled on the line as he flipped the camera back to his freckled face. seeing his reddened cheeks made you fall in love all over again. you giggled with him.

you hurried to clean up your hands and grab your phone. “my handsome boy~ i miss you ♡.”

“i miss you too princess. i love you.”

xxx

i would like ace as a bf please.

[starshipsofstarlord]

surrogate comfort

summary. daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

warnings. smut (just a little fem!reader receiving oral), angst, mentions and descriptions of abuse, commitment, young!daryl

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

An undeniable sensation pooled in the apex below your abdomen, causing your eyelids to flutter slowly open from your slumber. Your brows drew firmly together as your mouth gaped wildly open, releasing silent sounds of pleasured expression. But you were forced by the consuming reality in your brain to push the face that rested against your thighs, and the heavenly lips that had already landscaped the area of your cunt in prior situations.

Daryl hadn’t fallen asleep beside you, he had sullenly returned to his poisonous putridity of his home the eve before, dreading his father’s exploitive rage. As much as you wanted to continue receiving the fantastic oral that he was perfectly tainting your body with, you were commended by your saint lifestyle to shuffle away, rejecting his efforts of keeping his face attached to your most intimate area.

“D.” You addressed him by the initial, reaching beside you to pull at the dangling string of your bedside lamp so that the bulb would create an ambience that would aid your eyesight, rather than squinting in his direction through the consuming darkness. Daryl melted his face in the tousled sheets that rested raggedly beside your legs, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

He just wanted to see you, and get lost in one of his all time hobbies so that he wouldn’t need to bring acknowledgment to the repetitive reason as to why he had snuck in your home with the key that you had gifted him in the dead of night. “Daryl… look at me honey.” With concern filled empathy, you combed through his brunette locks with your fingers, squeezing your thighs together so that he wouldn’t be able to visualise his sacred escape for the moment.

This was important, far more important than any sexual activity. It took him a couple of minutes to finally build up the strength to comply with your soft demand; you weren’t forcing him, he was well aware of that fact, however he resented skulking away from your embracing and delicate nurturing, and thus he drew his face upwards, his blue and bruised eyes connecting with your orbs that unfortunately did not hold shock.

His father was sadistically cruel, he never let up on a chance to unleash his pent up frustrations and anger out on his sons, it was why Merle had joined the military - to escape the man that had raised them without any aspect of love. It didn’t matter that you were half nude due to his skilful appearance, you shuffled down the bed towards him, crossing your legs as you brushed your fingertips across his shoulder that was clothed in a shirt made of tired fabric, and he restrained a wince.

“Oh honey.” You cooed, seeing a horizon of purples and blues and deepening greys that harshened his features. “You can stay here, for as long as you need. I’d hate for you to keep going back there, so…” You braced yourself to say the words aloud, aware that Daryl was a young man whom was easily shaken. “Why don’t you move in?” You would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, no matter what situation that you found yourselves in.

Your blood boiled like there was a stove interlinking your veins to your arteries as you thought of any man bringing such abuse upon their child, but especially horrid old William and his treatment of Daryl. The bruised son’s lips conveyed his emotions in a wobbling manner, as he allowed his well constructed walls to lower, and water glazed in his eyes. He held you, and sobbed, and sobbed, until he was all out of frustrated tears, and you knew then, he would be using that silver key every day.

[jinwoosungs]

{ 139 }

a little unwell.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

“oh, it is just so terrible! you should have seen how much pain megumi was in!”

when gojo told you how your boyfriend had suffered some minor injuries due to developing a sudden fever while in the midst of a mission-

your heart already went into overdrive, as your mind kept playing all these tricks on you.

megumi probably lost his arm-

or lost his legs-

maybe he lost both of his arms and legs?!

your anxiety always spiked up into unreal levels of insanity anytime your loved ones got hurt, and you were vaguely aware of gojo’s explanation of your boyfriend’s situation before turning away from him. it was as though the teacher’s explanation was drowned out due to the blood that was felt rushing to your ears, pushing your body forward as you walked away from him.

it seemed as though you were running on autopilot, with your stiff legs taking you back to your room as you collected some necessities.

first and foremost, the neat first aid kit your mother had given you for your first day at tokyo jujutsu high was securely in your grasps as you grabbed other items to help with caring for megumi.

some of your favorite snacks,

an ice cold bottle of water,

and an extra blanket, just in case his fevered chills became too much to bear as his own paper thin blanket wasn’t sufficient enough in providing the comfort that you knew he needed.

your heart was still pounding within the confines of your chest, your veins filled with dread as you continued walking around the hallways of the dorm. finally, when his door was in front of you, you expected the worst the moment you opened the door and saw megumi.

so when you gently knock at the door before opening it, you could feel your breathing escape from your lungs like a deflated balloon.

so not only did gojo over-exaggerate the extent of megumi’s wounds (like he always does, just to tell a good story), but megumi appeared in perfect condition-

with both limbs attached.

you take a moment to admire him, simply leaning against the doorway as you trailed your eyes over his sleeping figure. his messy locks of hair remain mussed against the plush pillows, and his deep, sapphire eyes were kept hidden beneath trembling eyelids. his arms were kept almost stiffly by his sides while his legs were covered beneath his blanket. the only proof of an injury that you saw was a simple bandaid that was placed across his cheek.

with careful movements, you gently shut the door behind you and crept closer to him. despite the fact that you had tiptoed across the floors, you knew that your presence could be sensed by megumi as he opens up an eye to look at you.

“hey…” his voice was hoarse when he calls out your name, and upon closer inspection of his face, you could see how flushed his pale skin had become. you look over to his nightstand and see a full cup of lukewarm water along with an unopened packet of medicine tablets that were meant to help with his fever.

“hm… meg, why didn’t you take your pills yet?”

a soft grunt was heard coming from his chapped lips.

“can’t swallow that well yet… my throat burns.” megumi admits to you with a groan, which made your heart swell with love and empathy for him.

“would you like my help?”

you listen as your boyfriend lets out a series of coughs before looking at you. “what do you mean… by that?”

you flash him a cheshire grin before taking a hold of his tablets. ripping off a single dose, you open it before placing both tablets in your mouth. trying not to acknowledge the bitterness of the medicine, you proceed to open the bottle of water before taking a swig of it. megumi wasn’t given a chance to react when you suddenly hold his chin still, pressing your lips against his before transferring the medicine to him.

your hand against his throat was soothing and gentle, giving the base of it a series of gentle massages to ensure that megumi safely swallowed his medicine. when he pulls away from you first, you couldn’t help but smile down at him, basking in his reddened cheeks.

“see? that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“s-shut up!” he was still too shy to face you, making you giggle even more before leaning closer to him, pressing your lips against his cheek in a sweet kiss.

you end up giving the rest of the cold bottled water to him, allowing the liquid to ease the soreness of his throat. because of how deeply you loved him, you even gave him the rest of your soft served strawberry ice cream as well!

after you spoil him a bit with your snacks, megumi ends up wrapping his arms around your back suddenly, making you nearly fall to the ground had it not been for his tight grip on you.

“what… megumi?!”

a light sheen of sweat was seen on his features, and he was breathing heavily when he uses the rest of his strength to pull you even closer to him. he was panting, yet still, his arms around you remained tight, as if he never wanted to let you go.

“just… stay here… with me, okay…?”

even when he was feeling sick, megumi still manages to press a gentle kiss against your hair, the gentle touch of affection still being proof of his love for you when words never could come easy for him.

“okay…” was your simple reply, allowing your beloved boyfriend to press your form against his heated body. now comforted by your presence, he finally closes his eyes, his body seeming to curl around you as the sounds of his breathing were all that were heard from within the dorm.

you take a moment to run your hands across his damp brow, slowly massaging the frown out of his sleeping face as his expression finally turns into a more peaceful one. letting out one last giggle, you sigh and fall back into his embrace, finally falling asleep as you allowed megumi to seek comfort from your presence alone.

a.n. - lol, i finally took a break from my jinwoo haze to write about the best jjk boi in the entire world, so please enjoy this short drabble… megumi needs to rest,,,, he’s been through far too much 😭😭😭😭😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[wonusdoll]

FLOWERS • PJS

Synopsis: Jisungs a hopeless romantic and gets jealous easily

Content: fluff! cavity inducing fluff so fluffy i wanna cry

pairing: Childhood Bestfriend!Jisung x reader

notes+ WHY DOES NOBODY WRITE FOR JISUNGGGG i had to take matters into my own hands so here you go :D this was originally gonna contain smut but i couldnt help myself with the fluff anyways, enjoy!!

You and Jisung weren't always friends. When your mom introduced her best friends second grader son, 4th grade you didn't mind. Until he started playing with your stuff, jumping on your bed, stealing your snacks, and blaming you on things he did and getting you in trouble.

