#sorry this is kind of ugly...content counts

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 4

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, also toxic!ellie kind of, mentions of marijuana, sexual speech and content, brief mention of straight girls experimenting with lesbianism, toxic family relationships, lesbian situationship, descriptions and mentions of death & grieving, depressive episodes, cheating if you squint but it's more betrayal than cheating really?, bad driving for like two seconds, description and mention of vomit, minors do not interact

word count: 7k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

Freshman Year, Early Spring

“Are you coming to Jess and Els’ later tonight?” Dina asked, snuggling your pink stuffed bear and laying upside down at the head of your bed with her legs outstretched to the ceiling. 

“Hmm?” You said, distracted. You were rummaging in your messy drawers, trying to find the other pair of a sock you were currently holding in your hand. 

“Ellie said she wants to do a post-midterm celebration with a movie night, which just means we’re gonna watch some lame old sci-fi movie that she and Jesse picked out.” 

“Maybe,” You said, tossing the sock into the other contents of the drawer, giving up. “Can’t stay too late, though. Raf is picking me up really early in the morning tomorrow.” 

“Ooh, can I finally meet The Hottie Cousin Rafael in person?” Dina said, dropping her legs and turning onto her belly to face you. 

You rolled your eyes and said, “You have Jesse, Dina.” 

She shrugged and said, “I bet Hottie Cousin Rafael wouldn’t make me watch lame movies all the time.” 

“Raf is far nerdier than Jesse is, I promise.” 

“If he’s as hot as he looks on FaceTime, his hotness will cancel out the nerdiness.” 

You scrunched up your nose in disgust at Dina’s thirsting after your de facto older brother. 

“I’m not the best judge, but Jesse’s not not hot.” 

Dina laughed. 

“I’m telling El you said that.” 

Your cheeks flushed as you said, “She’ll just say the same thing!” 

“All men are basically ugly in Ellie’s eyes. She’ll say, ‘Jesse’s the uglier version of a walker from The Walking Dead’ or some shit like that.” 

You giggled, knowing that was probably true. 

“Do you have to leave early for spring break?” Dina whined. 

You gave her a sad smile. 

“Sorry, D. You know how my mother is.” 

Dina groaned and, pointing to the plushie she was holding, said, “Barbie Bear, when will you come to life at night Toy Story-style and finally horrifically murder this awful lady?” 

“Dina!” You exclaimed, grabbing your pink bear from her. “Don’t you corrupt Barbie Bear! She is an innocent soul!” 

“Oh, she’s been corrupted already,” Dina said, snatching Barbie Bear back. “I’m sure she’s been a witness to the deplorable things you and Ellie have gotten up to in here.” 

“Dina!” You squealed once more, blushing furiously and hiding your face behind your hands. “She and I have not!” 

“Oh please,” Dina rolled her eyes. “Ellie comes back to her and Jesse’s place the morning after spending the night here with the same cocky ass look that Jesse has after we fuck.” 

“Oh my god—” 

Dina cackled and you giggled nervously. 

“So are you two officially together now or—?” 

“Who, me and Ellie?” You asked. 

“No, you and Jesse.” Dina said sarcastically, throwing Barbie Bear at you. 

You caught the bear at the last second, laughing as you climbed onto your bed with her and handed the plushie back to her. 

“Shut up!” You giggled. “But, umm. I’m not really sure what we are, if I’m being honest.” 

Dina groaned and said, “Ugh, you’re both useless!” 

“I’ve only had one real girlfriend before!” 

“So has Ellie!” 

“Then ask her instead!” 

“Oh, I have.” Dina said, raising her eyebrows. 

You perked up suddenly. 

“Wait, what did she say?” 

“Oh my god, can you two just have the talk already?!” Dina groaned, exasperated at her friends’ incompetence. 

You blushed harder than ever. 

“I just… I just don’t know if she feels the same way I do.” 

Dina rolled her eyes. 

“You’re the first person she texts every morning, and mind you, Ellie hates texting. She will spend an hour in that stupid Jeep of hers in the parking lot outside until you get home from class just to hang out with you. Three of her five hoodies are somewhere here in your room right now. Tara told me that you’ve sexiled her at least twice already.” 

“We have not!” 

“Honey, she literally spent two separate nights at mine and Astrid’s because you and Ellie were over here—” 

Dina made a circle with her right thumb and pointer finger and repeatedly inserted her left pointer in it. 

“OH MY GOD—” You screamed into a pillow. 

Dina was over the moon teasing you as you grabbed your blanket and hid underneath it. 

“I need to offer to do her laundry for two weeks or something,” You said, your voice muffled from beneath the covers. “I’m the worst roommate ever.” 

Dina chuckled, saying, “Don’t worry, she likes you and Ellie together. Just maybe shoot her a warning text before you two wanna scissor, or whatever you lesbians do.” 

“Oh please, like you and Ellie never did anything together.” You said, emerging from underneath your blanket. 

“Okay, first of all,” Dina said, putting up one finger. “Ellie and I kissed once at our sophomore homecoming dance, and that was just to make Jesse jealous.” 

You chuckled. 

Dina put up a second finger. 

“Two, it was like kissing a cousin, so that obviously resulted in zero sexual scenarios whatsoever from that point on. I have never once been compelled to call Ellie ‘daddy’ ever in my life.” 

You screamed into your pillow once more at this. 

Dina put both fingers down and put her middle finger up. 

“And three, I have had gay sex with women before, but they were both also bisexual and there was no scissoring involved!” 

You were laughing uncontrollably now with Dina attacking you with Barbie Bear. 

“Okay, okay!” You giggled, attempting to shield yourself. “Why are we talking about scissoring again?” 

“Because!” 

One hit from Barbie Bear. 

“You are avoiding!” 

Another hit from Barbie Bear. 

“My questions!” 

A third hit from Barbie Bear. 

“About you!” 

An additional hit from Barbie Bear. 

“And Ellie!” 

A final hit from Barbie Bear that landed on your face. 

You snatched your stuffed animal away from Dina before she could swing it once more, pulling it away from her reach. 

“Okay, no more abusing me with Barbie Bear!” You said.

She chuckled. 

“And…” You started, serious now. “I’ve never experienced this before. I’ve had one real girlfriend, which was a high school disaster.” 

You sighed. 

“I briefly saw that one girl Adriana at the beginning of the year before we both realized she was just a rebound to my ex. I’ve hooked up with a few other girls since, and I was even Rebecca’s first lesbian college experiment kiss before she realized she was just straight.” 

Dina was sitting straight up now, staring at you intently and listening attentively. You pulled Barbie Bear into your chest. 

“Ellie is… she feels different. Something in my heart just yearns for her. She makes me feel like I must have done something so great in a past life that her just being in my life is the reward. She makes me feel forgiven and understood and—” 

You paused your Ellie sermon when you made eye contact with Dina, who was looking at you with a soft expression. 

“Sorry!” You threw your hands up apologetically and proceeded to cover your face with them in embarrassment. “I sound like a 12-year-old experiencing their first real crush!” 

Dina chuckled and pulled your hands away from your face. 

“No, you don’t. You sound like someone who Ellie deserves to have in her life, someone who sees her fully and appreciates all the good and bad. She’s gone through her own fair share of romantic and sexual bullshit too, and knowing that she now has you?” 

Dina placed an affectionate hand on your cheek. 

“I know that I don’t have to worry anymore.” 

“Dina, you’re gonna make me cry right now.” 

Dina leaned back into your pillows, laughing. 

“You started it!” 

“You sounded like you were giving away a bride!” 

“Wow, not even officially together yet, but somehow you’re already getting married.” 

You groaned and flopped onto your back. 

“I love her, Dina.” 

“No shit, babe.” 

After the talk you had with Dina, you both went over to Jesse and Ellie’s dorm room. Even though Jesse was a sophomore and Ellie a freshman, they were somehow able to convince the campus housing department to let them room together after both their roommates dropped out during the first month of classes. 

The “lame old sci-fi movie” that they’d picked out turned out to be Jurassic Park, which you’d already seen several times, courtesy of your nerdy older cousin Rafael. Dina was playfully criticizing every little bit of the movie to tease Jesse, who was taking her critiques to heart. As the couple were lovingly bickering with each other on the floor, you and Ellie sat on her bed underneath a blanket. 

You leaned against her shoulder while she was tracing patterns on the palm of your hand. Though she was concentrated on the movie, she would habitually give you a kiss on top of your head, sometimes following with her nose nuzzling your hair. She’d not said she loved you so far, but gestures like this felt like her way of saying it. You felt warm and content and the happiest you’ve ever been in your life. 

After Jesse convinced the rest of you to watch the movie’s sequel (as punishment to Dina for talking through the first), you’d made up your mind to change your spring break plans. 

You were still planning on returning home for the break, but since Ellie, Dina, and Jesse were spending the weekend on campus and not returning to their hometown until Monday, you resolved to at least spend more time with them. You knew that two weeks of spring break didn’t seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things. But the thought of being away from your friends whom you loved so deeply, but especially from Ellie, hurt far more than it did when you left home for college in the first place. 

And after your talk with Dina earlier that day, you’d also decided to be honest with Ellie about your feelings for her before you briefly went your separate ways. You knew that maybe it wasn’t the greatest timing to profess your love for the girl of your dreams right before zero physical contact for fourteen days. But Dina helped you further realize the affection you had for Ellie, and you knew you couldn’t go home without letting her know. You also figured that if all went wrong, you could always use the two weeks to save face before returning to campus. 

During the scene with Jeff Goldblum and Julianne Moore’s characters are hiding in a trailer from the T-Rex parents, you texted your cousin Rafael. 

A minute or two passed before he responded. 

You reply immediately. 

Three text bubbles loaded for a second before two texts appeared. 

You felt your cheeks burn. 

You could almost feel your cousin chuckling through text.

You breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude.

You smiled, your heart full and thankful for your favourite cousin. 

Jesse whooped and Dina squealed as she pulled you into a tight hug when you told them you were leaving in two days instead of the next morning. Ellie didn’t say much in the moment, but you felt a glow of happiness radiating from her at the news. When your friends had settled down and continued the movie, Ellie pulled you closer to her and wrapped her arms around you. You leaned into her embrace as she silently decorated your neck with kisses, resolving to call your mother tomorrow morning to break the news. 

You never made that call.

You awoke to your phone buzzing angrily underneath your pillow. Discombobulated, you didn’t fully perceive your surroundings. You’d fallen asleep on Ellie’s bed, still wrapped in her arms. Jesse and Dina had eventually migrated at some point in the night to Jesse’s bed and were sound asleep. You saw that Ellie had plugged your phone into her charger after you’d fallen asleep. Stroking her hair lightly as she slept, you looked at your phone to see it was your mother calling. 

Before accepting the call, you’d seen that you had 7 missed calls and 4 voicemails. You groaned. Was your mother really that upset? 

You didn’t seem that alarmed until you saw that only 6 of those calls and 3 of those voicemails were from your mother. One of each was from your uncle, Rafael’s father. 

Why is Uncle calling me? Did she guilt him into guilting me to come home?

Sighing, you finally accepted your mother’s call. 

Ellie, Jesse, and Dina all awoke to you screaming. All three were at different levels of disorientation at first, but upon seeing your shrieking figure having fallen to the floor, they all rushed to your side. No one seemed sure what to do at first, other than trying to stand you up (to no avail) and ask what was wrong. It was Dina who snapped into sense first, noticing that you were still on a call with your mother. 

She picked up the phone, rushed through an introduction, and worryingly inquired what was happening. Ellie and Jesse watched as her mouth fell open and her eyes widened with shock. She listened to your mother for a minute or two before bringing the other two into the loop. 

Your cousin Rafael was killed in a hit-and-run that morning. Since he was no longer tasked to bring you home that day, he made impromptu plans with old college friends to meet up for an early morning coffee. He was crossing an intersection on the way to the café when a car decided to run a red light. He died on impact. 

Your spring break was consumed completely by black clothing, floral wreaths of white lilies and roses, and an overstocked fridge of homemade food that your family barely touched. You saw no happy faces, only red eyes and quivering lips. You were torn out of the blissful bubble of your college life into a waking, familial nightmare. 

Rafael was your first cousin and not your brother. But it was as if at birth, he claimed you as his sister and the rest was history. 

Everyone who knew either of you was aware of the sibling bond you’d shared. He was the most important person to you for the first 18 years of your life. More than your parents, more than any other family member, more than any of your friends. Saying that he was your best friend was an understatement. 

The two weeks back home with your family were a black haze. You remained locked up in your room for the majority of the time, and when your presence was required, you spoke only when spoken to. You alternated between fits of sobbing and near-comatose states. 

Your only comfort was your uncle, Rafael’s father. You never knew your parents to give genuine love and affection, so you grew up seeing your uncle as a parental figure. Even as he raised Rafael alone as a single father, he often took you under his wing and provided you with a place of home away from your parents’ house. 

Your parents, especially your mother, were preoccupied with putting on the show of a broken family to sympathizers. It was your uncle who made sure you continued to eat and drink every day. He was the one to give you the gentle push to leave your room for the funeral, knowing that you’d one day regret not going. He even spoke to your friends on the phone when you’d stopped responding. By the end of your spring break, Dina had his personal phone number so she could call twice a day for daily updates, which she would promptly share with Jesse and Ellie. 

Unlike your mother, your uncle placed no blame on you for his son’s death. He knew that the one true person to blame was the careless driver in the car that hit him. But your mother was a different story. 

In those last few days before you needed to return to campus, your mother enlightened you with her true feelings. 

She had decided your “selfishness” in inconveniencing your family was what decided Rafael’s fate. If he had been on his way to pick you up from college, he never would have been crossing that intersection. According to her, you’d placed insignificant people you’d known for less than a year over your own family. 

If you were a weaker person, you’d have crumbled under her accusations. She was quite skilled in twisting the truth to her point of view, and she was skilled even more so in making people believe the worst of themselves. But Rafael and your uncle raised you better. You may not have been the most secure person growing up, but they made you feel loved. 

Despite your mother’s malice, you were grateful for her outburst. It snapped you back into reality. Your fury at your mother reminded you that Rafael would not have wanted you to give in to her guilt. 

You knew that his death was not your fault. Of course you were still grieving, but you loved Rafael so much that you would not allow your mother to force you back into a state of living death. Your uncle made sure of this when he drove you back to campus. 

The few hours drive to your dorm, you and your uncle had the most intense and intimate conversation you’d ever had with him. You bawled, you even smiled and laughed a few times, and you talked about the future. It pained you to watch him drive away, the last real living connection you had left to Rafael. 

You may not have been the depressive zombie you were at the news of Rafael’s death, but you no longer lived blissfully in your college bubble. Still, your friends remained sympathetic and loving as you dealt with your grief. 

Ellie remained just as caring and affectionate, at least at first. She made sure to spend all her free time with you to make sure you weren’t left alone to spiral into your depressive thoughts. She didn’t try anything sexual with you and made sure to respect your mourning boundaries. She even set an alarm every week to make sure you were on time for your video therapy sessions (your uncle set you up with a therapist to make sure you remained stable). 

To the outside observer, your grieving process was progressing naturally and healthily. You barely missed class, you still saw your friends on a regular basis, you weren’t bursting out in tears (or so most of your friends thought). No one else felt the need to worry about you more than they had to. 

Except for Dina. 

Having lost her parents at a young age, it was mostly her and her older sister taking care of each other. Part of why she grew to be so close to Jesse was because his parents were family friends who helped them out when their parents passed. 

Dina has dealt with great familial loss before and she saw the signs of someone barely keeping it together. 

That’s why before your freshman year ended, Dina invited you to stay with her and her sister for the summer. 

Summer Before Sophomore Year: Jackson 

Calling your parents to let them know that you weren’t coming back home for most of the summer was a difficult conversation. Your mother threw a fit and your father chastised you for upsetting your mother. But with encouragement of your friends and your uncle (who promised you that he’d ship essentials from your parents’ house to Dina’s as soon as he could), you eagerly accompanied Dina, Jesse, and Ellie to their hometown of Jackson. 

After just a few days in the town, you understood why the trio have remained friends since childhood. The community in Jackson was small but very tight-knit. Everyone knew each other and it seemed unusual for people to leave. They treated each other like family, and you envied the comfy, homey feeling the town radiated. 

Dina’s sister Talia wasn’t around very often, consumed by her full-time job. You didn’t fully understand what she did for work, only that it had something to do with computers. The few times you were actually able to spend time with her, you enjoyed seeing the repertoire between her and her younger sister. Though ten years older than Dina, they treated each other like peers. You saw how Dina grew to be such an emotionally mature person. Talia accepted you with open arms, fulfilling the role of big sister the entire time you were there. 

On the third day of your stay, you finally met Joel. He was Ellie’s adoptive father who took in Ellie at a young age. Though they were not biologically related, you found yourself often chuckling over how similar the two were. 

Ellie’s foul-mouthed behaviour mirrored that of Joel’s, which was a welcome contrast to your parent’s curt and strict speech. He told stories of his past, many of which involved him getting into all sorts of trouble. Though he seemed to have grown out of it, you saw that impulsivity and temperament in Ellie today. 

He was a kind, old man, and you saw why Ellie admired him so. You also noticed just how much he loved Ellie as if he’d birthed her himself. You found yourself desiring the kind of parent Joel was. You had your uncle throughout your childhood, of course, but you still had to go home to the cruelty of your parents at the end of the day. 

