#this piece has some beautiful tinting

[daguerreotyping]

Daguerreotype portrait of Commander Edward Hay, R. N., photographed by Ross & Thomson in Edinburgh, Scotland c. 1847-60.

A daguerreotype is capable of capturing greater depth and finer detail than any other photographic process of its time—perhaps even of our time—but it comes with the catch that, as the surface is silver-coated copper polished to a mirror finish, you must tilt it to just the right angle to see the image and not the mirror. You’ve got to catch the light, avoid the glare, dodge your own reflection while also trying to get as direct a view as possible—it’s a bit exasperating, a bit enchanting. And to photograph a daguerreotype straight on without catching your own reflection, you’ll need to use a black board with a hole for your camera lens.

This quality of the daguerreotype was not the origin of the idea that vampires can’t be photographed or reflected in mirrors, as that lore dates to Bram Stoker’s Dracula in 1897, well after daguerreotypes had been replaced by less fiddly processes—and Stoker’s notes even specify that one “could not codak” or even paint a portrait of Dracula. Still, this is what daguerreotypes make me think of—I like to imagine that a vampire would appear in a daguerreotype not as a blank space but rather the silvery hint of a figure that somehow never quite coalesces into the clear image that you know is there no matter how you turn the plate.

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

[reddpenn]

I’m back from my rock show! I got some Cool Rocks!

First, the agates.

Another Turkish stick agate to join my collection! I can't get enough of this stuff. These form as pseudomorphs of selenite. A bunch of criss-crossing selenite crystals grow inside an empty pocket in the rock, and then the space around them fills in with agate. Eventually, the selenite crystals dissolve, and the hollows they leave behind are also filled with agate, preserving a record of their shapes!

Bonus! This pair has a nice green fluorescence.

Here is another Turkish agate. (Almost all of today's agates are from Turkey; Turkey produces some beautiful agate specimens.) This one has a really interesting pattern to its banding.

I actually picked this one out for its fluorescence, which is a stunning bright green.

Also from Turkey! Growing inside a super cool crust of volcanic rhyolite, this agate is called sagenite. Sagenite agate has a fibrous appearance because it is a pseudomorph of a fibrous zeolite mineral.

The last two from Turkey: a pretty red specimen with a sparkly central vug, and a weirdo with squiggles of yellow. What’s going on with that guy?

This one is from China! The red and orange agates from this locale are called "Fighting Blood" agate. I already have a Fighting Blood in my collection, but I thought this one was neat because its vug is full of amethyst!

Here are some things which are not agate!

This one is a lead mineral called plumbogummite! Specifically, these crystals are a pseudomorph of another lead mineral called pyromorphite. Over time, the lime green pyromorphite crystals were slowly replaced by the tealy plumbogummite. In a few of the broken crystals, you can still see a green pyromorphite core!

Hyalite opal! This rock has been on my bucket list, I am so excited. This form of opal is known for its water-clear, jelly-like globule formations. Though typically a colorless mineral, this specimen is tinted yellow due to iron staining. It’s also a mineral famous for its bright fluorescence… but this specimen’s glow is utterly unimpressive. :c I will be on the lookout for a more glowy specimen at future shows. Honestly, I’m just happy to finally own some at all!

This year, I also got some high-end mineral specimens! Take a look at these beauties.

Roselite! This rare, toxic mineral is full of arsenic. If I ate it I would probably die! Roselite’s deep red color comes from the cobalt in its chemical structure, and makes it highly sought after by collectors. This specimen is showing off a well defined lenticular crystal habit! Again, I cannot overstress how rare this stuff is. I spent… an inadvisable amount of money on it.

Oh, the best and most sparkly boy. This is wulfenite! I have wanted a piece in my collection for so long, and I’ve been waiting for just the right specimen to come along. It's a lead mineral, and it forms the coolest square, tabular crystals! This mineral is extremely brittle, which makes large, intact crystals of it very hard to find. But check out the huge tabular crystal on the right side of this specimen, it’s bigger than my thumbnail!!

And finally, I could not resist buying something silly.

This is Tully. He's a plush Tully Monster, which is my state fossil!

[mncxbe]

Hello if possible maybe Akutagawa, Chuuya and Dazai when reader drags them out to a lingerie store with them and gives them free reign of what they can pick out for reader

oh my I absolutely love this prompt. I hope you like it♡♡

Victoria's secret

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ a little bit of dirty talk♡

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂

let's start off with our favourite mafioso

you're on a date in town and suddenly spot a newly opened Victoria's Secret store and you just have to take advantage of the situation

as soon as you enter the shop Akutagawa blushes so much and although he tries to hide it you notice

please don't tease him about it too much he'll straight up leave

he's a big fan of black or white laced lingerie and slip dresses, anything elegant and cute; but also has a thing for body harnesses and leather accessories (the port mafia influences)

he ends up buying you a few items that he carefully picked and you both like

One day you're walking around town after Akutagawa finished work. It was late afternoon and the city was bathed in a shimmer of gold and orange hues. Just as you were about to leave the crowded boulevard you were on, a glowing sign caught your eye; it was a newly open Victoria's secrets store.

Without a warning you seized your boyfriend's wrist and dragged him towards the shop.

"We have to go in there Ryu. Come on" you said in a chipper voice.

At first Akutagawa was confused by your sudden actions and words, but then his gaze fell upon the magenta glass that made up the exterior walls of the shop and the 'newly opened' banner that hanged below the store's name; his body grew stiff.

"There's no way I'm going in there" he said in an annoyed voice, causing you to turn and face him.

"Aww come on Ryu they just opened and-"

"No. I'm not stepping foot in that place for nothing. Please, let's keep walking"

"But we'll only stay for a minute" you pressed as you clinged to his arm, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. "I'll let you choose something nice for me, ok? Whatever you want and I promise I'll wear it next time we-"

"Ok ok I got it" he interrupted, trying to conceal the blush that began to tint his face with the back of his hand. "Let's go then."

With that, Akutagawa walked towards the store with you following close behind. A sense of uneasiness creeped into your boyfriend's body as he entered the store; the place was packed with drawers upon drawers of lingerie, faceless mannequins wearing matching colourful sets and flimsy nightgowns and clothing racks bearing dresses.

You spared Akutagawa a quick glance. His face was contorted in a doubtful expression, nose scrunched in disgust.

"I really can't understand how anyone could enjoy... this?" he said, motioning towards the display. "Anyway, let's see what we can find for you."

There weren't many people in the store so you could easily move around maze of shelves and boxes. Akutagawa's demeanour slowly relaxed as he kept digging through the drawers packed with lingerie, carefully considering each piece; at some point you left to look around the store yourself.

Around twenty minutes later he returned to you carrying a baby pink bag.

"All done love. We can leave now." he said, handing you the bag.

You eagerly reached for it, attempting to remove the fluffy material that had been placed on top of the items but he brushed your hand away.

"Wait until we get home, ok? Be patient"

You let out a displeased groan but ultimately closed the handbag. Fingers gently intertwined, you made your way back to your apartment.

Once inside you seated yourself on your cushioned sofa and eagerly opened the bag. It contained two sets of laced lingerie: one of them was fully back and the other one was white, adorned with black and silvery rose patterns. The fabric was soft and lightweight, like a leaf.

"Wow Ryu they're beautiful. I love them so much" you beamed, pulling him into a tight hug. "You're amazing love"

"Wait, there's more." he said in a suggestive voice, reaching inside the pocket of his coat to procure a package. "I just couldn't help myself when I saw it."

You raised an eyebrow at him as you began to unwrap the light pink paper; it opened like a cherry blosson, revealing a strappy bodysuit. The thing lines of leather were bound together by shining circles of metal A blush rose to your cheeks.

"I- uh. It's really pretty love. I didn't know you liked this stuff tho"

"I love it, darling" he said in a honeyed voice, a hint of desire flashing in his eyes. "Now go ahead and try it on dear. The night is still young."

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

he's such a tease

he doesn't have that much money so he'll only buy you one or two sets but they're picked so carefully

but if he has more cash one week he'll surely get one of those silly animal print panties from the sales section

I feel like Dazai likes beige lingerie the most or those white see-through pieces with butterfly patters♡

trying on the clothes once you get back home is a must; like you're putting on a fashion show for him

It was a wonderful Sunday afternoon and your lovely boyfriend decided to skip work again to join you for a cup of coffee in town.

"Ah my bella if you keep tempting me with all these hangouts I'll surely lose my job" he said in an overly dramatic voice.

"You know the Agency needs you, so don't stress it. Plus, I hardly ever get a free day from work myself. Let's just enjoy it ok?"

Your remark caused a smirk to rise to Dazai's lips. The two of you quietly sipped your coffee before resolving to take a walk around town. As you strolled around the busy city, you suddenly spotted a lingerie store and an idea popped into your mind.

"Say, Osamu" you began in a tender voice "Don't you think you deserve a reward for skipping work today?"

"Oh really? And what exactly do you have in mind, bella?" he replied with a miscievous smile on his face.

You pointed at the lingerie store. "I'll let you buy anything you want me to wear."

Your sweet boyfriend could barely contain his excitement as he took your hand in his and began walking towards the store. "Well then let's hurry bella. I only have an hour until I have to get back to the office."

You've been in a Victoria's Secret shop before, but none of them was as large as this one; hundreads of drawers and clothing racks decorated the sides of the store while the middle was occupied by beautifully dressed mannequins and islands of boxes. People flocked around the cash register, carrying handfuls of garments.

Dazai whisteled in surprise. "There's surely many things I can choose from. If you want to you can go look around too."

You gave him a reassuring nod and with that, your boyfriend left. Around half an hour later, he returned with a couple of garments.

"I found these but I wanted to check with you if you like them." he said in a sweet voice. However, the glimmer of amusement in his eyes didn't go unnoticed. He held a see-through white bra adorned with drawings of vines and pink and red flowers in front of you.

"Look how pretty this is. You know what a perfect view I'll have when I use your tits to-"

"Osamu!" you exclaimed, covering his mouth with your hand. "You can't say that. We're in public"

Your boyfriend only chuckled at your reaction, gently removing your hand from his face.

"Ok ok I'll stop. But you got the point. You'd look amazing in this."

Then he cast aside the set and showed you a beautiful cream coloured silky dress; its cleavage was laced and it had two thin straps for your shoulders.

"I remembered you were looking for one of these a few weeks ago. Do you like it?"

A wide smile rose to your lips as you ardently nodded. It was indeed a lovely dress, which reminded you of a pearl; the material was soft and elegant and the colour perfectly complemented your chestnut hair and brown eyes.

"I love it honey. Let's get them"

"As you wish my darling" he beamed, walking towards the register.

That evening Dazai made sure you put on a show; he made you wear the things he got you, matching them with accessories you already had.

"Wow you look ravishing, dear. Do a twirl"

You obeyed and quickly spun around once, earning a smile from your partner.

"Now I also got you something else. I slipped it to the cashier when you weren't looking. Promise not to laugh, ok?"

"Um.. ok?" you said with a sceptical look on your face.

Dazai took out a pair of tiger print panties with 'Bite me!' on the front. You burst into laughter upon seeing them.

"I just couldn't resist they look so silly. Plus, they were on sale."

"But Osamu how will they even fit me? They look like they're from the kid's section" you said between ragged breathes, wiping a tear of joy from the corner of your eye.

"Well, there's only one way to find out if they'll fit. Go change bella♡"

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂

this man when I tell you~ he's the definition of lemme spoil you babygirl

he's more than happy to oblige you

walks so proudly in the store and immediately starts picking up things from you

unlike Dazai, he doesn't care about the price; if he likes a £200 matching he'll get it so he probably ends up buying half of the store

while he picks up the pieces the likes he keeps telling you how beautiful you'll look in them and how he cannot wait to get home to try out some of the things he got you

Chuya likes black or burgundy lingerie the best, but also anything with straps

"Chuu" you cried out, pulling at your boyfriend's arm "Come on the shop's going to close soon."

You somehow managed to convince Chuya to come with you to the newly opened Victoria's Secret in town by promising him that he can pick anything he wants for you.

"I'm coming darling." he said as he languidly opened the glass doors of the store. "After you, my lady"

You entered the shop, barely able to conceal your excitement. It was packed with people and garments of all colours: elegant lingerie and nightgowns, shoeboxes and bottles of perfume.

"Woah! I didn't expect it to be this big" you exclaimed "What do you think, Chuu?"

Your boyfriend's gaze lazily wandered around the room; he seemed utterly unimpressed by the store.

"I mean, it wouldn't be my first choice for a shop. I prefer things from Bluebella or Bordelle, maybe even Fleur Du Mal. But I'm sure I'll be able to find something for you in here too" he said with a wink as he began walking around the store.

Naturally, you didn't know any of the brands he mentioned but you assumed they were luxurious; Chuya had an eye for expensive things.

Your boyfriend seem carefree as he carefully explored each mannequin and drawer.

"Wow look at this" he said as he held a pair of wine red see-through panties before you "You'd look absolutely ravishing in these."

His hand then travelled along the expanse of a mannequin's chest. It was wearing a matching set of black lace lingerie; the panties were connected to the bra by two leather straps, bound in the middle by a heart shaped metal. One of his fingers hooked under the iron heart, gently pulling at it.

"Oh darling what I'd do to you in this. Imagine how pretty you'd look wearing this and one of my leather chokers. My, my doll we must get this" he said in a teasing voice, causing your cheeks to turn a light shade of pink.

You only had about half an hour until the store closed for the day, but that didn't stop Chuya from buying you six sets of lingerie, two red bodysuits, a silky slip dress and two bottles of perfume. You stepped out of the shop, yoir boyfriend carrying six little pink bags.

"Darling we shouldn't have gotten all those things. They were way too expensive and-"

"Shh dear let me spoil you today, alright? You deserve it." he cooed at you, leaning in to place a feathery kiss on your lips. "Besides, you can make up for it tonight."

"And what exactly do you mean my that?" you said back, copying his alluring tone.

A smirk rose to his lips as his free arm snaked around your lower back, pulling you closer to him His breath was hot against the shell of your ear as he spoke, causing a shiver to run down your spine:

"I think you know exactly what I mean, dear. It involves you wearing that beautiful bodysuit I got you"

[blueberryarchive]

—the sketch and the smaller eye; kth

Lonely man Kim Taehyung leads a fairly stable routine in his life away from civilization affected by an infection without a cure. Stability ends the day you arrive, no one knows how you got there, but one thing is for sure: Taehyung won't let you go.

🌿pairing; Artist!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

🌿word count; 8.1k

🌿tw; widower!tae, post-apocalitic scenario, mentions of disease, weight loss and death, very brief mention of arms, age gap (21 & 30-ish), smut (manhandling, whiNY Taehyung, edging, spanking, oral (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talk), gruesome details of the virus.

🌿themes; strangers to lovers, slow burning, cottage-core.

🌿inspired by; ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿ ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ ᵖˡˢ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The walk all the way home was always one of his favorite things to do when it was hunting day, the way the wind danced between the dying leaves and made music inside the hollow trees, the sun setting with the most beautiful tones of pink. It always reminded him of the times he spent just drawing all alone until you came into his land.

The day was August 8th, the heat was overbearing and like all of the other days around the same time, probably four or five (he wouldn't know because his only clock died a year ago), Taehyung sat down in the shadow of an old oak tree that has been his only friend, besides his dog, since he came to this lonely and God-forgotten place, were he was blessed and cursed with solitude and the cruel nature.

He had a small tin box with all of his drawing supplies, broken pencils, a piece of eraser gum the size of a nail, and a reddish tint drying up in a baby food crystal jar. Every day he told himself that he was making more yellow with the few sunflowers in his backyard, but today of all days he actually stood up to look for the petals.

The flowers were right outside the kitchen window, the sun was going down, and they were hunched over, withered, and full of little flying butterflies. His calloused hands took a pair of petals, the most vibrant and alive.

The sudden sound of cracking leaves and the barking of his dog disturbed him.

Taehyung perfectly remembers the moment he saw your frightened eyes, the color of the sunset over your weak body clinging to a log, an improvised cane. Torn clothes, dry mouth like a corpse, wet hair for some reason. Did you cross the river?

The first reaction of both was primal, like two animals that didn't plan to meet. Taehyung only turned on the fireplace at night, only for a couple of hours, so as not to attract attention. 

So what were you doing there? Were you lost? Impossible, he was too far from civilization. Were you infected? The wolves would've eaten you by now. Either way, he didn't like the idea of someone new.

The petals sweated their amber ink on Taehyung's hand, you tried to maintain your position, your gaze... almost afraid to blink. The man was not afraid to take action, hand already inside his overall pocket. Without much, his hand raised a pistol, sleek and silver. He was pointing straight at your face, your hair in a ponytail revealing your exposed forehead, like an invitation to explode it with a bullet.

"No, please." You muttered. So soft and yet, Taehyung got scared hearing someone else's voice. It wasn't a growl, nor the crash of stones from the river, nor the rain, nor the cawing of crows, nor his own grunts when chopping wood, nor the barking from his old dog. "I'll go." You begged again, letting go of the log. Taehyung tensed, even more, hearing you again.

So soft and sad. So delicate when the world around was burning.

"Are you coming with someone else?" he growled, getting closer and looking around. The forest seemed quiet, and his dog would have warned him.

"No, just me."

"If you lie it'll be worse for you."

"I know." You lowered your head to avoid the black eye of the gun.

"Are you sick?" the question was simple. Taehyung was trying to look for signs of infection. He hadn't felt this fear since the last time he lost his wife to that fucking disease.

You denied it, slowly.

"Show me," he said with a lowered tone, calm eyes as you undressed as quickly as possible. No marks. Elbows, hands, neck, eyes. All clean. With a sigh from both, the barking stopped.

"Walk to the tree over there, and if you try to do anything funny I'm going to put every fucking bullet in your head," he said giving a simple condition. He started moving with you in front.

Without saying anything else, you both walked slowly to the trunk. The afternoon was already turning blue, cicadas were playing a tense melody. Your bare back revealed your vertebrae, hard balls under your skin looking as if it was going to break. You hugged yourself, trying to keep the heat of your body, perhaps even your modesty.

With a whistle, Frank appeared: an old dog with red eyes and floppy ears. Seeing the naked stranger, he growled loudly. Your hands began to tremble, the weapon and the animal made a cry of pain come out of you, a plea with tears falling down your ashy cheeks. But you didn't see a drop of mercy in Taehyung's eyes, you knew that having this kind of loneliness was not achieved without having to kill several from time to time.

The eyes of the man in front of you were unbending and cold, lips pressed into a thin line, thick hands gripping Frank's chain and his gun. Stains of watercolors and charcoal on his fingers.

"C'mon, buddy," he whispered and the dog came closer little by little to sniff your body. "Bend down." You obeyed.

The animal took its time sticking its wet nose into your hair and skin until it snorted as it sat down. Taehyung lowered the gun.

That was the beginning of your recovery, long days lying between rough, thick sheets. Yellowed pillows that smelled of Taehyung's hair, hand-rolled cigarettes on the nightstand. Every morning he would get up before the sun came up and carry his hunting artifacts over his shoulder. Frank stayed with you while you tried to kill time in the cabin.

You learned how to garden and cook, roll the cigars, and dry the tobacco in the sun. The books were plenty, but reading was an activity you only did if Taehyung was the one reading to you, he did it every night. Even when the fever was so high you couldn't keep up with the story.

When you were at your worst, he held your head to put you in one of his sweaters, and even left the crackling fire all night to keep you warm in the cold.

Every night he started, with a rough and tired voice, around 8 o'clock, to read you a chapter from a book of poems or letters; or the list of lost people in the old newspaper.

"I do it to keep me sane," he said. "I went a long period without saying a word, and I started to forget how to say them, my tongue used to get jammed." He explained to you while drawing an empty cup of tea next to you.

You could only tell him a couple of questions each night, he used to get tired very easily. The first two weeks you couldn't even pronounce two words before he started to lose his patience.

"You don't have to know anything about me," his eyebrows locked in a frown. "When you get better, you can go and it will be like we never met."

But now it has been three months, you think. You recovered pretty well, and you can do the chores while he's out. You try your best every day so he notices that you won't be a bother if he lets you stay.

He doesn't ask questions about how you came to be on this side of the river, and you thank him for that. The memories blurred in your mind, like a sketch that's been erased again and again. 

Taehyung get's home at sunset, you are outside breaking some newspapers into pieces. The notebooks he used to draw in were already full, so you decided to make him a new one. 

You are wearing a dress he found in an abandoned house, it was a teen size but he loves it. He doesn't know your age yet, but he knows you're probably in your early twenties. He loves when the sun is scorching hot and your only choice is to let your thighs and shoulders out while you cook and clean. The hem flows with the wind letting him see your bare ass while you put the paper to dry.

You two haven't had sex, you never gave him signs, maybe because he looked a little bit older. He never felt like he had to hide an inexistent lust, until a few weeks ago. 

Two, to be exact. 

You were in the nearest river. A flimsy white t-shirt, wine-drunk, and talking so much. You were so irksome with your questions. The cold water sticking the fabric to your body like marble while you asked about Taehyung's boring routine. Your babble was such, you started asking about him jerking off and how sex works in solitude.

The way you laughed made him blush with anger. Sketches he was trying to make from the water lilies turned into ones from your eyes. 