Naturally, you started resenting him, dreading when he would come over, and chose to ignore him at school, finding it embarrassing whenever he would go over to you and your friends at the playground and ask to play with them. your friends found him cute, but you, you hated him.

Going into your middle school years, he slowly got more tolerable. He started understanding boundaries but still was the same annoying little kid.

In some point of time, Jisung turned from an annoying little kid who yelled and cried all the time to one of your closest friends. And then when he finally started high school, you guys started hanging out willingly, without his mom forcing him to go over.

Some days you would catch him in your living room watching tv with your dog, or accidentally walking in on him showering in your bathroom, or in your kitchen making ramen. Sometimes he would bring his friends over to your house. You honestly didn't mind that much as long as they never broke anything, or disturbed her in any way, which jisung made sure never happened.

"Jisung?? That you??" You yelled from the top of the stairs after hearing feet shuffling and the front door opening and closing. The two of you made plans to watch horror movies and have a sleepover to celebrate the new season of autumn.

"Nope!" Jisung yelled back, making you go downstairs with a grin. But you immediately furrowed your brows and bit your inner cheek, upon seeing 6 other people. you knew them, jisung would bring them around sometimes but you didn’t know them.

"Jisung, whats going on?"

He grinned annoyingly cutely back and held up some convenience store bags up and nodded towards his friends, "They wanted to hang out but my mom banned us from the house after last time.”

You scoff and look at him like he was crazy, "What- are you kidding me?" You say just above a whisper, flickering your eyes between him and the guys behind him, "I thought we were gonna hang out?? You didn't even ask if it was okay to bring them over? if you wanted to hang out with them instead you should've just told me."

With a smirk, jisung was much closer than you remember him being, he tucked a few stray strands of your hand back, "I'm sorry princess i should have asked, hm? If we're too much of a bother we'll quiet down okay?" He pulled away and looked into your eyes, pleading and begging for uou to say yes.

You mask your flustered state with a sigh and wiping your face with your hand as if annoyed.

"Fine, whatever, just— leave me alone im gonna go study" you warn making him grin and ruffle your hair, juxtaposing his previous act. He's called you princess numerous times before, even when you guys were kids but in that tone, that voice, and devilish smile, it felt different.

You wanted to tell him off for joking around with you like that, making you feel that way. It was something you always felt around him but maybe it was his perfectly messy hair, his oversized hoodie making him look so comfy, his soft plump lips, or his hand in your hair, or the name he called you, but the feeling became overwhelmingly strong, like when a candles been burning for hours and slowly the fire grows bigger and it fills the whole room with its pleasant fumes.

You hung around with them for a bit when you took a break from studying because you couldn't focus. but the reason you couldnt focus was sitting right across from you on the couch, sending lingering glances everybody noticed.

When he catches your gaze you turn away with a light blush but when you catch his, he doesnt shy away, keeping eye contact with you with a look in his eye that you couldnt read for the first time.

In the time you got to formally meet his best friends, you surprisingly got along with all of them. Huang Renjun was the one who stuck out the most out of the 7, other than Jisung who kept eyes on you the whole time.

You got to have a one on one conversation with Renjun about each others favorite music artists, which were quite similar, and art itself. You were already interested in art but with the knowledge and story telling Renjun excitedly provided made you want to learn more. So you guys planned a hang out the next day to an art museum Renjun was fond and familiar with. 

You posted the day out with him on your story with Art Deco - Lana Del Rey in the background.

Jisung always made sure to heart and reply to your story even if it was as simple as an ootd, but this time he didn't. You furrowed your brows and looked at the views and there he was, also active. You tried texting him regularly but you were left on delivered until 7 hours later but all you got was a

"sorry lol"

It hurt your feelings, you couldn't lie. So you texted him again not even 5 seconds later.

"too busy being active to answer? lmfao"

He leaves it on read for a few minutes before replying

"too busy hanging out with renjun? yk we all made plans tgt”

You scoff at his attitude

"whats your problem?? it was HIS choice to hang out with ME. not like you wanted to."

"chill out i just wanted them to meet you, didn't know you were gonna be all over them tho"

"fuck you."

You threw your phone at the end of the bed and hug your pillow against your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know why you were so affected by his words, usually you wouldn't even press him so much about not answering, and would just leave him alone but seeing him be so uninterested left a mark on you.

A few nights later you were watching a scary movie in the darkness of your living room when you heard knocks on your front door. you paused the movie to make sure it wasn't from the tv, and when they come again, you look at the time.

"Who's here at 11:30 at night" You whisper to yourself and cautiously approach the door.

Thunder suddenly struck making you whimper and jump back, but you decide to just rip the bandaid off, after all horror movies aren't real right?

"Jisung?!" You exclaim, seeing him standing there out in the pouring rain with his head down ashamed.

"Hey.."

You quickly let him in, taking his soaked coat off and telling him to wait while you get a towel.

He was silent while you scolded him for being out in the rain so late without so much as an umbrella.

He finally brung his hands from behind his back, revealing your favorite flowers in an articulated assorted bouquet wrapped in paper.

"Sorry if they're kind of ruined.. I ran all the way here" He sniffles and scratched his nape awkwardly.

You bite your lip remembering your last interaction, "You wanna tell me why?"

"I'm sorry y/n im so sorry im such a fucking loser and a coward for getting mad at you  I never wanted to hurt you i just was so angry that you hung out with Renjun that i took it out on you without thinking and ive been trying to figure out how to apologize to you so i went to the flower shop like 10 times in the past 2 days because i wanted to get you flowers but you have 5 different favorite flowers so i got 5 different bouquets for you then realized that was too much so i just got one with 2 of your favorites but felt bad that i left out the other 3 so i got another one with all of them but they didn't look good so i spent the whole day learning how to make a bouquet to make it perfect for you then realized it was already night and thundering and you hate thunder so i ran all the way here and now they look horrible and ugly and-"

"JISUNG." You put a stop to his rant with a chuckle and put your hands on his pink dusted cheeks. He pants out and looks in your eyes to find any anger or disgust in them but you were smiling, "Hey its okay, i promise its okay," You take the flowers from his hands and bring them up to your face to smell them, "they're beautiful ji, seriously."

He takes another pan over your face to scan your expression to really make sure you weren't mad and one he realized that, he lets out the breath he was holding and chuckles, then laughs a bit harder.

You laugh along with him then card your fingers through his wet hair, "Did you really learn how to make a bouquet of flowers for me? And run all the way here in the rain?" You ask, softly now.

He smiles and takes your hand away to hold it instead, "Yeah.. you know i would swim across the whole ocean just to get these to you. Also whats wrong with learning a new skill, i always wanted to learn how to.. make assorted flowers.." He dryly chuckles at the end.

you could hear your heart thumping out of your chest when you feel the pressure of his eyes staring into your own, as if trying to answer a question he hasn't asked. so you ask your own.

"Jisung," You start making him nod, "Why were you so upset?" You ask, making you swallow thickly.

and suddenly you're hyper aware of everything going on, your breathing, your blinking, the rain and thunder, his facial expressions, his thumb caressing your hand.

Jisung doesnt answer for a second, trying to find the right words. His mouth was drying up, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he gulped.

He was now holding your hand with both of his hands, "I love you." he blurted, "I love you and Im selfish and only want you to myself, I just wanted to treasure you for my myself and not let other people see how amazing and perfect you are because i was scared you'd fall for them and forget about me so when i saw you were with renjun and saw how excited you were to talk to him and hang out with him i felt.. rejected? in a way? like he had something i didn't to make you feel that way. So i was sad and upset and jealous— god, i was so unbelievably jealous, and i know im not allowed to because we're only best friends and you're allowed to be friends and talk to anybody you want to but i just- i just didn't want you to notice anyone else, and leave me.."

He ended his rant with a sigh and closed his eyes shut, mentally preparing for you to laugh in his face and friend-zone him, but it never came.

When he opened his eyes you were just standing there, not saying anything, with a smile on your face.

You giggled as he looked at you with an expectant look.

“Okay.”

His brows furrowed and his hand started slipping from yours “That- thats it? Just okay? You couldn’t have let me down any better-“

“Okay, I wont leave you.”

His expression softened, watching as you laughed and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest, “Jisung park, I will never leave you and you can never leave me, if you do i’ll have to kill you.” You tried to threaten him but he just found you adorable, and picked you up in his arms.

You guys laughter filled the room, bouncing around the rooms, sounding almost louder than the rain and thunder.