Joel seemed to be aware that Ellie dealt back at your university. It was through him that Ellie actually knew her plug. This old pal of Joel’s, Eugene, was originally her (and Dina’s and Jesse’s) dealer back in high school. When they’d graduated and started attending university, Eugene introduced Ellie to an old contact who grew not far from campus once she started dealing. Joel would roll his eyes and scoff any time the topic of Ellie being a dealer came up, but he genuinely didn’t seem to mind as long as she was smart about it. 

On nights when Dina and Jesse were both busy, you found yourself spending the evening at Joel’s house. He was very keen on having you over for dinner often, complaining that Ellie was a very boring conversation partner. You bonded quickly over a number of things, such as your mutual love of coffee (to which Ellie rolled her eyes, claiming that a simple hot chocolate was far superior to that “burnt shit”) and being Ellie’s impulse control. 

About nearly a month into your stay, Dina was picking you up from another dinner at Joel’s and Ellie’s place to walk you back to her house. Both waved you goodbye at the front door (not before you gave Ellie a peck on the cheek) and watched as you and Dina linked arms and walked into the streetlight-lit darkness. 

Once you and Dina were out of their sight, Joel put his hand on Ellie’s shoulder. 

“Come on, kiddo. We need to talk.” 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, old man,” Ellie exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and leaning into the living room couch. 

“Ellie.” 

“Joel.” Ellie said, mocking his serious tone. 

“That girl is so in love with you, and it’s plain to anyone who sees y’all together.” 

Ellie crossed her arms, saying nothing. 

“And it’s as clear as day that you’re head over heels for her too.” 

Ellie scoffed and said, “Don’t assume shit, old timer.” 

“I ain’t assuming anythin’. I know you, and so do Dina and Jesse.” 

“You’ve been talking to Dina and Jesse behind my back?” 

“Now, hold on there,” Joel said, taking a seat at the lounge chair next to the couch Ellie sat on. “They were just tellin’ me about what y’all get up to at that big university, and we just got to talkin’ about you. There weren’t no secret meetings or anythin’ conspirin’ like that.” 

“And what did those two have to say?” 

“That y’all have been basically joined to the hip since y’all met.” Joel said, leaning back. 

“That’s not true—” Ellie began angrily. 

“Look, kid, no need to be pitchin’ a hissy fit. I’m just relayin’ what those two have been observin’. But since y’all took her home, apparently you’ve been actin’ a tad different towards her.” 

“What does that mean?” 

Joel sighed. 

“Ellie, this girl was all you talked about nonstop that whole year you were up at that school. I already know the girl’s favourite colour and coffee order just from the phone calls we had.” 

“I did not talk about her that much.” 

“Yes, you did. There’s no point in denyin’ it.” 

Ellie glared. 

“Now, I wanna know why it seems like you’ve changed your tune on her.” 

“Really, ‘changed my tune?’ Man, you’re getting too old.” 

“Don’t go changin’ the subject. Now, I can see how you’re still clearly sweet on her, but there’s somethin’ a little off. Like you’re holdin’ back from her, or somethin’ like that.” 

“I’m just not a people person, Joel, and you know that.” 

“Doesn’t matter. Ellie,” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and looked directly at her. “Do you love her?” 

“Come on, man—” 

“Ellie.” 

Ellie met Joel’s eyes and saw that he was waiting for a truthful answer. She exhaled, took a beat, and responded. 

“I don’t love her.” 

Joel sighed sadly. 

“Thought I taught you better than that, kiddo.” 

She looked away, saying, “We’re not even dating.” 

“Does she know that?  

“She’s not stupid.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Ellie stood up, exasperated. 

“Why does any of this matter, Joel!” 

“Because that poor darlin’ just lost her own kin, so if you’re fixin’ to break her heart, you need to stop stringin’ her along.” 

“I’m not doing anything!” 

“I like this girl for you, Ellie. She’s got a kind soul that somehow blossomed past her upbringin’. She brings out the best in you, even if you try to hide it. She thinks the world of you, kid, bless her heart. Don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret.” 

“I haven’t done shit!” Ellie yelled, standing up from the couch. 

“Daggum it, stop actin’ childish and listen to what I’m sayin’ here, Ellie.” 

Ellie stormed out of the room without another word. 

After the conversation she had with Joel, Ellie began acting distant towards you. It started with the little things: keeping her hands in her pockets while you walked around town to avoid holding your outstretched hand, no longer inviting you over to dinner at Joel’s unless Dina or Jesse planned on coming along, no more public displays of affection and very limited tenderness in private. 

Dina was right in her assumption that you were barely holding it together. The anxiety as a result of Ellie’s behaviour, on top of your grief over your cousin’s death, began unraveling you. 

Your late-night talks with Dina became less and less. You began sitting next to her or Jesse more often than you did Ellie. Dina would walk in on you completely spaced out and it took several minutes to get a verbal response out of you. 

Dina and Jesse were sure that if you came back with them to Jackson, being around the presence of those who loved you as opposed to people who resented you would ease your grieving process. They didn’t, however, predict that Ellie become a hurdle to your progress. And they certainly did not predict Ellie’s idiotic actions that followed. 

“I thought we were having a movie night,” Jesse said, eyebrows furrowed. “I brought DVDs.” 

Ellie chuckled, saying, “You know there are these things called ‘streaming services’ now, Jess.” 

“Hypocrite. You and Joel have stacks of DVDs of every action and sci-fi movie ever made in your living room.” 

“What can I say, I’ve gotten with the times.” 

“Like hell you have.” 

You, Dina, and Jesse were all bunched up on the pull-out couch in Dina’s basement (where you were residing for the summer). Jesse was messing with the TV’s remote to find the right input while you and Dina were snuggled up underneath the same blanket. Your tired eyes watched as Ellie pulled her flannel on and rolled her sleeves up, revealing that fern tattoo you loved so much on her right forearm. 

“Who the fuck is more important than us, anyway?” Dina said, frowning. 

Ellie chuckled again, saying, “We hang out almost every day, D. You’ll survive the night.” 

“You’re not coming back after dinner?” 

“We’ll see, but don’t wait up.” 

Your eyes then fell down to your fingers, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket. You haven’t spoken out loud once tonight since Ellie’d walked in. 

“You’re banned from our friend group now. You may reapply in 3-6 months.” Dina said, flipping Ellie off. 

“Literally one dinner, drama queen.” 

“Where are you even going?” 

“Rivers Café.” 

You didn’t notice how Jesse’s and Dina’s faces fell. 

“Gonna be late, so see you guys later.” Ellie said, walking up the stairs without a second glance. 

After a beat or two, Jesse spoke. 

“What the actual fuck.” 

“Jesse—“ Dina began. 

“I love her, but god damn it.” Jesse got up and started shuffling through the DVDs he brought. 

There was a palpable tension in the air for the rest of the night. An old martial arts movie was playing, but none of you were paying much attention. Nobody said anything, besides a comment every now and again from Dina noting how unrealistic some fighting move was. 

Ellie didn’t come back to Dina’s that night. 

Two weeks before classes started, your things were packed to return to your parents’ house. You didn’t want to leave, but you needed to properly prepare for the start of your junior year. 

Dina was watchful and clingy before you left, constantly letting you know that the first thing she was going to do when you all returned to campus was hunt you down for a coffee date. Jesse would chuckle at this, saying that he’d probably see you when she dragged him along to it. 

Dina’s sister Talia said goodbye to you three days before your departure, needing to leave for a brief business trip the day before. She pulled you into a very tight hug, telling you that you were always welcome in their home and to feel free to tag along with Dina during any school breaks. 

You had a last dinner at Joel’s the night before you left. He made you and Ellie a simple pasta dish, which you learned was his late daughter Sarah’s favourite meal. He and you shared a sweet and intimate conversation where you both opened up about your shared familial losses. He told you about Sarah and you talked about Rafael. You understood why Joel was so protective over Ellie, having lost Sarah when she was only 12. You were happy that Ellie had someone like that in her life. 

Surprisingly, Ellie had offered to drive you home. You were starved for her attention, so you happily accepted. You offered for her to stay in your parents’ guest room for a night so she wouldn’t have to do so much driving in one day, but she said she didn’t mind. You felt disappointed, but you also didn’t want to subject her to your parents more than you had to. 

Dina and Jesse were the ones who waved you off (Joel sent his regards with Ellie when she came to Dina’s place to pick you up). You reassured them both that two weeks was not a very long time, though you were partly saying it out loud to convince yourself of it too. Your hand was the last thing they saw, waving from the passenger’s window of Ellie’s car. 

As you drove away from the gates of Jackson, there was not much noise except an Aminé song playing in the background and the occasional bird call heard outside from the rolled-down windows. 

There was a heaviness in your heart that weighed more and more the further from Jackson you were. Though you didn’t grow up there, the locals were so naturally welcoming. Being there felt like coming home every day. It was a safe and healthy place for you to process your grief. You wished summer went on forever. 

After a little while of silence between you and Ellie during which you lamented on your departure, you began to feel the awkwardness between you two. She hadn’t said anything and it didn’t seem like she had any intention to. You shrunk in your seat and began fidgeting and braced yourself to say something. 

“Um,” You started. “Thanks for offering to drive me back.” 

“No big deal,” Ellie replied. “Happy to do it.” 

You could feel your heart beating in your ears. 

“Why’d you decide to?” 

Ellie shrugged. “Just wanted to be a good friend.” 

You winced. 

“Is… is that what we are, El? Just friends?” You asked meekly. 

“I mean, yeah. Of course.” 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. 

Is this how she really feels? Has this how she’s felt the whole year we’ve been doing all this? Have I just been reading into all this wrong? 

You attempted to suppress a bubbling anxiety attack, trying not to hyperventilate. Ellie seemed to be content with the silence and said nothing. 

Trying to distract yourself, you whipped out your phone to text Dina. 

She replied almost immediately. 

After a few seconds, another text from her popped up. 

You chuckled silently, replying: 

Ellie noticed the sudden sound, saying, “What are you laughing about?” 

“Just Jesse.” You said. 

“Ahh” was all she said in reply. 

You refused to look her way, feeling like seeing her disinterested face would make you feel worse than you already were. 

You texted Dina, saying: 

Three text bubbles appeared before her texts popped up. 

You gulped, even more anxious than before.

You tried to ignore the nagging feeling that there was something else going on, something you weren’t privy to. You and Ellie were inseparable most of freshman year, even before you were explicitly doing things that regular friends didn’t do. 

What’s changed? 

Sometime during your internal struggle, you’d drifted off to sleep. You woke up groggy and disoriented, taking a moment to realize you were still in the passenger seat of Ellie’s Jeep. The sun was further west than before. You glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 

“How much further do we have?” You asked, voice raspy. 

“About an hour or so.” 

“Oh.” 

You’d been asleep for longer than you thought. Feeling guilty, you wiped some drool off your chin and yawned quietly. 

“I’m sorry for passing out on you.” 

“All good.” Ellie said. 

“Did I snore?” 

Ellie shrugged and you stopped yourself from letting out an incredibly audible and frustrated sigh. 

Five or ten minutes passed during which you were wrestling with yourself on making use of the rest of the time to confront Ellie. In the end, you decided that two weeks of this anxiety eating at you was not worth it. 

“Els?” 

She didn’t seem to hear you. 

You cleared your throat and said a little louder, “Ellie.” 

“What’s up?” She said, dryly. 

You took a deep breath. 

“What’s been going on?” You asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

You bit the inside of your lip. 

“I mean…” You began. “You haven’t been yourself lately.” 

“I don’t really know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ellie, come on. You’ve been… different.” 

She didn’t answer. 

“Jesse and Dina both agree with me.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I don’t really appreciate people talking about me behind my back.” 

“We’re not!” You exclaimed. “We’ve just been wondering why you’re so distant lately.” 

“Just cause I’m not much of a talker doesn’t mean I’ve been distant.” 

You used to talk all the time with me. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ellie. You don’t seem to like hanging out with us, and you cancel on us half the time. You don’t tell us what you’ve been up to or where you’ve been.” 

You gulped. 

“Like that movie night at Dina’s place. You agreed to come over for a sleepover, and you came for five minutes then bailed on us and didn’t even tell us where you were going.” 

“Yes, I did!” 

“Not ‘til the very end! You didn’t even tell us who you were seeing!” 

“Why does that even matter?” 

“It’s not that, Ellie! It’s just that you’ve been elusive and secretive, and I don’t like it!” 

“Well, that’s not really my problem, is it?” 

Her words pierced your heart and it took everything you had to keep going and not break down. 

Is that what I’ve become now? Your problem, Ellie? 

“I guess not.” You said quietly. 

A few minutes of silence passed. You were fidgeting in your seat once more while Ellie seemed completely disinterested in further conversation. 

But you refused to go back with all this unresolved. 

“Who did you see?” You asked suddenly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“At that café. Who did you go see?” 

“Why do you care?” Ellie scoffed. 

“Why won’t you answer?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“It was just an old friend, okay? Jesus,” She said, irritated. “I have other friends besides Jesse and Dina.” 

“Who was it, Ellie?” 

“Her name is Cat! God, enough with the questions.” 

You froze for a moment until you finally murmured, “Cat, your ex-girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“You guess?” 

“What the fuck do you want from me, dude?” Ellie cried, coming to a stop at a red light a little rougher than needed. 

You blinked. 

“What?” You asked quietly. 

“What?” Ellie repeated, angrily. 

“Why did you call me that? You never… You always—” 

You always call me “babe.” Or “baby.” I thought I was your baby. 

“Whatever,” You said, shaking your head. “I just don’t know why you’d see her. I thought you hadn’t kept in contact with her since high school.” 

“We reconnected over the summer,” Ellie huffed, slowly putting her foot down on the accelerator. “Didn’t realize that was a fucking crime.” 

Your mouth quivered as silent, betraying tears began to fall. 

“Am I a joke to you, Ellie?” You whispered. 

“What?” 

“Am I a FUCKING joke to you?” You shouted. 

Ellie froze, almost swerving. She’d never heard you raise your voice this way. 

“I thought… I thought I meant more to you. I thought that we had something. What the fuck did I do wrong? What did I do?” 

Your right hand was wiping tears away while your left was clutching your stomach tightly. You felt like you needed to hurl. 

“You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t touch me. Why did you start talking to her again? Why wouldn’t you talk to me? Was I not fucking enough?” 

There was a pause before Ellie spoke. 

“You’re not my girlfriend. I have no obligation to you.” 

You felt as if the world disappeared from underneath you and you were falling. You were no longer in the passenger seat of Ellie’s car. No, you were plunging into a dark abyss, the same one that your friends had saved you from falling into when Rafael died. But here you were anyway. And it was Ellie who pushed you in. 

Before you knew it, Ellie had pulled up to the curb of your house. The sound of her engine turning off snapped you back into reality briefly. As you unbuckled yourself, you realized that on top of a plain black tank, you were wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt that Ellie’d lent you. You tore it off and threw it to the floor. 

Before Ellie could even move, you were out of the car and pulling your bags out of Ellie’s backseat. By the time Ellie unbuckled herself and got out of the driver seat, you had all your bags in hand and ready to trudge up your parents’ driveway. 

You felt you probably looked ridiculous: tears and snot running down your face while you struggled with several heavy bags. But you didn’t care. You needed a wall between you and Ellie immediately. 

“Look—” Ellie started, taking a few steps. 

You dropped your bags and started towards her. 

“Fuck you, Ellie Williams.” You spat. 

“Fuck you for lying to me. Fuck you for leading me on. Fuck you for letting me fall in love with you. Fuck you for breaking my heart.” 

Ellie stopped in her tracks. 

“You... you—” She began, but her voice caught. 

By the time she found her voice again, you had already picked your bags up and hauled them to the front porch, keys already in your hand to unlock the door. She almost called your name out and yelled for you to wait, but you had thrown your bags through the threshold so quickly and disappeared almost immediately after them. 

Ellie jumped at the sound of the front door slamming. 

The second you had closed the door behind you, you leaned into one of your mother’s decorative urns and vomited.

author's notes:

is barbie bear based on an actual stuffed bear i own and is named barbie and is that a picture of her in the icon at the beginning of the fic? no

i was SO so nervous to post this omg, cause not only is this a long ass chapter, but i wanted to make sure to give proper explanation to present day events. i hope i did it justice! lmk what y'all think!!

writing a flashback chapter was so fun?? might do at least another one at some point

also i meant to mention this in a previous chapter, but reader's cousin rafael is actually based on an older cousin of mine (who has the same name but we all call him by a nickname) who actually has a similar-ish relationship with me as reader does with her cousin (he and i are only a year apart tho and reader & her rafael are several years apart), but dw my cousin is still alive sdklfjslsldkfj

btw pls notice that rivers cafe is an actual place in the games hehe (so was ruston coffee in the last chapter)

oh also if you have ever been sexiled before, i am so sorry and you will see heaven as reparations (i on the other hand will not as i have been a sexiler myself oops)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa

please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist or if you'd asked previously and i missed you!

[lem0nshark-writes]

"Shores"

Daemon Targaryen x Male Reader

Type: fluff

Word count: 1052

Warnings: dragonback riding, trip down the memory lane, fluff, light teasing, reader is chaotic and so is Daemon

A/N: Request by a lovely reader on wattpad with dragonback riding + fluff for Daemon! 💕 I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update it! I hope you have an amazing day! 💕

With sun hanging low above the sea horizon but the sunset not yet in sight Daemon and you rode side by side on your dragons above the calm waters.