That day he had to take a cold shower in the river after leaving you by the fire in the house. His face was boiling red, tired of your babbling and hard as a log.

The idea of you making him horny made him mad for some reason; it made him feel like a high school boy, but it was natural. He had years without seeing a woman. And you were pretty. So pretty for no fucking reason.

He knew that being in his early thirties probably made him less attractive to you, he was a grumpy man, almost a caveman how he reacted to your ways. That's why he didn't try, not even think about it... not always.

Now you have him going to abandoned houses on the other side of the river, looking for things for you: like a small bottle of perfume, a broken mirror, and old photos of people who are probably dead by now. A way to show he cared without using words. 

When he got to the rock path, the crackle made you turn around, you were smiling like always, and his heart felt warm.

"I told you to do that earlier. The paper won't dry today," He grunted, acting more tired than he was so you leave everything behind and get near him. You get a cigar from a basket near you and light it for him. You pass it to him after taking a puff.

"But you can draw on one piece of paper."

"That's not how it works."

"It'll have to work."

Taehyung pressed his lips together, he knew you enjoyed arguing with him, but more than those few words would not come out of him. You rolled you eyes going back to hang the wet paper.

"I'm making dinner tonight," he muttered like ten minutes later and then silence again. Another cigar, the old Frank by his side while he watched the sunset disappear.

The reading hours were around six to seven, right after dinner. It was the same routine when you first stayed, and it is the same now: After dinner, he gets comfortable in bed, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and with the gas lamp he lights the tip. Book in hand. 

The words he didn't say all day would overflow as he read chapter by chapter. In an appropriate tone, pauses at the commas, giving life to each character. A treat for the ears.

After looking for a book on the first floor, he entered the room and stood up, his eyes went to the corner where there was a broken mirror, and in its reflection, you were, combing your hair in a ponytail, so poorly done that it was better to leave it loose. But the strands that were floating in the air, in front of your eyes, made Taehyung's fingers tingle, wanting to take every strand and pull it towards him.

There was a heaviness in the air that early autumn night. The silence was thick, and the yellowish lamplight cast heavier shadows on every piece of furniture. Abrupt and defined as in a baroque painting.

The curve in which his eyes concentrated more were the ones that defined your waist and your stomach, how it bulged slightly like a hill stamped with the flowers of your skimpy dress.

"Turn around," you muttered, like you didn't care if he did it or not, as you started to remove your dress; snapping Taehyung out of the sketches he was drawing in his head. He went to open the window to let some of the heat out of the room, letting the smoke creep through the curtains.

"I think I know what I'm going to read to you today," he cleared his throat, looking down at his bare feet pacing anxiously across the room. The shadow of your silhouette moving on the floor, the bone-white nightgown falling on your curves, exposing one of Taehyung's weaknesses: the connection of your neck and your shoulders, subtle but lethal.

He wanted to press his face between and close his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin. Rich and peachy, like when the trees have so much fruit that they start to ripen on the same tree.

"You haven't finished showing me the stamp book yet." You dropped on the bed.

"I'm already bored of it."

"Odd." you noticed, watching him bend down and open a suitcase under the bed. "And those?" As you approached you saw a collection of books.

They were small, wrinkled, and minimalist in cover. Some were yellowed papers seized by the red wax on the spine.

Taehyung snorted at the question and looked up, daring you to keep acting innocent. He knew that you knew every corner of the house.

"I want you to say it," you smiled.

"Force me."

"I want you to say that Taehyung, the hard-faced man, has a collection of erotic books under his bed."

"You already said it. I don't have the need."

"Why do you have it under the bed?"

"What are you talking about?" Taehyung moved the books until he found a small book in Spanish. The pink cover with a painting of a mischievous Renaissance woman smiling.

"Kept under the bed, in a suitcase. Like a secret."

"I'm not ashamed of reading erotica if that's what you assume." he closed the suitcase and dropped his body next to you. His head near your legs, yours lying on the opposite side.

"And why do you have it like they're illegal." you held the cigarette he offered you.

"Habits of a human who lived in a society, I suppose."

You inhale the cigarette while he searched for the short between his long fingers, the book opened softly. His thumb pressed down the middle of the pages.

The glass of wine had you sparkling, you still hadn't gotten used to the alcohol. You had not drunk in so long that you did not remember its effects. There was something on the tip of your tongue, a confession that couldn't wait, an itch that needed to be scratched.

Before you could speak, Taehyung let out a soft "Ah" as he found the story for the night.

"A man who came about five years ago translated this story by Anaïs Nin for me. When he found out that I painted, he told me that he had a story for me."

"What's it called?" Without realizing it, your hand began to caress Taehyung's leg.

"La Maja," he pronounced. "Like Goya's painting"

Your head fell back on the stacked pillows, Taehyung's lips moved as he read a homemade translation of the story.

"He pulled back the sheets that covered her and slowly lifted the silk nightgown. He was able to lift it over her breasts without her giving the slightest sign of awakening. When it was uncovered all over the woman's body, he contemplated it for as long as he wanted. Her arms were detached from her body; her breasts stretched out before his eyes like an offering. He was aroused by his desire but he did not dare to touch her. Instead, he brought paper and pencils, sat by her bedside, and took notes. As he worked, he had the sensation of caressing each of the perfect lines of the woman's body."

Taehyung's eyes would lift to yours after reading the paragraph, turning back to the page with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The human habit of blushing when you want things so badly, he thought.

The smoke from the dying cigar between your fingers snaked through your hair and the softness of your chin. Taehyung was never more jealous of something so ephemeral.

He couldn't find where he had stayed and the silence became so loud that you could only do what was right.

"I followed you today."

"What?" Taehyung didn't understand, you had spoken so low that he almost didn't notice it.

"To the woods, when you left this morning."

When he closed the book, you knew that what little sweetness Kim showed you turned sour. 

"I have told you that you must stay here, with Frank. Safe." You both got up at the same time, you followed Taehyung looking for his gaze which he averted.

"I'm not asking you to keep me safe, Kim" you replied.

There was a pause as he pricked at his bottom lip. Was that in his pupils the sign of an offense? Taehyung clucked at you, turning around.

"Kim," you tried to fix it by brushing against his shoulder. "It's not that I'm a helpless deer, I know how to protect myself." You laughed to lighten the mood. Bad idea.

A question, like a small forgotten flame, reappeared in Taehyung's brain. Out of courtesy when you got sick in the first few weeks, he didn't ask where you came from, why you were alone, or how you came to cross the wide river that divided a civilization almost thousands of kilometers to the left. When politeness turned to infatuation, the question was no longer so important. He felt that he could trust you and that he had a new purpose besides survival: to keep you safe.

Fallacies.

"How did you come to find me?"

"What?" the smile faded from your face.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

Your eyes moved erratically in his gesture, a frown. Just like when you came in drenched that August. No trust.

"Don't know."

He just snorted denying, he didn't believe you, and that irritated you.

"Sure, of course."

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"I don't believe it, I know." His body moved from side to side, arranging books and picking things up off the ground.

Your flushed face and clenched fists. Boiling alcohol in your veins.

"Well, you can go to hell with your lonely man farce."

"OK." Taehyung sighed daring you to continue insulting him.

"You do know that things aren't as horrible as at the start of the pandemic anymore, right?"

"Oh yeah?" His eyes widened in theatrical surprise.

"The infected are controlled and-," Seeing how he continued to feign interest, you pushed him aside and grabbed your dress from the floor, beginning to change. Tears accumulated without permission in your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled.

"Then you do know something about your past."

"Fuck you, Kim."

"No, because you lied to me and now you say things like how you know how to defend yourself in a forest full of wild wolves and that you traveled several kilometers by water and land to get here. And you want me not to ask questions about it." He moved closer to you so close that he could see the torment in your eyes.

"Exactly." You muttered putting on your garden boots.

"That request is absurd and you know it." his laugh was careless. He was drunk too.

"I know."

You both stared at each other, your hair was no longer tied up and its shadow hid both of your features under its shadow. Your lips parted at the sight of his.

"I don't remember how I got to this place," you whispered, a tear fell to your cheek and you cursed how sensitive alcohol made you. You saw how Taehyung's face softened in the presence of your pain. "I swear I would have told you if I knew."

Taehyung swallowed hard and looked out the window. He hated seeing others cry, he hated when his wife did it, and he hates seeing it now in your lost gaze. There was something in the way you were, in the quality of your emotions and your hope in everything that reminded him so much of her. His wife died at the same age you were.

Taehyung and her were both idiots and thought that living far away was all it took to escape the infection.

It was stupid of him to let her go hunting alone that day, he shouldn't have let a simple fever keep him in bed when she was out there.

He spent years waiting for her to come back. Waiting for some afternoon that he will hear her quick steps coming down the gravel road. Much later, he found a piece of her shirt floating on the bank of a river.

Taehyung closed his eyes and nodded. It was dangerous to let you stay, he still didn't fully trust you. But what was the use of being alone so much when he only waited for the next day and the day after until one day he could die naturally?

Your body tensed as his hand rose to sink into your hair and kiss your forehead. So delicate, without causing any noise.

"Sleep well," he whispered leaving the book on the table. His chest hurt with the immense amount of feelings you make him feel in one day.

It's overbearing and he loved it. But his poor soul needed time.

For the first time in all that time together, he decided to sleep on the first floor.

You didn't know what to say, you were already ready for him to just ask you to leave. So you were thankful he actually just…left.

When the door creaked shut, you let loneliness engulf you. You cried, glued to the pillow like a child. Of relief, of uncertainty, for that kiss.

The days are long when there is nothing to say. When you don't look at him, when you ignore him with your unsubtle ways: you leave your clothes poorly folded, you don't finish the dishes he makes for you, your cigarettes are badly rolled, and you punish him by wearing those shirts that reveal your cleavage.

If you knew what you did to him, would you take advantage of him? Would he hate it?

Taehyung can feel your eyes on his back as he tries to light the fireplace at night, the cold is cruel in the mountains, even crueler than the tension in the small living room. You find yourself sitting watching the flame grow and grow, Taehyung trying to appear as calm as possible as if he didn't have the gears of his brain fed up trying to figure out how to talk to you.

Apart from a 'what do you want for dinner?', a 'yes' or a 'no'.

He felt he talked more with poor Frank, who slept about eighteen hours a day.

He cleared his throat at the smoke and held up his hand for more newspaper. You gave it instantly. And suddenly, a miracle: for the first time in weeks, your voice.

"Tomorrow is my birthday," you said embarrassedly, arms crossed.

With a tight-lipped smile on Kim's mouth, he nodded and looked into your tired eyes.

Your voice was still just as sweet and calm, you wanted to try to sound weary. But he noticed every afternoon when he came home from hunting, the way you moved through the little orchard and sang while you bathed Frank. Your laughter was his antidote, it healed his tiredness and the ache of his soul.

"We should celebrate it." He proposed, but you instantly denied it.

"I want you to take me."

"What do you mean?" he blushed, looking deep into your eyes.

"Take me somewhere."

Taehyung dropped the newspaper on the fire. He sighed softly, (not in relief, but disappointed) and sat in the old chair in the corner, legs apart as he rolled a cigarette.

"Where do you want to go?"

"To the house on top." you pointed east.

"How do you know there's a house on top?"

"Because I saw it in your drawings." your pupils let you see its shine for the first time in weeks. The cold made you look so beautiful. The little contact he had with you, he missed it so much.

Your cheeks took on color with the coming of winter, your lips like two slices of ripe fruit, red and full of juice. "And I found your binoculars in the warehouse."

"Mm," he couldn't even get mad at you and your insatiable curiosity. He was glad to hear you. Besides, who was he to deny you going up to that abandoned mansion, even when fear consumed him that they would attack you?

"Sure, we'll go." you let the corner of your lips rise, Taehyung feigned seriousness. "But it can't be tomorrow. We need at least two days of walking to get there, and we have to prepare."

You licked your lips and got up, letting the cloth that wrapped you from head to toe fall to your shoulders. You raised your arms, and Taehyung frowned, not understanding the gesture.

"Come here, it's almost twelve, and I'm going to be twenty-one."

Although they both knew that no clock gave them a certain time, Kim didn't care and you less. Leaving the cigarette next to him, he stood up and awkwardly let his strong arms swallow you, your head on his chest.

The hug was a thank you from you, but with just a few more seconds, you realized that Taehyung didn't want to let go. You opened your eyes, he could feel your confusion.

"Just-" he stammered, tensing his arms a little more to bring you closer to the warmth of his body. Silence.

Rich and peachy.

"What?"

"No, nevermind."

"Kim." you wanted to look at his eyes but didn't let you.

"I haven't hugged anyone in years." he murmured, a sigh of relief.

The confession made your chest sink. The breathing of the man in your arms was soft and ragged. As if he was nervous.

"Can you play with my hair?" he hummed, timid and needy, warming your shoulder with his breath; chills covering your skin.

You let your fingers explore his fluffy hair, the little ripples covering your palm and fingertips. You heard another sigh from him and felt how his arms slid to hug the sides of your waist.

"Feels good?" you dared to ask, breathing the musk on his jacket. He just nodded longingly, closed eyes and brows knitted; the crackle of the fire in the fireplace melting his heart.

Your throat was dry, and your lips parted, God knows you wanted to enjoy that hug, how Taehyung bent his body slightly to hide his head in your neck. Perhaps it was the lack of contact or the fire in the fireplace, but your body bubbled over a slow fire with each exhale that collided with your neck.

"Tae-" you swallowed and grabbed his shoulders so he could see you.

The drunkenness in the eyes of the man in front of you was so short but so sweet. Discovering his attitude, he pricked the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, don't worry about the trip. We can start packing tomorrow."

"I think I remember some of what happened to me."

"Oh." His eyes widened, gesturing as he tried to ask you to explain. You loved the gestures that came out of Taehyung when he didn't know the protocol of conversations. It wasn't 'thank you', but a tightening of the lips into a brief smile; no 'Don't move' when he painted but a little grunt and a deny.

You both took a seat on the furniture and got as close as possible, there was no one around, but this was how both of you got used to talking to each other. Whispers, watching each other's lips and laughter, when it was intended, with the hand on the mouth.

"I remember a boat, I remember several women and two men," you murmured, your eyes tilted into the fire. "A group came on another boat and threw us on the shore, they beat the men so much that they died and left the women to suffer."

Kim bit the inside of his cheek, he knew the day you would remember your past would be difficult. The beginning of the lethal virus was so surreal for him.

"I don't remember their faces much, just their hair. I remember…one feverish night, the women covered me with a blue coat that they had taken from one of the men." your hand trembled, and Taehyung took it without hesitating. "When I woke up, they were all in stage two."

Stage two of the virus was when their bodies began to slow down, sleep being the main activity, even at times when they needed to urinate. Your body didn't feel like getting up.

Taehyung remembers how one of his college classmates slept fully for two days, he opened his eyes when called but closed them instantly.

"When I saw them I thought the same thing was going to happen to me, apparently they killed an infected animal and ate it among themselves without giving me a piece. I don't blame them. I also thought the fever was going to kill me that night," you shrugged. "When I woke up I found trash, fruit, and headless bugs on the floor. The virus searched for everything it could to feed before going into coma…, and then, um-"

Your gaze drifted away, as if you saw the women sprawled on their backs with their mouths open and sunken eyes on the cabin rug.

"Their bodies started to swell, their chests and stomachs and throats. The eggs-" you denied and Taehyung felt chills. "They began to grow and incubate, I cried for hours and hours in silence, sitting on a log." your voice quivered. "I crossed the river at low tide, and stayed on the rocks to wait."

"You were sent to explore the area. You were the same as I was years ago." Taehyung bit his lip, squeezing your hand.

"I don't understand."

"I thought they didn't send scouts to this area anymore. The infection is so old I thought they wouldn't need any more information."

"What do you mean when you say you were the same?" You frowned and stared at him.

"I was a soldier, my family needed money, and the doctors found a way to make us think they could save my dad from the virus." the memories made his tense neck move involuntarily. "They sent me to this side to find information about the virus, the source."

"You and how many others?"

Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. Maybe he was even making up the story of his father getting sick, who knows at this point?

"I still don't remember. I just know that I kept walking and walking wit this girl by my side,until we found this hill, and even she disappeared."

They both fell silent. Taehyung had already told you about the disappearance of his wife, unlike other topics, this was the one that seemed like a fable. There were no traces, like smoke that vanished on a sunset.

You can see on his eyes that ache every time he mentions her; you wish you could lick his old wounds, not to cure them, but to soothe the pain.

The way he was holding your hand and the fire trembling on his tan skin made him look like an angel. An untamed one leaves instead of feathers, strong arms to carry the world around him.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Taehyung," you called, and he didn't have to move because your hand took him by surprise. Guiding him to your hungry lips.

He moaned lowly, making his free hand into a fist to control the euphoria that was running through his body. The wet sound of your mouths devouring each other, he didn't know how much he needed that, the warmth of your tongue licking his lips, the little pant coming out of your strawberry lips.

Oh, how much he hated the fact that he was getting hard just from a kiss, but how couldn't he, good God? You were so delicious.

He snatched his hand from yours and took both of your hands to squeeze above your head. Your back arched, and you mewled as you felt his hand squeeze your wrists.

Taehyung's eyes flickered to your face. Was he doubting what he was doing? Did you do something wrong?

"If you want to stop-"

"No," he growled desperately. With ease, his free hand grabbed the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, clashing teeth.

"Slow down, Kim." you gasped as he devoured your neck, covering in saliva the fabric of the coat that covered you, almost tearing it apart.

Your hand explored his corduroy pants until it reached the tight bulge against his thigh.

"No. I don't want to," he screeched as he watched what you were doing. "Please, I'm too sensitive right now." It was a plea for you to let him enjoy touching you for a few more minutes, his glassy eyes and red lips.

You were cruel, and God, how he hated you for that. You chuckled low and spread your legs to climb into his lap. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, hands on either side of the couch.

In one sitting, you were pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.

"Oh no, please. Let me-," his hands went to his mouth, squeezing it hard, the words coming out muffled.

With so few moans he had you addicted to his susceptibility. To his droopy eyes and his angelic whimpers over every little thing you did.

"Please," he asked again but it was in vain when you started moving back and forth and licking his neck. "Fuck me, i can't. Baby-" he mumbled rolling his eyes, reaching heaven with so little. The 'baby' scaped again and again from his lips until it died out.

It was embarrassing, but so sublime.

You loved it. No. You became obsessed.

When he finished, you could feel the wetness on his thigh. You laughed again, taking his face in your fingers; he hung from your fingertips like a puppet. His chin resting on them.

"You look so cute when you're sweaty in the middle of a blizzard," you said. He closed his eyes, enjoying the compliment.

Without saying anything else, leaving a wet spot on top of his zipper and his mouth open; you got up and went up the rustic stairs.

You were going to be the death of him.

The morning arrives quietly and with the sun coming in gently through the windows, you are grateful that the snow has stopped as you get up to put on your socks. Frank was sleeping between woolen sheets in the closet. When he heard you calling him he opened his eyes and lazily moved his thick tail.

The bed was made on Taehyung's side. Last night you hardly slept thinking about what you two had done in the living room, you waited anxiously for him to go to the room to finish what you had started, but you fell asleep waiting for him.

Maybe he was upset because you rushed him or he was embarrassed. Either way, you could still feel the moisture your pussy had let out just thinking about his face coming. Like a broken record, just as his pelvis raised to make one last contact with your clit.

You sighed and let the cool water calm your arousal. The small mirror showed your reflection, you were pale. Since the sun doesn't rise so often, you feel like you're withering. The tinting of your cheeks was already disappearing.

Your eyes were guided to the small photo pasted on the mirror, it was an ID with your face. The ink on the image was fading, with your name and date of birth right next to it.

It was the only thing you had for sure, maybe your face wasn't even that one. You returned to your reflection and began to notice every little detail: the dark circles under your eyes and the dry lips from biting them so much, the slightly yellowish teeth, and the eye that was smaller than the other. 

That's new, you thought. Only if you looked hard enough could you see how your right eye involuntarily closed a little more than the other, the more you looked at it in the mirror, the more obvious it was.

The sound of a pot falling followed by a grunt made you snap out of your morning exam. You walked quickly to the stairs going down in a hurry.

You were surprised to see Taehyung in the kitchen, his hands covered in whipped cream and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A small tight smile apologizing for waking you up.

"Uh," he wiped his hands clean and leaned closer to you, placing an awkward kiss on your forehead. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." You smiled softly, his hand found yours to guide you to the rustic table that he had made years ago, it was heavy and robust. It combined with everything that was seen in that kitchen, small details you had done here and there, but the smell of oak and the thick fabric of the curtains and the tablecloth were essentially Taehyung.

"I made you breakfast. You must eat it all or I'm really going to stop talking to you for a month."

As if he could.

"Because?"

"I spent all night trying to make whipped cream, found a book in the stack and it took me almost a dozen eggs to get it right."

"That's where you were last night." You smiled and he tensed, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "Did you need a book to know how to follow our...?" You made an obscene gesture that made Taehyung turn to finish breakfast.

"You are so intense in the mornings."

"You've stopped smoking in the morning, have you noticed?"

Taehyung frowned. "It's true."

"I annoy you so much you don't need the nicotine to wake up."

"If that achievement makes you happy, go ahead." He crossed his legs as he sat down next to you. "Bon appétit."