Suddenly, your enemy turned into your bestfriend who turned into your lover. And you couldn’t have it any other way.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

A Mended Heart || D. Targaryen x oc, Robb Stark x oc

GIF by @lady-arryn DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: Alysanne's marriage to her older brother, Daemon was once full of prosperity. As thirteen years and six children pass by, their marriage starts to crumble, his loyalty was nowhere to be found and so an annulment was requested. Years later when Daemon's second wife, Laena, dies tragically, the Prince attempts to rekindle his relationship with his dear sister. But is she willing to leave the life she built in Winterfell?

a/n: note that this a request!! i just made it into a lil series :)

P.t 1

"An annulment?" Viserys' eyebrows raises at his brother's absurdity. "She's our sister, your wife, and mother to your children, Daemon. What possible reason do you-" "People change, brother." The Prince taps his finger on the table, already bored and wanting to leave.

Viserys sighs, his hands rubbing his forehead. "And she agreed?" A scoff leaves Daemon's lips. "Whether or not she fucking agrees is her problem. I get to make this decision, not her." He spat, the King was baffled at the words of younger brother. He was treating their sister as if she was simply a commoner.

"And what of the children?" Daemon's mind goes to the image of his six children. A sigh leaves his lips, his head leaning back on the chair, "They are mine. But Alysanne will take them, and, they are still my heirs." Although their marriage was going to be annulled, he still loved his children. They still hold their titles as Prince's and Princess's.

Viserys nods. "I had hoped you and Alysanne were to be together till death parted with the two of you. Please, think about what your wanting to do right now, brother. For the sake of me, Alysanne, your children!" Viserys pleaded, he did not want his family crumbling apart because of this.

"We were always told we were to marry since birth. We were forced into this. |love her as my blood, my sister, but we weren't made to marry each other." Daemon voiced out. The elder lets out a sigh of defeat. "I cannot force you to stay in a marriage with her, but please, I do not want this to be the reason our family is split apart," the King sternly says as Daemon gets up from his seat.

"Of course, your Grace," He bows his head and leaves the room. Viserys watched with sadden eyes, saddened for his younger sister.

"It's done. We are free from each other," Daemon leans back on the chair, his voice flat. Alysanne rolls her eyes as she continues her embroidery. "Where are the children?" He questions, "With their wet nurse, why?" She finally looks at him. "To say goodbye." He stands up, the Targaryen Princess furrowed her eyebrows at him “Where are you going?" Daemon chuckles, "To Dragonstone, sister. Do you think I would stay here in King's Landing?"

Alysanne was surprised that Daemon was leaving so quickly. She did not care though. "No. I know how much you dread it here," She mutters, her hands back working on embroidering. Daemon looks stares at her. She could feel his stare so she looks up with a sigh. "Yes?"

"Goodbye then. Let me remind you that I get to see our children whenever I want-“ “Yes yes I know. You've not only told me about a hundred times Daemon. I'm not cruel, they're still your children," Alysanne replies, annoyed at the constant remindering. "Good, l'll be on my way" He nods curtly at before walking to her.

He awkwardly stands infront of her. Her gaze on his shoes before she turns her head and lets him kiss her on the cheek. Although they used to be Husband and Wife, they were still Brother and Sister. No words were exchanged and Daemon left what used to be their shared bedchambers.

As she sat there alone, she pondered back on their marriage. It was once filled with prosperity but things changed. They both changed. She never forgot how loved she felt from Daemon or how loving he was to their children. His loyalties changed, and they both mutually agreed that this would be for the best.

Alysanne didn't realise she was crying until she felt something wet on her cheeks. "Mother?" Her sons voice called out as she quickly wiped the salty tears away. "Yes, darling" She smiled at her eldest son who was ten-and-two. "Why is father going to Dragonstone without us?" He asks as the Princess moves aside to let him sit beside her.

She smiled, her hands brushing through his blonde hair. "Because your father is staying there from now on, okay?”He still loves you all very much but it is best he stays there and I, here with you all." Her hand moves to his chin to make him look at her. Aegon slowly nods.

"Come on, I think we should go for our walk now," She says brightly, setting down her embroidery, but Aegon doesn't budge. "Father won't be there," He points out. Alysanne sighed, sitting back down. They would all walk together every afternoon when they can, with all the children. But now that Daemon was gone, it was only to be Alysanne and her children.

"Why don't we ask uncle if he would like to join us?" She suggests, attempting to cheer Aegon up. He thinks before nodding. Of course, Viserys was more than happy to go on a family stroll with his sister and nieces and nephews.

"What a fine day it is today isn't it, children?" Alysanne smiles at them as they reply with yes. "What do you plan on doing now, sister?" Viserys asks, Alysanne’s youngest, Visenya in his arms. She sighs, watching her twins, Rhaena and Baela chasing after each other.

"I'm still the Princess, brother. I have many options." She assures him with a smile for Alysanne knew that Viserys was worried. “Oh stop worrying about Daemon and I Viserys. You have more urgent things to worry about as King. We will greatly benefit from this, I can assure you" She pats his arm, “If you say so" The King sighs as Alysanne walks ahead to catch up with the rest of her children.

~

2 months later…

“You look handsome, sweet boy” Alysanne kisses the crown of her Daeron’s head. He was sat on her lap as she brushed through his hair, he was dressed handsomely for the celebration of Rhaenyra’s name day.

Before the Princess could say anything, a knock comes from the door. It was her handmaiden, Dyana. “Princess, I have news” She bows as she urges forward to Alysanne. “What is it?” She asks, intrigued. Dyana awkwardly looks to Daeron who was busy playing with the jewellery on the table.

“I think it’s best if Prince Daeron leaves the room,” She quietly says, her gaze stuck on the floor. Alysanne gives her a skeptical looks but nonetheless takes her advice. “Ser Harwin!” She calls out and the door immediately opens revealing her sworn protector. “You wouldn’t mind if you watched Daeron for a bit would you?” A kind smile makes it to her pink lips.

“Not at all, Princess,” Harwin sends back a smile, “Come one Daeron,” He beckons the young boy as he happily runs to Harwin. After the sound of the door shut was heard, Alysanne focuses her attention back on Dyana. “Now tell me,” “Prince Daemon is betrothed to Laena Velaryon,”

It didn’t faze the Princess that Daemon was already betrothed to another. It did surprise her though, how quickly her brother moved on. Alysanne chuckled, “Oh Dyana, you know I care little of what my brother does. Are they expecting a child yet?” She jokingly says, turning around to choose out her jewellery.

The Targaryen was met with silence. Her eyes move up to the mirror to look at Dyana. “Yes, they are.” She quietly answers. Alysanne did not expect the answer but yet again, she was not much surprised. “Well, I am happy for them. Laena is a sweet girl,” Alysanne smiles, fidgeting with the necklace.

Dyana studies the Princess, she seemed bothered. The door opened, “Princess, the celebrations are to start soon” Harwin says as Daeron peaks his head in the room. “Wonderful,” Getting up from her seat, she takes ahold of Daeron’s hand and leaves the room. Ser Harwin close behind.

It pained the heart of Alyssane in an unexplainable way. Maybe it was because it had only been 2 months since the annulment of their marriage and that he had moved on so quickly from her. Though they used to be husband and wife, Daemon was still her older brother. And she still loved him as an older brother.

Walking into the throne room where Rhaenyra’s celebration was held, Alysanne was accompanied by Ser Harwin Strong. Her six children, Aegon, Visenya, Daeron, Rhaena, Baela, and her youngest—only 10 months old—Maegor with her. It never failed to amaze the realm how much Daemon and Alysanne’s children looked like them.

They were spitting images of their parents and a nod to the people of old Valyria. “Sister,” Viserys stands from his seat and places a kiss on Alysanne’s cheek. “Brother,” She smiles back, sitting down at the Royal table. The celebrations commenced and it was in full swing.

The thought of Daemon marrying and expecting a child still lingered in the Princess’ mind. Biting her lip constantly and tapping her finger on the table, Viserys noticed the signs of his sister’s anxiousness. “Are you alright?” He leans to her and speaks in a hushed tone.

Stopping her finger tapping, she sends Viserys a look before facing the front and sighing. “Our dear brother has remarried,” The King sighs, shakes his head and takes a sip of his mead, “And they are expecting a child.” Alysanne finishes, this time it was her turn to drink the alcohol as Viserys stares wide-eyed at his sister.

He knew what kind of person Daemon was, but lately it seemed like he doesn’t know what Daemon has become. Viserys holds Alysanne’s hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “I can always make that child illegitimate you know? Aegon is your firstborn, a male. And all your children are heirs-“ Alysanne laughs at her brother.

“Viserys, you know if you did that, you would be denying your own blood. I am not worried about Daemon’s heirs with Laena, he too knows that Aegon is the heir and so are our 5 other children. He would be a fool to not acknowledge that” Her eyes stay focused on her children dancing.