There was no mission happening, no where to be, the two of you just wanted to feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your skin, and let your beloved dragons stretch their wings and enjoy some fun in the warm skies.

You chuckled wholeheartedly as you and your dragon passed over Daemon and his, making a loop and getting back to his left where you previously rode side by side with him before speeding before him, daring and challenging him to a race.

Daemon smirked, never being the one to back down a challenge, and his dragon raced right behind you.

You turned back to look at him grinning, not too far ahead, before having your dragon take on an even faster pace, riding along the coast and towards the sunset.

He followed suit, not taking too long to finally catch up with you and then once caught the four of you settled for a calm cruise, dipping down closer to the surface.

You closed your eyes happily, content feeling settling in your chest. Feeling the wind pick up your hair, the sparkling salty droplets scattering across your face and the sun on your skin, and Daemon by your side, was there anything else you could ask for?

You opened your eyes, soft smile spread across your lips when your eyes fell on Daemon who was already looking at you, admiring your form.

You blushed slightly still smiling, "Enjoying the view?"

"Very much," he smirked, hands softly resting one on the other atop the reins of the saddle of his dragon.

Your grinned, dipping down further with your dragons to the water, so close that now the hind legs of your dragons touched the water surface, leaving a trail across the sea as they went.

Soon enough the warm light of the setting sun illuminated your figures, letting you two know it is time to return back to the shores.

And so you did, taking a sharp turn to your right the four of you set path towards the land, riding once again besides the shore till you found cozy enough spot to land on, getting off your dragons and with some kind and warm words and pets setting them off to lay and rest across the grassy hills above.

Light night breeze picked up your hairs as Daemon and you walked towards the little sheltered area by the bottom of the hill, your dragons resting above you.

You started the fire and settled beside its warm form, your head laying down in Daemon's lap as his long fingers played with the strands of your hair.

You looked up at your lover, smiling softly at him as he did so back, staring down at you lovingly.

His fingers moved from your hair to your cheek, thumb slowly going over the small scar on it, remembering how you got it - the same night the two of you first met, challenging a guy to a duel after starting a pub fight over the same guy calling him ugly, and you, well, being very drunk.

The whole scene made absolutely no sense to Daemon as the two of you never saw each other in life before, but it amused him so much that after everything had calmed down, and you handed the ass to that clown daring to insult him, Daemon approached you and the two of you spent the rest of the night talking and drinking together. It was one of the fondest memories to him and still to this day made him chuckle wholeheartedly whenever he remembered it.

You smiled up at him noticing the fond expression across his face, "What are you thinking about?"

"The night we first met," he smiled back, smile turning into a bit of a grin at it, "you really made a mess up there," he chuckled.

You chuckled too as you remembered, "Shhh I still don't remember half of that night, but I hear it was wilder than you speak of it," you grinned.

"Oh that's for certain, words cannot describe everything that went down," he laughed a little, "you lunatic."

You grinned and lifted yourself up just enough to kiss him on the lips, "you know you love me."

"That I do," he grins.

"And it couldn't possibly be worse than when we had to run from the guards-" you burst into a laughter remembering that one.

"You looked good in that old lady's dress I'm not going to lie-" he adds with a smirk, barely holding in a laugh.

"We nearly burned down a whole street and that's what you take of it??" you laugh.

"Hey it was a good fit for you," he laughed as well.

"Shut up," you grin.

"You love me," he smirks.

"That I do," you grin and cup his cheeks, pulling his face downwards so you can kiss him again. He gladly returns the kiss.

"And you looked marvelous in that blanket you wrapped yourself in, seriously what was that?" you chuckled at him, teasing his camouflage of choice.

"At this point thinking back I'm pretty sure it was some sort of a carpet, and an unwashed one judging by the smell of it-" he contorted remembering the stench of his chosen camouflage.

You burst into another laugh as he tried to stifle your mockery by starting to tickle you vigorously.

You tried to wiggle out of his hands and crawl away but he pulled you back by your hips and attacked even stronger. You squeamed and giggled underneath him, begging for mercy before he finally took pity upon you and stopped his vicious attack.

You breathed heavily as you tried to calm down, fingers wiping at the tears that formed at your eyes before lightly punching his chest, "you ass!" you grinned at him.

He grinned back, "You know you love me."

"That I do," you grinned again and kissed him once more as you settled back with your head in his lap and his fingers in your hair and the two of you continued your talk and trip down the memory lane deep into the night.

[iovebei]

SHOW OF GRATITUDE

while getting healed by you, lin gets an urge to thank you in the best way she knows.

featuring ⋆ lin beifong x f!healer!reader

content warnings ⋆ established relationship, unspecified age gap (this takes place after tlok ends!), soft lin, mentions of an injury for the plot, fluff, smut: fingering (that’s it!).

word count ⋆ 894

note ⋆ this is just a lil drabble for now, enjoy reading! let me know what you thought about this :)

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Lin could feel your hands roam over the expanse of her back. Her body relaxed as you worked your healing power over the tight knots that had formed from a lot of physical exertion.

She had told you countless times that she was in no need of your healing. But as time continued the pain in her shoulder got worse until she ended up in front of your apartment.

You soothed the wound on her shoulder tenderly, making sure the process was as painless as it could be for her, something she appreciated. It felt weird to be taken care of in such an intimate manner, but Lin could not ignore the pain in her shoulder any longer.

“Wounds take time to heal, Lin. Yours is a stubborn fucker. Just like you,” you mutter, working with a knot in her back that wouldn't loosen up.

She scoffed in response and sighed your name, “I’m sorry, I didn't listen to you.” Her apology was honest and simple— she understood what she did was wrong and then apologized for it.

You merely hum in response and then after a few beats of silence ask, “Is there pain elsewhere?”

“No,” she answers without hesitation. “I’m being honest,” Lin adds knowing the kind of look you’re giving her right now.

“Then we’re done here. It’ll take up to two weeks for your shoulder to be fully healed but if you don’t put too much strain on it, you’ll be able to go back to active duty in a few days.”

Lin turns to question but you stop her with a raised palm, “No, it can't be helped.” As expected, she deflates at your response and nods in confirmation.

You turn around and put your healing water away and Lin watches you as she does every day. There are a lot of wounds still fresh and open from her past but you embraced her for her— not chief, but her, Lin. Her good, bad, and ugly. You’ve seen it all yet never strayed away from her. She wonders what is so lovable about her, but she knows if she asked you right now, you’d give her a hundred reasons or more.

She got up from her chair and wrapped her arms around you from behind. “What’re you doing?” you ask, a hint of laughter in your voice. Lin presses a kiss to your shoulder blade and follows with more until she reaches your cheek.

You turn your head to the side, “Let me put these away first and then go to bed,” and then turn back around to put your scrolls away. Lin huffed, “You can do them later, come on,” she tugged at the opening of your robe, letting the string fall loose.

You give her a huff and grab her forearms. “You better help me with them,” she laughs and turns you around, “When haven't I helped you with anything?”

Before you’re able to respond, she catches your mouth in a soft kiss and lets her hand go up and down your sides. You sigh into the kiss and wrap your arms around her waist. Lin parts and nips your bottom lip, and smiles when you whimper.

Her hands move to shove the robe off your body and leans down to leave kisses down your neck and chest. You gasp for her and try to shift your hips to center your core on her thigh. Lin smirks at your impatience, she loved how needy you were for her.

“You look beautiful, darling,” she says earnestly, and you smile that pretty smile of yours. “Thank you, but if you’d just get on with it, I’d be much happier.”

“Don’t you mean in you?” she retorts cheekily, causing you to flush with embarrassment. She parts your legs with her and smiles at your lack of underwear.

“Good girl,” she praises and then moves to circle your throbbing clit with her middle and ring finger. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. “Oh— fuck,” you stutter out. Her lips once again find your neck and you roll your hips with need.

Lin moves two of her fingers down to your folds and shoves them into your soaking cunt. “You’re so wet for me, baby. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”

You gasp her name and grab onto her uninjured shoulder. “S’too much!” you moaned, back arching at her fast pace. “I got you, baby,” Lin caught your mouth in another searing kiss and pulled you flush against her.

Her fingers moved mercilessly inside you, “Gonna cum aren’t you, sweet girl?” she grins at your flushed face. “Mmhmm,” you whine, looking at her with teary eyes. “I’m gonna cum,” you moan breathlessly, “I’m gonna I’m gonnaI’mgonnafuckfuck!”

Lin’s other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you upright as you chased your orgasm. Her fingers kept moving inside you until she had you completely spent and slumped over her shoulder.

She smoothed a hand over your back and carried you towards your bedroom. “Lin,” you protested weakly, “Your shoulder’s still—”

“You’ll fix it for me, won’t you?” she asks, and you can picture a faint smirk on her face, giving her a mix between a sigh and a chuckle, you answer as she lays you down, “Of course, I will.”

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© IOVEBEI 2024. i do not allow my works to be reposted. translated. copied onto any other platform or blog. this is my only account.

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.4

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffmania, implied age gap, suggestive, forced proximity

author's note: Hi lovies, :( this part is coming to you very late >.< ! The semester is ending soon and I'm an academic weapon so I've been writing papers and studying, here's the fourth chapter for y'all :) ! I suggest you read this chapter while listening to "Strangers In The Night" by Frank Sinatra on repeat it sets the perfect tone for this chapter, enjoy...

word count: 1.6k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

You both looked down at your phones in disbelief. Your thoughts raced like a thousand wild stallions, galloping through your mind at breakneck speed What do we do? Will he have to stay over? How will he react when I tell him I have one bed? He couldn't fit on the couch to save his life. You thought to yourself trying to figure out what could be done.

"So a whole day here?" Miguel asked as the shock slowly dissipated from his face.

"Yeah, well I better lock up and turn the heaters on," you said as you got up the locked the doors.

"So uh, I live upstairs," you said awkwardly.

"Okay, I live several blocks down," He joked eliciting a chuckle from you as laughter danced lightly upon Miguel's chest.

"You know what I mean, I'm inviting you into my apartment," you said pointing at the stairs as a flush crept onto your cheeks.

"I'm just pulling your leg chula," he chuckled. You both walked up the stairs to your apartment. A melange of peppermint, gingerbread, and vanilla, like Santa's North Pole workshop in an aromatic form.

The fireplace crackled merrily, festive blankets were strewn across the couch, and a tray of gingerbread cookies patiently awaited their turn in the oven. Your apartment was the epitome of Holiday cheer and warmth. The exact opposite of Miguel's place. Which was currently dark cold and empty. Not a trace of color other than the black and dark blue that his interior designer had insisted on. But was the point of a home that didn't feel like anyone was living in it? Your house was all color. Your house had memories scattered over the wall just like in the shop. Your house had lights all around, messy blankets and pillows, dishes in the sink, and baked goods sprinkled all over the dining table.

"So sorry it's a little messy," you murmured timidly.

"That's fine, it's nice," he mumbled.

You both looked at each other awkwardly before turning away. "So, I only have one bed, and there's no way you're fitting on the couch so, I could take the couch," you thought aloud.

"Well I'm not going to make you sleep on your couch," he said.

"I'm fine with sharing the bed, as long as you don't make it weird," you said.

"Well you just made it weird by thinking that I was gonna make it weird," he quipped.

"Well, well, ditto," you rebutted.

"Ditto? Double ditto," he chuckled.

"Double double ditto times a million trillion gazillion," you giggled.

You both burst into a fit of laughter. You both agreed to take turns in the shower. You lent him your brother's old clothes that he had left the last time he visited. That was how Miguel ended up sitting on your couch with a generic pair of black and red plaid pj pants. With the ugliest ugly sweater on. You plopped down next to him, straight out of the shower.

Your hair smelled like fresh candy canes. He could smell it every time it would whip around when you cracked your neck. Your skin smelled faintly like sweet gingerbread and vallina. You had an interesting selection of Christmas-themed self-care. What's the use of 'sugar cookie' lip balm? I kind of want to taste it..., ew Miguel, he thought to himself.

"So since you have to spend all night and a whole day with me, you have to understand why I love Christmas so much. We're going to watch only the best holiday movie series ever, 'A Christmas Prince,'" you said excitedly as you got up and got some holiday treats and put them on the coffee table.

"This better not be some sappy romance," he groaned.

"Oh hunny, it's all the sap, all drama, and all stupidity and miscommunication. But that's what makes them so good," you explained.

Although Miguel was sure he would hate the movie, he was more invested in it than you were. Every time you would try to talk he would shush you, "I need to see what happens next," he would whisper as he strangled you squish mellow from anticipation.

You started messing with him by talking during the movie which got him so frustrated he threw a pillow at your face playfully. But you had taken this as a declaration of battle and started a pillow fight. It was full-on warfare and giggles all around. You could tell Miguel was holding back all of his strength because he could probably actually hurt you.

You pounced on Miguel, knocking him backward onto the couch. Pillows flew in the air around you as you both tumbled, your laughter turning into shared, breathless excitement.

You found yourself on top of him, faces inches apart, heartbeats racing. Your warm breaths hit each other's face, and you both lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

Miguel's playful smile slowly softened into something deeper, something more intimate. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, lost in that brief moment of connection.

Your breath caught as the intensity of the moment enveloped you. You felt a magnetic pull towards Miguel, an unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, and as your eyes locked, they shared a moment of understanding, a silent promise of what could be.

But just as quickly as it had come, the moment was broken by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, signifying to the two of you that the gingerbread was ready. The laughter returned, but now it held an extra layer of tension, a newfound awareness of the connection you had just shared.

You both get up, brush yourselves off, and head to the kitchen to take the baked goods out. "Why bake more when you have a million variants of baked goods everywhere?" Miguel inquired as he helped you put the slabs of gingerbread into your fridge to cool.

"I have to test and create the entire seasonal menu before I serve it," you explain.

"That sounds tiring..." he starts.

"No! It's actually really fun! Here try this red velvet cake," she said excitedly. Miguel was waiting for another opportunity to have your baking without having to outright ask you for some, and you knew that.

He took a bite and to no one's surprise, he loved it. But he wouldn't tell you that and tried not to let it show either. The rest of the night went on without a hitch until you were both exhausted. You took a look at the clock, [2:23 am]. Your eyelids felt heavier, and you could see Miguel start to blink for a little too long while trying to watch the third Christmas Prince movie. You used all the energy left in your body to get up. "C'mon big guy, we should get to bed," you said tapping his shoulder. All you got from him was a small smirk and picked up a pillow and whipped it at his face.

"You nasty!" you started before stopping and stomping into your room. Miguel followed you into your room chuckling lowly.

The moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, painting the room in muted silver hues as you and Miguel settled into bed. There was an unspoken tension between you two, a tangible distance that lingered in the cool air. The bed, once a refuge for dreams, now seemed an expanse to navigate cautiously. As the night unfolded, lost in the realm of dreams, you began to shiver subtly. Miguel noticed your discomfort, remembering you telling him that you were always cold.

With hesitancy, he inched closer, the space between you shrinking with each careful movement. The distance that had felt overwhelming moments ago now seemed trivial, as if the gravitational pull of shared warmth was irresistible. Miguel's arms encircled your body, a gentle cradle against the night's chill. His body heat became a lifeline, a silent promise to ward off the cold. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability of sleep and the unspoken connection that drew them closer.

You, amid a dream, sighed with the blissful surrender of someone finding solace. As Miguel held you close, your shivers ceased, replaced by a quiet tranquility. The once-distinct boundary between them dissolved into the shared warmth of the moment. In the hushed stillness, you emitted a soft, contented snore, a sound that resonated with an endearing charm. Miguel couldn't help but smile, finding the delicate symphony of her sleep both heartwarming and irresistibly cute.

Cuddling in bed wasn’t a part of the plan but you weren’t complaining. Your sweet scent invaded Miguel's senses. You smelled just as good as the cookies you had baked. Your skin was as soft as the velvety stockings you had hanging over your fireplace. He could stay like this forever. He never made wishes but he hoped and prayed that Medusa would come to him and turn him to stone so that he would never be able to let you go. He let fatigue carry him to dreamland, your snores acting as a fleeting melody in the silent serenade of the night.

Next... Pt.5

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@amber-content@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent

[fantisyoflove]

Snape's First Year Teaching[part 1]

*not my picture, I found it on pintrest*

Warning ⚠️ mentions of death. ⚠️

Chapter word count: 2392

Total work word count: 24,244

Enjoy 🥰

In Dumbledore's office you stand, hands behind your back, as you watch him pace.

"I have no doubt professor Snape is loyal to me, I just think that having you will persuade him a little more if need be."

"You want me to become friends with him?" You ask a little confused. Dumbledore had requested you spy for him, given your pure blood status and familial ties to other death eaters, but this seemed weird.

"Well, quite honestly Miss Burke, if you could be more than friends that might help" Dumbledore spoke as if they were discussing flavors of chocolate, not going under cover as a spy and trying to sleep with someone to help you gain access to more intell and secrets!

"Sir, I don't think I could..."

"Oh don't worry too much, If all goes well the person you pretend to be will be long gone after we win this war. That is still your intent isn't it? Saving countless lives?"

Damn, he really knew how to push you!

"Yes, sir." You said with a sigh.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, "Excellent! Then you are hired! I am sure you will be an excellent addition to our staff" the smile he gave seemed sweet and genuine but with the shadows from the candle light it made him look sinister.