You looked in front of you, on your plate was a piece of freshly baked bread toasted in the color of the sun. The whipped cream was smooth and slightly eggy, with peach slices decorated on top creating an attempt at a flower. The smell was intoxicating and your mouth watered from it.

Taehyung's chest swelled with joy as you took the first bite and inhaled. You looked at him tenderly. That human habit of food being the perfect language to show love without touching.

"It's good," you agreed taking another bite. "Did you try it?"

Taehyung denied raising his hand to ask you to continue tasting.

"I have something else for you," he said before you took another bite. You could see and hear in the silence of the kitchen how his foot bounced with eagerness to show you the other things.

Taehyung took a paper bag from his jacket hanging on the door and put it on your lap. His hands didn't let you open the material, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"Slow down, Kim. For God's sake." you laughed looking at him. He imitated you.

"Sorry, it's just that I've been saving this for a long time."

You couldn't stop seeing him, it was impossible how much you loved him in such a short time. You looked down at your lap as he lowered your chin with his hand.

Inside the paper were many trinkets, colorful and very varied. Buttons, an old lighter with a rose carved on it, a ring in the shape of a butterfly, a deep red dried ink, and underneath it all the pale lace of a lingerie set.

You smiled as you put everything else aside and looked at the pieces in detail.

"Isn't there a more subtle way of saying you want to fuck me?" you joked

Taehyung didn't laugh, again he was looking at you with nervous eyes.

"I want to give you a portrait."

You put the lingerie on the table and looked at him. You knew that his painting materials were becoming more and more scarce. You denied it instantly.

"Don't worry, I'll use some oils that I have saved, they are in perfect condition and I want to use them with you." he rose clutching your face in his hands, like something ethereal. How could he see you in the morning and make you feel so lovely?

"I want to paint your lips," he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "And your eyes."

"Even when one is smaller?"

He chuckled slightly at your sweet question.

"Especially the smaller one."

His hand grabbed the last bite of toast and opened your mouth with his thumb, delicately inserting it. "I told you to eat it all." his face was serious.

His thumb began to smear all the cream that remained in the corners of your mouth, pressing your lips while your tongue tried to lick his fingers.

"That is my girl." he hummed cocking his head at you.

Your toes tensed when you heard him say that.

"Open up," he commanded and you obeyed, opening your mouth to remove the sticky cream from his finger. He swallowedwhen he saw you lick every drop.

Your beautiful face, your messy hair, and your mouth covered in peach juices and whipped cream. So sweet and erotic that it made his stomach clench with the urge to eat you.

"I would like you to paint me in the summer, though."

"Because?"

"Because that way I could return the color to my cheeks, to see myself more..." you didn't know what the word was.

Taehyung could have cared less.

"Fine." he sighed and tossed the plate to the side with a crash. Suddenly, you were in his arms, he laid you down gently on the wood of the table.

"Tae?" a squeal came from you when you felt the cold in your pussy, Taehyung ripped your panties and began to rub his digits on your clit with such delicacy.

"Shh," he responded, grabbing the chair to walk over to the table and sit down. With one hand he brought your body closer to his face and began to run his tongue through your folds.

This is what he wanted to do last night and you didn't let him.

Your legs began to shake and he looked up through narrowed eyes. Your surprised face was so funny, it almost made him want to let you cum as fast as you let him.

"Spread your legs, let me see you." there was something so obscene about the way his voice deepened. He embarrassed you. "Aren't you going to let me eat you?"

You didn't know what to say.

"What happened that pretty girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up, huh?" His wet lips kissed your entrance with each word. "Where are your smart answers and the fucking questions about how I jerk off?" With one hand he hit your clit and you whimpered. "There it is." he smiled.

"God," you moaned so loud trying to get your nightgown down, it hurt so good. Taehyung squeezed your wrists with one hand and started devouring you again, your juices flowing on his nose and his tongue and you knew how much he liked it by the way he growled and bit the inside of your thigh.

It hurt but you couldn't stop moaning, your hands turning into claws from the tension wanting to grab his tangled hair, to see his face covered with it in a transparent and shiny layer.

"Atta, girl," he inhaled, snapping back. "Look at you," he smiled at you as he licked the edges of his lips. "The color is returning to your cheeks."

"What?" You stuttered before you felt how his hand collided with your ass. You screamed biting your lip.

"Come here."

His hand carried you to help your weak legs. With his hands under your armpits, he led you to the nearest wall.

"Get naked, pet."

"It's cold."

"Still?" Taehyung asked confused and piled the fabric of your dress in his hand until he found your wet pussy again. Without saying much, he inserted two fingers, curling the tips.

"More," you whispered, you were short of breath and you felt like you were in another cosmic plane with the long fingers of the man behind you.

His other hand began stroking your tummy until it reached your neck, squeezing gently. Hearing your sweet request, he laughed.

"You're a mess and I haven't even fucked you. Are you sure?"

You nodded awkwardly, your head pressed against the wall. A third finger was unexpected and burned.

"You're so wet, it's not fair." Kim sighed. "I want to do everything for you but you won't let me with that little body of yours."

"Mm," was all you could answer, your tongue was heavy and the knot under your stomach had you seeing stars.

"Those short dresses and the laughter and the erotic books and your perfect tits." he moaned turning you around to remove your dress.

Seeing your face again, Taehyung made up his mind; he couldn't take it anymore. Whipped cream decorated your cheek and your open mouth.

"Are you still cold?" His eyes saw you straight into your soul. You denied hugging his neck, hitting your lips with his.

If you didn't kiss him you felt like you were going to implode. His furrowed brows and his broad shoulders, the way he'd talk dirty to you but he'd kiss your shoulder calming your nerves.

There it was again, that tickle in your throat of saying things at the wrong time.

Shut me up with kisses, you thought, shut me up by sealing your lips with mine.

"More." Now it was Taehyung's turn to ask, moaning as he felt how your naked body hung from his waist.

He quickly lowered his pants until he took it off completely. Then his coat.

"Down," he murmured kissing you one last time crashing your body into the wall.

With one hand you grabbed his cock and started to move your hand. A cry came from him and you both nearly fell to the ground in a crash. Taehyung's legs failing from the sudden touch.

You laughed at Taehyung's irate gesture.

"In four. Now," he barked, after kissing you softly. "I want to fuck you, I don't want games anymore, 'kay?"

You nodded drunkenly at the way he spoke to you.

You stopped smiling when he repositioned you like a doll on your knees and hands.

You arched your back as you felt the tip stretch your entrance, you closed your eyes in pure pleasure. The sting was unbelievable, perfect.

"Mmhm," Taehyung ran his finger down your back, "Let me listen to you, love."

How can he call you that without melting?

You pushed yourself into him until your ass touched his pelvis. You both moaned each other's name.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing both sides of your waist to guide your movements. The sounds that filled the kitchen were indecent, your cream accumulated at the base of his cock and your moans drove him crazy.

Yes, he was like a schoolboy when it came to you, he couldn't see your cleavage without wanting to touch himself or look at your lips without wanting to bite them so badly that they bled. You were in addition to his antidote, his new favorite morbidity.

"Atta girl, squeeze me more," he hissed at you slowing his pace down. His moans turned to whimpers as you began to feel the cum dripping down your thighs. You were about to cum and he could feel it. "Let me feel those walls, baby. Cum for me."

You lifted your upper body so you could move against him and with two brushes of his fingers on your puffy clit you began to scream his name letting your face fall into your hands.

You both panted hard, abruptly, Taehyung pulled his cock out, revealing how his cum came out of you. God, he prays that this is the one that knocks you up.

Getting up, he grabbed your delicate body and took you to the sofa, lit the fireplace, and left you alone for a few minutes. When he returned he brought with him a blank canvas the length of his forearm and a couple of charcoal pencils.

The afterglow had your cheeks with the most beautiful tint. Flushed and plump lips from biting it so much. You let your hair do what it wants, just how he likes it and you smiled at him when he sat down in front of you. You squinted your eyes when you smiled and his shoulders relaxed.

"Stay still, please," he whispered while he took a pencil in his hands.

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

💖It's Valentine's Day 💖

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.1K

warning: none this is just some pure fluff. Maybe Lottie trying to play cupid....

A/N: I wasn't going to write anything for Valentine's Day but I was inspired by @jvanilly 's ask so here it is.

Series masterlist

“Dada no wook.” Charlotte says loudly as she hides around the corner from the living room. 

“Should I close my eyes, doll?” 

“Yes, pwease.” 

“Ok, they’re closed.” Bucky says with a smile at whatever it is that Lottie is up to now. He can hear her footsteps although they’re light against the hardwood floors. 

“Ok wook it.” 

Bucky opens his eyes to find Charlotte standing in front of him wearing a white shirt with a big pink heart, a pink tutu and white fluffy wings that look like they belong to angels on her back. Her hair is up in a twist held up in a heart shaped clip.

“Who do we have here? Are you Cupid?” 

“Mmhhmmm. You wike it?” She asks as she does a spin for him to see the whole outfit. 

“You’re the prettiest Cupid I’ve ever seen, doll.” 

Lottie gets bashful and giggles at the compliment. 

“Habe suwpwise.” 

“For me?” 

Lottie nods her head and holds out a handmade card for him. It’s a heart cut out of red construction paper glued to a white piece of paper and so much glitter. 

“This is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah.” She says shyly while looking up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. 

“Thank you, doll. I love it.” Bucky picks her up and gives her a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Dada?”

“Yeah, doll?” 

“Dada be my vawentine?”

Bucky smiles down at his little girl. “I would love to be your valentine. Are you going to be mine?”

“Yeah. I be dada’s vawentine.”

“Good. Your first valentine’s day has to be special.” 

****

“Hi mama.” Henry said almost as soon as you stepped out of the master bedroom. 

“Hi sweet boy. What are you up to?” 

“Nothing. Well something.” Henry gives you a sheepish look. 

You narrow your eyes in his direction with a bit of suspicion. But his innocent smile let you know whatever he’s up to isn’t anything mischievous. Henry holds up a construction paper heart, and a few paper flowers. 

“Will you be my valentine’s mama?” 

“I would love to be your valentine.” You accept the flowers and the cards before giving him a hug. “Are you going to be my valentine’s too?”

Henry nods against your midsection before pulling away. 

“Well we have to make your first valentine’s day super special, sweet boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

At Charlotte’s request you had curled her hair, pinning half of it up with heart shaped pins. You even let her wear a pink tinted lip balm and some soft pink eyeshadow. She was all smiles as she looked in the mirror. 

“Do you like it, sweet angel? You look beautiful.” You said from behind her. Looking at her through the mirror.

“Is so pwetty mama.” 

“I’m glad you like it. Now come on, let's get your dress and shoes on.”

“Kay.” Lottie hops off the stool she was sitting on and gets dressed up in her pink tulle dress with hearts all over. 

“Alright, I’m going to finish getting ready ok.”

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

“Alright bubs.” Bucky fixes the collar of Henry’s shirt so that it goes over his graphic tee. Then he smoothes out the cardigan Henry was wearing. “When we knock we give them the flowers and chocolates ok? Also remember to tell them how nice they look.”

“Yup.” 

“Let’s go get our girls then.” Bucky smiles as Henry grabs the flowers that he had picked out himself. 

Bucky follows suit and they walk out of Steve’s apartment where they went to get dressed. Giving you and Lottie privacy to have your own girl’s day as you got ready for the family date. 

At the door Henry knocks and waits for someone to answer the door. Lottie opens it with a huge smile on her face. It’s obvious she’s more than ready and excited for the evening. She lets Henry and Bucky in to wait for you to finish getting ready.

“Hi bubba. Hi dada.” She says. 

“Hi baby. You look so pretty.”

“Tank you bubba.”

“Hello my valentine. You look like a princess.” Bucky takes a knee. 

“Tank you dada.”

“These are for you.” Bucky holds out a small bouquet of flowers for her and a box of chocolates. 

Charlotte gasps as she takes her gifts. She buries her nose in the flowers and inhales just how she has seen you do so many times. 

“Is so nice dada, tank you.” 

“You’re welcome, doll.” 

You walk out a few minutes later, just as Bucky is putting Lottie’s flowers in a vase for her. He lets out a wolf whistle as he watches you reach the living room. You wore a red dress, the sleeves were short but puffy. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt flared out with a slit up one leg. You smile over your shoulder at Bucky before turning your attention to Henry. 

“Hi my sweet valentine.” You tell him.

“Hi mama, you look very pretty.” 

“Thank you, sweet boy.” You smile before giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“These are for you.” 

Henry holds out a box of chocolate and a bouquet of flowers similar to Lottie’s, just a bit bigger. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you so much. I love them. We have something for you too.” 

Lottie runs off into your room coming back with some boxes of candy for them as well. It’s obvious that Henry and Bucky weren’t expecting anything so it was nice to see their matching smiles.

“Here,” Bucky offers you a vase with water in it already. 

“Thanks baby.” 

You place the flowers in the vase and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“We should get going.”

“Yeah,” Henry adds. “We have reservations.” 

“Oh you do?” 

“Yup. It's for our date.” 

“I thought we were just going to Tony’s party?” You look up at Bucky who is already helping Lottie into her coat. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a proper date if we didn't take our girls out first now would it?” 

You smile and grab something from your purse. When you stand in front of Bucky you place a red pocket square into his suit pocket. As usual he dressed in an all black suit and a more casual black t-shirt. The red added a little pop of color to tie in everyone’s outfit together. 

“Here mama.” Henry, following Bucky’s lead, holds out your coat.

“Well what a little gentleman.” 

You put on your coat and let them lead you and Lottie out.

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

It was still new, the four of you going out as a family. The kids were always excited going out to new places and experiencing new things. Bucky stopped the car at the entrance to the restuarant. The attendant makes his way over quickly to the driver’s side. Bucky steps out and gets the door for Lottie who was sitting behind him. Henry quickly gets out of his seat and gets out to open your door. 

“Thank you my sweet boy.”

“You’re welcome, mama.” He says as he takes your hand. 

The four of you walk into the building. Before you can say anything Henry steps up to the hostess stand.

“Hi ma’am.”

“Hello, how may I help you?” The young woman asks with a smile.

“We have a reservation under Barnes.” 

You couldn’t help but beam as Henry started to get more comfortable interacting with strangers. 

“I see the reservation for four people here. Please follow me.” The young woman walks you through the restaurant to a booth in the back. “Enjoy your evening.”