Viserys smiles and nods, “Yes, you are right. Like you always are, sister” He pats her hand and the two siblings smile at each other. Conversations fell on the Royal table before a man presents himself in front of Viserys and Alysanne. “Lord Stark, what a pleasure seeing you here!” Viserys smiles at the insanely handsome man standing there.

Alysanne listen quitely, Robb’s and her eyes often connecting. “Yes, always a pleasure to come visit King’s Landing, Your Grace” He chuckles, showcasing his pearly white smile. Then his attention shifts to the Princess. “Princess,” He bows his head at her as she does the same,

“My Lord, how is business up in the North? I’ve always been meaning to come visit with my children. Visenya loves the snow,” Alysanne smiles, her mind going back to her second eldest.

Robb stares with a wide smile at the Targaryen Princess. Something, only Viserys notices. Truth be told, whenever Robb was in King’s Landing, his eyes never seem to keep themselves off of Alysanne. She was beautiful, the realm’s beauty they would call her.

The Stark man was an honourable and respectful man so he never initiated anything with the then married Princess. When news arrived at Winterfell that the Princess and Prince’s marriage was annulled, Robb was secretly celebrating.

Viserys’ yes move back and forth from the Lord of Winterfell and his younger sister. “The children seem to be having fun dancing,” He comments with a mischievous look. Alysanne hums mindlessly. Robb chuckles to himself, giving a nod to the King as a small thanks. “Might I have a dance, Princess?”

[alexisomnias]

  "LOVE RED" . . .

⤷ blade realizes he loves you, and he has loved you

requested by @/lilyred ,,,

B L A D E was not someone who showed many strong feelings. If anything, he had a difficult time getting attached to things. No attachment, means no weaknesses, and for an immortal who can't die in the first place he isn't a willing man to the act of breaking down in grief of any sorts, more then he needs. Though... then he met you.

You. The causation of why his heart soars to high skies, oh how he hopes he can make a safe landing back down. Blade could've kept these feelings to himself, let this "love" for you pass by as if it didn't even exist. Yet, the more he kept it in a locked box, the more his heart pounded to escape. How could a man with the curse of life, hurt so bad?

Oh well blame the god awful existence of romantic pining!

It took Blade quite a bit of time to recognize his feelings truly. Not particularly because they were hidden away from him, more because he didn't want to believe in them. He wanted to deny until he manifested it, and such opinions became facts. Yet the day never came, and after months upon months of letting his heart reach out to your hand, his soul singing praises upon how stunning you always look.

Well, by then denying seemed like it would be impossible to do for any longer, the denial would come up empty on his tongue once you are in his sights.

Oh Blade must look like a lovesick fool in front of you, huh?

Blade never viewed himself as a wimpy man, not at all. He was a sword, a weapon used for battles. Winning and cutting through, but then... why does this fight against confession and vulnerability scare him so much?

How confusing, and annoying this is. He thinks to himself, as his eyes lock onto yours. 

He was in deep, wasn't he? he could ask himself that, and the answers would come from his beating heart that gains a voice to sing when you speak to him, burning soul with flush whenever you meet his eyes.

the question grew, expanding from whether he loved you too, how was he supposed to tell you without completely, and utterly fucking it up?

well, he could of course go the blunt way, but that's not special is it? so it wouldn’t be memorable. He could also consider doing something grand but that's not really his style… ugh he’s thinking to hard about this, isn't he?

He never realized a confession of feeling was so difficult until meeting you. He knows no roses, or words placed onto paper could summarize how much he cares for you. You give him resurfaces of his mortal life, and even past mortality, the thing he dreads, he knows he loves you.

when he glances over at you, he feels alive. like his blood flows normally, and there's life springing in his body. a difference to the dead emptiness he’s so used to feeling for years upon years. a void that has finally been filled, you are the piece of his life that refills him and makes him whole. this recognition is a clear truth for when he looks at you, he loves again.

 Blade, Ren, wishes to tell you before its too late, and you’ve slipped away from him before he’s able to utter “i love you.”

[dailyadventureprompts]

Tableskills: Creating Dread

I've often had a lot of problems telling scary stories at my table, whether it be in d&d or other horror focused games. I personally don't get scared easily, especially around "traditionally horrifying" things so it's hard for me to recreate that experience in others. Likewise, you can't just port horror movie iconography into tabletop and expect it to evoke genuine fear: I've already spoken of being bored out of my mind during the zombie apocalypse, and my few trips into ravenloft have all been filled with similar levels of limp and derivative grimdark.

It took me a long time (and a lot of video essays about films I'd never watched) to realize that in terms of an experience fear is a lot like a joke, in that it requires multiple steps of setup and payoff. Dread is that setup, it's the rising tension in a scene that makes the revelation worth it, the slow and literal rising of a rollercoaster before the drop. It's way easier to inspire dread in your party than it is to scare them apropos of nothing, which has the added flexibility of letting you choose just the right time to deliver the frights.

TLDR: You start with one of the basic human fears (guide to that below) to emotionally prime your players and introduce it to your party in a initially non-threataning manor. Then you introduce a more severe version of it in a way that has stakes but is not overwhelmingly scary just yet. You wait until they're neck deep in this second scenario before throwing in some kind of twist that forces them to confront their discomfort head on.

More advice (and spoilers for The Magnus Archives) below the cut.

Before we go any farther it's vitally important that you learn your party's limits and triggers before a game begins. A lot of ttrpg content can be downright horrifying without even trying to be, so it's critical you know how everyone in your party is going to react to something before you go into it. Whether or not you're running an actual horror game or just wanting to add some tension to an otherwise heroic romp, you and your group need to be on the same page about this, and discuss safety systems from session 0 onwards.

The Fundamental Fears: It may seem a bit basic but one of the greatest tools to help me understand different aspects of horror was the taxonomy invented by Jonathan Sims of The Magnus Archives podcast. He breaks down fear into different thematic and emotional through lines, each given a snappy name and iconography that's so memorable that I often joke it's the queer-horror version of pokemon types or hogwarts houses. If we start with a basic understanding of WHY people find things scary we learn just what dials we need turn in order to build dread in our players.

Implementation: Each of these examples is like a colour we can paint a scene or encounter with, flavouring it just so to tickle a particular, primal part of our party's brains. You don't have to do much, just something along the lines of "the upcoming cave tunnel is getting a little too close for comfort" or "the all-too thin walkway creaks under your weight ", or "what you don't see is the movement at the edge of the room". Once the seed is planted your party's' minds will do most of the work: humans are social, pattern seeking creatures, and the hint of danger to one member of the group will lay the groundwork of fear in all the rest.

The trick here is not to over commit, which is the mistake most ttrpgs make with horror: actually showing the monster, putting the party into a dangerous situation, that’s the finisher, the  punchline of the joke. It’s also a release valve on all the pressure you’ve been hard at work building.

There’s nothing all that scary about fighting a level-appropriate number of skeletons, but forcing your party to creep through a series of dark, cobweb infested catacombs with the THREAT of being attacked by undead? That’s going to have them climbing the walls.

Let narration and bad dice rolls be your main tools here, driving home the discomfort, the risk, the looming threat.

Surprise: Now that you’ve got your party marinating in dread, what you want to do to really scare them is to throw a curve ball. Go back to that list and find another fear which either compliments or contrasts the original one you set up, and have it lurking juuuust out of reach ready to pop up at a moment of perfect tension like a jack in the box. The party is climbing down a slick interior of an underdark cavern, bottom nowhere in sight? They expect to to fall, but what they couldn't possibly expect is for a giant arm to reach out of the darkness and pull one of them down. Have the party figured out that there's a shapeshifter that's infiltrated the rebel meeting and is killing their allies? They suspect suspicion and lies but what they don't expect is for the rebel base to suddenly be on FIRE forcing them to run.

My expert advice is to lightly tease this second threat LONG before you introduce the initial scare. Your players will think you're a genius for doing what amounts to a little extra work, and curse themselves for not paying more attention.

Restraint: Less is more when it comes to scares, as if you do this trick too often your players are going to be inured to it. Try to do it maybe once an adventure, or dungeon level. Scares hit so much harder when the party isn't expecting them. If you're specifically playing in a "horror" game, it's a good idea to introduce a few false scares, or make multiple encounters part of the same bait and switch scare tactic: If we're going into the filthy gross sewer with mould and rot and rats and the like, you'll get more punch if the final challenge isn't corruption based, but is instead some new threat that we could have never prepared for.

Art

[willalove75]

would you write alci breastfeeding y/n after an exhausting day? something cuter

Absolutely! Thanks so much for the request!💕

Warnings: Breastfeeding (I guess it needs a warning? Idk.)