*that night in the great hall, preparing for the sorting ceremony*

Professor Snape was sitting at the end of the very long table up front for staff, his head bent as he read a book under the table. Head resting in one hand, hair falling into his face despite his attempts to tie it back. You took a deep breath, 'atleast he's not ugly' you thought as you walked towards him. The seat next to him was vacant, in fact the next 3 seats beside him were. Nobody was looking in his direction and he seemed perfectly content reading alone.

Walking up to him you tapped on his shoulder and cleared your throat. Snape jumped and dropped his book on the floor. Turning to glare at you, he pushed the hair out of his face.

"Can I help you?" He hissed. You watched his hand pull his wand out of his inside cloak pocket, give it a little flourish and mutter under his breath. His book flew back onto his lap and you saw the same page as before.

"Oh, I umm... I am. I'm sorry. I was just going to ask if I could sit by you?"

His expression softened but he looked around the room suspiciously. You looked too, confused what he was searching for, maybe his friends that usually sat with him....

"Is this some kind of prank?" He whispered through gritted teeth.

"Prank? What? No! I just... I am ... I am just new here and thought maybe ...."

Snape put his hand up, "stop. I don't know who put you up to this but I am in no mood. Please leave me be. I sure there are plenty of other people you could sit next to."

Your face fell, "oh, um okay. I'm sorry. Again. Sorry" you stumble over your words and wring your hands together. Turning away you go to sit somewhere else. Unfortunately all the seats were now taken and the students were filling in the great hall doors.

Snape looked down the table and rolled his eyes "typical".

You took the chair immediately to his left and sat down. Dumbledore began his announcements, the usual stuff and then "... and also join me in welcoming our new potions professor. Professor Snape!" He paused for applause and there was a polite amount but Snape looked indifferent as he stood and took a small bow to the students before sitting back down. "As well as our new herbology Professor, Professor Burke." Another pause for applause. You stood and copied the bow Snape did but as you went to sit back down you bumped your chair and almost fell but Snape caught your arm. He pushed your chair back into place and then let go as you sat back down. He clasped both hands between his knees and stared at his empty plate. You lean towards him and whisper "thank you!" He relaxes his position a little but still doesn't look at you. 'What an odd man' you think.

"I'm sure you will make them both feel welcome! Now let the feast begin!" Dumbledore finishes and the house elf magic fills the room, the tables piled with food and drink.

You glance at professor Snape, he has taken a small piece of chicken, a scoop of peas, and a slice of buttered bread. You notice there isn't any pitcher's to get a drink for himself so you pass the water jug and the decanter of wine. He didn't turn his head but a shaky hand reached for the wine and poured himself a good size glass. You held out your hand for it once he was done and he passed it to you.

"Thank you, again" you said sweetly and smiled at him.

He nodded once but still wouldn't look at you. He took a few bites of his food, chugged his wine, muttered "excuse me", and then clumsily grabbed his book and a bag from under the table and ran to the door behind the teachers table.

You had barley raised your first fork full to your mouth by the time the door clicked shut.

Professor McGonagall leaned closer to you and whispered. "Don't mind Severus, my dear. He had a rough time during his school years making friends. I do think, though, like any wounded bird, it's best to approach them slowly." She gave you a wink and then turned back to her plate.

You nodded, "Thank you professor."

*A week of classes, getting used to things, setting up your office and creating lesson plans on the fly left you exhausted. You sat next to Snape at every meal he also attended and smiled and said hello to him in the halls and by Friday you were getting a nod back afterwards! Now Saturday morning you were sitting at breakfast enjoying your tea. You had to classes and nothing to do today. Most professors grabbed food to go and went about their day but you decided to sit in the dinning hall*

"Hello."

You turn to see Snape standing there awkwardly. A book tucked under his arm and his bag hanging loose on his shoulder.

"Hello professor! " you scoot your plate over and move the book you had open on the table. "Please," you gesture to his usual chair and see a small smile in the corner of his lips.

You remember McGonagall's advice and wait quietly as he settles in and starts eating. You figured if he doesn't say anything before he finishes eating then you will ask him how his first week went. You pretend to be engrossed in your book, taking bites or sips every other page.

Snapes eyes keep darting from you, to his plate, to the book left unopened beside him. His once steady hand shaking enough that his eggs plop back onto the plate. He sets his fork down with a little too much force causing you to jump.

"Everything alright?" You ask trying to catch his eye.

He nods and looks away from you, towards the door near the table. 'Hes going to bolt' you think 'it's now or never'. You open your mouth to speak but before you do he turns back to you suddenly and says a little louder than necessary, "howhasyourweekbeen?"

"I'm sorry? What did you..." he cut you off

"No, um how, ha..oow" his voice is quivering. You notice how young he truly is. Like you, probably only 20, 21 years old. How had he gotten mixed up with death eaters enough that they trusted him AND Dumbledore was using him to spy? He was so young, he deserved to live a life free of this war. And that's what you would keep telling yourself if this worked. People like him, all the children in this castle right now, and countless others will be saved if you can take down he who must not be named.

"How was your first week" he sputtered out. His neck was bright red and the red was quickly creeping up to his cheeks. He was sitting on his hands and having a hard time meeting your eyes for too long.

You smiled softly to him, "it was good. My students were very understanding with my last minute lesson plans." You closed the book you were reading and turned a little to face him

"Why were your lesson plans last minute?" He wrinkled his nose a bit, seemingly disgusted by your lack of planning.

"Oh, ermm, well Dumbledore called upon me last minute to work here. Before I was traveling and doing research and such. I guess they had an opening they hadn't filled yet, and well here I am" you finished with a shrug.

Snape gave you a quizzical look but then made his face blank again.

"So, how was your first week?"

He turned back to his breakfast but paused to mumble, "fine".

"That's good! I love potions they are a little hobby of mine. If I hadnt gone into Herbology I would have mastered potions" he seemed to brighten up at this and turn back to you.

"Really?"

"Well yea! I feel like we will probably be working together a lot given I grow a lot of the ingredients you need and you make the repellents. So I'm told."

"True, is that... is that why you're being so nice to me?" This was the first time he made direct eye contact with you and held your gaze. You smiled, "well kinda. But also because I figured we are both new professors and it might help if we stuck together. My parents moved around a lot when I was young so I changed schools a lot... I never really felt like I had any real friends"

A look came over his face that you couldn't quite read but it made you feel like you should hold him. Maybe one day. But for now you just held his gaze .

"You ever feel like that?"

He dropped his fork on the ground and in the attempt to retrieve it he knocked over his cup of juice onto his book and your lap. A slew of curses flew out of his mouth as he tried to right everything. Grabbing napkins and dropping back down to the ground. You grabbed your wand and tapped the cup 3 times before whispering the enchantment to make every drop of liquid return to the cup. You got up and moved the chair out of the way and held both your hands out to help him up. He looked close to tears but grabbed both your hands and stood. He glared at the floor and started grabbing his stuff growling "stupid, stupid, stupid" as he stormed out of the great hall.

You pushed in both your chairs and noticed a few eyes still staring your way. You gave a sarcastic wave and suddenly those eye were VERY interested in the plates on the table.

You grabbed your things and followed after Snape. Using a more complex spell you followed his foot prints calmly and quietly. They led to his office and then down to the further corridors that led outside. Soon you found yourself along the edge of the black lake and Snape was up ahead. He sat under the shade of a large oak tree, just barely visible by his hair blowing in the wind. You heard a small sniffle and soft crying. You put your wand away and came up along the shore line trying not to startle him.

"Pro.. professor Snape?" You called out. The sobbing stopped and you watched him jump to his feet and go further behind the tree.

"Go Away!" He hissed

"Severus? Severus, please. I promise you I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I said go away! Or are deaf and stupid!" He snapped.

You gritted your teeth. Biting back SEVERAL things you would like to say to him and taking in a breath.

"Look," you circled around the tree trying to look at him but he mirrored your steps so he was always hidden. "I don't know what your life has been like but you can trust me"

You heard him scoff, "you! Trust you? I don't even know you! For all I know your just some silly little girl sent by someone to make a fool out of me!"

Your breath hitched because he wasn't far off.

"I don't want to make a fool out of you! And I'm hear because I care Severus. Please come out. I promise nothing bad or mean will happen to you. Please just let me apologize to your face. I didn't mean to spill that," he stepped out from behind the tree.

"Apologize? Apologize for what!?" He snarled. His eyes were puffy and red and his nose was leaking a bit. You held out your handkerchief. He snatched it away from you and turned to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

"For spilling that juice and for scaring you away"

"But you didn't do that," he whispered. "I did, I'm a blithering idiot who just wanted to talk to you and and then then I and I" he started hiccupping and crying again. You reached forward and touched his shoulder only for him to jerk away.

"Severus..." you start but he whips around and screams, "I said go away! You stupid little girl!" he is inches from your face. You don't back down even though your body flinches away. You stand on your tiptoes to look him in the face.

"FINE!" You growl back. You step closer to him and he takes a half step backwards. "You know I thought you would be different! But you're just like everyone else. A bully!" You spin on your heel and stomp away.

Behind you Snape'a face falls and his shoulders slump. "I'm sorry" he says under his breath to himself. He knows you can't here he from this distance. The tears fall freely now and he clutches your handkerchief to his chest, slumped against the tree, he melts down to the ground and lays there in the shade of the tree.

Also avaliable on my ao3 😻

[youremyheaven]

Do you think those influencers who dramatically switch from very left wing Marxist alternative etc to very trad Christians (specifically in homophobic/transphobic way) have ketu influence?

You were talking about ketuvians and their struggle to find a sense of self and it made me think of these types of people. I know someone with ketu 1H and magha moon who did this to an extent. She used to identify as non binary and was constantly shifting through different names and pronouns but then one day she just kind of stopped and started saying how she thinks pride is pointless and a waste of time or whatever😭 it wasn’t *that* extreme but I still thought it was a significant shift in belief in such a short time.

I think a lot of people have this dramatic shifts not only out of a need to identify with something due to a lack of sense of self, but also because they like going back to what their parents believe for comfort. I guess those two are interlinked but it’s interesting how my friend is a magha moon and magha is associated with ancestors and whatnot.

I guess mula is somewhat similar as “the root”? Idk about ashwini though

Sorry I haven’t actually had the chance to look into examples since it’s hard to find birth data for influencers and I don’t know that many examples irl 😶‍🌫️ so this is me just going on a tangent and hoping you get what I’m trying to say LMAO

I’m also not sure if anyone else is familiar with this phenomena or if I’m just too engrossed in niche internet drama.

In terms of influencers I guess a somewhat prominent example is Freckle Zelda on tiktok? I never followed her but she went from making cutesy safe space liberal type content in like 2021 and now she’s a Christian and is using it be to super controversial. But like I said I’ve never followed her so idk if this is dramatic enough of a switch to count as what I’m saying.

I also feel like this a rahu trait to switch between extremes🤔 idk lmk what you think

I feel like the capitalist commodification of identity has most adversely affected Nodal people.

If you think about it, spirituality's aim is to transcend the "self" entirely, you stop identifying with labels and attaching yourself to this or that thing. I'm not saying you cease to be a person but you stop trying to "accumulate" identities to hold on to.

9/10 times the reason we identify with something is to feel a sense of belonging but searching outwards for it will only lead to disappointment, when we search within and feel at home within ourselves, we lose the need to externally confined ourselves to rigid "identities"

Yk how people dye their hair, get piercings/tattoos etc to mark a new chapter or the end of an old one or whatever??? It is an attempt to claim something as "yourself" and "solidify yourself". Everything changes all the time, everybody changes yet there are many people who will never dye their hair or change their name or join a cult or whatever (not that all these things are the same) its just that if you're at peace with yourself and truly grounded, you will no longer be shopping for different identities or things to associate with.

Yk those people who have IG bios that read like "Mother, Pluviophile, ESFJ, Petrolhead, UJC'22, Missourian, Ancient Spirit, 1/4th Cherokee, Bitcoin Enthusiast, EDM Lover"

like what do any of those terms say about them?? how on earth is any of this central to your identity? all of these are external ??? is loving rain and being a petrolhead central to your sense of self?? im not trying to demean anybody's interests, im only trying to point out that what we choose to make the focal point of ourselves is up to us and its possible to not be defined by anything?? i think a truly ugly consequence of capitalism is how people try to define themselves by things outside them (their interests, hobbies, job, income level, marital status etc etc) because there is more to a person than all that.

when we retreat within, we base our sense of self on our qualities like kindness, compassion, creativity (this becomes the essence of who we are) so we don't feel the need to claim 87373 other things to describe ourselves

some people overly identify with others like their partners, friends or even strangers and kind of become them. this is also the root of stan culture, by being obsessed with someone to that extent and giving them all your time and energy, you are losing your own qi and harming your Sun (the same way criticizing the appearance of others ruins your Venus)

Rahu is prone to taking things to extremes and Ketu is prone to trying on different identities and losing interest in all of them one after the other. so your observations are right.

i dont really use social media so i dont know any influencers that i can quote as examples ;-; but im thinking of certain celebrities who have had drastic style changes in the past and all of them have nodal influence lol

in the 2000s, the Olsen twins were known for their boho chic hippie style and over the last decade or so they have become known for their "quiet luxury" style. They are Magha Moon

Julia Fox is Ardra Rising and she went from basic to avant garde

Jared Leto, Mula Sun, Ashwini Moon & Rising , he's also the leader of a cult allegedly so👀i guess it all adds up

Adele, Mula Moon & Ardra Rising

im not just talking about her weight loss, just her overall change in style. she got married young and had a baby and in a couple of years she got a divorce and revamped her look to that of an ig baddie

Kylie Jenner, Swati Moon she's changed her style/demeanour every other year since the early 2010s lol

Taylor Swift, Ardra Moon has also had many diff lewkzz throughout the years

before anybody says dont celebs change their styles often?? no they dont, not everybody for sure. look at Jennifer Lopez or Sarah Jessica Parker, theyve been dressing the same since the 90s. constantly evolving style/looks/personality is a Nodal thing. its also a big part of the reason why Nodal people succeed in the entertainment industry and in the material realm (a lot of rich people including Bezos have Nodal placements) because entertainment = illusion, pretending to be someone you're not and for Nodal people, this is pretty much second nature.

im sorry that my response is kind of all over the place. your question provoked some thoughts within me lol and i just had to shareee

i cant think of celebs who have drastically changed their life paths like the example u cited ;-; EXCEPT Bridget Mendler who is an actor, singer, and entrepreneur, has a PhD and went to Harvard Law and now runs a satellite company?? she also adopted a kid during all this? She has Mula Sun

anywayyys thats it for now

tysm for sending this ask!!! its a very thought provoking and interesting question<33hope u have a good day<33

[consistentsquash]

SEXPOSITION!!!! :D @danpuff-ao3!!!!

Sorry not sorry about the capitals screaming because this stuff is lit. It's 630 pages single bookbinding!!!! OMG. Danni really said go big or go home!!

Original rec list on Tumblr - The goal of this list was to rec Snarry fics great about using sex for exposition with a huge dick to word count ratio. The Big Dick Energy of these fics are totally 110% matched by the Big Dick Energy of the bookbinding Danni did :D Also I probably am the luckiest reccer and maybe one of the top 1% (suck on that Bernie!!!) because Danni bound my rec list and whoa total honor :D :D Better than getting into Library of Congress :D

lots and lots after the cut :D :D it took me forever because my roof was like 50% roof and needed to fix that but pic time now :D :D

Ok, this book is from Busy Bee Book Bindery! It's got the coolest seal ever :D :D Also look at the special guy on the right :D we are flying :D

Also from the side

Also check out The Table of Contents!!!

1. Entwined by rexluscus

Danni picked the perfect symbol for this fic. It's dirtyhotbadwrong and its really really codependency :D

2. Pink Slip by Cluegirl

To be honest the corset is the One Image which just stays in my brain forever about the fic. I mean Voldemort one and the Order folks are now "fosterlings" and things are really dirtybadhotwrong but the corset imagery lives in my head rentfree :D Danni really got that one right :D :D

3. made to be broken by @theshopislocal

Really love the feather/light/vulnerability vibes of the symbol. It totally matches the beautiful fic with vulnerable Snape written in classic Snarry slash vibes.

4. Warm by @perverse-idyll

Warm :D Total vibe match for the PWP established relationship comfort read vibes of the fic. Because this is the Snarry PWP and established relationship fic as far as I am concerned :D

5. Green Grow the Rushes, O by eldritcher

I mean this one really is the perfect symbol again :D Harry has a jackal's head like Anubis because he is that good bad at Animagus stuff. The Snarry bestiality fic/creature fic as far as I am concerned :D

6. The Unforgivables by Dementor Delta and Cruise Director

I love love love the super direct symbolism of the wand in this fic :D It's just like Harry :D Kind of Slytherin and sneaky, kind of Gryffindor and risktaking :D Also lots of dumb luck and it works out :D

7. No Sex, No Galleons by Ziasudra

I mean literally nobody is paying Snape a ton of Galleons for his services :D Bad joke but I really love the symbolism of that for the fic which has a ton of characterization and dynamics around the concept of worth <3

8. Contempt by @danpuff-ao3

The most Snarry fic of 2020s for me <3 I am pretty much totally burned on Snarry because I feel satisfied and a big reason for that is Contempt. It was so brilliant, perfect and I don't really feel like reading new Snarry at the moment :D Also a perfect image for the fic. Innocence, guilt, beauty, ugliness, imperfection, flaws, penetration lots and lots of symbolism in that <3

9. Mostly Harmless by EmilyWaters1976

The imagery of the manacle is super on point for this fic which is dark, dubcon bittersweet with a happy ending :D

10. Death and the Open Mind by Loup Garou.

The final fic is super long at like 43000 words. I mean!!! That's like 150 pages!! 150 pages!! Danni is insane and brilliant. I really love the skull rose imagery which is perfect for the fic which is dark, dirtybadhotwrong and really really beautiful.