Lottie sits with Bucky and you sit with Henry. While the restaurant is full of couples you wouldn’t trade being here with the kids. You knew you’d share more than enough one on one time with Bucky later. The four of you have the time of your life at the restaurant. The kids try new foods and get loved on by you and Bucky. They also have the attention of the server that’s taking care of your table. She makes sure to ask them questions, getting the most interesting questions out of Lottie for sure. You can’t help but look across to Bucky and share that magic little moment in which you both relish in being able to enjoy this moment with them. Soon enough though dinner is over and you head back to the tower. 

~~~~~~~~~

Before heading to the party Charlotte insists on going back to the apartment for her cupid getup. Soon enough there’s a four year old running into the main living room with wings and bow and arrow. Her first stop of course is her favorite person ever.

“Steebie am cupid.” She says as he picks her up. 

“And a very cute cupid at that.” 

“Hi.” Lottie calls out to Bruce’s assistant. 

“Hello Charlotte. You look very pretty in your dress.” 

“Tank you. You pwetty too, wight Steebie?” Steve goes beet red in an instant.

“Of course. Your dress is very pretty.” Steve looks at her.

“No Steebie.” Charlotte sends a small glare in his direction. Lottie says her name, “Is pwetty.”

“Please don’t.” She mutters.

“No is kay. Steebie?”

“Yes, you are very pretty.” 

She opens her mouth ready to sass him back but decides against it due to Lottie’s enthusiasm. 

“Thank you, Steve.” 

Lottie feels as if she’s done her job so she wiggles her way out of Steve’s arm’s and does her usual round through the party. 

****

Bucky holds you close as he leads you in a dance. One hand around your waist, the other holding yours against his chest. His cheek rests against your temple. Both of your eyes are closed as he hums along to the song. 

“Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose.

When you kiss me heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose.”

You smile as Bucky continues to serenade you. The song ends but another quickly starts up. Your dancing is interrupted though. 

“Daddy, mama is my valentine. I should be dancing with her.” Henry looks up at him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ok, ok. Do you happen to know where your sister is?” 

Henry points to the other end of the room. You and Bucky look over to find Charlotte sitting on the bar sharing a cupcake with Sam and laughing. 

“I guess I’ll go get my valentine. Thanks for the dance, Sugar.” Bucky gives you a quick kiss.

“Wanna dance mama?”

“I would love to.” You say as Henry takes your hands and swaying side to side.

****

“Is so yummy Sammy.” Lottie holds up a cupcake with red frosting up for Sam to try. 

Sam narrows his eyes in her direction causing Lottie to giggle. “Are you trying to play a joke on me?” 

“Noooooo. Habe some.”

“Ok.” Sam leans in to take a bite out of the sweet treat but Lottie boops him in the nose with it leaving frosting behind. She throws her head back laughing while Sam playfully grumbles. 

“Is so funny.” 

“Oh you think that's funny?” Sam asks and Lottie nods. “What if I do this?” He takes a big bite of the cupcake she had in her hand. “No cupcake for you.” 

Charlotte is a giggling mess as she grabs another treat from the tray Sam had taken just for them. 

“Are you trying to steal my doll?” Bucky asks as he walks up to them. 

“Maybe I am.” 

“Habe one dada?” Lottie holds up another cupcake for him. He’d seen what she did to Sam and was sure she’d do the same to him. But the laughter was worth a little bit of red frosting on his nose. 

“I would love one.” 

Lottie pulls at the cupcake liner with heart designs on them, then offers it up to Bucky. He’s surprised when Lottie doesn’t try to get the frosting on him so he just eats it.

“Hey,” Sam says with a faux annoyed expression. “Why didn’t you get him?” 

“Dada my vawentine.” She looks up at her dad with so much love that it makes him weak in the knees. 

“Yeah Sam, I’m her Valentine’s go get your own.” He looks back at his little girl. “Wanna dance, Doll?” 

“Yes, pwease.” 

Lottie gives Sam a kiss on the cheek before going into her father’s arms. Bucky walks over to the dance floor and begins to sway. Not too far from him, you stand with Henry in your own dance. You catch each other’s eye and smile. He mouths an I love you which you return. 

All in all it was a very good Valentine’s Day. 

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10 

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[dawnoftime22]

moments to never forget.

| T.S

Warnings: None!

Summary: It's your birthday, and Taylor has many plans up her sleeve. She gives you surprises one after another simply in one day, and it becomes the most special birthday you've had yet.

Word Count: 2.9k

Category: Fluff! All fluff!!

A/N: GUESSSS WHO'S BIRTHDAY IT IS??? MINE!!! happy birthday to me :DD so take this as a birthday special <33 I really really hope you'll love this because its one of my most fav fic I've written so far <3

| Started on 01/12/2023, 5:53 PM |

| Finished on 01/12/2023, 11:13 PM |

Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“Oh, all I'd ever do for you, and you only.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was a peaceful day. You were sat on the couch in the living room with Taylor, knowing today is your birthday, but you never really did much on it, except get a cake really.

"You know, I have something to show you." She says naturally, but with a mysterious tone in her voice. You piqued up slightly in her embrace at the sentence, curiosity taking over your features.

"What is it?" You ask as she moves to get you off of her and stand up, wanting you to follow with her from her hands tugging on yours.

"You'll see." Her voice was cheeky, her eyes following her smile. You get dragged over to the bedroom, making you all the more curious.

She sits you down on the bed before going off to the closet, where all her clothes are located. She opens it, and you gasp.

Your mouth was open at the set of cardigans in her wardrobe that you knew weren't there before. They were beautiful, and the side of the arms had little stitched in stars in them. You close your mouth as you took in the scene before you. Was this real or a dream? You didn't even know. You were about to ask her to pinch you.

They only weren't there before because Taylor had some of them stored in another house, and she didn't have a piece of each and every one yet, surprisingly, until her team sent her ones she didn't have yet, completing her collection.

"Which one do you want?" She asks softly, her hands waving over to them as a gesture of 'voila'. Her eyebrows raised with a smile on her lips.

"Tay, I love them all, I can't just choose one." Your shoulders slumped with your words, your mind thinking Taylor was asking you to choose only one that you could wear or add to your own wardrobe. Technically you could just steal hers, but that wasn't in your flow of thoughts with the shock, and how your mind was currently focused on her question.

"Well, you can have them all, darling, but right now which one do you wanna wear?" Her sentence comes out with a small giggle that vibrates within her ribs and echoes out to your ears, and you were about to melt into a pool of puddle on the wooden floor with all the love you had for her.

"You choose," you say quietly, not able to make a decision. She hums, half expecting you to have said that, perhaps. The blonde turns her head to look at the closet, her fingers brushing against the soft fabrics of the cardigans, and her eyes were extremely focused.

"How about this one?" Taylor reaches her hand out to one of the hangers, grabbing one of the seven cardigans from her collection. She chose simply on whichever she thought you'd love most, and she never fails in doing so.

You grab the hanger as she gives it to you, your eyes shining at the sight. You delicately take off the cardigan and put your arms in the arm holes, wearing it. It smoothly goes over your shoulders and went off to your other arm as you fully had it on you.

Taylor smiles, her eyes looking over the sight of you wearing something of hers. Well, she has before, considering you stole her hoodies and clothes, but this was especially different. Her own merch.

"You look lovely," she whispers, her voice endearing as ever. A slight red tint appears on your face, and she tries her hardest to get a clear picture of it in her head to store away and remember for years later to come.

"It's warm. It feels like whenever you hug me." You move your arms as if to hug yourself slightly, the comfortable fabric making itself feel like home upon you.

"Well, I'm warmer, but I'm glad it's comfortable." You giggle at her sentence, but she wasn't wrong. Although she is warmer, the cardigan fits you perfectly, and it's soft against the skin of your arms.

She closes the closet doors and walks over to you, putting her arms out to hug you and sit on your lap. She places her arms around your body that was layered in a shirt and the cardigan.

"Are you warm enough?" She asks playfully as she puts her cheek against your shoulder, looking up at you adorably, her blonde hair spilling over your shoulder. You swore you were gonna die happily right then and there.

"You're basically gonna make me melt from all the warmth." You're lucky the room was cold enough for it all to be cozy, and oh so perfect of a temperature.

She giggles, and then gets off of you, standing up and taking your hand into hers, tugging you to follow along.

"Where are we going now?" You ask curiously, your arm pushing you up and your legs straightening to a standing position to follow her. Your hands were intertwined with each other like a perfect puzzle piece.

"Someplace you'll love." She says, grabbing her keys out her pocket and going to the living room, making her way to the front door.

Once she opens the door, the sun was greeting high above the clouds somewhere, but it wasn't awfully sunny. She closes and turns the key into the door behind you. The sky shows a nice and gentle weather, no gray clouds.

The car beeped in the distance to your left, making you turn your head towards it. Taylor tilts her head while she walks to the car, as if to signal you that she was done making sure the house was all safe and locked.

You trail behind her, watching her get in the driver seat to turn on the engine. You thought she'd stay there and close the door, but she goes over to the passenger side and opens yours for you.

A dopey smile was on your face, her small gestures of love being everything to you. You went ahead and walked by her to go sit in the seat. She checks that you're fully in the vehicle before she closes the door.

When Taylor got in and clicked her seatbelt on along with you, she settles her hands on the steering wheel, driving off to the main road and start the journey to your destination, wherever that may be.

You got comfortable, unknowing whether it'll be a short one, or a long one. Before doing so, you turn on the radio and adjust the volume so it'll be good background music. You smile when you hear your favorite song playing.

Her eyes went to watch you every now and then, your head nodding along to the music and some lyrics coming out your mouth. She was so in love with you and everything about you.

When it went on to being half an hour in the car, you had settled down in your seat, watching the trees pass by and looking at the view outside. It seems you were going up a few mountains, and you couldn't wait to see what she had planned.

Taylor was smiling adorably as she drove. The sun was setting already, the two of you having left the house in the evening, and it left an iridescent line on her face, the rearview mirror reflecting the sun.

This was a precious day and a precious moment. You stare at her, admiring her for a second before pulling out your phone, your teeth catching your lip as you took a picture of her.

She notices you in the corner of her eyes, and her smile grew wider with a soft look. "I saw that," she says, knowing you loved to take pictures of her before she sees. But you didn't just take it for that reason.

"There's a rainbow on your face." You point out, and she looks into the mirror, her eyes brightening at the many colors of light visiting her cheek down to her neck. It was as if you were to travel upon a rainbow and find a stash of gold, to which, she practically is one. But she's more valuable and special than a simple pot of gold. Oh, so much more.

"I guess it's true how they say I have a bit of magic running through me." She focuses back on the road ahead of her, joking about the fans to you. You shake your head with a small laugh, but almost agreeing with her and the people who's talked about it. Far too many coincidences with the plane matching her lyrics, and mother nature following her with strikes of lightning.

Soon enough, you arrive, and it was a place somewhere on the side of the road, but there was a small path that could be seen at an angle. You follow Taylor's lead when she got out and locked the car, the wind breezing gently through your hair as you moved.

The sun had gone down by now, and the sky was dark, but the pathway had small lamps lighting up the way. You wondered if that was Taylor's doing, or perhaps they had already been there and this was a spot some people visit.

But it was her doing. She found this place a while ago, and no one else had taken it thus far. It was hers, and your spot now. The grass was green, and there were beautiful trees with leaves flowing and smoothly falling down here and there.

Taylor eventually stops walking, and you see a small picnic set up below an apple tree. She smiles your way, and your lips reflected hers. You couldn't have found anyone better.

She goes to sit down on the fabric, beside her a basket with some food. You sit down with her, shuffling to sit in between her legs with your back against her front.

It was a place where not much light pollution covered the place. You stare up at the night sky. It glimmered with stars, brightly glowing along with the gibbious moon high up the sky. You could see venus and saturn somewhere.

The sight shined off to your eyes, and hers stared down to them, admiring the speechless but happy look on your face. You were staring at the stars, she was staring at you.

You had your hands resting in your own lap, and she went off to the basket to grab a container that has a a slice of cheesecake. One that was delicious, and one from your favorite shop.

There was a small birthday candle, and the blonde gently places it atop the cake, lighting it up with a lighter.

She grabs a fork, opening the lid and handing the fork to you. You didn't see it until she waved it slightly, making you look down. A small gasp makes it way out your mouth when you realize what was on the picnic blanket just beside you.

"Tay, you didn't have to do all this." You say, your voice barely above a whisper from the surprise of how much she's been doing for you just in one day. And she planned all of it by herself. You look at her over your shoulder, your eyes full of emotions.

"But I wanted to. And you deserve every inch of it," she says, so very softly. Her free hand reaches up to caress your cheek with her thumb gently. She then lays a light kiss on your lips, her eyes holding only care and her embrace only holding safety.

Your lips turned upwards, and you gently take the fork from her hand, going off to grab the cheese cake container.

"Make a wish." She whispers gently. You stay quiet for a second, before blowing out the candle. Her face has a smile as she watches you.

"You're not gonna tell me what you wished for are you?" Taylor asks as you dig your fork into the cake, taking a small size before putting it in your mouth.

"Nope. It won't come true if I do." But in honest truth, the wish was her. To be with her forever and always.

The cake melted in your mouth. It was sweet, but not awfully sweet. Just the right amount, as it always had been. Taylor watches your movement from behind as she held you.

You then take another piece, but you didn't put it in your mouth. Instead, you lean back slightly and turn, putting the piece of cheese cake in the air, just near her mouth.

Her eyes flickered down to it, then back to your face. She opens her mouth and eats it, humming with the delicious taste filling her mouth.

She grabs another fork from the basket, wanting to share with you. You let her by putting the plastic container beside the both of you once more, turning back around to rest against her and stare up at the sky.

As the cheese cake was being finished, and the crickets made sound somewhere in the trees, she had thoughts floating in her mind, her eyes wandering over to you every now and then rather than the cake, or the sky.

"Okay, I have one last thing for you today." She spoke up softly, and you look at her, curiosity filling you as you wondered what else she could possibly have in store.

"What is it?" You ask, eager at this point from the sleepiness that might be coming onto you, and how she's been going at you with surprises left and right today. But it is a special day, after all.

"Can't tell you yet. Close your eyes first." She whispered near your ear as if to give off a mysterious tone.

"It better not be a snake like last time." You said as you closed your eyes and raised a brow. She had her mouth open in an act of getting offended even though you couldn't see.

"No! It's your birthday, silly. Of course I'm not gonna scare you." You can hear her smile in her voice, and some movement somewhere near you. She looks at you closely, making sure you had your eyes fully closed.

You then feel one of your arms being tugged up slightly to be put in the air at the same height as your chest, your palm facing upwards. A what felt like a box, with a soft exterior was then placed on your hand.

"Okay, you can open your eyes," she says, and the both of you were filled with anticipation. Hers, of your reaction, and you, of what you're gonna see when you open your eyes. When you did, it was a beautiful black box in your hand with a shiny metal latch.

"You better not have gotten me something far too expensive." Your eyes went off to hers, and she has a smile growing on her face once more.

"Just a reasonable price for something special," was all that she replied with, and you couldn't really say anything much to that, and so, your hand goes off to get the latch and open the lid, revealing a metal necklace that has a heart in the shape of how she draws it, and her initials on the sides of the heart. There are also small charms at the side of your favorite albums of her, not far off from the center of the necklace.

"Taylor. You did not." Your voice was in pure shock, knowing this was definitely custom-made. You had talked before about a necklace that should have certain charms that you would love to see together. But there wasn't one that really existed like that specifically, so you never thought of ever getting it. But she managed to get one specifically for you, and only one exists in the world.

"Yes, I did." She looked down at you, seeing how your hands very gently touched the chain and charms on it, loving that you were awestruck, and also absolutely in love with her.

"Happy birthday, baby." She kisses your cheek softly, hugging you and squeezing slightly from behind. Even a squirrel perhaps that isn't yet sleeping, is looking at the two of you from above a nearby tree, seeing the love you held dear.

"Thank you, Tay." You whisper, your free hand that wasn't holding the box going off to take her hand that was around your stomach in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as she did with your body earlier.

"Help me put it on?" You ask, looking at her. She was looking at you with a soft gaze, like a fawn looking at someone.

"Of course," she replies, taking ahold of the necklace with a gentle grip to not let it fall, and clasping it around your neck, checking it was on properly.

"You look gorgeous," she says, her voice filled with honesty. Her eyes were all focused on you and the necklace on your neck.

"Do you like it?" She asks as if with hope for you to love it, but she already knew the answer to come, she just wanted to hear it coming from your own mouth than her head.

"I love it!!" Taylor adored the pure joy on your face, every second with you making her love you even more somehow, if possible.

The rest of the night was spent with adoration and love, and you sleeping in the car on the ride back home, with her staring at you at some red lights.

It's a whole day of memories to remember, and you aren't ever gonna forget it.

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

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[dsknsk]

Limbus Company and its visual portrayal of female characters, an essay

Limbus Company, and by extent, Project Moon has been a great example of how female characters are visually portrayed. In this article, I’ll try to dissect why and how, focusing on Limbus Company as it has by far the largest amount of images I can talk about. Let’s dive in.

Disclaimer: I'm by no means a professional so please, PLEASE don't clown on this i.e mention the summer controversy. I have a personal trauma on that and do not wish to revisit it. I know it's practically impossible to ask from tumblr, but still.

Visually portraying a subject

Where to start? At the very beginning, of course. Portraying a subject visually (not talking about female characters in specific yet) has a number of things attached to it. Perhaps the first question one can ask themselves is this:

Where do I want the focus to be?

Now, you can be short and say ‘the subject, of course’, but even then, that won’t often be precise enough. Let’s say you have a butterfly as your subject. Do you want the focus to be on its beautiful wings? Or its curious multi-faceted eyes, or its roll-up tongue? What do you want the viewer to notice immediately? 

Arguably, even photos of landscapes have at least one point of focus. The pretty waterfall, the vast mountains, the green pastures or the starry sky. Some have the focus split up in two, where both the lake and the mountains are to be spotted immediately.

How focus can be created

There are multiple ways focus can be drawn to a specific part or to a specific subject. 

One way is to simply make everything but your point of focus uninteresting. A common effect used is the Bokeh, which blurs out the background so that it will automatically appear as less interesting and more as a faded bunch of colors that contrasts with the point of focus which is sharply shot in HD. You can also make the background to be a flat color, like black or white. Some pieces of art additionally add colored shapes or lines behind the subject as to accentuate it further.

(an example of Bokeh. In addition, the direction in which another character looks shows what our main subject is, who is actually positioned off-center.)

You can also just…fill the space with the subject, as in a close-up of the thing in question. Following the previous butterfly example, it’s like only showing a small part of its wings, enlarged to comparatively huge proportions. This is also seen in portraits and to a lesser extent, similar art like waist-ups.

The eye is immediately drawn to what we should look at, which is the character who’s front and center in the image. Secondarily the blood. Her hair also uses the next point below: color.

If you’re working with color, then color is an excellent way to bring the focus to a subject. Bright colors and contrasts can be used, like what’s done here:

The bright red forms a direct contrast to the green that dominates the color pallette. It thus leads the eye to the red areas - aka the blood the character is spilling as well as her face, which is technically a tint of red. The red returning in her eyes which have a small trail, and on her bloodied face, as well as the yellow of her tie, further help to bring focus to her face and her expression. (Other than that, this image also has classic cartoon speed lines, which are minor but do help).

Light is also something I should mention. Using the image from above, the character is actually rushing towards the darker areas of the image. The light is coming from where she seemed to come from, judging by the speed lines and the trail of red we just saw in all its glory. The light forms a line around the subject which keeps said subject’s green uniform from blending into the darkness and the green of the image.

There is a specific technique called chiaroscuro (lit. ‘light-dark’) which is totally a real thing that even old masters like Rembrandt have used to bring focus. The gist of it is that the painting has very bright areas which is the subject, surrounded by dark areas, with not much in between. This technique is often used to make scenes more dramatic, and to immediately show us what the artist wants us to see, without any possible doubt. It’s like putting a spotlight on your head in a dark room. Chiaroscuro is also seen in Limbus:

You can’t actually see much of the room our subject is in. The only light is coming from the candles, illuminating the top part of our subject. The other, darker half is much harder to see the details of. This makes it so that the eye is led from either the character towards the source of the light (the candles) or in reverse, both of which are possible and valid because in both cases, we ignore the pitch black part of the artwork.

How to create focus with characters (in specific)

Now, humans and humanoids are fascinating subjects to focus on, because there are so many situations a person can be in, and so much stuff a person can be. Are they the commander of a spaceship? A medieval ruler? An overworked office clerk? There are specific things that more or less pertain to humanoid characters more. I’m going into two aspects, clothing and posing - I’m aware there’s more, but for the sake of making this not longer than it is I’m going into only those two.

1. Clothing

What someone wears makes up a considerable part of how they’re seen and what they are presumed to be. This is also a large part of stereotyping. If you're wearing a t-shirt with pants, sunglasses, and have a camera around your neck, chances are people think you’re a tourist. To them, it likely won’t matter if you are, they will perceive you as one anyway. This is also important here: you might want to pretend you don’t know anything about the portrayed character or show their image to an unknowing friend and see what they think that the character is.

And that brings me to this point that I have seen so many times with female characters: their description/role not directly matching with how they are supposed to look if that were true. I’m talking about the battle-hardened veteran without muscles or scars of both kinds (even if adequate healing/scar removal is available in the setting). I’m talking about the scientist with a leotard under their lab coat. However, I’m not saying they should look a certain way or be the same - that’d be boring - I’m saying that…hey, it might make the viewer not take the character as serious as you want them to be.

The way clothing is built up can also serve as a way to bring focus to a specific aspect. Which will most often be either the boobs or the butt (or both) in the case of female characters. Look at this (non-Project Moon) example.

The woman in the front (obviously the focus due to the place she is standing in being squarely in the middle, and her red hair standing out) is the leader of that squad…as well as the strongest in battle. Without any protection of vital organs. With a shape under her boobs that would stab her fatally in the liver if she does as little as bend over.

The way her clothing is built up also brings the focus to her boobs - not only with how they’re prominently on display, but also with the shape the top and the fabric covering her shoulders makes. In a similar vein, her ‘pants’ and the belt all lead the eye downwards to her crotch as well. Furthermore, her thigh highs look skin-tight, bringing secondary focus to her legs, of course.