A/n: This is my first time writing something like this so go easy on me😅😂 ALSO I feel like it's been a HOT minute since I've done a Lady D ask! I've been super slacking lolzzzz sorry💕

Today sucked to say the least. You were helping Alcina with some of her tasks to ease her burden. Normally you don't have a tough time with the things she asks you to do, most of the time you actually enjoy helping her; being able to organize files, help her with paperwork, running errands. But today you were tasked with speaking with the mayor about current events in the village. As one of the four Lords, it was Alcina's responsibility to keep an eye on and maintain a healthy relationship with the village and the village mayor. You had accompanied Alcina to these meetings enough times where Alcina felt you were ready to conduct it on your own. Of course you were nervous, but you felt ready.

The ride there was uncomfortable - uncomfortable being an understatement. Over the winter the roads have deteriorated greatly and haven't been tended to so they were uneven and filled with potholes. You made sure to make note of that and make sure the mayor was aware of the situation and knows he needs to fix it.

It's not that you were dreading this meeting, but the mayor was known for being a bastard. Part of the reason that Alcina always attended these meetings was because of his notorious attitude but he always acted on his best behavior around Alcina - or else he'd run the very real and serious risk of losing a limb, or worse.

When you finally arrived in the village the people walking around slowed and carefully eyed the carriage, expecting Lady Dimitrescu to step out of it. When you stepped out alone most of the villagers went back to whatever they were doing. A few brave - or stupid - villagers decided to voice their opinions of you since the Lady wasn't around. Calling you a traitor or the demon's whore or any other colorful names they could come up with. You ignored them and made your way into the village hall where the mayor's office was.

The meeting sucked, badly. The moment the mayor realized you were alone he was the king of bastards once more. He spoke down to you the entire time, even after reminding him that everything that is said and how it was said at this meeting would be reported back to Lady Dimitrescu. The man was dumber than you thought, since the threat of Lady Dimitrescu wasn't in his immediate vicinity, there might as well be no threat at all.

Everything you brought up to him was mocked. Even things that were seriously wrong with the village he didn't take seriously. The mayor wasn't a big man, but he was definitely taller and bigger than you. Something he used to his advantage when you threatened him with the wrath of your Lady. He practically backed you into a corner while he shouted at you and threatened to put his hands on you. He even made a comment about the kind of lover you must be if you were able to satisfy the Lady and how he would like a taste for himself. It took everything in you to not show fear or cry. No tears fell but you felt them welling up in your eyes and the fear might as well have been radiating off of you as he invaded your space.

After that you gathered your things, thanked him for his time, told him you would be reporting everything back to the Lady and tried your best to keep yourself together until you got into the carriage.

You wanted to stop by one of the shops and pick up Alcina and the girls something and grab something to eat but you were too distraught. The moment the carriage door closed the tears started falling and you knocked on the wall three times to signal the driver to head back to the castle.

The ride home was arguably worse than the ride there. Not only was it just as bumpy as the ride there, but you cried for more than half of the time it took you to get home.

The gates of the castle finally came into view and you've never felt such relief. The carriage barely came to a stop when you jumped out of it - not bothering to wait for the driver to open the door for you.

You were exhausted, angry and still rattled by everything that happened with the mayor. All you wanted was Alcina. You needed her to comfort you, make you feel better, hold you and give you kisses and make all of the bad feelings go away. You needed her to care for you and you desperately hoped she wasn't too busy because it was something you needed now more than ever.

"Good evening." The head maid said as you entered the castle. "How was your trip?"

"It sucked. Do you know where Alcina is?"

"I believe she's in her chambers, she received a phone call."

"Thank you."

You beeline it upstairs to your shared chambers and enter the room, quickly closing the door behind you.

Alcina was sitting at her vanity with the phone receiver to her ear. When she heard the door open she looked in it's direction, when she realized it was you you saw her begin to smile. The moment she realized your distressed state her smile quickly faded and she had a look of concern in her eyes. She turns back towards the mirror and her posture stiffens.

"Yes Mother Miranda, I will keep you informed. I'm sorry Mother Miranda but something came up and I must be going. I understand, I apologize for cutting our incredibly important conversation short but I believe there's a trespasser in the castle I must see to. Thank you Mother Miranda. I will. Goodbye." She hangs up and turns back towards you. "Draga mea, what's wrong? What happened?" Her eyes were wide with worry and you couldn't hold back your tears anymore. You run towards her and she lifts you into her arms and cradles the back of your head. "What happened? Are you hurt? Who did this to you?" You hear the concern in her voice and bury your face into her neck.

"I'm not hurt." You said.

"Who upset you so my love? Did something happen in the village?" You shake your head no. "Please, iubirea mea, tell me what happened."

"The mayor is such a fucking asshole." You cry into her.

"What did he do?" She asks, her voice cold. "Did he hurt you? Did that filthy man thing lay his disgusting hands on you?"

"No." You begin recounting what happened from the moment you left the castle to the moment you left the village hall practically in tears. As you tell her what happened in the mayors office her grip around you tightens. When you tell her that he backed you into a corner and threatened you, that he said that he wanted a taste of you for himself Alcina was shaking with anger.

"That bastard!! How DARE he. How dare he threaten you in such a manner. That man will pay for what he's done." You can feel her heartbeat going berserk inside of her chest and her breath becoming labored. "Don't worry draga, I am going down there right this second and he will regret-"

"No, please don't. Please don't leave." You say as you cry and cling to her dress.

"Draga he has to pay for what he's done-"

"I know but please just stay with me right now. Please. I need you. I don't want to be alone. I just want you right now."

Your confession, your desperate plea for Alcina to stay with you washes over her like a warm summer breeze. The anger that's radiating off of her right now begins to diminish and she takes a deep breath and holds you tight.

"Okay draga. He will be dealt with first thing tomorrow morning. I won't leave you iubirea mea, I promise." She kisses your temple and her lips linger on your skin for a few moments. "What do you need me to do, draga?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to care for you? How about a bath and some warm pajamas?" You nod your head into her neck and she smiles and stands with you in her arms.

Alcina prepares a bath and once the water is warm and the tub is full she undresses you and places you in the tub. She washes your hair, massaging your scalp as she rubs the shampoo in and combs through your hair with care after she puts the conditioner in. She washes your body with your favorite soaps from her collection she knows you love. After your bath she wraps you in a giant fluffy towel, dries you off and dresses you in your favorite pajamas.

As she's caring for you, Alcina can feel her breasts starting to fill and then leak a little. The care she's giving you is something that comes so natural to her and her regenerative properties cause her to produce milk every time she acts maternally - towards anyone.

It was something she kept to herself until you found out about it on accident. When she breastfed you for the first time she felt a relief, both physical and emotional. It felt right to her, being able to nurture you in such a way that was so intimate but not sexually. And the physical relief if brought to her breasts could have made her cry. If she went too long without expelling the milk her breasts would ache something terrible.

She did her best to ignore the fullness in her chest as she laid you on her chest and rubbed circles across your back in bed.

Alcina definitely helped you relax, you were way less distraught and upset than you were when you first got back. Now you were just exhausted.

"Is there anything else you need draga mea?" She asks.

You shake your head no and let out a sigh as you melt into her embrace. Just as you feel yourself falling asleep a loud growl rips through your stomach and you suddenly realize how hungry you are.

"Draga did you have dinner?"

"No, I forgot. I was gonna stop and eat something in the village but I was so upset I just wanted to come home."

"Oh draga, let me have a maid bring you something."

"That's okay, I'm not in the mood for eating." You say as your stomach grumbles again.

"Clearly you are hungry, draga mea. You have to eat something." You shrug your shoulders and nuzzle into her neck. The pressure in Alcina's breasts increases at the action and she shifts to make herself more comfortable. She's breastfed you before, but for some reason she's still feels embarrassed each time she suggests it. Even though she knows that it would both feed you and bring you extra comfort. "What if - if you're not up for a proper dinner, do you want me to feed you?"

You can hear the hesitation in her voice, you know how sensitive of a topic this is for her but you love that she suggests it regardless of her hesitation. Nodding your head yes, Alcina kisses you on the head and sits you up in her lap. She reaches behind her back and pulls down the zipper of her dress and slides her arms out of the sleeves. After the fabric pools around her waist she reaches behind her back once more and unclips her bra. She removes her bra and you're face-to-face with her massive, amazing breasts.

"Ready, draga?" She asks and you nod your head.

Alcina cradles you in the crook of her arm and guides her nipple into your mouth. You immediately latch on and begin to suck, warm milk spilling out into your mouth. Alcina sighs from the relief of the pressure and sits back against the headboard. She runs her fingers through your hair and smiles, happy that she is able to care for you in such a way - especially when you needed it so badly.