Also the intro :D

Also one of my fav parts from Contempt

Going to bed with Severus — to actually sleep — is Harry's favorite part. It's a bit awkward because they haven't discussed it, but Severus doesn't dissuade Harry from following him. The bed is lumpy and creaky and small. Severus is too bony to be a comfortable bedmate. Harry latches onto him all the same.

Also one of my fav parts from Warm

It was everything Harry wanted. It was the sort of sex he'd thought he could never have, and it made him so giddy he almost laughed out loud.

Also one of my fav parts from Green Grow the Rushes, O.

He has done his best to ward the boy in. He has done his best to follow the boy. But the boy is no longer a boy. With Minerva's voice, with a jackal's head, with skulls on his torso dying off one-by-one, he is godly and bestial, of no father's seed, of no mother's make.

Also of course back of the book

Also This got here by OWL POST

[heykoonsy]

Word Count:  2.8k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: “Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language, graphic depictions of a panic attack

Author's Note: Whoops! I forgot to post the second part! This chapter proceeds one of my favorite scenes in this whole series. Enjoy, I'll post the next chapter next week.

Angel Dust turned over in bed, his attempts at ignoring his phone proving difficult if not impossible. He’d been lying there all morning, tossing and turning and fighting the urge to vomit. Angel sat up for a moment, grabbing his phone and opening it. He went to his chat with Cherri, which he’d been opening up every few minutes despite the fact that he knew he hadn’t gotten a response yet. 

He was thinking with a clear head now–well, as clear as his head could be after a night of booze and miscellaneous pills. It seemed to throb in response to the memories of last night, so he rubbed his temple with his available hand. He read his texts to Cherri over and over again. 

Hey

About last night

I wanted to say that i’m sorry, it wasn’t right to ditch you

With everything going on these days i’ve been a fucking mess babe

He sighed, looking at the time stamp on each text. No response–and he knew he wouldn’t be receiving any any time soon. Not after how he acted. Fuck, he was lucky that Cherri tracked him down and got him home safe. Of course, he was too much of an ass last night to realize that. When she dropped him off at the door of the hotel, he’d chosen to thank her for her kindness by flipping her off and blaming her for his blue balls. 

He was despicable. 

He turned off his phone before setting it down on the nightstand by his bed. He sighed, his eyes going anywhere else. Like towards his disaster of a room. His pile system had reared its ugly head but Angel couldn’t muster up the energy to get out of bed. A clean room was overrated anyway, he found his things just fine. 

Angel brought his knees into his chest, hugging them as his eyes caught Fat Nuggets passed out on top of his dirty clothing pile by the door. By the looks of it, Angel had obscured his bed again. If he couldn’t bring himself to do laundry, the least he could do was take Fat Nuggets on a walk. He wasn’t completely useless. 

Angel rose and threw on some presentable clothing. Fat Nuggets woke up by the time he’d put his shoes on and was nudging his leg with his snout. Angel patted his head. 

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Fat Nuggets sprang into action, digging around the laundry piles for where his leash had been discarded. He brought it to Angel triumphantly, and waited patiently for Angel to put it on. 

Angel walked into the lobby with Fat Nuggets at his side. He looked over at the bar to see Husk cutting a bunch of fruit into slices. Just the smell of the citrus reminded him of all the lemon drops he did last night. Fat Nuggets pulled on his lead to go towards him, but Angel picked him up and took him outside.

Once outside, Angel breathed in some of the fresh air. He put Fat Nuggets down, and he seemed to huff at him. 

“Sorry Nugs, Daddy is feelin’ sick today,” he said softly. 

The two of them embarked on their walk together. Angel figured that he would go towards the park today since there were always food trucks parked alongside the street. His stomach gave a hearty rumble at the thought of a greasy hot dog–or better still–a set of tacos with loads of sour cream. Angel could barely contain his excitement so he picked up the pace. 

They arrived at the park in no time and Angel looked around to see which vendors he had the pleasure of choosing from today. The mini pancake truck, the mini donut truck…fuck yes, there she was–Torch’s Tacos–parked in plain view with no line. The sight almost brought a tear to his eye. He walked over quickly, wanting nothing more than to order his favorite hangover food. 

He stepped up to the truck and ordered quickly–and Torch, the owner–came out to pet Fat Nuggets as his employees made his tacos. In a few minutes, Angel sat down at a park bench and chowed the fuck down. While he ate, Torch came over and slapped a plastic dish that was full of fixin’s for Fat Nuggets. 

“On the house,” Torch said happily. “He’s adorable.”

Angel thanked him and Fat Nuggets started eating heartily. 

Once breakfast was over, Angel threw all the scraps in a nearby trash can. He wanted to eat more, but his hangover would only allow so much food to go in at once. Angel hoped that it would all stay down–he really didn’t want to repeat this cycle thirty minutes from now. Regardless, he stood and began walking around the park. Fat Nuggets oinked happily as they made their way through, sniffing anything that he came into contact with. 

Then, as they made their way out of the park and down the street, Angel felt a pang of nausea hit him out of nowhere. He felt his stomach begin to ache and his mouth began producing mass amounts of saliva. He swallowed, which only made it worse. He looked around towards several businesses–none of which were open. He started to think that a nearby alley would suffice, until he saw a cafe. 

Angel walked as calmly as he could towards the cafe and only when he walked inside and saw the sign for the restroom did he start running. Angel threw open the door and walked into the only stall and threw up everything he had eaten. Fat Nuggets paced at his legs, no doubt worried about him. 

“Daddy’s okay, Nugs,” Angel managed out before another wave of nausea hit. “Fuck me,” he said before he gagged again.

A few minutes later and everything Angel had eaten–as well as the alcohol that had settled at the bottom of his stomach–was gone. He went towards the sink and washed out his mouth. He looked at himself in the mirror. The mascara that he’d put on last night was smudged–the tears from his vomit-session staining his cheeks black. He grabbed a paper towel and began cleaning himself up. 

Angel made his way towards the door of the cafe quickly, not making eye contact with anyone within the small building. He’d done his best to clean up–but he still looked like shit. Now was not the time to meet with a fan or a colleague–that was for fucking sure. He stepped onto the sidewalk, taking in the fresh air again. 

“We better get home Nugs, before Daddy pukes again.” 

“Well, if it isn’t the Angel Dust,” a voice called from the door of the cafe. 

Angel looked over, and his eyes widened in shock. 

“Agony,” Angel said, nearly breathless.

“Long time no see,” Agony said, walking towards him. 

“Yeah, sorry for not keeping in touch after…” Angel trailed off. 

Agony let the silence hang in the air, and it seemed like he was waiting for Angel to say something. 

“Agony, I–

“I already know,” Agony’s eyes snapped over to Angel.

Angel knit his eyebrows together, “What do you mean?”

“I know why Valentino canceled Brut’s project,” he said, his shoulders tensing as he spoke. 

Angel Dust hesitated for a moment. He wanted to say something–anything–but the fact that Agony knew was sending his head in a spin.

“Do you know what it’s been like? For me?” Agony said, the hurt evident in his tone. “The work dried up after I was let go–anything I get now is because of some friends in the industry.”

“Have you heard from–

“What do you care? Your career is doing just fine last time I checked, Mr. Best Male Performer. Congrats on the nomination by the way.”

Angel felt Fat Nuggets tug on his leash. “Agony, you have it all wrong.”

“What, you didn’t get me and Brut fired?”

Angel shifted his weight awkwardly. “It was Val, he–he was pissed that I–

“I don’t need your excuses,” Agony said. “Tezan told me everything.”

Angel clammed up, his eyes searching Agony’s. “I don’t know what he told you, but Tezan isn’t–

“This isn’t about him, Angel.” Agony said. “It’s about you.”

“I’m sorry that I got you fired,” Angel said, his voice higher than he wanted it to come out. 

“This isn’t about the job, Angel! All these months and you never checked on me to see if I was okay.”

Angel stood there as Agony lowered his head. 

“I didn’t just lose my job, I lost my friend,” Agony said after a few moments.

Angel took a step closer to him, and Agony recoiled. “I wanted to make things right, that’s why I–

“I don’t care,” Agony spat out. “Delete my number–if you even saved it in your phone in the first place.”

Angel watched as Agony walked away from him and the small crowd that was gathering around them as they fought in the street. Angel grabbed Fat Nuggets and took off running in the opposite direction. He ran as fast as he could–the wind stinging his eyes as he made his way towards the hotel. When he got there, he stopped just inside the door.

He breathed deeply, Fat Nuggets struggling to break free of his hold. Angel let him down and he scuffled towards the bar. 

“You good, kid?” Husk said from across the lobby. 

Angel heard the words echo in his head. He looked over at Husk, who was coming around the side of the bar towards him. His heavy breathing soon became gasps. 

“Kid?” Husk prompted, Fat Nuggets following him as he began walking over with more urgency. 

Angel brought his hands to his head, cupping his palms around his temples as he tried to will himself into calming down. His gasping turned into choked sobs in the blink of an eye and tears began streaming down his face. 

“Angel,” Husk said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Angel felt his touch, and his entire body jolted from the contact. He threw himself back, and Husk stepped closer. 

“Go away,” Angel’s voice strained against his sobs, his hands going to the floor to pick up Fat Nuggets. Once he gathered him in his hands, Angel started towards the stairs–to his room. 

But Husk grabbed his arm, stopping his progress towards his place of solitude. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Angel spat out quickly and tore his hand away. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

Angel didn’t spare him another glance before he ran away. He sprinted to his room, setting Fat Nuggets down on his bed as he paced. He tripped over laundry piles as he walked around his room–trying to calm himself down. But instead of quieter, his sobs became louder, echoing in his bedroom. He covered his mouth, feeling his tears stream down them as well. 

All he could think about was his exchange with Agony. The guilt and shame washed over him all over again in an instant. All those weeks that Angel had been agonizing over his role in getting Agony fired he hadn’t reached out once. He hadn’t even thought about it. He just resigned himself to believing that Agony wouldn’t want to hear from him. 

Then, his mind went to Tezan.

Not only did he manage to figure out that Spitzers was opening his own agency–he’d somehow caught on that Angel was arranging for Brut and Agony to join him. In one foul swoop, Tezan had managed to destroy everything. 

Angel wiped at his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming, but they wouldn’t subside. But without looking where he was going, Angel tripped on a pile of laundry and fell forward. He picked himself up, planting his ass on the floor with his bed to his back. He pulled his knees into himself and cried harder. 

Angel barely heard the door open, and when he looked up he saw Husk. 

“Would you just go?” Angel asked him, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. 

“No,” Husk said. 

Angel hid his face in his arms, the urge to hide himself coming as easily as his tears. 

Husk didn’t say anything–he simply came and sat down next to Angel. At first, the intrusion was unwelcome. Angel wanted to push him towards the door until he was able to slam it in his face. But all he could do was cry. 

“Please leave,” Angel begged.

“Take some deep breaths,” Husk said quietly. 

Angel clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to make any loud noises. He breathed in through his nose slowly and when he exhaled, another sob came out.

“Get outta my room!”

“Would you just let me sit with ya!?”

Angel looked at Husk, and threw his fuzzy vision he made out Husk’s concerned expression. He blinked and several tears fell away onto his cheeks. Angel hid his face again, this time, doing as Husk asked and started to focus on breathing. He struggled to get some air around his sobs–but he did well enough. He stuttered on a few inhales, but after a while, even his tears stopped. 

He followed his breaths in and out, feeling his lungs swell and deflate. The sensation soothed him. When it looked like he was through the worst of it, he looked over at Husk. He was sitting with one leg crossed and the other bent looking at his hands as they lay on his lap. He didn’t look over at Angel once, which he supposed he should be grateful for. Angel looked and felt like a mess–Husk didn’t need to see that. 

“I’m fine now,” Angel sniffed. 

Husk didn’t look at him, instead choosing to close his hand into a fist.

“I’m serious, you don’t need to be here.”

This time, Husk did look over at him–and his face seemed tired. 

“What?”

“You’ve been off for a while now,” Husk said, his eyes finding the piles of laundry in front of them. 

Angel tried to think back to his interactions with Husk. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

It seemed that Husk wasn’t willing to elaborate either, because he shrugged.

“I’m good,” Angel lied, “Really, I don’t need you here.”

“You’re in the pits, ain’t ya?” Husk looked at him dead in the eyes.

Angel clammed up, he looked away from him, suddenly not to keen on eye contact.

“I don’t care if you tell me or not, but I’m gonna sit with ya until you get it figured out.”

“Then you’re gonna be sittin’ for a while,” Angel remarked bitterly. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Husk didn’t say anything after that, just continued to sit with Angel. To be honest, it was making him kind of uncomfortable. He wanted to fill the silence–no–he needed to. 

“Things haven’t been goin’ that great for me, not really.” Angel said after a long while. 

Husk remained quiet. 

“I was working on a project with some real talent a few months ago. Valentino wanted me to charm an investor so we could fund advertising, but I got too close and Valentino blacklisted him.” Angel recounted. “Valentino dropped the project and everyone lost their jobs. He then made me whore myself out to other investors.”

Husk listened without batting an eye.

“After Valentino started working with him, I didn’t feel safe at work so I got rid of him the only way I knew how.”

Husk nodded his head, no doubt recalling the situation. He’d given him the advice that prevented Tezan from bothering him too much at work.

“I recorded him badmouthing Valentino–so he blacklisted him too,” Angel sighed. “But he’s held a grudge, and I guess I can’t blame him.”

Husk waited for Angel to continue.

“The first investor? I ran into him and he was doing perfectly fine despite the blacklist–so I told him that he should open his own agency. I even steered him towards that talented director that Valentino fired.”

Angel smiled bitterly as he recalled the conversation with Spitzers. He was so happy that he might actually be able to fix his mistake from before by giving Brut and Agony work again. But…

“The other investor caught on to my plan I guess and met with my co-star, Agony. He told him that I was the reason the project got dropped. He said he couldn’t find work, and…” Angel trailed off. 

Husk waited patiently for him to continue, but Angel wasn’t sure that he could. He finally realized what Agony was saying to him in front of the cafe. 

“He told me he was in the pits–and he didn’t have me there to sit with him,” Angel said, his eyes stinging with tears again. He hid his face again, letting his tears fall quietly. Then, he felt Husk’s hand on his back. He didn’t jolt this time, or try to shake him off. Instead, he allowed Husk’s gentle touch to soothe him.

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[vllergy]

emerges from the ether for 5 seconds before vanishing again--i don't post here often i go through phases, the moon has phases i have phases whatever but i've been playing a lot of b@lders g@ate and while i don't think i'll ever feel comfortable writing canon character content (maybe h@lsin??? g@le??? who knows) this one NPC interaction had me by the throat. feat: tw: canon courtesan/sex worker NPC, kink!reader, second person narration since the game is like that, hunky sneezy drow man, honestly a lot of build up for little payoff im sorry idk what happened. i also don't know the word count im useless (dialog is in-game dialogue up until the lil time skip to his room, then it's all me baybbyeee)

The drow is one of the most handsome you’ve ever seen. Not that you expected him to be ugly, of course. The fabled drow twins of Sharress’ Caress are known far and wide for their talents as well as their beauty. Its just, seeing them in person is quite different from sustaining on mere rumor alone. Sorn Orlith, as he introduces himself, is rather muscular for a drow. He stands nearly a good head taller than you with a broad, brazenly defined chest. His outfit is nothing more than a metal cage topped over his heavy shoulders and flared out down his sternum like witch’s fingers, pointing towards an abdomen taut with muscle.

His long skirt rides around his hips but you can still see the shadow of indents against bluish-gray skin there, as if they are inviting you to take a closer look. They likely are. Nothing about his appearance is not meticulously crafted to draw you in. From the slight sheen on his lips that are plush and naturally the color of ripe blueberries, to the way his wintry hair is falls effortlessly back from his face in perfect waves. He is a vision, and yet his eyes are not cold and imperious like you might expect. They’re warm. Inviting. Somehow kind, despite what kind of debauchery goes on in a place like this. 

You ask him how he ended up here in the first place. Apparently, the Underdark isn’t kind to male courtesans. Also, he was bored.

“The entirety of drow culture is obsessed with bondage beyond reason. While such activities have their charms, I yearned to reach greater depths.” He gives a dazzling smile. “And there is no society on this planet more laterally, imaginatively and confusingly depraved as that of Baldur’s Gate. Although of late, I do feel I’ve seen everything. Perhaps you’ll show me something new?”

Your throat goes dry. 

“I’m…glad you’re happy here,” you manage out. 

Sorn laughs, but not unkindly “I’d have to restrain myself far more than any play-bindings do if I worked in another field. This is a place where I can be myself boundlessly.” 

His arms widen, emphasizing the violet taut flesh of muscle in his shoulders and biceps. You do your best not to stare.