And last but not least. The guys behind her are actually properly armored from the neck down, making them somewhat more of a homogenous whole… in theory. The different body types, hair, and colors of the armor of the right and left dude make them stand out slightly more, which in turn only accentuates this ridiculous difference. 

I don’t really have many Project Moon-originating images on hand that are similar to this. Every time we’ve had an ID with a female character being the leader of their group (of which we’ve had surprisingly many, actually - Don has two Section Director IDs to boot) they have usually been posing alone, or well, posing…their full uptie art normally shows a moment when they’re beating their enemy into a pulp instead of posing for the camera like in the above image. This is really consistent with the other half of the playable characters, who are male.

I want to give a special mention to two characters despite that. Faust and Rodion are both known as the more well-endowed characters, but from their IDs and E.G.O it is treated as something that’s there rather than something to be exploited.

The blue glint is the highlight here, illuminating her blood-stained clothing but also finding its equal in her small, blue eyes. I have found eyes like this and expressions like this to be quite rare on female characters. Just look at her and her face. She’s completely lost it, wrapped in twisted and warped euphoria of the moment of ‘purging’ another ‘heretic’ - and from the looks of it, the last one on the scene. She’s not even trying to clean her own clothing or face, or expose her boobs. That’s not what matters to her image, showing any kind of skin doesn’t add to her character. She’s caught in this violent moment, having her victim completely in her literal grip - not even her eyes are looking at the camera. This image showcases the violent and sadistic nature of the character.

I find this art to be a curious thing. The background is actually rather bright, making the inverse true: the character is dressed in dark clothing, so that’s what the focus is on instead. Her coat flared out in such a way it can almost be mistaken for the underside of her long hair, making her seem even larger (something certain animals use when threatened to scare others into leaving). Her actual figure is thus more obscured, it only being a few tones darker. The thing that keeps her from being a dark blob in the foreground is her sword, large enough to be an odachi. Because she’s unsheathing it, the glint that comes from the blade immediately draws attention - arguably away from her partially unbuttoned top. The animation of this in the game supports this: no boob jiggle, just her standing calmly in the moment she’s just about to unsheathe her sword.

Because I’m going to use this example further in this thing, keep this one on hand.

An image that’s again in the middle of the action. Rosespanner Workshop Director Rodion is right now turning an enemy into an unrecognizable stain on the pavement with her huge weapon. The highlight is her weapon again, but this time it actually serves as a secondary source of light, illuminating her face. The yellow coloration of this secondary light source also makes the whole thing more interesting than if it just had the background light that serves a similar purpose as it did in the first image of this post. Even though the image has a heavy pinkish tint, the red that splatters all over the scene is still very much present and they draw the eye back to the yellow light. While her pose is ambiguous, it keeps things vague by not putting any sort of focus on her lower body. In any other piece of media this pose would be viewed from another angle, as to profit from as much of her body’s curves. Not here. Her killing an enemy with visible ease is important. Not her pose. This sounds logical, doesn’t it?

2. Posing

Which brings me to this. The way a character is posed also plays a part in their portrayal. It is possible to accentuate certain body parts with this - like when a character brings their hand to their chin, or the way their legs are posed. No matter the actual scene that’s meant, the way the character is posed is a factor that decides how it’s viewed and where the focus lies. Most often I’ve found this to be when a character is shown wielding a weapon, but their ‘battle pose’ being rather something that accentuates their bare skin, or their little clothing that does the same thing.

Is your character actually showing that they’re dangerous through being shown fighting…or are they just sexily posing with a weapon in their hands to add a sense of ‘danger’? Some can be highly difficult to distinguish. Some CGs can show the middle of the action yet the way the character is posed still brings the focus away from the violence or brings a secondary focus to it. Unfortunately I don’t have examples of those on hand but I know they exist.

A character just posing with a weapon isn’t wrong - I draw that all the time - but when the focus is brought to a character’s boobs and/or butt with the pose the character is in, it will be kind of obvious (even if it isn’t true) that sexualizing those features of the character what the artist is really intending to do instead of showing how dangerous she is with the weapon.

I’m going to use this image from Echocalypse as an example. I regularly take poses like this as a reference point and then attempt to make them more realistic, or, funnily, point out their weirdness by putting a male character in it. Often I do this by using them for a different, more appropriately clothed character. This goes to show that clothing can already decide a lot in posing itself.

This character is posing with a weapon, a…particularly huge odachi in this case (I thought it was a staff at first until I saw the hilt). Which is exactly the same what Rodion is doing up there in the image we already handled. Yet, there are subtle differences between that image and this one, and it’s actually more minor than you think it is (disregarding the thematics of the pieces). Both characters…

are posing with an odachi of similar size (assuming that both characters are of similar height for ease of comparison) as opposed to being locked in battle; theoretically making the focus more on how pretty they look

have long hair (that, minus the bun and the bangs, have a similar cut) that makes their silhouette appear larger than it is

do have a relatively bright and sort-of detailed background going on

have large boobs

are unsheathing their weapon just slightly

However, to get to our first difference, we need to get back to point 1: clothing. Using the same two images, the largest difference is clothing. Kurokumo Rodion is wearing all-black clothing that covers her from the head down except for the unbuttoned top. If I had to describe what the other girl is wearing, I’d say she’s wearing a piece of armor on one of her arms, a flowered collar, thigh highs but no footwear otherwise, and something…obviously lingerie/bikini derived. I’m actually not sure if that’s a tail or part of the clothing.

But to return to our point: posing. The pose of Kurokumo Rodion is actually fairly neutral. She’s just standing there, menacingly! (I should note that their normal character talksprites are also just standing there neutrally) No, literally. Anyone with working legs and arms, can reproduce that. Just give them a sword prop and you’re done. Coat cape optional. The way she is standing does convey some sort of subtle confidence, however, just like the way she is actually looking down (at the viewer). It’s likely you’ll see the sword first for the reasons I mentioned when first discussing the piece above and then look at her from top to bottom as usual.

The way our other girl is posed…is a little harder to replicate in real life to say the least. Not only is this a floating pose (i.e you’d need support), the way her body is bent sharply brings the focus upon her boobs and butt. The human body is actually rather flexible, depending on how you’re built of course, but even so I do doubt whether anyone can do this pose even if they could somehow float in mid-air. Or do this lying down. I (someone with joints that are a little too flexible for my own good) haven’t tried and highkey don’t want to. The thigh and upper leg that is prominently on display, along with the way her body curves leads the eye to her butt or downwards towards her legs and feet.

Her facial expression is neutral, but I get some sort of… ‘dreamy’ vibe from it from the traditional anime-like proportions (huge eyes, tiny nose and mouth). Almost as if she’s doing puppy-eyes to beg for candy or something. It’s, well, what most people call to be a ‘babyface’. Kurokumo Rodion is also in ‘anime-style’ and her facial proportions are still a little bit unrealistic, but I do dare to say they’re more realistic than those of the other girl.

Also, small sidepath. What do you think the second girl is based off? One would judge from her tail that it must be some sort of water creature but whether she’s a shark or any other kind of sea creature isn’t really obvious. Would it surprise you if I told you she’s based on a bake-kujira, a SKELETON-whale (which sounds cool as all hell)? Without any kind of skeleton-parts worked into her design? To be fair, I wouldn’t have guessed it either if it were not for her canonical description.

Also, one last note about that latter image. I think that an odachi of that format would be extremely tricky to unsheathe in such a pose, because of the distance between your arms. Her arm that actually unsheathes the thing is also obviously reaching out, so she’d need more strength to do that than what the look of her arms suggest.

Speaking about arms…

On paper, our Limbus girls would have all the reason to have twig arms. After all, the City allows one to get stronger without visually changing their physique much. One can carry around huge weapons like chainsaws, lances and zweihanders without visible muscles. And yet. And yet.

One of the few times bare arms are seen (most art prefers to cover them up - for Limbus standards, this would be the ultimate fanservice thing), it becomes very clear that they at least have a basic tone. Like, the basicest of basic efforts is done to make them not look malnourished. Even if this girl above is not like, the strongest of the world (for as far as we know...) the muscles she does have are very lovingly shaded and detailed. 

To end this, I’ll showcase something one last time with a funny in-game example: Roseate Desire. Roseate Desire is an E.G.O which wraps the wearer in pink ribbons and is highly implied to especially speak to the sin of Lust (which is the affinity of the attack). In the game, this E.G.O is given to two characters, a girl and a guy. In any other gacha game, it would only be given to girls.

While bent over and with a happy expression, she’s still coming to get you. How can you tell? For one, the huge anchor she has with her is within her hand (i.e opposed to it being tied up next to her or something like that), and the shield that’s tied to her arm. Despite being wrapped up, she does still look as if a portion of her is still in control, and her attack suggests the same. 

Hong Lu wearing it always makes me grin. He does wear clawed gloves and his fingers are arched, that’s true, but the way he’s strung up like a puppet makes it so that he can’t even get you with those. The manner in which he is posed and his head is tilted is highly reminiscent of how one would pose a marionette. And ingame properly he doesn’t even use these claws in close combat! He wraps up the enemy in the pink ribbons with doll-like movement. Even the way he’s covered evokes a sense of powerlessness, like he’s led on by the ribbons instead of controlling them.

I think this example, along with the others, is implicative of how Project Moon’s visual portrayal of female characters is done so well. They’re equally portrayed as the male characters, if not arguably more powerful, and there’s an equal roster of 6 to 6. They’re not overtly sexualized by bare skin or impossible poses while the men are covered up in a sensible pose. These are characters designed for their personality and role first, not with fanservice or money in mind first. Even the female NPCs fit within this rule, even though they have less art to go from. When you have a game which had 97% completion on the story and a mere 64% on the systems (i.e monetization) it would kind of figure that character designs fall in line with the role the character fulfills, is it not?

[tadpolesonalgae]

Feysand x f!reader: All Wrapped in One[*]

A/N: This started as feyre x reader but of course it would end up becoming a poly fic

Warnings: oral (f! Receiving), daemati shenanigans

Word Count: 2,173

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Her hands wrap around your middle, soft lips pressing a greeting kiss to the side of your neck.

The scent of warm spices fill the cozy space, wreaths of evergreen stitched through with sequinned pine cones and glittering red baubles, lines of sparkling tinsel and tinted, warm fae lights glowing about the ceiling’s edge. Mince pies that had been dropped off a day prior by your mate’s sister sit concealed beneath a glass dome, crystallised to look like frost at the base, to keep them fresh as the day they were baked.

“Morning,” she murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin, pressing a small trail of nips and licks gradually edging toward the neckline of one of her paint-flecked shirts. A thrill tingles down your spine, softening into her arms, quickly forgetting whatever task you had been preoccupying yourself with. “Morning,” you reply, tilting your head slightly to one side, allowing her more access to the pleasurable area.

“You’re up early,” you mumble, shifting to turn in her arms, wanting to see her in that soft sleepy state she’s often wrapped in during the initial hour of waking. She allows it, elegant hands remaining comfortably on your wait, keeping your chest flush to her own, adorned in a deep blue woollen piece, some tiny snowflakes stitched in beautiful silver thread with tiny beads at their centre to appear more festive.

Rosy lips pull into a smile, nose bumping your own, eyes warm with tender adoration. “The bed was cold,” she murmurs, “was wondering where you were.” Her hands pull you a little tighter, and you catch a hint of her scent, warmth fluttering between your thighs. You avert your eyes, hands settling on her shoulders, trying to distract her as a flush begins to rise across your skin. “We should wait until Rhys gets home,” you reason, back curving a little with need, the simple hint of her desire for you enough to have your body reacting with equal want.

She hums absently, eyes dipping to your mouth with interest, clearly not having heard you. Lightly calloused fingertips swipe experimentally across the plushness of your lower lip, eyes flicking to her blue-grey set that are slightly glazed. “Feyre…” you mumble, muffled from her playing with your mouth. “Did you hear me?” You ask, an embarrassed flush settling beneath your skin.

Her eyes clear, sparking with a wicked gleam that has your legs feeling like custard. The edges of her rosy lips quirk, and you feel yourself melting, heat liquefying between your thighs. “Rhys says it’s fine,” she murmurs over your mouth, hands sneaking down over the curve of your hind, cupping and squeezing with appreciation before dropping a little lower. “So long as he gets his share this evening and all tomorrow,” she finishes, smoothly lifting you up onto the counter, a flick of magic clearing the surface so she can perch you atop it, settling between your thighs. A soft sound of surprise spills from your mouth, fingers pressing into the plush wool over her shoulders as she gently pushes your thighs apart.

Of course, Rhys had decided to take a day off from his business as the High Lord, putting aside the work Feyre’s still in the process of learning how to do. Teeth push to the inside of your lip at the thought of having them both around for an entire day—and hopefully more since the festivities have already commenced.

Her mouth settles over yours eagerly, and a quiet moan escapes your chest, her hands now freely roaming across your body, dipping beneath the hem of the paint-splattered shirt. Goosebumps prickle your skin with sensitivity, keyed to her touch as she explores the soft curve of your stomach, slowly making her way higher. When she dips to your neck, you melt like a marshmallow in a hot mug of cocoa, dissolving beneath the tender touch of your mate.

“Feyre…” you moan softly, hands pawing at the thick wool keeping her concealed from you. “Shouldn’t we… We should go somewhere else for this,” you manage to get out between the pleasure of the hot kisses she’s splaying across your throat. She seems intent on taking you right there though, despite being atop a counter in the snugly lit kitchen. “Feyre…” you repeat, hands threading in her hair, legs spreading wider despite trying to pull her away.

“What’s wrong with here?” She asks, encouraging your legs to squeeze her tight, wanting to feel how much you want her. “It’s the kitchen,” you reason quietly, unable to quite look away from her heated blue-grey eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this in here.” Her gaze pins you with desire, keeping you still as she slowly pushes the hem of her shirt up over your thighs, practically tempting you to try denying her. You tighten around nothing at the actions, feeling how arousal has no doubt begun seeping through your underwear already.

“I think this is the perfect place,” she murmurs, leaning closer, rosy lips brushing your own teasingly, and you’re struck by the desire to have them playing with your breasts, skilful tongue flicking over the peaks of your nipples. “The kitchen is where food gets prepared isn’t it?” She asks lowly, fingers dipping into the band of your underthings, snapping it against your hip, pulling lightly on the string so it drags against your needy clit, lips parting on a silent breath. “And I’m going to spend the day getting you all nice and ready for us to enjoy tonight,” she drawls softly, pushing you back onto the counter, so your spine is laying flat against the cool marble.

It knocks any and all remaining fight from your body, content to let her use and explore to her pleasure. You swallow heavily as she smiles from between your legs, eyes glinting with heat as she slowly drags the cotton up over your stomach to reveal your soaking underwear. The smile widens with hunger, her fingers settling at the apex of your thighs before lightly trailing down, until she reaches the soft dip. Applies a slight pressure, watching as your back arches from the surface, hips shifting as you attempt to squirm lower, to have her fingers inside of you, pulling the sweet, sugar-dusted noises from your lips.

“Do you want me?” She asks teasingly, playing idly with the band of your underwear, dragging the tips of her fingers over your sensitive skin. “Feyre…” you groan, need building to the point of aches between your legs. You don’t know what you’ll do if she’s set her mind on edging you all day. If she decides to keep you from cumming until Rhys gets home… You had been the one to insist on trying to wait.

“Please,” you whine, pushing your legs wider in desperate invitation, nails biting into the softness of your palms. “Want you so badly, please.” Her lips part in a smile, hunger gleaming in blue-grey eyes, lowering between your legs as she takes the band of your underwear in her teeth, fingers hooking over the strings at your hips to help as she drags them down. Starving hunger intensifies in her gaze when she lays sights on your dripping wet heat, tongue swiping out to soothe the sudden dryness of her mouth.

A low curse rasps from her chest before she’s leaning forward, dragging her tongue up your centre, relishing in your taste, memorising the arch of your spine, how happily you put your legs over her shoulders, pressing the cotton-socked soles of your feet lightly against her back, raising your hips. Moans start spilling freely from your lips, enjoying the wet heat of her mouth once it’s sealed over your cunt, tongue swirling and suckling at your aching clit, giving you the attention you’ve been craving ever since she put her hands on you earlier.

A quiet laugh flutters from her lips, and you manage enough strength to push up onto your forearms, weakly peering down at her. “Rhys told you to open wider,” she drawls, and wild heat bursts across your skin. Look away shyly as you push your thighs to settle further apart on your mate’s shoulders, dipping your head at the thought of him watching through feyre’s eyes. What an intimate view he has.

Talons gently graze down your flimsy mental walls, and your back arches as Rhys slips inside your head, able to watch from whichever perspective he’d like.

You’re making concentration rather difficult over here.

A pleasurable shiver spider-walks up your spine at his deep, honeyed voice, roughened with arousal. Teeth push into your lip, desperate to have them both with you.

Feyre said you told it was fine… You send back softly—a little shakily, not entirely used to speaking like this. A low laugh drags through your sensitive shields, talons leisurely gazing inside your mind.

She told me she’d be having you on the kitchen countertop, and to get done with work if I wanted a taste before she tires you out.

Between your thighs, Feyre shoots you a grin, seemingly aware of the conversation going on, and a small moan flutters from your chest. Heat flushes your skin, but you make your reply anyway.

I can’t say I disagree with her…

Within your mind, you feel something shift, as if able to feel the build of his own arousal, awareness spearing directly to you to provide more stimulation.

I really have my hands full between the two of you.

I bet you do, High Lord, Feyre drawls, having joined without you noticing. Her tongue presses at your entrance, and you tighten eagerly, urging her for more.

Rhys groans lowly, and you feel your vision going in and out of focus as his arousal becomes more intense in your mind, the two of them curling together with you, making you dizzy with pleasure. An image appears in your mind, Feyre’s fingers slipping inside you in the same moment and you feel yourself reaching the curve of your high, where you’ll soar a little higher before making the pleasurable free-fall.

The High Lord does indeed have his hands full, one steadily holding the arm of his chair, the other stroking himself firmly, a pearly bead of precum nestled at his tip.

What you wouldn’t give to be on your knees before him—flick your tongue over the moisture there.

Your lips part, back arching as he takes a little of your control, moving your hand to graze across the softness of your stomach, hundreds of tiny muscles fluttering beneath the feather-light touch. His name moans from your lips as he makes you move higher, slipping beneath the hem of the shirt, reaching up to palm your breast, and you know he’s taking in every sensation.

Breaths turn shallow, wild heat bursting through your lower abdomen as Feyre’s fingers touch a spot inside of you, seemingly having been searching for it. Lips part in sheer pleasure as you reach that peak, tipping over the edge while she suckles at your sensitive clit, Rhys directing both your hands to palm your breasts, playing with your nipples as he floods your mind with filthy memories, filling you with touches, and scents, and tastes, utterly overwhelming as you babble.

Toes curl at her back, helping press her deeper to your heat as she continues working you within an inch of your life, fingers grazing those spots teasingly, mouth sealed over your heat so she can focus on your clit, easing you down from the high.

You pant heavily, needing to recover from the sheer intensity they’d put you through, muscles beginning to relax after being pulled taut with pleasure.

There you go. So good for us, aren’t you?

Your back arches at the rough drag of Rhys’ voice within your sensitive mind, tongue swiping over your lower lip. Blue-grey eyes latch on your own as she rises from between your legs, and your mouth has already opened by the time she lays her own atop it. Arousal mixes between you, one of her hands sliding beneath your shirt to graze across your nipple, playing with the sensitive peak.

Better get home soon Rhys, Feyre drawls across the bond, lifting herself up onto the counter in a single swift movement, and you hear him sigh with what you can only imagine is exasperation. A smile spreads across your features at the intimate sound, more than happy to shuffle further up the counter to give her space to move. Licking your lips eagerly as she crawls to settle her thighs either side your head, pulling her underwear to the side.

You two really are something, aren’t you?

As if to prove him right, you hook your arms over her hips, pulling her down onto your mouth while still feeling him in your mind, his arousal already building despite just having been relieved.

Hurry back, you send across softly, lapping at her entrance.

Then you can deal with us.

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

feysand taglist: @girlmadeofavocados @zara-aliza08

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Short Stories:

Awake

So I decided to make a second part to Wake Up due to all the asks. I combined a few of the asks into this little companion piece too! This is the last part so you guys can use your imagination to decide who she should choose. So leads enjoy!!

Kinda Angsty and there’s nothing adult in this. Just minor yandere behavior and the importance of knowing your self worth

Third part

Yandere Jack x Afab reader x Yandere Hanayama

………………………………………………………

What was it with television making that feeling of aha so dramatic? The sky didn’t cry for (your name) as she sobbed her heart out into her pillow. Jack wasn’t going to burst through the door like a shining knight to kiss away her worries and reassure her that he cared about her because he didn’t. At times she wished she could live in a fantasy world where everything was happy, happy, happy but alas, her world was nothing like that.

Jack only agreed to marry her because she bugged him about it. That it would be strange for a woman to travel with a man if they weren’t married. All of this was her own doing because she was so blinded by the love she had for him.

They were only married on paper. There was not a single moment of warmth between them other than the fond childhood memories she held close to her heart. She clung to his empty words of how she has been ‘his good luck charm.’ She truly didn’t feel lucky at all with how neglectful he was to her.

A part of her wished for her old Jack to return to her but she knew deep down, he was dead and gone. There was not an ounce of love or care in the man who would occasionally drop by their shared home. They were merely acquaintances who would say hi to each other every once and awhile.

They’ve never even been intimate before so she couldn’t delude herself into thinking he might have some form of care for her. Jack only did this at her insistence, not out of love but out of obligation. They were childhood friends and nothing more.

(Your name) felt herself grow exhausted as the hours dragged on. She was sure she looked a mess with tear stained cheeks and swollen eyes. It’s not like it mattered. Nothing mattered right now other than succumbing to her desire to sleep.

There was no point in letting herself cry over spilled milk. As much as she wanted to rot in bed and tell the world her woes, it wouldn’t change anything. The reality of Jack not loving her back wouldn’t change and the rose tinted glasses she put over her own eyes was too shattered to create that illusion again.

Tomorrow would be a new day. Tomorrow she would stop. She would stop the one sided conversations with herself and she’d stop going to every tournament and fight.

It was time to put herself first. She needed to love herself again while she reevaluated her marriage. (Your name) knew if she didn’t, she’d fall apart and there wouldn’t be anything that could glue the broken pieces together again.

.

.

.

(Your name) frowned at her reflection. She looked like someone hit her with a car, backed up, and then hit her again. Perhaps a little self care would help?