Warm milk fills your empty belly and you hum in response. You feel Alcina's fingers comb through your hair and you close your eyes, relaxing into her touch as you continue to drink from her breast. The steady flow of milk begins to thin and eventually stops, no matter how much you suck at her hardened nipple.

"Still hungry iubirea mea?" She asks.

"Mhm."

"Okay love, one second."

Alcina turns you and cradles you in her other arm and once again guides her nipple into your eager mouth. Latching on again, you continue to drink the steady flow of milk from her breast.

"Good girl, that's it my love. Eat as much as you need. You and I both know I have no issues with shortages." She says and you giggle into her skin as you drink.

The warmth in your belly spreads throughout your body, to your limbs, to your fingers and toes, to your head and your face. With the warmth comes the exhaustion you were feeling earlier and your eyes begin to slowly close.

Alcina notices your suckling getting lighter and lighter before stopping altogether. Looking down at you, she finds you asleep with her nipple still in your mouth and a steam of milk down your cheek. She lightly chuckles before pulling you back and wiping away the milk with her thumb.

The movement and the sensation of her wiping her thumb across your cheek stirs you awake and you look up at her with tired eyes.

"Are you full draga mea?"

"Mhm." You mumble as you nod your head yes.

"Good." She says caressing your face. "Go to sleep iubirea mea."

Alcina moves to lay you on the bed but you cling to her.

"Stay." You say, your voice barely a whisper.

"I will be right back, I promise. I am going to put my nightgown on and get ready for bed and I will be right back. Okay?"

You sleepily nod your head and Alcina lays you on the pillow next to her. She kisses you on the head before pulling the covers over you and getting up and getting herself ready for bed. For all you know it could have been hours or seconds since Alcina said she would be right back. But before you know it you feel the mattress sink under her weight and you feel her strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into her.

"Thank you, Alci. I love you." You mumble.

"Of course iubirea mea. I'd do anything for you draga. Te iubesc mai mult decât luna și stelele. Goodnight my love." She says as her lips graze the shell of your ear. Alcina kisses the soft skin behind your ear and nuzzles you as you cuddle further back into her. (I love you more than the moon and stars.)

Not long after, Alcina hears light snores coming from you. With a full heart and a smile on her face, Alcina falls asleep thinking of who she is going to replace the current mayor with once she's through with him tomorrow morning.

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~5000 (haha.. whoops) Warnings: slightly suggestive for a tiny moment but SFW, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

Summary: Set in early Act II. Reader/Tav's origin of their powers is revealed to the party and there is a negative reaction to it. Astarion attempts to comfort reader with his usual routine and provide a "distraction" but gets rejected. He begins to question their own reasoning and feelings, and realizing that he might be feeling something… different.

Note: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. However, there is some backstory (noble background and a deity) and appearance descriptors (only freckles and hair colour) assigned to the reader/Tav. I really enjoy the dynamic of the moon/stars that I have with my own Tav named Olympia and Astarion and for this particular idea I wrote I felt the backstory was too important to leave out!

I am an avid D&D player and I loooove making OCs (its a problem I have like 30) but this particular backstory and character that this is based off of is very dear to me, so I really hope your enjoy!

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

You were all gathered on the grounds just outside of the Last Light Inn, heading back inside the main doors with Jaheira and Isobel. The safe haven protected from the forces of the Absolute — thanks to you and your companions quick action. The remaining Tieflings and the other inhabitants of the inn still shaken from the sudden attack, but resting safely inside. “I’m thankful you were all here to stop the attack.” The cleric of Selûne said softly. 

Isobel then looked over her shoulder at you, stopping for a moment as she looked you over from head to toe. “And you... I recognize my goddess’s powers within you — but they are so different from mine. Your magic is not born out of devotion for her.”

“What is she talking about?” Shadowheart asked from your side, whipping her head to you so fast her black braid flung out behind her.

You swallowed. You had been dreading this conversation. Fearing the moment it came out. “Yes, I, uh—,” You stumbled over your words, your tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth. “I was blessed by Selûne as a babe.”

Isobel raised her eyebrows, her lips stretching into a slight smile. “A blessing indeed. A drop of Selûne's own powers lives within you. You use it well.”

You bowed your head, your cheeks flushing a bright shade. Embarrassment and chagrin flooding you as every single member of your party turned to face you — varying reactions on all of them.

You eyes were still on your boots as both Isobel and Jaheira bid you a goodnight, telling you of your own rooms upstairs before disappearing amongst the many doors of the inn. The rest of your party quiet — not even Astarion had opened his mouth to fill the silence with a comment or joke.

The voice who broke it was the one you had dreaded the most. Shadowheart’s voice was a harsh whisper, but it still cut you deeply. “I cannot believe you. You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

You winced, your teeth biting into your cheek, “I wasn’t lying. I just… didn’t tell you.”

“You just didn’t tell me that you are blessed with divine magic from my goddess’ enemy.” The dark-haired cleric scoffed, her nose crinkling so much that the scar across her face shrank considerably.

You thought of all the nights around the campfire sharing soft laughs, the early mornings that you helped braid her hair. This was why you had been avoiding it. You didn't want to lose that. Shadowheart had become a friend, an ally. “I didn’t want to ruin anything, we’ve grown so close and… it’s not like I worship her. I don’t say my prayers to her every night, I was just a babe—“

“Well I do!” She raised her voice, a few passing Harper’s stirring in shock at the outburst before shuffling away. “In Shar’s name. This is unbelievable — I’ve been mere feet away from you this whole time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you kept your devotion to Shar a secret and when it did come out all of us have been nothing but accepting.” Your eyebrows were furrowed together in worry. This was going exactly as you had dreaded. You’d hope your friendship would be something she would consider however…

“Alsoooo,” Astarion drawled, “The last time you had a disagreement with one of us, we woke up to you holding a knife to Lae'zel’s neck. Can you really blame them for not bringing it up?” He wagged his fingers at her, a single white brow raised.

Her nostrils flared as she flashed a look to the vampire, before turning back to you. “This is no disagreement. This is wrong, this is against everything my lady stands for."

“Shadowheart, please. You are my friend—“ You began to beg, but the cleric cut you off.

“No. Not anymore. We will continue to travel together to reach Moonrise Towers. We will get rid of these tadpoles and then we are done.” She spat.

“I—,” You choked, unable to think of what else to say. How else to defend yourself. You realized that Shadowheart’s mind was made up, no matter what you said right now.

“Shadowheart,” Astarion cut in again, stepping in front of you almost protectively. “Enough.” His voice a low growl.

Gale and Wyll stepped forward too, concern etched on their face. Karlach’s own features were torn — her eyes flitting between you and Shadowheart with immense worry. Lae'zel remained in the back, her muscular arms crossed over her chest as she observed silently.

The dark haired cleric shook her head, a loud breath escaping her before she stormed off up the stairs. Her armor and weapons clanking loudly as she stormed away.

“Princess, come on!” Karlach shouted after her, starting up the stairs. But she paused for a moment, stretching out to grab your elbow gently. “It’ll be alright giggles, ok? Don’t worry about it.”

You could only nod as you watched the Tiefling chase after her, both of them disappearing upstairs.

“Well, that was hard to watch.“ Wyll murmered, offering you a pained smile.

You waited for the sound of a door slamming above, before turning to head up the stairs yourself. You felt your throat tighten as you fought to keep your tears at bay. "Today was a lot. I think I’m just going to find my room now.” You barely waved goodbye as you took the worn steps two at a time, disappearing from your group without a backwards glance as a few tears broke free.

“Wait, do you need—“ Gale began to trail behind you, his brows knitted together and face pained. 

“Let them be, Gale.” Astarion waved a hand to stop him pursing you up the stairs. “Let them drop the mask for a while. If you go barging in there right away, they will paint a smile on their face and act like everything is fine.”

A look of surprise crossed his face before the wizard let his shoulders slump, “You’re right.”

A sound of delight escaped the vampire, before he cupped his pale fingers around his pointed ear, “I beg your pardon, could you say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

Gale let out a large huff, before he admitted “I said you’re right. I’ll let them be.”

“Oooh, Gale. If you’re trying to woo me, at least buy me dinner first.” Astarion pretended to twirl his hair, before flashing him a wicked grin.

Gale pushed his face into a palm, letting out another exasperated sound. “Gods, save me.”

• • •

You were sat on the bed, your back pressed into the back of the headboard with your knees pressed to your chest. It had been a few hours before the tears had finally stopped, leaving you feeling even more exhausted and drained. You weren’t sure when the news of what lived inside you would come out — but it went exactly as you feared it had. The betrayal and anger on Shadowheart’s face was repeating over and over in your mind. The rest of your party had seemed accepting… but it was hard to tell what exactly they were thinking.