“There are so many who come to me speaking of a fixation that no one else has ever been able to share with them…” he leans close, “And never will again. 

He smells of bergamot and brandy. It’s intoxicating. “A once in a lifetime moment of passion. Every day. What could be better? Don’t you want to try it?”

You do. And he can tell. His grin widens, almost wolfish. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss my signature Menzoberranzan Love Trick.”

—

With the door to Sorn’s private room shut, you feel a sense of calm overwhelm you. The room is beautiful—long enough to be someone’s home, crystals and plants glowing in every corner, a bed surrounded by flowers, shadows in all the right places. It looks like it was plucked free from the most beautiful parts of the Underdark and brought here to Wyrms Crossing. It feels comforting. Safe. 

“Now, are you going to tell me about this little secret of yours? Or would you prefer to keep me in the dark?”

Sorn’s voice startles you and he slips a hand around your waist, nosing at your neck as he comes from behind you. He releases you at the reaction, but doesn’t make a show of it. He’s masterful at what he does. Reading his partner, gauging their comfort level, adjusting and maneuvering as necessary. Your blushing cheeks must give you away because he gives you an encouraging smile instead and reaches for your wrists.

“Come, let us sit first. I find it’s easier to talk like that.”

He leads you to the foot of the bed. The sheets are luxurious, obsidian satin, and the mattress sinks with your weight. He sits close, angling his body towards you, but not so close as to crowd you. Your knees touch. You can see his breath flexing the hardened muscles of his torso and chest as he lingers there, expectant but not impatient. His hands cover yours in your own lap.

“It’s perfectly all right to be nervous,” Sorn continues, “But I assure you, your secret is safe with me. And not only that, it is *treasured*. I meant what I said earlier. There is very little that surprises me these days. Should you present me with something unexpected, I will be noting more than delighted.” 

You avoid his eyes, despite how gentle they are. You’ve never said this in front of anyone. But he’s right. Odds are, there are multiple someones in Baldurs Gate who have stranger interests than you. Sorn has likely indulged them all and without complaint. As he said downstairs, he rather enjoys this aspect of his work. Still, your tongue is in knots as you work up the nerve to say it. Your eyes travel up from his chin to his perfectly shaped mouth, the cupids bow of his lips and then finally the long, aquiline shape of his nose. It’s a fine nose. Prominent on his face and somehow as elegant as the rest of him, it captivates your attention for a moment. 

When you realize you’ve been staring for a moment too long, the confession rushes out of you in a breath, “Sneezing.”

Your face feels like it might explode from the heat. Sorn blinks. You expect him to laugh, or tell you to leave the room, or some other horrible outcome but instead he merely tilts his head. His hands give yours an assuring squeeze.

“And what about it do you like, my love?”

You lean over with a groan. You truly cannot believe you’re having this conversation—but his warm chuckle sends something fluttering in your chest and you gather the courage to straighten back up again and look him in the eye.

“I’m…not quite sure, I just know I enjoy it,” you say carefully, “And when my partners do it.”

“Mmm,” he says, contemplating, “So you’d like it if I sneezed for you then?”

Your lips purse, holding the answer hostage in your throat. You nod helplessly instead. He laughs again and releases one of his hands to brush a knuckle along your cheek.

“Look how red you are, it’s positively darling. Was that all, little bird? That was what you were so afraid to tell me?”

You nod again, nearly in tears. It’s off your chest now and it feels incredible, but it’s also freeing in a way that makes you feel raw and exposed. He’s being so kind about it that you’re not quite sure how to react. Emotions clash together, warring for dominance inside the confines of your skull. 

Sorn seems to understand immediately. His hand skirts below your jaw and tips your chin up as he leans forward and captures your lips with his own. It’s a simple, nearly chaste kiss. So featherlight and innocent that it feels like the sun peeking through the clouds. “Shh, shhh,” he soothes as he pulls away, “I think it’s wonderful. I will say it’s the first time I’ve encountered it, but I think it’s quite endearing.” He pulls away a little further, leaving you breathless. His white smile gleams. “And what an exciting challenge besides!” 

He releases you fully and stands from the bed, his hands on his hips. He looks about the room, brow furrowed in concentration. You’re still a little dazed from the kiss, wondering how he manages to taste like brandy and sweetwine and smell as good as he does while also trying to get your brain to stop swimming. You blink a few times to get your bearings as Sorn stalks to one of his shelves.

“Now, the only trouble is—“ he starts as he rifles through a few things, “There isn’t much that makes me sneeze, I’m afraid.”

Your stomach wilts a bit. Perhaps it was too much to hope that this strapping drow would have a terrible allergy to lavender. Though, to be fair, he hardly looks like the type to be beset by anything so pedestrian. Sorn is so maddeningly put together. From his perfect hair, meticulous ensemble and finely crafted expressions, he is clearly a man that keeps up appearances. Decorum is important to him. Should he ever be laid low by an allergy, you imagine he would fight it with the all the dignity and stoicism he so proudly displayed. 

Still—you didn’t work up all this nerve just to get here and *not* have anticipated something like this happening. Shyly, you let your fingers linger over the vial in your pocket. 

“I…may have something that will help,” you say.

Sorn turns from the shelf with what looks like a raven feather in his hand, his eyes bright. He looks positively delighted at the news.

“Oh I love when my clients come prepared,” he says, “You are a dream.”

“We could try that first, though,” you say, gesturing to the feather. There’s definitely something to that idea and it’s already stirring a feeling in your belly that has you shifting on the bed and your heart rising. There’s no possible way Sorn can know this, but somehow you sense he does, because his eyes sharpen their focus on you and his grin goes syrupy. 

“Lovely,” he comments and returns to your side. As he sinks back into the mattress, he gestures a hand. “Is here all right? Or would you like to do it somewhere else?”

“Here is fine,” you choke out. The idea that this is happening, really happening, is making your brain turn to lightning. You can hardly wait. 

He holds out the feather to you, “I assume you’d like to do the honors?”

You nod. The feather has little weight to it, and it’s gorgeous up close. The black shimmers with hues of purples and blues in the low light, glimmering in the reflection of your eyes. You run your eyes along the length of it and then find yourself starting at Sorn again, heart in  your throat.

“Is it… all right if I touch you?” you ask. You lean forward, hand with the feather outstretched, but think you may need to position yourself a little closer and brace yourself on his shoulder to get a good angle.

“Darling,” he laughs. He suddenly seizes your wrist and brings you closer, lowering his voice near your ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

You gulp as he slides back, demure and innocent as if he hadn’t just made goosebumps appear along your arms and thighs with his words alone. A nervous smile paints your lips and you do finally take his shoulder in your hand. You’re kneeling almost into his lap at this point and to support you, he draws an arm around your back. It’s so intimate you’re almost dizzy with the closeness alone, and you haven’t even gotten to—

The feather brushes at the corner of his mouth and his mouth twitches in a smile. Even just that response alone makes your heart race. From there, you slowly move it up to the indent above his mouth, and then his septum. He wrinkles his nose, skin avoiding the stimulation on instinct before he wrests his control back. He smiles but says nothing, allowing you to continue. 

You draw the tip of the feather around one nostril. It quivers in response, but otherwise, Sorn’s eyes remained focused on you. You test a bit farther, drawing slow, soft circles. There isn’t anything for a few seconds, and then he starts to blink, irritated tears prickling in his eyes. He sniffs a few times and then has to cough, politely turning his head away on instinct as he does so. “Apologies,” he says and then grins, “What a strange sensation.”

“Are you all right?” you ask. 

“Very much so,” he nods, “Please, continue.”

You do, but to mixed results. You’re certainly irritating his nasal passages, but sadly not enough to make him sneeze. After a few minutes of attempting, all you’ve really done is making him cough and cry irritated tears. Disappointed, you’re about to give up when he takes your wrist again, holding the feather inside his nose.

“W-wait,” he says, “I had it for but a moment.”

Your heart stutters. Carefully, you twist the feather as you had been a moment earlier. His eyelashes, pale as new fallen snow, sweep his cheeks and a breath catches on the roof of his mouth. The hand that was around your wrist falls slack, fingers drifting down towards your elbow.

“Yes, I feel it,” he whispers. 

His grip around your back tightens and he draws in another breath. His eyebrows crumple and hoist upwards and his nose practically twitches. 

“Hh—hiiyh—“ 

As his expression snaps, you pull the feather away just in time. His head wrenches away as the sneeze whisks through him. 

“Hi-ISSHh!” 

It’s a spartan, nearly soft sound. Wet, given the amount of torture his nose has been put through for the last few unproductive minutes, but otherwise without frills or embellishments. It’s a very honest sneeze you think, but perhaps one he was not entirely prepared for. By his clenched teeth you think he might have held back at the last moment out of some sense of propriety. The way he lightly touches the backs of his knuckles to the underside of his nose in the aftermath and gives a delicate sniff further enforces your theory. 

Still, it was a sight. 

“Blessings,” you say, enraptured. 

Sorn recovers quickly and smiles at you. 

“Did you—snf—enjoy that? I am sorry it took so long.”

Your red cheeks are enough of a glowing recommendation, but you nod anyway. Feeling a little braver, and a little desperate for him now that you’ve seen him lose control the once, your hand slips down against his abdomen. The warm skin there flexes against your palm as he breathes in. He hums a soft noise of approval and clasps his hand over yours before leaning in to kiss you. There’s just the briefest moisture in the kiss, only you would ever notice it, and it sets your brain on fire. 

“Perhaps we should try your method instead,” he suggests when he pulls away for a breath, kissing a line across your jaw and to your throat next, “It might be more…productive.” 

You feel dizzy. His hand skirts along your thigh and meets the joint of your hip, squeezing with enough pressure to make you moan. 

“If you’re sure,” you say, “It can be…strong.” It’s only fair to warn him, after all. Everyone reacts differently, but you’ve never not seen it work on someone.

“All the better,” he hums against the hollow of your throat, nipping softly at the skin, “I simply won’t have you leaving here disappointed.”

You shift upwards to get access to your pocket. Sorn discards the sodden feather and watches with curious, eager eyes. When you reveal the tiny glass vial, he smirks. 

“I see,” is all he says before nodding his head toward the collection of pillows at the head of the bed, “Let’s get more comfortable first, shall we?”

Moments later, you’re lying side by side, both propped up by pillows and surrounded by the soft glowing plants and crystals that make a canopy of the bed. Sorn holds himself up on an elbow and examines the vial that looks comically small in his much larger fingers. You lay your cheek against one of the pillows and stare up at him, still feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. You’d thought this would have gotten easier after seeing it happen once, but the idea of seeing it happen again is almost worst. Now that you know the sound, know how his lip curls a little, how his eyes flutter—all you want to do is see it more, see him unravel.

“So, just a pinch of this?” Sorn asks. He seems more curious than anything. Like he doesn’t quite totally believe that whatever is in there is actually going to be able to make him sneeze.

“Mhmhm,” you say. 

He grins and sets to work. A hefty pinch between his thumb and forefinger is gathered and then quickly—and in a rather sophisticated manner—snorted up one nostril. It doesn’t seem to cause him any harm like you worried it might, and he merely clears his throat once it’s over and brushes his hands off. 

“Oh, it’s lovely,” he comments, “Almost medicinal.” 

You can’t answer him because you can’t breathe. You’re waiting for something. Anything. A flicker of his expression, a quiver of his nose, something to indicate that the powder is set to work. But nothing happens. Sorn merely looks back at you questioningly. 

“When does it start to take effect?” he asks.

“Usually right away.”

He frowns, “Oh. Perhaps I should take more?”

You saw the amount he took. It was already sizable. Any more and you’d be concerned for him. You quickly shake your head, “No, I wouldn’t. Maybe it’s just…slow to start.”

Sorn huffs, his disappointment mirroring your own. He sets the vial aside and turns back to you, pulling you flush against his body. That’s still nice, sneezing or no. Every hard angle of him presses against you and the heat of his skin makes you shudder. He kisses you deeply and you can still smell the slightly earthy scent of the powder on him as you return it. 

“I’m terribly sorry,” he murmurs close to your mouth, “I’ve done nothing but disappoint you tonight.”

You blink up at him, “That’s not true!” 

He sighs and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ear. “It is, but I promise you, I will make it up to you. We still have plenty of time, and there are other things we can do, besides.”

Sorn dips an arm under you and pulls you flat against the bed, hovering over you. He grins down at you and starts to remove your top. 

“Is this alright?” he asks softly.

You nod, nearly choking on your want for him. Everywhere he uncovers bare skin, he lavishes in kisses until you’re bare from the waist up and the two of you are flesh against flesh. His skin sears yours with warmth. He trails fingers down your sternum and then down to your bellybutton, then lower. 

“You are a delightful little thing,” he says. His voice is velvet, and his warm breath paints down your ribs as he follows the path of his hand. 

You feel the gasp as much as you hear it. It’s a sudden, reckless thing—so quick that neither of you are prepared for it. Sorn’s expression flinches for just a moment and he barely has time to turn his head to the side before a sneeze completely overtakes him—misting your side in the process. “hh-EDSHHH’iuh!” 

You’re stunned. Sorn looks like he might be too, if not for the telltale signs of another impending sneeze close behind the first. He shifts and places a hand on your hip as he sits up a little. You watch as his upper lip curls over bright teeth and his nostrils flare once before he wrenches away from you successfully this time. “hhHH’RRSCCH!” This one is stronger than the last, more voice to it. It shakes him and you by extension on the mattress.

“Bless you,” you say, but he shakes his head. His hand squeezes your hip gently as if to say ‘not yet’. “Hih-ih!”

His fist goes to his mouth before you can stop it, and he squelches the last sneeze into submission. His eyes cinch shut and he bends at the waist, shoulders trembling as the colossal sound is contained to nothing more than a whisper. “hHh-nGXST!” 

He opens his eyes, though somewhat warily. As if he’s not sure the tickle is quite gone yet. He gives a cagey sniffle and blots his knuckle under his nostrils, “Goodness.” Then, he turns to you and finds your gaze positively enraptured. He smiles. 

“I suppose it does work ah-after all!” He rubs at the tip of his nose for a moment and then flutters his eyes, “I do hope you’re ready for more because it seh—seems…” 

Your hand goes to his chest. You feel the swell of his breath deepen, the warm feeling of his skin moving under your fingers. Sorn seems to get the idea because his palm reaches up to cover yours. His fingers wrap around your palm as his breath continues to snag. You catch his eyes just for a moment before they slide back. 

“hHH’RRSCh’euh!” He trembles under your touch with the force of it. He lifts his head just barely, eyebrows canted desperately, and then pitches downwards again, spraying your arm with abandon. “hh’AEEShhh’ah!” 

“Such a tickle,” he says breathily as he recovers. He gives a wet sniffle and smiles at you, but it’s hazy, the look in his eyes already distracted by the mounting itch. But he doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he’s enjoying the newness of the sensation. The break from monotony. 

His nostrils flare and he releases his hand to rub his knuckle against his septum once more. 

You feel a little bold for asking, “Are you all right?”

He nods, smiling. He tries to hold your eyes but the tickle steals his concentration once more. 

“Quite!Just—hh…sn’tsCHh’eeze-hhHH! H’RRSHC’hu!” 

You reach your other hand up to stroke through his hair and turn him a little more towards you as he prepares for another. He resists at first out of instinct alone, but adjusts in the moment it takes for the sneeze to have its way with him. As his breath snaps, he ducks his head in the space between you and releases it into your lap. “hh”hRRRASsh’chu!” 

“Bless you,” you say, smoothing back his hair. You crawl into his lap and he welcomes you without hesitation, securing your thighs around his hips even as his head tilts back for two more with barely a breath in between. He ducks them between the two of you but there isn’t much space. His hands clench against your thighs with each outburst. “hh-eHH’SCCHE’uh! h’RRSH’ue!” 

Blearily, he looks up. He’s dazed. Sniffly. His cheeks are indigo and the area around his nostrils is too. You kiss him, because he just looks so stupidly *kissable* and he murmurs a laugh against your mouth. 

“It is quite comforting thatyou find me attractive in such a state,” he sniffs once you pull away. 

“Very attractive,” you remind him.

He smiles, and continues smiling even as his expression flickers again. “Ah, one-hh more perhaps,” he says.  He raises a hand in front of his face and a rather tired sounding sneeze ripples through him. “hH’EDShh!”

“Bless you.”

“I don’t thhhink I’ve ever snhheezed so much in my life-hh!” He leans his forehead onto your shoulder and does away with using his hand to cover, opting to simply hold onto your hips and let the sensation take him. “hh’UEHDSHH’iu!” You stroke his bare back and feel his ribs expand beneath your fingers before tightening twice in quick succession. “hh’NGXT! nG’ssT!” 

He clears his throat after and lifts his head back up, adjusting you on his lap. “Ah, I should have asked, do you prefer if I hold them in or let them out? Often I don’t know which it will be until it happens but… perhaps I could try…try to—”

His eyes roll and he turns his head, giving you a clear view of his twitching profile. “If I could juhhst get through a sehh’ESsch!—sentence!” 

“I don’t mind either way, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself if you hold them in,” you say to try and spare him. 

“Oh, darling, it takes much more than that to hurt me,” he wriggles his nose handsomely and turns back to you with a devilish grin. His eyebrows raise. “And lo! A full sentence! The effects must be wearing off.” He sniffs experimentally and for the first time, his eyes don’t get hazy in the aftermath. 