(Your name) shuffled through the contents of her drawers until she pulled out a face brightening mask. She needed a little brightness in her life that wasn’t the screen of her phone staring back at her as she watched three little dots flicker every once and awhile. She was not going to be putting anymore one sided effort into this tumultuous marriage… it was a dumpster fire she no longer had any interest in salvaging.

(Your name) pressed a kiss to her reflection. A few positive affirmations spilling from her lips.

“You are beautiful. You deserve love. You deserve…” she smiled warmly at her reflection. “Better.”

.

.

.

A few days had gone by and she finally felt a bit more at peace. Her reflection no longer looked as ragged and she was smiling a bit more.

“You are beautiful. You are worthy of love.” She whispered the affirmations to herself with a smile. This was a small step but it was helping her with her confidence. “Fake it till you make it.”

Today she was going to go out into the city and take herself on a date. She felt like she deserved one… one where she was the priority for once.

(Your name) slowly began to paint her face with a smooth foundation with a giggle. She could not remember the last time she’s dolled herself up like this for herself. She needed to be more independent and more confident in herself.

Maybe she’d treat herself to the new cafe down the corner? The place looked like it had some decent caffeinated beverages and some cutesy treats. Maybe she’d get herself some flowers too?

.

.

.

A bouquet of sunflowers and honeysuckle sat on the dining room table as (your name) enjoyed a meal she had made for herself. It’s been about two weeks since she started to put herself first. (And two weeks of her still rejecting Kaoru).

There wasn’t a single message or call from Jack so her recent misadventures must not have any effect on him. This only proved to her how little she truly meant to him…

(Your name) glanced over at the pictures that lined the TV stand and the few on the walls. It was time to close this chapter in her life.

(Your name) rose up from her chair to take down the memories that no longer made her heart flutter. Her fingers gently tracing over the old face of Jack. There was no longer a flutter in her chest when she stared at his hardened expression. The butterflies were dead in her stomach and now she felt… nothing.

She took her time removing each picture before putting them in a cardboard box in the corner of the room. She’d take them out to the dumpster tomorrow first thing.

(Your name) walked over to her purse and pulled out an envelope. She gave a sad smile to the envelope in her hands before setting them by the bouquet of flowers.

Inside the envelope were signed divorce papers. All Jack had to do was sign his name on the dotted lines and they’d no longer have to be around each other… no longer would he be trapped by her. Jack would be able to do whatever he wanted without a bird that chirped constantly on his shoulder.

“Happy birthday to me…” She whispered softly to herself, her fingers slipping off the simple gold band off her ring finger. “And thank you for everything.”

She’d start looking for apartments tomorrow, for now, she’d spend her nights in the room with her heated blanket. The blanket no longer a replacement for Jack, but a feeling of security.

.

.

.

Kaoru felt his breath hitch when he saw (your name) alone at a cafe from his limousine. It’s been the same routine for him for the last two weeks. His dark eyes studied how happy she looked… why was she in such a chipper mood today?

He recently noticed a change in her. One where she wasn’t as cold towards him but also still politely rejected his numerous advances. Kaoru also had seen the wedding pictures of her and Jack were removed from the TV stand yesterday. The few pictures that hung up on her living room walls were also gone from what he could see from the doorway… there was trouble in paradise… and Kaoru knew this was his chance.

Kaoru took in a deep breath before he turned to Kizaki, “I’m going to head out, Kizaki. Can you pick me up in an hour?”

Kizaki sighed from the drivers seat but nodded his head. “Of course boss.”

Kaoru exited the vehicle, his eyes didn’t leave (your name)’s form for even a second. Kaoru wasn’t going to waste this opportunity presented to him.

He would not be deterred from her rejection. Kaoru wanted her and he would have her. No matter what.

.

.

.

(Your name) hid her smile in her mug when a large shadow looked over her. It seems Kaoru had found her.

She turned her head to glance over at the large Yakuza.

“Hello.” She greeted him simply. “And what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence?”

Kaoru just cracked a small smile at her, the yakuza gesturing to the chair in front of her. “May I sit?”

“You’re asking me like I have a choice? That’s funny.” (Your name) looked Kaoru up and down. “Take a seat.”

Kaoru chuckled and sat in front of her, the scarred man admiring her beauty. “You’re even prettier up close…”

“Always with the flatteries.” (Your name) chuckled as she took a sip of her hot beverage. “So what can I do for you? Or are you simply a moth drawn to my flame?”

Kaoru smirked, an itch stirring in his loins. She’s been a bit feisty as of late and he loved it. He liked that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind to him. He found it even more attractive.

“So what if I am drawn to your flame?” Kaoru huskily whispered, his eyes wide when he saw the ring was no longer on her finger. That simple band of metal was gone…

(Your name)’s noticed Kaoru’s focus on her hand, the woman smiled at him. “You have quite an observant eye. I filed for divorce.”

Kaoru could hear the sadness in her laugh when she chuckled, his heart ached for her. The yakuza hesitantly taking her hand in his to give it a firm squeeze.

(Your name) gave him a soft smile. “So soon I will be a single woman. Hopefully that doesn’t make the chase boring to you.”

Kaoru’s heart thumped on his chest, a fire ignited in his soul. “No… no it doesn’t.”

(Your name) and Kaoru sat at the table, completely lost in their own world together. Neither one looked away from the other. This was the start of a new chapter… she just hoped she wouldn’t regret this decision.

.

.

.

Jack finally made his way into the home, the blonde grumbled when he smacked his head on the door. He was a lot taller since the last time he’s been here, but hopefully (your name) wouldn’t mind too much.

It’s been strange lately. She hasn’t come to any of his fights nor has she texted him. So he decided to hurry it up and come home to check on her.

Jack slowly made his way into the living room, his eyes narrowed when he noticed the wedding pictures weren’t up. Why were they taken down?

Jack made his way into their room, the room now bare save for the few items of his he left behind a few months ago when he was last here.

“(Your name)?” Jack’s voice quietly rung out throughout the house. But there was no response… why was it so quiet?

Jack began to open all the doors but there was no sign of her. Where was she? She always replied right away to him?

“(Your name)?” Jack went into the kitchen, his eyes wide at the wilted sunflowers and honey suckles on the dining room table. A big white envelope in front of it… but what caught his eye the most was the small gold ring that sat on top of it.

Jack snatched up the ring in shock. (Your name) never took off her ring… never. Had something horrible happened to her? Was she okay?

Jack tore open the envelope, his hands trembled at the contents inside… (your name) wanted a divorce… a divorce?

Jack took a seat at the table, the reality setting in. (Your name) had finally given up on him. She left him… but she had promised to never leave him even though he was difficult.

Jack reached for his phone and dialed her number. The dial tone only built up more distress in him as he waited for her to pick up.

“Hello? This is (Your name).” The giggle on the other end of the line gave him a moment of relief..

“(Your name)? Where are you-“

“I’m not able to reach the phone right now so please leave me a message. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Bye bye.” The relief was gone just like she was. Jack could only tremble as he sat at the table.

The blonde rose up from the table. His hands repeatedly dialing her number again. He wouldn’t give up. Jack made his way to the box full of pictures. His fingers fondly traced over her smiling face.

Each call went straight to voicemail now rather than the cute dial tone. Had she blocked him? Why would she do that….

Was there someone else now? Is that why she left?

Jack sighed, he was going to have to find her… and this time. He wouldn’t give her so much freedom.

He thought if he kept her at a distance, it’d keep her safe but he was a fool. The safest place for her was beside him.

[fanaticsnail]

Blade Song

Another part of the Dance Series. Thank you to a beautiful anon who reached out to give me some thoughts and prompts to utilize to bring this piece together. Masterlist here. Also, thank you @sordidmusings for being an absolute legend and helping me with the tunes.

Word Count: 5,065

(First time writing for Zoro!)

The warm embers of an open fire glowed a vibrant shade of red against the sandy shore of the beach. The sun had only just started to become eclipsed by the vast coastline of the ocean, prompting the last rays to tint the air pink as its last farewell. Sounds of singular plucked guitar strings harmonised by the crackle of dried wood in the fire, many among the large troop had risen to their feet to sway their bodies in time to the rhythm; all the Straw-Hat pirates amongst the crowd.

Well, apart from one member.

Zoro lay reclined on his back, his arms cradling the back of his neck as he gazed at the purple hue of tinted clouds beginning to depart in favour of gentle starlight. Peaking out of the corner of his eye, he views Nami spinning amongst the dancers, linking arms with Luffy before laughing and plonking to the ground; becoming exhausted from the vigorous movements.

Shifting downwards onto your knees beside him, you release a gentle cough to alert him of your presence. He shifts his gaze up to meet your position, a wide smile welcoming you as you raise a large bottle of beer to indicate for him to take it from within your hands. You slid your hand to the bottom of the beer bottle to make it easier for him to take it from you without needlessly touching him.

“For me?” he asks, propping himself up onto his elbow, still partially reclining against the sand.

“Of course,” you smirked and nod your head to him, waving the bottle in front of him. He chuckles and grasps the neck of the bottle, nodding in thanks as he gently takes it from you and immediately swigs from it.

You giggle a little, turning your attention back to your troop dancing amongst the crowd; Sanji leaning down to Nami in a polite bow with his right hand extended to ask her to dance. She politely shakes her head to decline, prompting the blonde chef to seem slightly disappointed by the outcome.

“Oh, poor Sanji,” you raise your eyebrows upwards and fall your lips into a tight, thin line; tsking your lips in pity. Zoro looks up at your face, furrowing his brows before turning to look at the chef.

“Why ‘poor Sanji’?” he asked you, taking another swig from the bottle.

“Oh,” you gasped in surprise, not realising your pittance was released from your lips, “its just; he’s a really good dancer and finally has the opportunity to show off his skills and Nami just rejected him,” you shrug.

You turn your sights back to look at Sanji who appeared to be sulking a little more, going back to the food vendor and asking for a drink to drown his partial sorrow. Zoro furrowed his brows deeper in thought, looking between both you and the chef.

“You’ve danced with him, then?” Zoro asked you nonchalantly, again raising the neck of the glass beer bottle to his lips. You brought your attention back to the swordsman at your side, scrunching up your nose playfully at him.

“He’s actually yet to ask me,” you smiled at him, “but I’ve seen him dancing with a few of the women here, and he’s superb.”

Zoro grunted a little at your reply, his voice gruff as he drained the last of the contents of the amber liquid within the bottle. He sighed in contentment as the alcohol hit his stomach, enjoying the slight buzz it brought to him.

“Do you dance, Zoro?” you asked him curiously, arching up your eyebrow to him.

“No,” he replied immediately, without a semblance of hesitation from within. You giggled at his hasty reply, urging your body closer to his position on the sand.

“Not even for me?” you pouted playfully.

“Not even for you,” he nodded without looking at you, exhorting a crease in your brows in response.

“Oh,” you replied, shifting your body back away from the close proximity to the swordsmen.

Zoro was one of the Straw-Hats you found it the most difficult to build rapport with; his gruff exterior intimidating for the cheery and jovial attitude you brought to the crew. Luffy immediately took a shine to you, bouncing off each other’s perpetual warmness to spark joy throughout the crew. Nami began her relationship with you slightly more standoffish, but her exterior cracking the more you hyped her up with subtle jabs and challenges. Your favourite of the challenges you had put to her included: placing a wager on whether she could literally steal the pants off a marine without them noticing, which she absolutely could; a sight to see for the Straw-Hat crew to enjoy together.

Usopp enjoyed confiding in you with his insecurities, prompting a more mentor-mentee relationship to develop between the two of you as you navigated throughout his fears and worries in your travels. Sanji was different. He flirted hard with both Nami and you, as the only women on board. Nami would absolutely not entertain his flirtations in the slightest, whereas you would always reflect the flirtation back onto him; causing a red hue to rise upon his cheeks in response. Everything was always playful with him, never taken further than a brush of a lip upon your knuckles, or a warm rub of the shoulders to comfort your crewman.

That was your role: ships chief negotiator and guidance councillor, building rapport and comradery through playfulness and joy. Zoro was yet to crack under your cheery disposition, which prompted you to seek him out this evening; praying he would finally warm to you. Truthfully, you had begun to develop feelings of great fondness for the swordsman. The way he protected the ship as a loyal knight would to defend the honour of the crown drew you to him immediately.

Zoro sighed, placing down the bottle and fully rising to a seated position as he continued to face away from you. You turned your gaze away from him and looked off to the side, bringing your hands to rest on your bare upper arms to bring warmth back to your skin. The departure of the sun’s rays always brought a chill to your body, the sea breeze carrying the cold and pricking to raise your hair follicles in response to it.

“I, uh-,” you began, turning back to look at Zoro’s face once again, “-I’ll just go then. Sorry to disturb your night, swordsman.” He turned back his face towards you, the subtle orange glow from the fire highlighting his features. You nodded with a smile, rose to your feet and turned to bring yourself back to the merriment of dancers on the beachfront.

Zoro’s eyes trailed you as you extended your hand to one of the men among the beach goers, effortlessly swooping to the sandy dunes and maneuvering your body to sway with them to the beat. You were all smiles and all touches; drawing your hands to the necks, shoulders, forearms, waists and hands of those who you danced with. Zoro watched as the men would effortlessly spin you, grasping their hands and bodies to hold you closer to them and sway to the beat.

Nami approached Zoro, sitting herself down on a tall log next to him as they watched you entwine yourself now within the arms of your captain; his cheery laughter prompting you to radiate the warmth within yourself and join with his joy.

“Not dancing, swordsman?” Nami asked him, quirking her chin to the side to acknowledge him. Zoro grunted in response, continuing to watch as Luffy spun you in his arms, capturing you within his supernatural arm extension to constrict around your waist.

Nami kicked her right foot against Zoro’s left thigh, prompting the green-haired swordsman to frown up at her position next to him.

“You know she likes you, right?” she asked him, narrowing her eyes and smirking down at his sat position. He shook his head slightly, looking back to the captain and the councillor as they swayed their bodies close together to the beat.

“What are you talking about?” he murmured with a growl-like undertone. Nami rolled her eyes at the swordsman and angled her chin upwards at the interaction occurring between the two Straw-Hats engaging in a variety of twirls and sways to the music together.

“The ship’s councillor, Mr Oblivious,” she teased him, prompting his scowl to deepen, “surely you’ve noticed by now.”

Zoro shook his head at her, prompting Nami to roll her eyes with a long groan and maneuver herself to sit on the sand next to him; off the log she sat on prior.

“The way she is with you,” she commented, gesturing to you as you spun Luffy within your arms and trailed your hands to land on his waist, “the way she restrains herself with you.”

“Restrains herself?” Zoro asked, sitting upright and paying closer attention to the dance between you and Luffy, “what do you mean?”

Nami groans and sits closer to Zoro, nudging him with her shoulder, “watch them. Pay attention to her.”

Zoro rolled his eyes and began to narrow his gaze onto the way you were dancing with Luffy; all hands, swings and grazes: touches. Zoro’s eyes widened slightly as you laced your arms around the captain’s neck as he placed his arms around your waist, hoisting you into the air in a spin before you both collapsed onto the sand below; all smiles and laughter.

The swordsman shrugged his shoulders and continued to watch the interaction between you and Luffy; you placing your left hand on his right shoulder, he bringing his left hand over his front to clasp it around the back of your hand; both heads tilted back in laughter.

“Her hands?” Zoro asked, his monotonous tone raised in question.

“Yes,” Nami confirmed with a nod, “her hands, Zoro.”

Zoro shook his head, not quite understanding what the navigator was attempting to tell him.

“Look, Zoro. You are as clueless in navigating romance as you are in navigating a ship,” Nami groaned, placing her hand on Zoro’s left forearm, “she loves physically. She finds comfort in touch.”

“So?” Zoro asked, shaking his head, “what’s that got to do with me?”

“So,” Nami says slowly, rolling her head to lull back at the sky, “she doesn’t touch you, does she?”

Zoro furrows his brows in thought, shrugging off Nami’s grasp on his shoulder before trailing his eyes to zero-in on the Straw-Hat crew still dancing together. He recalls the way you have approached him so far; always with a small gift to present to him: a beer, a plate of food, a tool he required for maintaining his swords. You would sit close enough to him to be actively in his presence, but without making any physical contact with him. Praising his swordsmanship as he practices movements and motions above deck, you would watch him while notarising specific items you would need for the next upcoming adventure. All his thoughts falling back to you expressing your comradery with him in every way apart from physical.

He watched as Sanji returned from the vendor, an empty beer bottle clasped in his firm grip. He watched as Sanji placed the beer bottle on the sand next to him and extended his right hand out towards you as an invitation to dance while simultaneously hoisting you to your feet from your position on the floor. Zoro’s eyes widened before narrowing as you accepted the chef’s invitation with a wide smile and allowed yourself to be thrust flush against his body; legs lacing themselves together to join at the hips, swaying and tastefully gyrating to the rhythmic guitar.

The chef spun you in his arms, turning you to face away from him while circling both his and your arms around himself and continuing the sway. You both would take small steps to the left and right before Sanji effortlessly spun you twice to face against you once again. Zoro ignored the way his chest began to feel heavy under the weight of him viewing you both dance together, his breath hitching as Sanji’s hands wove themselves against your hips with a warm blush creeping up the chef’s face. Zoro couldn’t tear his eyes away from the movement of you reaching your hands up in the air and raking your fingertips against your forearm as you allowed Sanji to manipulate your body as an instrument of artistry.

“You’re an idiot,” Nami sighed, Zoro tearing his eyes away from the dance between you to scowl again at her.

“What are you talking about, Navigator?” he growled under his breath.

Nami smirked, turning her gaze to the captain as he waved her over towards him with a beckoning gesture. She placed her right hand on the dunes below, springing herself to her feet in a swift motion. Reaching an arm out towards the swordsman and grasping his left wrist, she pulled him to his feet and stepped into his intimidating proximity to utter in a low tone, “the sooner you realise you like her back, the easier it’s going to be for everyone.”

The navigator smirked, turning away from the standing swordsman to bring herself into the outstretched hands of her captain, laughing as he spun her into a dance again.

Zoro was left perplexed, not really certain what he should do with the nonsense spurted from the navigator. He found himself stalking the perimeter of the dancers slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the chef and the councillor as they continued to embrace one another.

He hadn’t given much thought to romantic encounters of late, training his body through strength and agility to become the world’s greatest swordsman to finally beat the title away from Dracule Mihawk. Seeing the way you swayed with the chef, now arching your back up into his torso and falling your hands slowly to find the back of the blonde’s neck with small shifts in your hips, he couldn’t help but picture you performing those movements with him.

You were always so careful with him; so cautious to not cause him any discomfort as he slept, ate or trained. The way you so cautiously and playfully asked him to dance, only for him to immediately shoot you down weighed heavy on his heart now, the pit growing stronger the longer you remained in the blonde’s arms.

Zoro found his teeth clenching as he watched Sanji lean his head against your neck, his lips almost meeting your clavicle as he raked his arms over your back and held you in a tight embrace, flush against his body as he spun and dipped you. You arched your back further, keeping the chef’s body against you as you leaned into him. The swordsman never felt the desire to study how to dance rise within him. He was now regretting never learning how at this very moment.

The tempo of the guitar began to slow, bringing the dance to a close. You and Sanji broke away from each other, laughing and applauding the musicians in appreciation of their craft. Zoro’s eyes beamed on the chef reaching his right hand out in search of your own, bringing your knuckles up to brush against his lips with a gentle caress. A melodical giggle presented itself through your lips, a coy smile drawn to your features as a small pink blush spread across your nose and cheeks.

Zoro needed to hit something; something that doesn’t matter to the performance and smooth sailing of his ship or crew. A growl released itself from his lips as he briskly began his descent towards the ocean shore, away from the view of the gathering of individuals dancing together around the fire.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you laughed as he released your hand from his grasp.

“Any time, love,” the chef replied, his yes falling on the ship’s navigator as she cheered for the musicians gleefully. You trailed your sites to follow his, looking at your orange-haired crewman.

“You going to try Nami again?” you quirked your head up at him, his eyes falling back to you in response to your question.

“After the bitter taste of rejection the first time?” he smirked with a light chuckle, “not in the slightest.” You scoffed at him, turning to view the crowd again; searching to locate your green-haired crewmate.

“He went down to the shore,” Sanji spoke beside you, a knowing smile drawing to his lips, “just in case you want to face your own rejection a second time.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly tapped Sanji’s shoulder to reprimand him, “I’ll tell you what, chef-.” His gaze softened in your addressal, nodding for you to continue on; “I’ll go get the swordsman and face my rejection, if you go to our navigator and face your own. Deal?”

You held out your right hand as indication for him to shake it. He clasped your hand within his own in a the perfect balance of a gentle but firm grip, uttering; “deal.”

As your pact was sealed, you turned from your blonde chef and walked down the dunes towards the shoreline as Sanji shook the hair away from his eyes and huffed out any inhibitions preventing him from approaching the navigator with an offer to dance.

Returning back to the log with your equipment laying against, you reequipped your cutlass and in its scabbard around your waist as you began your trek towards the foam of the ocean as it waded against the shore.

You brought your hand up to your brow as you narrowed your eyes in search for your green-haired, ear-pierced swordsman; falling your sights onto his as he effortlessly maneuvered himself while wielding three swords in a flowing movement. Your gaze softened as you watched him spin slowly with the blades, brandishing them with complete control and fluidity.

Gasping, you could almost see his movements slow in motion; focussing on his firm grip on the blades as his eyes bore down in complete concentration and control. You zeroed in on the flex of his forearms as he brandished his swords outwards, sweeping them throughout the air and halting them outwards, facing their tips to the sky.

Sitting yourself down on the dunes, you placed an elbow against your knee and cradled your face in your palm; watching the swordsman as he continued to flourish his skills with his blades outwards and inwards; the wave’s gentle crashing against the beach the soundtrack to his movements.

Time seemed to stop and slow as you watched him brandish his blades, spinning and turning with the perfect combination of control and ferocity. You couldn’t get enough of him, tilting your head and taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you unabashedly gawked at him.

“Don’t think I don’t see you there, Councillor,” Zoro called to you, his voice slightly muffled by the blade clutched between his teeth. You jolted your body back, unclenching your teeth from your lip as you looked down in shame.

“Apologies, Swordsman,” you spoke in a low tone, forlorn as you began to rise to your feet to turn back away from him. He took his third sword away from his lips and sheathed it at his side along with the other two in their scabbards.

“I didn’t say I minded your gaze,” he confessed with a smirk, trailing behind you in his approach.

You halted your retreat, turning back to face him once more with a furrow in your brows and a quirk in your jaw. His smirk softened a little as his eyes met with your own. You shook your head as you stepped closer to him, still remaining out of his reach and general proximity.

“I can’t get a read on you, Zoro,” you admitted with a small nod, “you either hate me more than anyone else among the crew or you’re completely indifferent towards me as one would be a complete stranger.”

Zoro took a step towards you once more, stalking forward and bringing his body fully into the sphere of your personal space. You chose to not budge or maneuver your body away from his, tilting your head to bring it upwards and quirking it to the side.

“Fight me,” he uttered, his eyes half lidded as he spoke in a low tone.