A sudden knock at your door had you scrambling to right yourself, wiping at your damp cheeks and eyes with the back of your hands. You fixed your shirt, and stretched out your legs to look as if you were just relaxing on the bed before letting out, “Come in.”

Your voice sounded much more meek than intended.

Astarion poked his head through the door, a strange combination of both hesitation and curiosity painted across his pale face. “Hello pet,” He purred, lingering in the door way for a moment.

“Astarion, hi.” You sat up a little straighter, surprised to see him. “Come in.”

He shut the door softly behind him, “Feeling any better? Or did Shadowheart come find you for an encore?”

You shook your head, “No, she’s stayed in her room — thank the gods. I don’t think I could handle another moment like that tonight.”

His eyes betrayed him for a moment, glancing to the floor, “Yes, well usually I would say it’s entertaining watching someone else’s drama unfold… but I didn’t enjoy that.”

He swayed over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Not close enough to touch, but you couldn’t help the small fluttering that erupted in your belly as he sat next to you. How casual it seemed, how easy it had become.

You shoved the thought away, instead scrunching your mouth up as you spoke, “I was avoiding it for a reason. I feel terrible... I shouldn't have hidden it for so long.”

“Well, if you were looking for a distraction…” He stretched his hand over to you and drew lazy circles on your knee before dragging it up to your thigh. “I can be of some assistance.” A seductive smile curved his lips, his eyes darkening. 

Your expression crumbled as the crack you had just soothed in your chest starting to form again. “That’s all you see me as, isn’t it?”

“What?” He asked, his hand freezing on your leg.

“Sex. That’s the only way you see me.”

“I—“ His eyes widened with bewilderment, before he blinked at you. “I don’t— I mean.” He continued to stammer, his fanged mouth hanging open in genuine shock.

You let out a sad sigh, your eyebrows furrowing like you were in pain. You were. The ache in your chest was growing tenfold, the familiar feeling of your heart crawling up your throat returning. “I’m not in the mood Astarion. If you want to feed, do it and go.”

He instantly pulled his hand away at your rejection, clutching it to his chest with the other one. He didn’t give an apology, nor did he seem interested in your offer to feed. His red eyes were blinking animatedly, as if confused. Before he bowed his head and got off the bed quickly. Then the sound of the door clicking softly behind him an instant later.

You couldn’t hear his steps in the hall even if you wanted to — so instead you rolled over onto your side, curling your limbs into yourself as you screwed your face up once more and cried.

• • •

Astarion didn’t know what to think. What to do.

No one had ever rejected him before. This is what he did, this is what he was built for. To manipulate. To seduce. 

To play the dazzling, charming distraction. He used to target the lonely, the distressed and upset… it made the hunt so much easier. And Cazador used to praise him for it — he said the miserable and desperate tasted so much better. 

But you weren’t like those easy targets. You weren’t simple, and he should have known better. You were complex and contradictory — not something he appreciated in a target. But something he could appreciate in a fellow person. Things were becoming to muddled, too confusing.

Gods dammit, he had been so foolish. His entire plan could be falling apart now — you sitting up in your room alone mulling everything over. 

But what really bothered him wasn’t the idea of his plan falling apart. That his protection from his old master could be gone by morning, leaving him behind to suffer the consequences.

No, what really bothered him, what he was really afraid of was how upset you’d been. That he was the cause of that.

Astarion's skin felt hot and crawling as he realized he had treated you as others had treated him all these years. Trying to use your desire as a way to override any other feeling. To seduce you into acquiescence, to fool you into thinking you needed only him. It disgusted him, what he’d done. Shame coursed through him and his fingers clenched onto his leather clad knee. 

He was grateful for the little dark attic he had found above the barn — grateful to be away from the prying eyes of the rest of the party. He couldn't explain this to them, he wouldn't. 

A splash of wet splashed onto the back of his hand and he realized he was crying. He'd forgotten he could do that. He'd stopped so many years ago, numbing and willing himself so that none would come. So that despite the pain or hurt he was feeling, his tears would not be there to give Cazador anymore satisfaction. His master didn't need anymore physical evidence of his anguish — his screams and blood and broken body was enough. He had stopped crying years ago. Until tonight. 

Wiping his face, he took a steadying breath he knew he didn't need. And then again for good measure. He wasn't really sure what he was doing, but he stood up with a slightly trembling body.  He needed to fix this. For you. For himself. 

Before he knew it he was back outside of your door, his fist hovering just above the painted wood. His other hand was picking at the seam of the side of his leather pants nervously. His red eyes stared at the little tray of food he'd brought up for you — resting on the hallway table as he waited to see if you would even let him in. A peace offering he'd thought. A way to get his foot in the door before he could… explain. Apologize. 

Chewing his lip, he finally let his knuckles rap on the door. He lingered for a moment, before opening it slightly. The small crack in the door angled enough to reveal you still laid in the bed, your back to the door as you were curled up on the mattress. Guilt flooded through him all over again. 

“Gale, I told you I’m fine—"

He pushed the door open a little more, just enough so that is creaked to get your attention. He only poked his head through, enough for you to see his pale face as you strained your neck to look over your shoulder. 

“Oh. It’s you.”

Astarion swallowed at the sound of your disappointment. It was not something he ever wished to hear again if he could. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he looked down, unable to look you in the eye, “Will you let me try again?”

“What?”

He finally looked up, his red eyes round and soft, “Let me try again.”

You gave him a hard to read look, before nodding curtly. 

Astarion grabbed the door, not closing it fully but just enough that the lock bounced softly back. His pale knuckles knocked again gently, before he heard you let out an exasperated breath. “Come in.”

A sheepish, tight lipped smile spread across his face as he stepped fully into the room and looked at you. You were sitting up in the bed now, your arms crossed over yourself with an unimpressed look on your face. He used his foot to close the door quietly as he held his peace offering behind him. 

“I won’t bother you, if you don’t want company. But I noticed you hadn’t eaten. I brought you dinner.” He pulled the tray out from behind his back, showing it to you. 

“Oh.”

“And a glass of wine.” He placed everything carefully onto the nightstand, before backing away towards the door. “It’s disgusting.”

A soft laugh escaped you, “Thank you." You took a small sip of the wine, before twisting your face. “Ugh — you are right, that is disgusting.”

“I’m almost certain I saw those Tiefling children your so fond of mixing it themselves. Pray this is a part time gig and they don’t become bartenders in the future.”

The two of you let snickers out through your noses, before the room turned quiet again. “Thank you for bringing this up. I mean it.”

“You’re very welcome.” He shuffled his feet, unsure if that was a dismissal or not. But he also found himself not wanting to leave. His hands were behind his back, his own fingers intertwining and squeezing tightly. “I’m… I’m sorry for how you were treated today. It wasn’t fair.”

Your eyes flashed down, your brow crinkling. “It’s okay—“

Astarion shook his head profusely, “No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t owe any of us anything — not your story, or … or anything else. What you decide to tell us, what you trust us with... that is your choice.” 

“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t trust you all, I do… I just.”

He cut you off gently, “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I know.” Your finger was playing with the rim of the wine glass in mesmerizing circles, over and over. “I do, trust you though.”

His red eyes lifted from your hands, to give you a quizzical look, “Now, why in the heavens would you do that?”

Your laugh was music to his ears. Full and bright. You shrugged, putting the glass back onto the nightstand — abandoning it and the dinner for another moment. “I just do.”

The vampire couldn't stop the purr that escaped his lips, “Hmmm, other members of our merry party would disapprove.”

“Probably. I think they disapprove of most of my interactions with you.” You said quietly, picking at the blanket you were sat upon. 

The room filled with silence for a moment as you thought. “I was just a baby… when it happened. I was born ill — so weak and tired, it was almost like I was a dead. My parents threw all of their power and wealth at every scholar and healer they knew to try and cure me.”

Astarion’s eyebrows shot up as you spoke, joining you carefully on the bed. Much further then his previous visit. His hands settled onto his own lap as he listened. 

“Nothing would work. And with every failed attempt, father become more and more distant. And mother became more and more desperate, hoping for any miracle she could find. She began to pray to any God that would listen, traveling to their shrines and statues. One night, my mother had fallen asleep crying while kneeling next to me. She said she awoke to a breeze and silver light — and the most beautiful woman she had ever seen was standing over us. Her hair was set in long silver waves, a flowing dress cascading over her curves, and a small smile on her lips as she watched the scene of mother and child. 'Selûne?' My mother asked, and the ethereal woman merely smiled again. 'I heard your prayers and felt your tears as if they were mine own. No mother should know the loss of their child.' As I slept, she touched my hair lightly, telling my mother I was pure and good-hearted. Selûne told her that she would help me, but that I would have a calling that would lead me away from my normal life of nobility and comfort. After my mother agreed, a white light shone through the Goddess’ hand, spreading into my hair, into my body and creating an aura around me. My hair turned silvery white, and star-like freckles began to shine all over my skin.” Your fingertips danced across your face, touching the skin that showed the blessing. 