You feel disappointment sink your heart like a stone. It was bound to wear off eventually. But before you can even lament the course of events, he pats your thigh and shifts you off his lap. 

“Come, where’s the vial?” 

You blink. Surely he doesn’t want to do more of that?

He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he taps the bottom of your chin and winks.

“Oh, we’re far from finished, love. Ready for round two?”

[beels-burger-babe]

Beautifully Wrong

***I have decided that I like these little short fics for in between my full length fics as they allow me to play with poetics. Sooooooo, I hope you all enjoy. -B***

Summary: You feel that you're ugly. Asmodeus believes that you are beautifully wrong. Ft. Chubby MC

CW: Body Insecurities/Dysmorphia, Intimate body descriptions/SFW body worship, and suggestive/sensual content(as per usual with Asmo)

It's half past midnight, and you came walking into Asmodeus's room. Normally he'd scold you for ruining his beauty sleep, but there was something in the way that you shifted nervously from foot to foot that kept his mouth shut.

"Asmo," his name so typically sweet from your lips now tainted with uncertainty. "How do you ... How do you do it?"

"Do what, love?" He asked as gently as he could.

His caution seemed to have been warranted as your bottom lip trembled as your fists clenched by your sides. "How do you love yourself?" Your breath caught as you weakly gestured to your body. "How ... How do you love me? This. All of this."

Asmodeus froze, his mind screeching to a halt.

To him the answer was simple and yet so deeply complex. How could he not love you?

Forget your stunningly brilliant personality, or the way your kindness changed the spirits of every single person you met.

You asked about your body. Your radiant, glorious body that even now was glowing in the dim candlelight of his room like the ethereal celestial deity that you were to him — regardless of the sweatpants that hid those tantalizing thighs and the stained, oversized shirt that gently caressed the peaks of each of your curves.

He was so distracted by the mere thought of you that words failed him, and in his silence you assumed the worst.

"I know, it's a strange question. And I swear, I promise Asmo, that I'm not fishing for compliments. But you and the boys are all so ... gorgeous! And you all somehow have abs and perfect teeth and perfect jaws to go with your perfect bodies and I just- I'm all rolls and stretch marks and lumps and it's disgusting!" Guilt swelled in his chest as tears glistened in your eyes like fireflies skimming the tops of lakes. "I don't understand why you'd choose me. S-Someone who's ugly a-a-and fat a-and-"

Those toxic words were suffocated under Asmo's pillow-soft kiss as he carefully took your face into his hands.

"None of that, dear." He whispered as his amber eyes searched deeply into your own for some semblance of an explanation for what could've brought this on. "Do not speak about yourself like that."

"But-"

He hushed you immediately with another paralyzing kiss as he gently set you on the edge of his bed. Your words were pulled from your tongue and stolen by his as he leaned away and left you breathless.

He tangled your fingers together and inspected each your hands as he tilted his head. "When I first laid eyes on you, I was instantly intrigued. You were frightened and new and so horribly confused, but you were also devastatingly beautiful."

You cocked an eyebrow as a frown dug at the corners of your lips. "You're just saying that. I'm fat-"

"You say that like that has to be a bad thing." He quickly counters with a peck to your knuckles. . "Yes, you have fat on your body." His expression softens as you wince at his words. "And I am so sorry your society has taught you that's a bad thing. Fat and Beautiful are not antonyms."

"I don't understand" you said, and how it hurt to see that you genuinely meant that.

"Allow me to put it this way," his fingers began to trace up your arm. "Humans have never once been able to agree on what they find, truly beautiful. Even today, in some cultures a full-bodied person is a symbol of a healthy, fortuitous person and is thus found deeply attractive. All throughout history, the image of the perfect body has changed more times than you can count on your lovely hands. So saying one body type is more attractive than the other is frankly ridiculous."

He pressed firm kisses up the length of your arm — as though murmuring his words against your skin could seal them there forever. "Putting all your worth into what a single indecisive society run by humans of all species thinks is a terrible waste of time and horrible for your skin," he couldn't help but smirk as a small laugh escaped your lips. The laughter quickly ceased as he took your chin into his grasp. "But it's clear that poisonous teaching has already gotten to you and that you truly believe what they have taught you. The issue isn't just their words anymore," he leaned forward and pecked the top of your head. "It's what's in here. Though it will take time to completely undo all you've been taught, let tonight be the first step towards proving that you are beautifully wrong about yourself."

And he did exactly that. He spent the next few hours spilling words of poetry about the body that he oh-so-loved to worship.

He painted the rolls and curves of your body as the very hills that compose of the natural wonder that you are. The acne you had, and the scars that remained, were your stars and he would spend the evening turning them into constellations if you would give him the chance.

You said that you're ugly, and the ravine-like marks that snake down ever-so-soft curves were terrible and he genuinely didn't understand how you could say such things about something that looks so fucking delicious. Each line was a teasing path that his tongue begged to trace, and if that was something you would never allow he would simply help you find love for the lightning bolts on your thighs, that you so disdainfully called thunder, through his words.

His thumb stroked the delicate curve of your jaw and neck as he thanked it for being the perfect accent to your gorgeous face and rounded cheeks.

With every word he planted a carefully placed kiss in hopes that a garden of love would grow just as strongly and beautifully as you.

And most importantly, he thanked each and every part of you for composing the timeless masterpiece that was his partner, and he prayed to whoever was listening that he could spend the rest of his days studying your artistry and committing every detail of you to memory.

***This is the closest thing to smut I have ever written, why does Asmo always bring this out? I so sincerely hope you guys enjoyed it and are liking these little snippet fics. Thanks for the love and support! -B***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21

[thelustdevil]

Daddy Issues | H.S.

Pairing: Hitoshi x Reader

Warnings: Explicit content, shower sex, semi-public sex, fingering, implied/referenced abuse, I made Denks the asshole sorry!!, angst, depression, general sad/upset vibes, situational sex, coping sex.

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: After a bad ending between you and Denki, old wounds reopen. When it happens Hitoshi is there to help, in any way he can.

Notes: Something smaller i wrote while listening to the remix of Daddy Issues. Def not healthy relationship dynamics tbf. Please mind the tags and read with caution. I don’t fully dive into the abuse and stuff but it’s still present. Let me know if I missed anything.

•••

I should get out.

“You should get out” A quiet deep voice spoke over the sound of the shower. He managed to speak softly somehow. Or maybe that’s how you’ve come to hear his voice. Soft, deep, warm, and loving.

Even now.

“What are you doing in here?” You grumble, unmoving from your seated position on the shower floor. The ice cold water was hell on your back, but at least you felt something. “This is the girl’s side, you know that.”

“I had a feeling... You’ve been off all week.” He pauses, you hear shuffling before he continues. “When I checked your room and you weren’t there, I figured you’d be here.”

You hum in response. There’s nothing to say. Hitoshi lets the silence continue so long you begin to think he’s left.

“You’ve been distant.” The hint of confusion in his voice pisses you off for some reason.

“Yeah a breakup will do that to you, Shinsou.” You’re being mean and you know it, but hey it’s in theme with the 2am freezing shower.

He sighs, “Come on, F/N, I’m worried.”

You don’t respond. You can’t. What could you even say? The ability to form complex sentences left when the numbness set in. You settle on turning your body and leaning against the wall, your back turned towards him, uncaring of what he sees. Being naked around each other was nothing new.

It’s quiet for even longer this time. Until a shocked gasp leaves your mouth, as you feel Hitoshi wrap his arms around you. His shirt sticks to you and the feeling of wet cloth lays across your back. He buries his head into your bare shoulder, saying nothing.

“Am I no better than Her?” The words leave your mouth without a second thought. “Am I just as stupid.” You fill the last word with as much venom as you can muster. Dragging up all the nasty feelings from the past few weeks and even the ones presentbefore Denki dropped you.

“You know that’s not fair to do to yourself. Don’t even think for a second you’re in the same vein as your mother.” He breathes deeply, tightening his arms slightly. “She stayed, you left. You saved yourself from the same mistakes.”

“When did you get good at this? You used to just stare at me whenever I cried.” You chuckle dryly. Leaning your head against his, you take a deep breath. “Thank you… I’m sorry. For everything.”

It’s his turn to chuckle as he lifts his head, angling to meet your eyes. You want to look away but he places his hand on your cheek. “You’re welcome, and I accept your apology. I know things were hard and confusing but I’m glad you made it out of there.”

Your heart aches and it takes everything in you not to collapse right there. Hitoshi was being so kind and you were so sure you didn’t deserve it. He always had room in his life for you ever since you were young kids. As your childhood best friend he had seen almost everything in your life. The good, bad, and the ugly. Like your family. Your parents. If you could call them that, then again you were feeling hauntingly similar to your mo-

“Stop that.” As if he could read your mind he brought you back to the present, forcing you to look at him again. This time moving both of your bodies so your legs were across him, his arm supporting you while the other held it’s position on your cheek. “Focus on me.”

How could you not? His movement had made you aware of the close proximity, you could see the drops of water make their way down his hair before rolling down his face slowly. You reached up and brushed a finger against one of the drops, your eyes never leaving his purple deep ones. He exhales softly, pulling your attention to his mouth, his lips.They were barely parted and all you could think of doing was slotting your own against them. You glace back to his eyes, asking him silently.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hitoshi asks quietly, “I don’t want to do this if you aren’t fully here, Y/N.”

You smile softly as you look at him. “Yes. Please, Hitoshi.” A pause. “As long as you’re okay with it too… And what it could lead to.” You want to be honest, as honest as possible.

“You know I would do anything for you. I want to do this… I promise.” His gaze is steady, he gives you a reassuring smile.

That’s all you need before your lips are on his, your hands in his hair. One of his hands trails up and down your back while the other traces lines from your hip down the outside of your thigh. He holds you and touches you as if committing everything to memory. You do the same.

As you alternate between pulling and running your hands through his hair, he grips your thigh tightly, pulling slightly before letting go. A small noise rips itself from your throat as your tilt your head back. His mouth immediately dips to kiss at the base of your neck and slowly travel upwards. Farther up he trails kisses, following your jawline to your ear. He gently bites the lobe and you lean into it. The feeling of his lips sending shivers down your back.

You pull his face back to yours and kiss him as deeply as you can. He gladly welcomes you in, and explores your own mouth with his tongue. Vying for a little payback, you pull back and bite his lip, hard.

A groan leaves him as his hips buck up slightly. You smile and giggle softly. “I knew you’d be into that shit.” He rolls his eyes and leans back in, capturing you in a slow languid kiss. It sweeps you up and you get lost in it. You can feel Hitoshi trace his hand up and across your thigh, moving between them to cup the heat in the middle. You moan into his mouth as he drags his middle finger through your slit, pausing to rub a few small circles on your clit.

Your head lolls backwards onto his bicep and he takes the opportunity to lean you farther back, letting his mouth gain access to your chest. He circles a nipple with his tongue, ocassionally pulling it into his mouth. All that stumbles from your mouth are hushed whispers of his name as his hands and mouth continue to mold and play with your body.

He slowly slips a finger inside of you, pumping lazily, pulling back from your chest to watch what he does to you. His eyes are trained on your face, watching the way your mouth drops open as his pace increases. Hitoshi slips another finger in, your eyes open and lock with his. You look so needy, so open. He pushes his mouth onto yours to keep from groaning too loudly.

His thumb finds it way to your clit and you can feel the coil tighten inside. You grip his hair tightly as you make out with him, grinding down into his hand, chasing the sweet release. At once you’re reminding of his erection when it pushes against your spread leg. You move to palm it but he stops you.

“This is for you, we’ll have time for that later.” In an instant he’s back at your mouth and you’re that much closer to being a complete mess.

Hitoshi continues his minstrations, letting his mouth wander along your upper body as his hand works your core. He has three fingers inside of you and it’s taking all of you not to hop onto his cock this very second. Your fantasies of riding him quickly help in tipping you over the edge. Hitoshi continues faster and pulls you closer to him as you orgasm.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, he doesnt even need to control you. You’re already mesmerized. All you can do is stare into his gaze as your mouth drops open and your body revels in the sweet feeling washing over you. He let’s you continue to ride it out until you’re spent.

Once your breathing has evened out, he gently helps you stand up and turns the water to a warmer setting. He steps out of his soaked clothing and tosses it somewhere out of the shower.

You have to look down- goddamn. He’s got a gamer dick. You can’t help but stare. He chuckles, finally noticing your facial expression.

“Trust me, shower sex isn’t it. We need to clean you up and get you into bed. You’re practically swaying on your feet.” As soon as he says it, the exhaustion hits you. You nod your head and allow yourself to guided under the warm water. Hitoshi makes quick, but gentle, work of cleaning you up. Once your done, you both step out of the shower.

Grabbing a towel from the spares the girls have stored in here you hand one to Hitoshi before grabbing one for yourself. You pause as you wrap yourself up, “What now?”

He glances at you with a raised brow, “What? We go to bed.”

“You’re staying?” You sound shocked.

“Unless you don’t want me to, then yes.” He crosses his arms. “I’m not just gonna do that then dip, F/N.”

You nod slowly, “Right, right. We should talk about that at some point though…” The anxiety and weight of what you just did hits you. Did you fuck up?

“We will. Tomorrow, you need to sleep and I want to make sure you’re okay.” He places a guiding hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about all of this right now okay? No matter what I’ll be here. Now let[‘s go.”

Once you make your way to your dorm room and get dressed. You toss his wet clothes and your dirty ones in the hamper and crawl into bed. Hitoshi is right behind you, slinging one arm over your waist and tugging you close.

Before sleep takes you, you thank him one last time. His reply is a soft kiss, brushing against your shoulder blade.

•••

That’s the end of another short story! Let me know what you thought. Send an ask if you’d like to be on the tag list!

Tave🤍

[fallevs]

Thank you so much @bitbybitwrites for the tag 💜

I am currently in a kind of limbo!? I would like to write and share with the fandom what I create, but I feel very ignored and neglected, and in general this is not a good time of the year for me and I have no one to vent to except my therapist who I see once a month. So please excuse me if you see any of my posts where I'm feeling sorry for myself. It's just that I spend precious time creating content that, while ugly and stupid, I wish had just a little bit of relevance. Anyway, I sincerely thank those few people who continue to support my work for the SanVan event. Thank you very very very much.

Let's get down to business (to defeat the huns)

I am tossing around the idea for my escort au and I must say I don't dislike it. Unfortunately, I am in my surely-everyone-hates-you phase so I already think than no one will read it, but I hope to get out of this soon. I know I will. I often think I am too fragile but somehow I always manage to get out of it.

I don't have anything to share yet but– maybe a summary? I don't know if it counts. Let's see. Oh, and I don't even have a title.

Kurt's world of wealth, glitz and glitter falls apart the day his husband dies and he learns that he has been living in fiction until now. Alone, inexperienced and with a son to raise while struggling against social workers who threaten to take him away from him, Kurt will have to find a way to make quick and, more importantly, easy money. Getting to know people totally different from him and a special friend will make him realize how little he had lived until then and how boring, gray, and meaningless his life was.

Right now I have only created an outline with the main and secondary characters, but I hope to get to work soon.

Anyone who reads this and wants to participate, please do so even without being tagged.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Tolerate It | S.R

Not my gif

To the Anon that sent me the ask for a song blurb with Taylor Swift’s Tolerate It, I am so sorry I accidentally deleted it 😫 but here it is!

This is for my milestone celebration which I am still taking requests for!

Summary - your relationship with Spencer seems to be on a downward spiral after seeing him kiss Cat Adam’s. Does he still love you or just simply tolerate you?

Content Warnings - angst, mentions of prison and Cat Adam’s and Spencer’s complicated feeling towards her, lethal injection. Angst with a hopeful ending.

Word Count - 1.9k

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

I sit and watch you reading with your head low,

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed.

I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do,

You're so much older and wiser and I.

It was a simple thing for you to say that Spencer Reid was the love of your life. 

You’d fallen for him hook line and sinker the first time you’d laid eyes on him across an exhibit at the Smithsonian several years ago. 

You were taking an art class in your free time and had gone to the museum for inspiration. You’d hoped to find it sitting in the middle of the Butterfly Pavilion surrounded by the beautiful creatures and tropical atmosphere. 

Instead you’d found it in the deep hazel eyes and messy haired man walking among them. 

You’d been bold to go and talk to him, not usually the type to make the first move. 

He’d told you his name was Spencer and he liked to spend his free time from his job at the FBI wandering the halls of museums. 

You spent several hours speaking with him, soaking in all his facts about butterflies and the rain forest. 

You’d let him take you to dinner afterwards and the rest was history. 

Things had been perfect between the two of you, both of you falling head over heels for the other easily. It seemed as though you’d met your perfect match, the man you’d spend the rest of your life with. 

You complimented each other, made up for the others shortcomings. He was the ying to your yang. The salt to your pepper. The sun to your moon. 

You’d been together four years when he was arrested in Mexico. You’d thought it was the hardest thing your relationship would have to withstand. 

The three months he spent inside was the longest the two of you had ever spent apart. You didn’t expect him to come out unchanged, unscathed; you knew he would be different. 

He pushed away. It started as little things here and there but soon started growing. He wasn’t the same man he used to be, he wasn’t the man who had spent an entire afternoon spouting butterfly facts just to see you smile. 

His behaviour forced your hand. You told him if something didn’t change you were leaving, you couldn’t keep living like this. 