“What?” you furrowed your brows in question, shaking your head a little while floating your eyes between his two brown orbs through your eyelashes.

“Fight with me, I should say,” he smirked as he reached his left hand forward, initiating first contact between you as he clutched your right hand in his firm grip.

“Zoro-,” you began, trailing your gaze away from his eyes and looking at his hand placed against your wrist. He took a closer step into you, bringing his right hand up to clasp your wrist; dragging his left hand to lace themselves within your fingers.

“-I won’t dance,” he uttered in a low, monotonous tone; trailing his eyes to your fingers as he smoothed over your wrist, “but I can fight.”

He stooped his head downwards, his eyes closing at the proximity while smoothing over your skin with his thumb, rotating in gentle circles.

“If this be the only way I can draw you close to me,” you whispered lovingly up into his face, “I will gladly cross blades with you.”

A small smile draws itself to the side of Zoro’s lips as he reopens his eyes, seeking your own eyes to hold his attention and affection.

“Draw your cutlass, Councillor,” he murmured lowly, leading you down to the coastal shore by your hand to place your shoeless feet on firmer flat sand. He reluctantly released you from his grasp, turning away from you to retract his blades from their scabbards.

“I am no match for your skill, Swordsman,” you uttered while retracting your blade from its place against your hip and raising it, “but I will do my best to keep up with you in our dance.”

He quirked his head to the side with a smirk on his features, placing his third sword between his teeth once more. You drew your sword up to your face and held your non-dominant hand out to the side to ready yourself for his relentless attack.

Charging at you, his arms drawn back; you side-stepped him as he thrust his right sword at you. Continuing to avoid and evade his attacks, you circled to reach behind him to strike. He leapt within the air and spun his legs outwards to retreat from your advance.

Circling back around and side stepping your attacks, he brought his torso closer to you; the large gash from his dual with Mihawk pulling your attention to his chest. He followed your gaze, halting his next movement as you stopped your own.

He stepped closer to you, parting his lips to drop the white blade from his teeth and fall it to his open and awaiting hand. You flit your eyes up to search his as he spun and nudged his legs toward you, his swords now all clasped in his hands. You widened your eyes in shock as he began to sweep his blades at your feet, prompting you to flee from his advance towards the ocean away from him.

You jumped a little as your toes were met with the cool salted water, prompting you to lose your concentration slightly at the shock. You felt the blunt end of a blade snap itself against your dominant hand as a small reprimand at your action, bringing your sights away from the waves and back to the swordsman in front of you. He continued to trail you in a circle, lowering his body towards the ground as a predator would stalk its prey.

“See,” you said, flicking your sword down at your feet while circling your body away from the water, “I’m absolutely no match for you with blades.”

Stopping his relentless pursuit, he drew his body closer to you and swept his three blades off to the side.

“And I am no dancer,” he smirked before falling the small twinge of a smile from his lips.

You shook your head at him, a small smile pulling at your lips at the interaction. You continued to hold the distance between the pierced swordsman and yourself, raising the tip of your blade at him to halt his advance. He trailed his gaze, holding firm to your every movement in preparation for an oncoming attack.

“You can topple marine bases, slay enemy pirates, collect high bounties with ease,” you taunted him, narrowing your eyes as you gestured to his body with the tip of your steel, “but you cannot handle partnering a woman in dance?”

He growled in response, his eyes narrowing at your taunt; “if you want to be swept off your feet with crude gyrating and twirls, go back to the blonde chef you like so much.”

You dropped your smirk, widening your eyes at his comment and flourished your blade off to the side in a sweeping motion.

“Is that what you would like, Zoro?” you asked him, reducing your voice to little above a whisper, “to have me thrust into the arms of another?”

Zoro’s jaw tightened behind his lips, his teeth clenched firmly at the accusation. He offered no verbal response, prompting your brows to twinge a little in sorrow. You shook your head and flourished your cutlass, placing it back into your scabbard in a swift movement.

“So be it,” you said with a curt nod, bowing in a deep curtsey to the swordsman, “thank you for the invitation to cross my steel with yours, but I fear our little spar draws to an abrupt close.”

“We’re not done yet,” he uttered darkly, approaching you in a slow prowl.

You rose from your curtsey, a small smile pulling at your lips as your eyes met once more; “I will go and seek out someone else to join in crude gyrating to the music performed at the fire side-.”

Your words caught in your throat as the swordsman retracted his blades within his scabbards, closing the distance between your bodies in a swift motion and towering his body over yours. He stooped his body towards you, his face being a whisper away from colliding with your own. Your breath hitched in your throat at his proximity, feeling a heat pool over and rise within your chest and flood your cheeks with a rosy tinge.

“I said-,” he tilted his head while whispering intimately close to your lips, “-we’re not done yet.”

A shudder broke through your shoulders, a small whimper falling at his tone escaping from between your parted lips. He reached his hand up to brush some fallen strands of your hair behind your ear, you leant your body in to his touch with closed eyes. Trailing his fingertips down, he clasped your chin to firmly prompt you to reopen your eyes to look up at him through your eyelashes; his own brown orbs half-lidded as they bore down on you with intensity.

Flittering your gaze between his eyes, you arched your back up to him; no longer cowering away from his touch but embracing it.

“You no longer desire me to return to Sanji-?” you asked him in a breath under a whisper, trailing your gaze to stare at his lips.

“-I desire you,” he uttered in a low tone, bringing his lips to graze along your jaw alongside his fingertips. Your eyes fluttered closed as the brush of his lips trailed upwards towards your ear, breath hitching as you felt his mouth press down tenderly at your jaw.

You brought your hands up to circle around his neck and toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingertips brushing against the long gold-drooped earrings hanging from his left earlobe.

“You desire me enough to dance with me by the fire?” you gasped as he increased the amount of pressure against your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses back up towards your chin and the corner of your lip. You felt him smirk against the corner of your mouth before he broke away from his subtle trail.

He pressed his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as he whispered his response; “no.”

Your shoulders immediately dropped, your arms releasing the swordsman from your grasp. You broke from his embrace and stepped away from his close proximity.

“You toy with my feelings, swordsman-,” you began, only to have your words be halted by Zoro.

“-I don’t know how to dance,” he chuckled, shaking his head while trailing his left hand to rest behind his neck, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Shock overcame you, your gaze trailing the open shirt of the swordsman down to his thighs and calves before bringing them back up to his torso and flittered down to his forearms.

“Let me show you how,” you uttered hastily, bringing your body back within its earlier intimate proximity; holding out your hand as an invitation for him to grasp it, “just take my hand.”

He turned his gaze down to the ground, muttering below his breath; “what am I doing?” before he reached out his left hand to clasp around your right, allowing you to pull him into a closer proximity.

“I am your sword,” you informed him, placing his hand to the small of your back, “and you are my master.”

Zoro released a small growl at the words you uttered, truly relishing in his title you bestowed him.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now, Swordsman,” you warned him playfully, placing your hands upon his shoulders with a small giggle. His grip settled on your waistline, smoothing his arms and hands over your hips.

Off in the distance by the side of the large bonfire, small plucked strings of the guitar trailed its way to melodically converge against the crashing of the waves to create a sweet harmony within each other. Both worlds began to collide; the ferocity of sword wielding against the subtlety of a gentle sway of your hips.

“Now,” you said, rolling your neck up to gaze into his half-lidded eyes as he held your attention, “wield me. Tell me with your body what you want me to do, and I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[rat3ggs]

beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

God he’s so fine I can’t get over it 😮‍💨

So, This is my first post on tumblr, any advice or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Sorry for bad grammar and punctuation, I kinda made this randomly.

Gyutaro smut, Fem bodied reader, semi public sex, light bdsm (hair pulling, mild teasing), 2.1k words, I genuinely don’t know what else to add.

———————————————————————

You work as a courtesan in the red light district, you’ve been here.. so long, it feels like it’s been a century.

You’ve noticed life has slowly lost its taste- the exciting adrenaline that comes with the feeling of being in the red light district now tastes bland and flavourless; everything just molds together, the faces of the men you’ve lain with look the same, the same actions, the same sizes, the same warm skin.. death would be more interesting than your current life is. Everyday like clockwork you awake, tend to the house, and prepare to service clients. you put on your layered kimono and begin applying your makeup, a thick layer of white makeup to cover your skin, you darken your eyebrows and then apply some red eyeshadow, and finally the red lip-tint.

That’s the theme.. red, your kimono is red, your eye makeup and lips.. red seems to haunt everything in your life, the colour red almost makes you feel sick.

The day went by so fast you barely even registered night came, it felt like someone was just possessing your body. before you even notice what your doing you’ve left the walls of the Ogimoto House. you stroll through the streets before the eyes of various men became far too much for you, you turn into an alleyway-- not a smart action, luckily, the men don’t follow you.

You walked for what felt like hours, but in reality it was probably just a few minutes. You eventually stopped in an alleyway.. not by choice, but when you step into a puddle and it’s soaked your shoes, when you look down, you see that sickening red. For a moment, your eyes barely registered what it is; it’s a puddle of blood! When you finally did realize, it’s not because you came to your senses; it’s because you heard a scratchy voice in the shadows.

“Ohh? Hold on, Did a courtesan stray from her house? It’s my lucky day..”

Your head whipped up to look up at the voice—it’s not like anything you’ve ever heard. It sounds like he’s never drunken water in his entire lifetime, or even touched a liquid for that matter. Your eyes can’t help but widen as you see the man or thing that stands before you. His posture reminds you of a shrimp! a large man with pale grey skin, black polka dots and mist shaped marks scattered all over his body. He has short wavy hair which starts out black then fades to green.. you’ve never thought much of green but he makes it so.. beautiful. His sclera are an unnatural colour of yellow and his irises are dark green with the kanji for Upper Moon Six written on, you can see his hip bones.. he’s so skinny he’d look like bone If not for the muscle he has! he wears no shirt and only has on a pair of baggy blue pants as well as a long red cloth wrapped loosely around his arms and neck… he holds two sickles that resemble bone? It clicks he’s a demon.

“Aren’t you pretty? I bet you already know that huh? Well? What are you staring at, never seen a demon before? Or have you never seen someone so unfortunate looking?”

He said “unfortunate looking” with a big smile.. almost like he took pride in his lack of attractiveness, your eyes trailed along his teeth for a second.. so sharp, he could bite a piece out of your flesh effortlessly! your eyes fell back to the blood- you don’t see a body? Maybe he ate it?.. he does have those shark teeth!

“Well? SPIT IT OUT! What are you deaf?”

He began scratching his face so hard it broke skin, his expression contorted into one of annoyance. You felt your hands tremble and your heart race. that’s all you could hear for a moment, the pounding of your heart.

“You little brat are you—“

You finally found the courage to speak and yet nothing came out.

“Y-you.. y—y-you’re..”

you watched his annoyance turn into an amused grin- showing his razor sharp teeth Off almost like a taunt, he walked over and stood face to face, your eyes widened and you covered your mouth almost instinctively.

“What? Was I right? Never seen someone like me? Are you terrified? Or maybe disgusted?”

He laughed and slapped the top of your head, he’s very heavy handed. You feel your body jolt with shock before he does it again and again, it stings more and more each time he does it.

“Poor girl, having to see someone as hideous as me! You must be terrified, but I bet your like all those other pretty women.. you must have me for being in your very sight! So petrified you can’t even speak!”

He gripped your hair so tightly you felt a few strands break off from your scalp, he forced you to look up at him- he has a sadistic grin on his face, his eyes pierce into yours and you feel your heart beat so hard it feels like someone’s drumming in your chest!

“You’re so handsome!”

You finally squeaked out, you aren’t scared.. you’ve never been more attracted to someone if you’re honest! He’s so— different! You’ve NEVER seen anyone like him! You feel your inner thighs begin to heat up as you stare into his eyes- you must look like a lovesick fool! He looks shocked at your words, his grin fell and he stared at you with furrowed eyebrows- he looked almost offended before he gripped your hair even tighter- somehow he looked even more confused for a moment before releasing your hair- that gave you the chance to quickly slink away! He didn’t even follow you, just stared at your back perplexed.

That night when you finally returned to the Ogimoto House, you rushed to your room and quickly changed into new clothes- you’re drenched in sweat! You’ve never felt so giddy in your entire life.. it feels like you’ve just been blessed by the gods! You want to thank whatever god molded that handsome man and allowed your eyes to be worthy of his gaze personally! You pant as your hands tremble, you stared out the window for almost an hour, hoping to see him again! You finally came to your senses and sat on your bed. you almost died! Well.. having your hair pulled isn’t anything new working as a courtesan, neither is the slapping.. you manage to relax just enough to fall asleep at midnight.

That night your dreams are filled with that demon, it’s so real you can almost feel his heavy hands on you.. trailing down from your neck until they meet your breasts, he’d squeeze and flick your sensitive nipples- making you squeak and gasp before he slid his hands down your nude body, all the way down to you’re soaked pussy.. his fingers flick your sensitive clit before he began to pump his fingers into you, he thrusted them in and out at a painfully slow pace, your tongues meet in a passionate dance- he pulled your face away with a grin before pulling his fingers out of you and began to take off his pants, before his cock could be released from the cruel prison that are blocking the pleasure you crave, you wake up with a frustrated groan.

That day goes by like every other day, you get dressed, clean, tend to clients.. but the entire day you thought of the shark toothed demon, a heat in your loins every time you thought of how his hands felt in your hair. That night you go back to that alley in hopes of seeing him again- dressed in the prettiest kimono you own and the most you’ve ever tried on your makeup- you look gorgeous.

“You trying to mock me, Brat? Show off how beautiful you are and how ugly I am? I bet you’d never give a man like me a second glance huh?”

There he was again.. you felt your heart throb- you don’t think you’ve ever been so infatuated and aroused for someone! You have to stop yourself from reaching out to try and touch him.

“No, No! I’m not trying to mock you I promise! And— did you want me to give you a second glance?”

You teased him, maybe that’s smart? He does look quite shocked.. his face goes back to a frown, you can’t figure out what type of woman he wants- all the men you know just like pretty faces!

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N! And you are..?”

“Gyutaro.”

That’s such a unique name! You’ve never gushed so hard for a man, you’ve also never tried so hard.. you can’t believe how much you’ve grown attracted to him in just one night.

“Y/N.. You know I could eat you, right?”

“I do! But it’d be the most interesting thing to happen to me in years.. and I don’t think you will, maybe you can— but you won’t.”

“Cocky, I hate that.”

“Well, the only eating on me you’ll do won’t be the type you’re thinking.”

He looked confused for a moment before a deep grey blush flashed across his face before he grabbed you by the hair once more and pulled you face to face, a deep frown plastered on his face.

“You’re real bold Yknow? or maybe stupid- probably both! I really hate that.”

You sighed and your eyes trailed down to his pants, you see the unmistakable print of his erection.. he’s so hard his cock is throbbing! He must not have many women crazy enough to start flirting with him, you take a small step closer to him and slide his pants down- Gyutaro eyes widened but he didn’t do anything to stop you, You dropped to your knees as his cock sprung out! Demon cocks are certainly bigger than humans. His cock springs out against your cheek, cum beading at the tip of his cock. He has beautiful black birthmarks along his cock as well. You began kissing each mark before you finally wrapped your lips around his cock, looking up to see his face- it’s almost like that set him off, like his mind registered it as you mocking him.. that’s all he needed to slam his cock down your throat, making you gag and grip his thighs as he started pounding your mouth like a cock sleeve.

“Dirty slut.. how dare yo— mhm..!”

He’s practically drooling, his hands knotted in your hair- forcing you to look up at his face with a hard pull as he pumped his cock down your throat, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head from pleasure. Tears begin to pool in your eyes; you feel his cock forced its way in and out of your throat; your vision begins to blur; although if you could see clearly, you’d see his sadistic grin as he watches you cry in discomfort. He feels his cock throb, and he pushes down as far as he possibly can to release his cum; he basically forced you to swallow as he fell back against a wall, panting and gasping while he released his grip on your hair.

Before you could even try to compose yourself you felt his hands wrap around your hips and your cheek press against a wall. his strong hand grip your hip while his other rips the kimono off your body, leaving you in absolutely nothing. His hand kneaded the soft skin of your ass before he gave it a hard slap, making you gasp while he laughed once more.

“Filthy little whore..”

He whispered that over and over again before he finally began fucking you, his cock almost instantly hit your cervix- not a soft brush against but hard enough to leave a bruise! That made you yelp, he laughed and began thrusting into you at inhuman speeds- the stretch make you feel dizzy with pleasure, your legs begin trembling- your brain was so foggy you barely noticed when he lifted you up so you’d stay still.

“Taro!”

“It’s g— never mind..”

He mumbled as he pounded into you, his strong arms wrapped around your body like a coat - Your head fell back against his shoulder, and your tongue lulled out. You went slack-jawed from pleasure. His heavy pants and low moans pressed against your ear as he rearranged your insides. This went on for what felt like hours before he finally released inside you, his hot cum squirting into your ready womb. You cried out in surprise and opened your eyes in shock. That shock turned into a pleasure gasp when his fingers began circling your aching clit, feeling around it before he began rubbing and teasing it. It didn’t take much effort for your orgasm to follow after his—your body went limp in his arms.

He stayed silent before he dropped you onto the alleyways floor. he pulled his pants back on and stared at your trembling form.

“Maybe you aren’t as bitchy as all the other pretty skanks, Y/N”

He stroked your hair like one would a dog with a long coat, although insulted at first at the “maybe”, but the way he said your name made your stomach flutter. he turned his back to you and left the alleyway, leaving you naked to think back on this entire endeavour, you’ve never cum so hard from just one round.. is it because you like him? Or just because he’s something new? Either way this isn’t an experience you’ll forget anytime soon.

Something tells you this won’t be the last time you meet Gyutaro.

———————————————————————-

[mysticficti0n]

hey can you do a short one for Tom- Tom n Y/n are about a month or in to their relationship and having one of their first sleep overs and when she falls asleep Tom can't help but look at her wondering how it go so lucky and he whispers he loves her, kisses her cheek and falls asleep

its a little stupid but- it sounds cute to me

Thank you 💕

sorry I just looked and this has been in my rq for a while- this is adorable, I'll make it as short as I can as I'm a bitch for huge pieces, enjoy

Lucky to have you-

Y/n walked up to the door of the Kaulitz house holding a sports bag full of clothes, make-up wipes, and the dvd of some random film Tom liked when they went shopping that after that trip she went back and brought it, she knocked on the door and within seconds it flew open with the smile of her boyfriend filling her eyes "hey Y/n!" she grinned back stepping in as he wrapped her in a hug, resting his head on hers. nobody else was home, his parents were away on a weekend trip and he'd made Bill stay over at Gustav's so they'd have nobody disturbing their first night together in his house "you look really nice babe" the girl blushed at his words looking down at her jeans and realised the jumper she'd shoved on was his

"oh I didn't even realise- sorry erm do you want this back?" she asked a small panic running through her but Tom only laughed and pulled her hands away from the hem of the jumper

"it looks better on you- keep it" she smiled squeezing his hand. it was already getting late- at least 9:30 when she finally got there after having a rushed shower, shaving ever inch of her body, bushing her teeth 100 times and spraying a whole bottle of perfume on her, the girl went to grab the bag off the floor she was swatted back by Tom who lifted it effortlessly and told the girl to follow him

She'd never actually been up stairs in his house let alone into his room, Y/n only ever herd it describe on the phone when she couldn't sleep and asked Tom just to talk so she could drift off, she walked in to see white walls plastered in different posters, a few of his band and some movie ones too and a picture of the two on his bedside table "god I look awful in that" the girl laughed grabbing the frame

"shut up- that was after our first date you looked beautiful- you still do" the boy complemented wrapping his arms around the girls stomach perching his head on her shoulder, rolling her eyes she turned to her boyfriend seeing a dopey smile spread across his face warming her heart

"I bought you something" she grinned walking to the bed where her bag had been put, she rummaged through before pulling out the dvd 'the orphan' and Toms face lit up

"when did you get this!" she laughed passing him the box "thank you!" he pulled the girl back into another hug, he wanted to press a kiss to her lips but he was worried it was still to early yet, they'd both decided to take it slow, the most that ever happened was cuddling "I got you something too- wait here" Y/n watched as Tom went quickly down the stairs and soon reappeared holding a bag and something behind his back

"ooh- whats this" she opened the pink bag to reveal chocolates and sweets, a bottle of her favourite fruit juice and a little package, she pulled the paper from it revealing a strip of polaroids they took in the bowling ally- their second date "oh Tom" she welled, before she could fully thank him he whipped out a Bunch of (your favourite flowers) from behind him "Oh my GOD!" she yelled looking at the petals, as she admired them but Tom couldn't stop from admiring her, the way her eyes lit up at the smallest thing and the smile she was once so nervous about showing "they are beautiful- thank you"

she pressed a small kiss to the boys cheek sending butterflies to his stomach and heart, a red tint coloured his cheeks but she was thankfully to distracted by his gifts to notice, he'd never been so smitten for a girl his whole life

The night carried on blissfully, the two got ready for bed, and sat under the covers Tom's arm around her and her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the movie, at parts that were it was scarier than others the girl coward to her boyfriend, hiding her eyes and laughing nervously into his shoulder asking when it was over, the two shared her chocolate and sweets, smiling as she missed her mouth and a skittle went flying across the room. The film ended and Tom went to turn off the tv but looked down to see Y/n fast asleep in his arm

Her hair laid perfectly around her head and eyelashes soft on her cheeks, small breaths left her lips that Tom so wanted. The boy ended up waiting for the tv to turn off itself before getting comfy next to Y/n, he shuffled down in the bed keeping his left arm as still as possible not to wake the girl who lay there in a world he'd never see. Though the room was dark he could make out her every feature, the way her nose was so perfect for her face and how her chest moved up and down with every breath, god he could watch her every day and never get bored

the moment he set eyes on her while he was walking past her on a day shopping with his brother he knew he had to speak to her, running to ask for her number and only a week after that they were sat on their first date sharing life stories and giggling like kids. that was 2 months ago but its always so fresh in his mind and he always reminded himself how he was the luckiest guy in the world. Toms eyes went back to Y/n's face and his heart melted more

"you don't understand how much you mean to me Y/n" he whispered, letting the hand under her play with the strands of hair that touched his fingers "I know this whole relationship is new but I never want to lose you- I've never been happier with someone and you are just perfect- everything about you is gorgeous" he toyed with his words knowing she'd never know he'd said this- Tom was bad with expressing his feelings, he did try but sometimes It doesn't come out right, thats how a lot of his past relationships ended, bad communication The girl stirred lightly, scrunching her face up and turning, her head getting comfy in the crook of his arm facing him, Tom didn't think he could be much more in love with a human "I would say this when you're awake but you know me I'm a idiot and I don't know how to say things without stuttering my words especially with you- I get so nervous around you, not because I'm scared but I want everything to be the best it can be you know- like you, and I just want to treat you like a princess and the day I can kiss you and show you physically how much i... I just- Y/n I love you, so much and-" he went to carry on but he saw the girls face change, a small smile across her lips and eyes seemed to be struggling to be shut "fu- you're awake aren't you?" her eyes flickered open and she immediately caught the gaze of her now red faced boyfriend who'd being spilling his heart for the last five minuets