Astarion was gobsmacked, his eyes lingering over your silver hair and the freckles that dusted your nose and cheeks. His mind struggling to keep up with the information. “So, what Isobel said is true… a drop of Selûne's power lives in you?”

You nodded your head weakly, avoiding his stare. 

“Gods… Why tell me this?”

You only offered a soft smile, “I wanted you to know.”

A thousand thoughts were running through his mind — most of them selfish. He'd prayed to the Gods every night for years, asking, begging, willing them to save him. To give him a swift death. Anything. And never received an answer back. But Selûne had for you.

But now that he knew you, he could think of no one else who would deserve it. He couldn't bare to think what the world would have been like if you had been taken away so early. Where he would be now if he hadn't met you on the cliffside after that damn ship. “Well, it seems that you truly are walking poetry, darling. Our little moon shining a light on all of us.”

He swore he saw you bottom lip tremble at the name. 

"Let me tell the others, when I'm ready?" You asked quietly. 

"Of course." 

The room fell into silence again, but it was more comfortable then before. Astarion found himself lost in his thoughts — a confusing melody of haunting memories, and wishful thoughts. 

“You never answered my question before.”

“Hmm?” Your voice had him blinking back to reality, turning his body to look over at you. 

“About… how you see me.” Your eyes were big and vulnerable. They tugged at his heart, at the knot in his stomach that formed with the thought of you.

“Oh," Was all he could get out. 

“I—I just,” Your voice was feint and nervous, your eyes studying the features of his face intently. 

“Don’t ask now.” He blurted, his fingers clenching into a tight fist on his lap. 

“What?”

“Give me time. Please.” He begged gently. 

Your eyes softened, before you nodded in silent understanding. “I can do that.”

Relief flooded him, his fingers relaxing and shoulders drooping. 

You seemed content on letting it drop, instead grabbing the plate of food next to you and balancing it on your knee. “Where is my roommate for the evening?” You asked, before taking a bite. 

“Lae'zel? Oh she deemed the lodgings unacceptable and that she would rather die than join us soft-skinned weaklings in a room. She set up a tent out front in the dirt.”

You finished chewing, before grinning. “That… checks out.”

“So you get a luxurious evening alone. At least one of us does." He feigned a frown, before waving his hands dramatically, "I get to spend the night listening to Gale and Wyll snore.” He rolled his eyes before speaking again. "I will say charming Wyll did volunteer to sleep on the floor so I could have half the bed, bless him.”

“You could stay here if you want. To sleep, I mean.” You offered easily, pushing the food around your plate with the fork as you waited for him to reply. 

He blinked again, caught off guard by your proposal. “Oh, that’s not necessary—“

“Astarion, really? You’ll share with Gale, but not with me?” You teased, a single eyebrow arching. 

He stared at you for a moment, dumbfounded before nodding, “Alright. Eat your dinner. I’ll get my things.” 

• • •

Slinking into his room, Astarion left out a sigh of relief as he realized it was empty. He needed a moment to ground himself and stop his spinning head. He had no idea what today would bring, but this whirlwind of a night was not at all what he had expected. He started grabbing his night clothes he had laid out on the bed in his shared room with Wyll and Gale, stuffing them into his rucksack. 

But he bristled as he heard steps approaching, looking over his shoulder to see  his two fellow male companions enter the room. 

“Ahhh, they you are Astarion. We wondered where you scurried off too.” The wizard spoke, tucking the book he had in his hands into the crook of his arm instead. 

“Oh, I found better company than the likes of you.” He shot back sarcastically — earning an eye roll from Gale. 

“Did you now?” The warlock asked with eyebrows raised, before bending down to his own pack to untie his bedroll from it. 

“Don’t bother with the bed roll tonight, Wyll. You’ll have to keep Gale warm tonight.”

"Where are you off too?" Gale asked, his brows furrowed. 

Wyll studied him carefully, before offering a little smirk to the vampire. “Off to sleep under the stars?”

“Amongst them actually.” Astarion replied, keeping his face perfectly neutral. As if to not give anything away.  

Wyll gave him a knowing look. “You be a gentleman, yeah?”

“Aren’t I always?” He said with a little bow before grabbing his bag and slinking out of the room. 

• • •

Your room was very quiet when he emerged back in it. Your empty dinner plate was sat on the edge of the nightstand, the glass of wine mostly untouched expect for that first single sip. The candles were starting to flicker with their last remaining life, the glow now a deep set orange instead of a bright yellow light. 

You had stepped behind the privacy screen as you changed, only the outline of your figure  could be seen through the sheer material stretched across the wood. He’d seen your naked body before, as you’d seen his — several times by now, actually. But he respected the privacy  — appreciated it actually. There was something quite raw about getting undressed in front of someone like this. Something vulnerable.

Something he wasn’t quite ready for.

Realizing he had been staring at that screen and your outline, he sat his bag down on the dresser and began sorting through his things. He heard the soft pads of your feet across the worn floorboards, before the creak of the bed as you laid in it. He turned around with a fake cough, his own night clothes in his pale hands. “May I?” He jerked his head towards the screen.

You simply nodded, turning on your side away from the screen to face the ajar window instead. 

He changed efficiently, tugging on the delicate breezy nightclothes before padding bare feet to place his folded clothes on top of his rucksack. He swallowed thickly as he turned to survey the room, to the large space you left in the double bed — intended for him. 

"I don't bite." You muttered with your eyes still closed. Like you could sense him hesitating. 

He barked a laugh, before moving to his side. "Cheeky pup." He slid into the bed, savoring the feeling of the soft sheets on his skin, the way the mattress hugged his tired and sore body. He hadn't slept in a real bed in ages, in well — he couldn't remember how long. He thought he had gotten used to the small comfort of his bed roll and tent these past weeks, especially when he compared it to the stone floor of Cazador's dungeon and kennels. But remembering the simple luxury of this room and bed would put his tent to shame once he returned to it. His pale fingertips rubbed the soft fabric covering his body, committing to memory. 

You adjusted yourself next to him, moving your pillow in a way that wafted your scent throughout the room. It made his movements stop, frozen as his senses were overwhelmed by you. You smelled sweet and warm — inviting. And it had nothing to do with the scent of your bouquet that usually clouded his mind. Licking his lips, he forced himself to look away from you — instead looking up at the dark ceiling, as the last flickers of the surviving candle in the room began to fade away. 

"Good night, Astarion." You mumbled into your pillow, your voice already sounding heavy with sleep. 

"Sweet dreams darling." He whispered back. 

You had fallen asleep next to each other before, of course — laid out in that forest or on the sands of a beach after wondering off away from the others to have your way with each other. 

This... this was different. 

He couldn’t will himself to fall into a trance. No matter how hard he tried. Instead he was still staring up at the grays and blacks of the dark ceiling, becoming more and more increasingly aware of your breaths and the thrum of your heartbeat. 

Only once he had heard them slow down, only once he knew you were in a deep sleep, did he chance looking over to you.

Your face was peaceful, serene as you slept. He wasn’t sure if it was actual moonlight trickling in, or just the cleric Isobel’s protective aura that had cast the blueish white light into the room. But either way it was resulted in Selûne’s power, and even in your sleep you were basking in it. The freckles that marked your checks and nose were almost glittering in the light. The silvery white of your hair shimmering. Your soft lips slightly parted as you dreamed.

Gods, you were beautiful.

Astarion closed his eyes as he was suddenly reminded of his times stuck in those wretched dungeons in the palace. Not what torture or pain he had to endure there. No. For once, that was buried away.

No, instead he recalled what he stared at to get him through those never ending sessions of abuse and torment. 

The night sky through those barred windows. 

The stars, somehow still blinking and winking from him through the city smoke and light. 

And the moon. That beacon of light in the black sky — constantly changing its shape and colour. But it was always there when he needed it to be. When he needed to look up, to be somewhere else, to think of something else — the moon was always there.

Shining. Listening. Understanding.

His eyes opened again, staring again at your tranquil face, your slumbering form curled into the soft bed and sheets.

You were so much more than he had bargained for. A companion blessed with a drop of an actual god’s power. He should have been thrilled — that his plans for protection and well-deserved justice on Cazador was even easier to achieve than he first thought. 

No. Instead he realized he was feeling something else. Something… new.

That even though he had missed the sun, longed for it for two hundred years, delighted in the colours it cast the world in it. That even though he could finally enjoy the sun's beam, and bask in the it's warmth and golden glow. Despite all that, he knew that the sun would never understand him like the moon did.

Oh shit.

He had royally fucked up his plan.

Part II: here