And to his credit, Spencer had tried for you. 

He was never going to be the same but he was trying and that was all you could ask for. You learnt to love this new incarnation of him and the two of you fell back into a groove. 

Not the same groove, but a new kind you eventually grew to love just the same as you had your old one. 

And then Cat Adam’s reared her ugly head again. 

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,

Use my best colors for your portrait.

Lay the table with the fancy shit,

And watch you tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

The day you’d found Spencer swapping saliva with the hitwoman outside of the door of your apartment, you’d known things would never be the same again. 

As much as he tried to tell you he was playing along with her game, you knew him better than that. You’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d realised you were behind the door. You saw the passion he’d put into that kiss. 

So as simple as it was for you to say that Spencer Reid was the love of your life, you knew from that day that you weren’t his. 

Cat Adam’s was. 

You tried to ignore it, tried to stuff it down in a little box and throw yourself into your relationship with vigour. 

But it became clear no matter how much you tried to be the perfect partner and give Spencer the faultless kind of love he needed; you were never enough for him.

Not anymore. 

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome,

I take your indiscretions all in good fun.

I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten,

You're so much older and wiser and I.

Every time he was due home from a case you greeted him at the door with a wide smile and open arms. 

You made sure the apartment was clean and always had his favourite meals prepared and waiting on the table for him. 

You’d tell him all about the things you’d been up to while he was away, barely getting anything in return. 

Sometimes you’d have sex, but it was far from the love making you used to share. 

When you told him you loved him it was always with enthusiasm in your voice, ensuring he knew you meant it. 

But it had been a long time since he’d said it in return. 

Over the years you’d made Spencer the focal point of your life, your top priority, while it seemed as though you’d become but a footnote in his. 

Every conversation was strained, like trying to suck blood from a stone. He didn’t spill facts at you the way he used to, he barely talked to you at all. 

And when he did he didn’t have the same kindness to his voice that he used to. 

You studied him on countless occasions and noticed the spark had long burnt out from behind his eyes. His shoulders were always slumped, he walked like he had something weighing him down. 

Even when he slept he didn’t look peaceful. 

Sometimes he mumbled her name in his unconsciousness and it was like a knife to the heart every single time. 

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,

Use my best colors for your portrait.

Lay the table with the fancy shit,

And watch you tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

You felt like you’d become a hindrance to the man you loved. Your childish optimism and affection towards him was always shut down, as he retreated further into himself with each passing day. 

And maybe if you didn’t love him so much, you would have walked away. He tolerated you being in his life but he certainly didn’t love you anymore. How could? He couldn’t act like this towards you if he did. 

You deserved better. You deserve someone to love you the way you loved them. You shouldn’t have to stand for being second best, least of all to a psychopathic serial killer who’d gotten under his skin and somehow, into his heart. 

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky,

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life.

Drawing hearts in the byline,

Always taking up too much space or time.

You assume I'm fine,

But what would you do if I…

The day he came home looking more dishelved than usual, and past you straight by, heading upstairs, was the day you’d had enough. 

You followed him upstairs to the bedroom where he was getting out of his tie and jacket but he didn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Hello to you too.” You folded your arms across your chest, at wits end. 

“Hi.” He croaked, dumping the jacket and tie on the floor. 

“Can you even look at me?” You felt tears in your eyes, tears that had been building for months. “I know I’m not her but could you just look at me? See me?” 

He sighed loudly, running his fingers through his tangled hair before looking at you. 

“I assume the her you’re referring to is Cat?” 

“Who else?” You clenched your jaw, hoping to stem your tears. “I can’t believe I’m competing for your love with a serial killer!”

He sighed again, slumping back to the bed. 

“She’s dead.” He shrugged. “I went to her execution today. I watched them stick the needle in her arm and end her life.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Good riddance! I’m glad she’s dead.” 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He confessed, seemingly not hearing your words. “I don’t know how I let her under my skin this way. She put me in prison. She kidnapped my mom. But yet she had this sick hold over me and I don’t know what that means for me.” 

When he looked back up at you he had tears rolling down his cheeks. 

You softened in an instant and let your arms fall to your sides. 

You came closer to him and cautiously sat down next to him. 

“Did you love her?” Your own tears broke free now. 

“What? No, no of course not. I…I…I don’t think so.” He shook his head with another sigh. “The truth is I don’t know, ok? I had some kind of feelings for her, that much I do know. But what does that make me? How can I have feelings for someone like her?” 

His eyes were searching you for answers you didn’t have. And instead of giving him a half hearted response, you surprised him when you took hold of his hand. 

“You see the best in everyone, Spencer.” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “Even in people who are evil through and through. You humanise them. You try to find the good in them. You’re a protector, you wanted to help her even though she didn’t deserve your help. You’ve got a huge heart Spencer but sometimes that’s not always a good thing.” 

“I’ve not been fair to you.” He reached for you with his free hand and brushed your tears with his fingertips. “I’ve not treated you right because I was so caught up in her. Can you ever forgive me?” 

His eyes were begging, pleading with you desperately. 

You leaned into his touch and sighed shakily. 

“Answer me this Spencer, do you still love me? Or do you simply tolerate me?” 

You heard a pained whimper leave his lips as a sob wracked through him. 

His bottom lip quivered and he let his hand drop to his side. 

“Of course I love you, angel. I promise from now on I’ll show you how much, every single day. I could never simply tolerate you, my love. I’ve been a fool, but you are my whole world, ok?” 

With that you fell into his arms as you both sobbed. 

You weren’t sure what the future would hold for you and Spencer but for the first time in months you had a small glimmer of hope. 

A glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t just tolerate your love, he would celebrate it. 

Break free and leave us in ruins,

Took this dagger in me and removed it.

Gain the weight of you then lose it,

Believe me, I could do it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

I sit and watch you.

[olderthannetfic]

"Have there been purges on the Russian language sites yet?" We have one big archive which is for profit so they are shady at best. For example they had a "no mature content with characters under 16" and only R for chara" (which is yuacky as itself) and then they have (payed) moderators who can delete your fic because "yes you said that he's sixteen there but also you wrote that he looks younger that he is so it's still counting". They also deleted fics that had mentions of russian attac on Ukraine. Not in fics (site has a policy about "not writing fics about major tragedies until it's six months over" which I found restrictive but understanable) but like in notes as "pls donate to Ukraine" or "pls protest". And when goverment made last censor lgbt+ ban which now forbids not only "propaganda to children" but "all propaganda that can make same sex relatioships as equal to hetero", they lost their shit and made another site named slashbook that won't show up in russian search engines and won't assosiated with first archive in any way and then was like "we will drop ALL works containing slash and femslash there" but they had such a backlash after that that they kind of stopped this? But maybe will do it if giverment will send them angly later. Btw owners of site is not in Russia and servers are not in Russia too. They just scared about losing money from ads. Suckers. We also had two? I think? Smallish and still beta-ed (or more like alfa-ed) fannish archives but a) they ugly b) they both had the same "no sex with minors" and not clear in many ways rules so I'm not happy with them either. So it's mostly ao3 for now, but smallish fandoms have little to no fanbase there + it's just sad to lose place that was your TO-GO place for so long. I mean it's not the biggest problem in the world with war and distopian laws etc, but after long day of shit work and then volunteering and then reading upsetting news person should have a right to go to fanfic archive and just mindlessly scroll in search of perfect omegaverse and not think that some fuckers could sunk this ship if it's stop being profitable. Also there's some useful things in this archive that ao3 doesen't have and I will mourn them. Sorry for the long rant! Just thought that in can be interesting as I find other people talking about how fandom works in their countries facinating

--

Very interesting!

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 27

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2074

Warnings: Talk of death, angst

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Also sorry for the delay in posting this (again). I just got settled into my new place, so trying to get back into the swing of updated. Also happy belated birthday to Juliette and Ghost, who both share my bday :)

Chapter Songs: Stay Blindedsided

****

Ghost and Hangman left Texas the day after the funeral. It turned out to be a rough day for both of them because, after the ceremony, Jake had left the Blackwoods to grieve at their patriarch's headstone in private- despite knowing they would've been perfectly fine with his presence- and strolled through the cemetery until he came to a stop in front of a familiar marble stone inlaid into the soft grass. His body had reacted on its own accord as it slowly collapsed to the ground onto his knees. Hangman's eyes had stared at the engraving on the stone: Natalie Seresin.

He had talked to her, apologized for getting her killed, for cutting her beautiful life short. He told her of the fiasco he'd made of his life: how he'd pushed everyone he ever loved away, how he'd fucked things up with Ghost, how terrified he was to screw it up again, if the fallout would destroy him like it tried to last time. It'd come so close to succeeding before…

Hangman had told her of Michael Seresin's health issues and how Nick was on the lam; how he and Matt were rekindling their brotherhood and trying to be a family for once in their lives; how adorable her granddaughter Sophie was and what an asshole Jake had been to hold off meeting her for so long because of his anger at his father and brothers.

Ghost had found Hangman. She had silently knelt beside him, taken his hand in hers, and waited for him to speak the first word. He didn't remember what he said, but they ended up in his truck mindlessly driving on back roads for hours, sometimes chatting, sometimes not, but those silences never felt awkward, and only when they returned to North Island did Hangman's fear of losing her rear its ugly head again, telling him he didn't deserve her, let alone a second chance.

It was those thoughts that consumed him while he and Ghost sat on his couch with alcohol in hand. She had dreaded spending the night alone tonight, and Hangman was more than happy to oblige her request to stay with him for a bit. They were in the middle of watching the 2005 Pride and Prejudice, which she and Juliette adored. It'd even surpassed Ghost's love of The Notebook, and honestly, Hangman could kind of see why. It certainly had a happier ending!

"Okay, Mr. Darcy-" he began, pointing at the TV with his whiskey glass and nearly sloshing the liquid out- "or Noah Calhoun?"

Ghost groaned in despair. "Why would you do this to me?"

"Because I love you." The truth slipped out so casually, but Ghost would never suspect he meant it as anything more than platonic. She had never figured it out after all these years, and Hangman was content with the situation because it let him get his feelings off his chest without any risk of getting his heart well and truly broken by her inevitable rejection.

"That kind of question makes me think you hate me. If I had to choose…" Ghost bit her lip and then took a sip of her Bailey's and whiskey. "Darcy. I'm such a sucker for the brooding type."

"Is that why you fell for Rooster?" Hangman teased, bumping her knee playfully with his.

She glowered at him, but the hint of a smile tugging on her lips took the venom out of it. "We were both in shit emotional states, and he looked a lot better brooding than I did."

Hangman's face fell into one of disagreement. "I hold an informed opinion when I say you look better brooding. This may have to do with me having to watch Bradshaw pine for Juliette from the moment he saw her when we arrived for the training. Don't get me wrong; I get it with their history, but still, annoying to deal with on a daily basis. Especially because those lovesick puppy eyes were involved."

Ghost raised an eyebrow at him. "You staring at Rooster's face a lot?"

"I had to gauge my competition, both for the training detachment and romantically. Bradshaw wears his heart on his sleeve, and you can see whatever he's feeling. From the first night we arrived, he had his eyes set on her. I had history to contend with, and I figured out pretty quickly winning her heart was a lost clause."

"You really liked Juliette, didn't you?" The question came out more of a statement, and Hangman winced at the sound of it. "I knew you had a flirtationship, but I never realized you had genuine feelings for her."

Hangman shrugged to give an air of indifference. "It is what it is. My family isn't exactly lucky in love, except for Matt."

"I've seen the way girls look at you. You could have any girl you want. What gives?"

None of them are you. "Haven't found one I clicked with in a long time," he replied, eyes trained on the amber liquid in his glass before knocking the rest back. "You want more to drink?"

Ghost nodded and followed him to the bar, where he poured their glasses fuller than he should've. He probably didn't need more, considering the strong buzz he currently felt, so Ghost had to be buzzing as well, although if she was, she didn't show it outside of talking more animatedly. She'd always been able to hide her drunkenness well. Sometimes too well.

"Who was the girl you clicked with?" Ghost prodded. "Was it back at the Academy?"

"Yeah, but she didn't feel the same. We shared one drunken kiss, and that was it. I was actually doing it to save her from some creep." Jake bit his tongue, realizing he might've said too much. Ghost would figure out he spoke of her if he said anymore. He had to move past it. "It is what it is. Besides, I'm happily married to my job."

Ghost leaned against the bar on her forearms. "Did I know her?"

"Yeah, you knew her." Hangman hoped his short response would end that topic of conversation.

Ghost had other ideas. "Who was she?"

"I don't see the point in saying it since it's in the past, and telling you now won't change anything about it."

"Well-" Ghost began matter-of-factly- "she missed out, but I think you got it wrong about her not returning the feelings. All the girls at the Academy had a crush on you at some point. Hell, I'm pretty sure a few of the instructors did."

Hangman searched her eyes, and a certain amount of anxiety crept into his heart. She knows. She knows I'm talking about her. But why isn't she saying that aloud? Is Ghost trying to save me from the embarrassment? Or maybe... is she trying to save herself from it? 

Hangman decided to play the game. "All the girls," he echoed, straightening and stepping closer to her. "Does that include yourself?"

Ghost stood but still leaned against the counter. He saw her breathing hitch a little, giving him his answer. "Like I said. All girls had a crush on you at some point."

He took another step toward her, so close now that one deep breath from either of them would cause their chests to touch. "And now?"

Do not start anything! This is a bad idea. Abort mission. Abort! Abort! Abort! The warning bells clanged loudly in his head, but seeing Ghost's eyes drop to his mouth wiped those thoughts from his head in one fell swoop. 

"Jake-"

His name rolling off her tongue broke him. Hangman leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, soft, restrained, and questioning, giving her the opportunity to pull away in case he'd horribly misread the signs. In case he'd overstepped any boundaries.

Ghost hands found their way to his face, gentle but firm. Hangman's willpower caved at the green light she'd granted him, his arms wrapping around her torso to pull her close to him, her soft curves flush against his solid abdomen. He couldn't get enough. Couldn't get enough of the taste of his whiskey on her lips, the smell of her Jo Malone perfume enveloping him, the softness of her hair as one of his hands tangled up in it. 

"Stop." Ghost's quiet voice dragged Hangman out of his euphoria. He leaned back to look at her, wondering what happened, what he had done wrong.

"What is it?" he asked, carefully brushing a stray piece of hair from her face.

Ghost disentangled herself from his arms, leaving him feeling cold and empty. She backed away while shaking her head. "I can't- I can't do this."

"I'm sorry. I- what did I do? Did I misread-" Hangman started reaching out for her but immediately stopped when she stepped back.

"It's not y- I can't do this. We just..."

"What is it?" Hangman inquired, dreading where this was going.

The pained expression on her face only deepened. She opened her mouth but closed it just as fast, searching for the words she wanted. "Why? Why did you leave me?"

He blinked, processing her question, fearing the route he knew they were heading. "What are you talking about?"

"After the accident, when I was clinging to life in sick bay, when I had just lost my best friend, where were you?" Ghost demanded, taking a challenging step toward him, fury temporarily wiping away her sadness. "I died and came back, I waited for you, I asked Coyote where you were, begged God for you to come see me, and you were nowhere to be found. For fuck's sake, even Cyclone and Warlock visited me despite the shit they were dealing with in the aftermath of the accident to see how I was holding up. Phoenix, who I barely knew at the time, came to check on me. Coyote was at my bedside every day and tried to cheer me up even though he was reeling from the loss of his girlfriend, and you-" Ghost's breath hitched- "you were nowhere to be seen. Why?"

Hangman gulped, desperately trying to gain control of his mind and block out the horrific memories and thoughts that plagued him from that time. In a strained voice, he replied, "I thought you didn't want to see me. I thought- I thought you blamed me for the accident."

"Blamed you? Jake, I know Javy told you I wanted to see you. I even asked fucking Cyclone and Warlock to send you, but nothing! Why would I ask for you if I hated you? Why would I defend you in the trial for the accident if I blamed you for it? And I know you avoided me before the trial, how you always managed to disappear before I could reach you from across the room. So, I'm not buying it. There's something else that stopped you. What was it?"

"I- I can't-" Hangman found himself at a loss for words; the images of what he'd seen, of what it reminded him of, rendered him speechless, incapable of defending himself against the barrage of valid fury and hurt Ghost hurled at him. God, he wanted to tell her, to tell her everything, but he couldn't. Hangman couldn't bring himself even to the edge of that long, dark hole of endless despair he'd spiraled into after Ghoul's death. If Hangman did, he was terrified he wouldn't be able to pull himself out again.

"I have never needed anyone in my life," Ghost said, her voice cracking. Tears brimmed her eyes, threatening to cascade down her flushed cheeks. Barely able to get the words out, she whispered hoarsely, "But I needed you then, Jake. When I needed you most, you left me alone. Why?"

I loved you. That's why I couldn't be there. The words lodged in his throat, paralyzing fear taking control of his body.

Ghost scoffed in disgust. "Even after all this time, you still can't tell me. I should've known. Goodbye, Jake."

She turned on her heel, grabbed her purse, and exited his apartment, leaving Hangman rooted to the spot and realizing that goodbye had been final. She'd given him a second chance, and he'd blown it. She handed him the perfect opportunity to explain himself, and like the coward he was, he clammed up. 

The black hole of despair he'd escaped for years finally won as he tumbled back into it.

****

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