"no-" she smiled up at him, no matter the situation her smile was infectious and he couldn't help but smile back at her, the girl sat up, Tom's arm now comfortably around her waist

"how much did you hear?" Tom asked cowardly, trying to avoid her look

"erm.. from you saying you'd say it to me if I was awake" he mentally slapped himself knowing he shouldn't have said it all, he tucked his lip into his teeth and sat silently "hey.. hey- whats wrong?" Y/n asked turning to him as he sulked

"i... I don't know" he shrugged "I should be able to say this all to you- without doing it when you're asleep, well- oh I don't know... but I meant It all, just annoyed at how I did it" a little laugh fell from his lips as he looked to Y/n, her eyes soft and understanding

"Tom you don't need to be annoyed- it was cute, and you really meant everything?" he nodded his head to the girl who only grinned more, her hand reached for his, thumb soothing his skin "I love you too" her voice was just more than a whisper but Tom felt like she'd screamed It to him, his head went blank only her words spinning in his mind "Tom?... are you okay?" her hand cupped his jaw brining him back into reality

"I want to kiss you really badly right now" the boy spoke without a thought, Y/n he looked up into his deep brown eyes and realised she felt the same way. Tom moved his face closer closing the distance, gently placing his lips on hers. He felt a rush of emotion wash over him as they shared their first kiss with each other. Y/n smiled to herself, feeling happy in the moment secretly she wanted since their second date. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, enjoying the newness of it all. Tom wrapped his arms around her and held her close, not wanting the moment to end, she'd moved from being sat next to him to straddling his legs, hands holding his face. Eventually though, it had to come to an end and they slowly pulled away from each other. They looked into each other's eyes and both knew that there was something special. between them and that their lives would never be the same again. "I love you Y/n" he breathed

"I love you too Tom" the couple cuddled back into the sheets, holding each other tighter than before and Tom couldn't help but press kissed to her forehead until he drifted to sleep holding the one thing he loved most- his Y/n

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Title: Union

Yandere! The ‘General!’ x fem! Reader!

(Mr Villain's Day Off)

Warnings: general yandere themes, toxic relationship, blood and slight(?) gore, violence (reader’s neck is bitten), idealization/fantasies of murder, implied possessiveness, and obsessiveness, implied codependent behavior.

I took liberation with this and created the custom of the General’s species biting the neck of their lover as some sort of vow. Like with Omega Au.

He’s out of character in this lmao.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/LURKERS/DNI

Disclaimer: I do not support or encourage any of the toxic and harmful behaviors/thoughts that may take place in this piece of fiction. It should not be romanticized or even considered normal as it is both extremely toxic and dangerous.

Word count: 1261k

---

His teeth hurt.

Sharp and pearly white, now stained with your blood. Your nails claw into his shoulders, his trench coat softening the impact. He’s more like a vampire and not an alien, you think. This twisted sense of… union isn’t really your thing. Not when it involves teeth and blood, the ritual being repeated once every other year, something that is expected and welcomed by his species.

You wouldn’t have minded it if you had decided to stay. But you do because you wanted out, tired of his little secrets, the long nights, the hidden phone calls. You would have rather that he was cheating on you, an unfaithful bastard who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Instead, you got an alien who didn’t understand what ‘no’ meant.

A little too faithful, too love stricken to see past that beautiful, beautiful tinted rose filter. And he wanted the same from you, it seems. With sharp teeth and an iron grip, he held you in place, desperate after an hour of pleas that were so unlike him.

One of his hands held the back of your neck, keeping you in place. His ring feels cold, his blunt nails feel sharp, he’s stronger, bigger than you. Resistance was futile.

His teeth dig deeper, rougher. Tears form in your eyes, running down your face in big, fat streaks, sobbing into the collar of his coat. Everything is a blur, and his free hand rubs circles into your back, attempting to soothe you. It doesn’t, it makes you feel worse because it reminds you that this man is not just a monster but has feelings and guilt like everyone else –

You genuinely, genuinely hate this alien? Man? You despise him, wanted to scalp him alive, to stab a knife through his heart until the only color you could see was red. But you would never be able to do that. Nor will you be able to drive a knife through your own heart just to escape your dammed faith.

“I’m sorry, please endure it for a bit longer…,” he gasps out before he sinks his teeth into your neck again. Your own dug into his hair, fingers pulling at his roots. The tears don’t stop and neither does his bite.

“Hurts – it hurts!” sobbing, you still attempt to push and pull his head away, but to no avail. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, breathing, and able to think. Crimson runs down your neck, stains your pretty lacy white shirt, all the while the man enjoys his sweet, sweet time with you. Like enjoying a juicy steak.

“…Hah… it’s done,” his tone, despite being comforting, was a shrill scream in your ear. His tongue pokes out, only to lick the wound, saliva mixing in with blood. It’s slimy and roughish, with a squishiness to it. Like a warm wet rag pressed against your neck. The only difference being it’s an organic tongue and not some fabric.

“… I’m sorry,” another lick, another circle rubbed onto your back. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts –

“I know it hurts… I forgot how… fragile humans could be. I’m sorry.” Too tired to fight back anymore, you fall limp in his embrace. Your jaw goes slack, eyelids too heavy to keep open. The void is calling for you.

You should have rejected his help, that day. You should have carried those heavy bags up the stairs that day, even if it meant you would have pulled a muscle or two. You should have ignored him when you kept running into him, both of you surprised to see the other so frequently. You should have kept your mouth shut and feelings hidden, your confession forgotten and your first kiss nonexistent.

Should have done this, should have done that – it’s too late to wallow in the past. The mirror cracked long ago, just like your sense of self. Like your trust in the one person who should have been your ‘everything.’ Whatever that was.

Something you realized was harmful for you, but he refused to acknowledge it. To accept it.

You should have rejected his invitation to his apartment. To get your stuff back. You should have avoided him instead of still trusting him once he let his true identity slip through that tongue of his. How naïve and stupid of you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

“I haven’t felt this way about anyone, before.”

Neither have you.

“You make me rethink my stance on humans.” He sits you down on his couch, reaching for the medical supplies sitting at the side. He prepared for this. He’s always been ready for this.

You never had a say-so in the matter. How cruel.

“You make me question myself, and what I’m fighting for.” Your eyes shut close, a towel – wet and warm – pressed against the open wound. He holds it there for a good while. Assuring that his prized ‘lover’ would be patched up in no time.

“Our customs are different from yours. It’s painful, even for us. But you don’t have to relive this pain.” You’re vaguely aware of the cotton ball, of the scent of medical ointments and the towel being pressed against the bleeding wound once more. You’re too tired to open your eyes, but you fear you might die if you don’t.

“… You should… have let me go.” It’s broken and weak, almost less than a whisper, but you manage to talk. It’s painful and took extreme amounts of effort, but you talked. You almost wish you would die – but the fear of meeting nothing but a black abyss on the other side of the road scares you more than this fiend.

He doesn’t say anything. Just tends to the wound that he inflected on you like it was just another Tuesday night. You never asked for this. You would have never asked for this, the pain, the betrayal he’s hidden from you these past two years.

You almost wish he only said ‘yes’ just to use you. A sick twisted sense of humor, a past time he could always forget at a later date. Amusement that would grow boring, dull. A toy he could have left in an open field, neither destroying it nor loving it.

If this was a romance story, then this would have been the best ending. Two crossed-star-lovers who put aside their differences to be together. One changing his view on the ‘enemy’ because his sweetheart was from that group. They fail to show the ugly side of ‘love.’

You had chosen a rotten apple and now it has poisoned you.

“… I know that you must hate me.”

You do, you hate him as much as you fear him.

“But I…”

Ring!

Ring!

Ring!

His phone goes off exactly three times before he fishes it out of his coat pocket, a sneer displayed on his mouth. His teeth show, dyed red. Still sharper than a knife.

You don’t get to see the caller ID.

“– General! Listen, I know that it is your off day – “

“Get to the point. I’m giving you five seconds before I hang up.”

You don’t get to hear the conversation, either. You could barely feel the wet rag dabbing your neck. Or the smell of herbs. You wonder if he would let you die just like this. Or if he would find a way to ‘save’ you.

Nothing matters anymore, you suppose.

Not when the ‘General’ decided that you were lovelier than a rose and brighter than the stars amongst a darken sky.

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

On the Open Water

Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)

Warnings: This is entirely based on the character from the movie and is not meant to disrespect the real person or their families/ experiences.

Description: Joe takes Sadie out for a boat ride. Yes, this is heavily influenced by the scene from the movie. All credit goes to the original writers of the script for the idea.

Boys in the Boat Masterlist

The first time she'd laid eyes on the tall figure that was Joe Rantz, her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flushed red. Thankfully, he'd been distracted by his crew who were crowded around him as they walked out to the water. She'd heard about the junior boat, they were one of the hottest topics on campus at the moment - that the 8 of them had managed to beat out so many others was remarkably impressive.

Joe was tall, broad-shoulder and muscular in a way that she'd never seen. His blonde hair looked golden in the afternoon sunshine and he had a laugh that echoed easily in the air. It was plain as day that he was very, very handsome. She allowed herself a few blissful moments to watch as he walked away, but forced herself to turn back to her homework that was due the very next day.

The second time Sadie saw Joe Rantz was at a school-sanctioned party after he and his crew won their first race. She'd been doing her best to keep her gaze from where he was sitting, but considering the party was in their honor, it was hard not to let her attention wander back to him. Joe was seated between Roger Davis and George "Shorty" Hunt at a circular table just off to the side of the area that had been marked off for the dance floor.

Roger and Shorty were leaning close to Joe, shoving his shoulders a bit and whisper-yelling at him as he shook his head, a red flush tinting his cheeks.

Sadie was sitting comfortably at her own table surrounded by some of her roommates who had become some her best friends. Lily and Angela were laughing as they slowly drank the colorful cocktails in their chilled glasses - the only refuge from the increasingly hot room.

"What do you think, Sadie?" Lily asked her, drawing her attention away from the men of the hour. Lily had always been the more outgoing of their bunch, blonde and as beautiful as she was she drew men to her as easily as she breathed the air around them.

Angela was equally gorgeous with long hair that trailed down her back and dark as a raven's wing. Her lips were always painted bright red in contrast to her bright white teeth. She was incredibly smart, witty, and was always making them laugh with some sort of remark made just under her breath.

Sadie smiled, tucking a loose piece of curled hair behind her ear. "What do I think about what?"

Angela and Lily shared a glance, smirking at one another, "About how Joe Rantz has been glancing over at you every few minutes since he saw you sitting there."

"He has not," She protested. Her eyes widened as she took in their honest expressions and twisted, smug lips. "Really," she continued, "I doubt he knows I'm here. What is more likely is that he's looking at one of you."

Lily shook her head, "Looks like we're about to find out."

"What do you mean?" Sadie asked, turning her head to follow the direction of Lily's quirked brow. Joe Rantz had begun to stand from his seat and George was patting him heartily on his shoulder, while Roger looked straight in the direction of their table. He was leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together and grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Joe's eyes caught hers, eyeing the red that crept into her cheeks for a split second before she looked away from him. Casting worried looks at her friends, "He's not coming this way, is he?"

Sadie was not as confident as Lily or as quick-witted as Angela, but she was enthusiastically kind and had a heart twice as large as anyone else. She prided herself on seeing the best in others even though most times she couldn't quite see the best in herself.

Lily and Angela didn't answer, instead they made to stand giving her a supportive thumbs-up before hurrying away from the table. Angela winking at her and her giving her a large smile.

The sound of footsteps nearing the table drew her attention away from her giggling friends. Sadie felt distinctly aware of every hair out of place on her head and the dampness at the small of her back from the heat of the room.

"Hello," Joe's baritone sounded next to her and Sadie looked up into startlingly, clear blue eyes in answer. His blonde hair was combed neatly atop his head and his mouth was softened into a small, hesitant smile. "My name's Joe - Joe Rantz."

She offered him her hand in greeting and he extended his much larger hand to accept it. "It's nice to meet you," she smiled, proud of how she held her voice steady in front of the man she'd been admiring from afar.

Sadie offered him her own name, which he repeated softly, almost to himself. He seemed to be testing the way it tasted on his lips and she couldn't deny the butterflies that took flight in her stomach at hearing him swirl her name around inside of his mouth.

She gestured towards one of the empty seats in an offer for him to sit down. Joe hesitated, eyes downcast before flicking back up to hers, "I was actually wondering if, maybe, you might want to dance with me?"

Sadie's smiled encouragingly, "I'd love to."

Accepting his outstretched hand, she let him lead her to the dance floor. Where he pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the steadiness of his body against her own nervous one. Her heart was beating so hard that she could feel it in her fingertips and she glanced up at his face to determine if he could hear it.

Instead, she caught a look that was a little bashful and incredulous as he pulled her slightly closer than one might a friend. She stepped forward to make it easier for him, delighting in the red that grew at the tips of his ears.

The third time she saw Joe Rantz was beneath her window.

"What are you doing?" She asked, laughing as she pushed the window open.

He was beautiful in the moonlight, eyes wide in excitement and a broad grin taking over his face. "Do you want to go on a boat ride?" He looked up at her expectantly, no trace of any expectation that she would say no.

"Right now?" Sadie asked, voice full of laughter.

He shrugged, "Sure, why not."

She laughed, "I'll be right down." She hurried into her shoes, flinging her door open and ignoring the questions from Lily and Angela. She half-ran and half-stumbled her way down two flights of stairs to the door where Joe waited for her.

"Hi," she greeted, breathless as she pushed the door open.

Joe's grin was brighter than she'd ever seen. He reached for her and she stepped easily into his reach, one of his hands trailing down her arm to her hand which he took in his own. "Follow me," he said, leading her forward.

He must've already been to the University's shell house, because he led her to the dock where he had a small row boat tied securely. He offered her his arm and she climbed into the boat with unsteady legs.

Joe climbed in after her, the very picture of grace and set them off. The water was calm around them and as Joe rowed them away from shore, the symphony of the open water at night performed for them. Swirling water and soft breezes smelling of fresh spring flowers, carrying with it the smell of Joe's cologne.

She turned her head towards him and found his blue eyes already staring at her.

"You're going to row us into something if you don't pay attention to where we're going," she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.

Joe smirked, his expression the picture of confidence. "Of the two of us, remind me who has more experience out on the water," his voice drew her attention down to his lips, which morphed into something of a smug grin as he caught her slip.

Sadie glanced up quickly. "Obviously, it's me," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder pretending to have all of the confidence in the world.

Joe laughed softly next to her and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.

He stopped rowing, letting the current take hold once they were in the middle of the water and the boat began to drift slowly as it did.

"Do you like rowing?" Sadie asked, studying his expression. It was mostly hidden from her but as he tilted his head in contemplation the light from the moon illuminated him in a silver glow.

"I'm getting a job out of it," he shrugged. His voice took on a nonchalant tone but his eyes gave away his enjoyment for the sport.

Sadie nudged him with her shoulder, "You seem to be pretty good at it."

"Do I?" Joe smiled, blue eyes twinkling.

Sadie nodded, "You boys are going to become famous with the skill you have in your boat. Just wait, you'll see that I'm right and you'll forget all about me."

She turned her face away from him, not wanting to show him the expression that was likely painting her face.

Joe's calloused hand slid a long her cheek, gently guiding her gaze back to him. "I don't think I could forget you if I tried," he whispered, his voice so low she was sure she could only hear him because he was so close.

Her gaze dropped down to his soft lips again before flicking back up to his eyes. Joe didn't wait a moment and leaned forward, gently pressing their mouths together.

His lips were warm and so very soft against her own. He tasted of salt and something distinctly Joe that she ached for more of. She reached her own hand up, gliding her hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly into her mouth and twisted his head, deepening their kiss. Using the hand that wasn't caressing her face, he gripped onto her waist, just holding her softly against him.

She cursed herself for pulling away first but her lungs were begging her for oxygen. They stayed close, resting their foreheads against one another. Joe's breath kissed the apples of her cheek as he exhaled.

"We should probably get back to the dorms before someone notices I'm gone," she whispered.

"I'll row us back," Joe hummed in agreement, though his hands remained where they were. "But, one more kiss couldn't hurt."

His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded as he looked at her, waiting for her permission.

Sadie slid her hand back into his soft, blonde hair and if they shared a few more kisses than their only witnesses were the full moon above them and the open water that surrounded them.

A/N: Would anyone be interested in reading any more about Sadie and Joe?

[justporo]

Mirror, mirror on the wall

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 3

Author's Note: In which there will be smut. That yet again wasn't initially planned at this point, but we already know these two do what they want - in front of a mirror... I know this has been done before, so I don't even remotely claim this idea although it was much more innocent before I read other people's stuff. And now here we are - enjoy! (Also this chapter is by no means plot relevant for those who want to skip)

Song: Killshot - Magdalena Bay (slowed + reverb) Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit sexual content

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

„How do we keep doing this all the time?”, you asked Astarion through your happy tears. “I guess this is what people like to call the ‘honeymoon phase’”, the vampire responded laughing but his cheeks were a bit wet as well.

“It’s exhausting”, you complained “I hope it never stops.” To that the vampire laughed even more and kissed you. “Now, let’s go or we won’t make it to this ball”, he said and gave you a light slap on the butt. “You’re the one who keeps distracting me!”, you shouted and stabbed a finger into his bare chest peeking from his robe.

Astarion raised his hands in defence and made to turn away. You shook your head and wanted to grab your few pieces of makeup you owned to finish your look, but Astarion was behind you again. “Allow me one last distraction, my love”, he said and held up another small box. You rolled your eyes at him: “So you lied about the necklace being the last gift.” “No, I didn’t! These go with the necklace. Also, they will go nicely with your beautiful silver eyes, my sweet”, the pale elf pouted and opened up the box to reveal a set of dangling earrings with matching moonstones and a few gold hoops that were meant for the pierced parts of your pointy ears.

You sighed and made doe eyes at your vampire: “You’re too sweet, Astarion. These are beautiful. Thank you.” You grabbed the pieces of jewellery and put them in, taking another glance in the mirror – stunning.

“Now go get dressed yourself, I won’t let you go in this robe”, you shooed Astarion off and went to grab your grooming stuff.

Astarion sighed and left you to it. With your few things in hand, you knelt in front of the huge mirror – your dress bunched up all around you. You grabbed a piece of kohl to rim your eyes and put a little bit of tinted oil on your lips and cheeks. The final touch was a bit of the perfume oil that Astarion had already gifted you some time ago. Personally picked out by him, smelling of orange and teak – and proven to make you even more irresistible to him.

When you were done you turned to watch Astarion but he was already fully dressed, only tugging at the lacy bits of his sleeves under his doublet jacket.

Your jaw dropped. Before you could only imagine how incredibly he would look in those clothes but seeing it was a whole different affair. He looked not only elegant: he looked like someone people would erect statues for and paint portraits of – so they could swoon and cry over his eternal beauty for generations. You felt a bit light-headed and your chest clench in pain when you imagined that this man was truly yours.

He saw you looking, mouth agape, from across the room. So, he moved into his usual elegant stance, one hand casually held up, his shoulder back, one leg slightly behind the other – smirk on his face at full power: “So tell me, my love, how do I look?” Oh, the bastard knew exactly how beautiful he was.

“Not a day over two hundred, my dear”, you offered and pursed your lips. His shoulders fell forward and he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, tongue in cheek: “Count on Tav to destroy a vampire’s ego.” You cackled and got up.

“Just kidding, my love. I’m going to be real with you now. You look beautiful.” At this Astarion’s head and ears perked up. You had his full attention.

“You look devilishly handsome”, you spoke and began sauntering over to him, swaying your hips. Time for you to turn this man’s weapons on himself for a bit. He’s made you flustered often enough, maybe you could repay the favour for once.

“If sin was given a body and a face it would be yours, Astarion. And yet your creator would cry for the beauty they’d created and had given to the world”, you hushed, stretched out your hands as if trying to reach him and then closing them, drawing them back to your chest with a sigh and widening eyes.

Astarion’s whole posture straightened and his crimson eyes widened. You were sure he would have blushed had he still been capable of doing that. His lips slightly parted as he stared at you in awe: “Oh, my love, I think there was a poet lost in you.”

You stopped walking towards him and grinned at him: “Want another one?”

“Oh please, my eloquent little poet, you know flattery will get you anywhere with me!”

At that you made a little “oooh” and elegantly placed your hand on your chest as if pretending to be shocked. “Is that so? I had barely noticed”, you grinned and batted your eyelashes at him – this dress was obviously doing things to you – or maybe it was Astarion in his whole regal glory.

You coughed to clear your throat and began prowling over to him again.

“You look like a perfect piece of wrapped chocolate that I’d love to slowly unravel and then pop into my mouth”, you continued and let your tongue click at the end. Astarion’s eyes widened even more while you kept coming closer. “Or maybe I’d love to feel you melt in my hands until you’re gone completely.” You firmly held his gaze while you prowled closer. The vampire seemed stunned, but a proud grin crept onto his lips.

But then you stopped suddenly as you realised you had no more lines. So much for turning the canons on him for once.

Your brain just kind of short-circuited and you doubled over laughing. Astarion was stunned by the sudden mood change but then joined in: “Oh, my sweet, we have to work on your delivery.” At that you snickered: “Come on, Astarion, some of your lines are terrible.”

The vampire pouted: “I’d say they’ve gotten better.”

“Yeah, but only since you’ve been with me”, you pointed out as you straightened your back again.

“Yes, because with you it’s real”, Astarion answered pointedly. You threw him a warm smile.

“So, my seduction didn’t work?”, you asked. The vampire made a face: “Started off strong and then declined abysmally, love.” You laughed and walked over the rest to Astarion and kissed him.

“Ah my love, we have to do your hair and give you some shoes, don’t we?”, he said after that. You looked at your feet – oh yes, he was right.

Astarion grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the mirror. He took out the pins holding up your now dry hair until soft waves fell down onto your shoulders. Then he used some of them to loosely put up some strands at the back of your head while he hummed softly. Very quickly he had tamed your mane. Just like with everything else he’d done great job – you looked magnificent.

The vampire looked very pleased with himself looking at you. In fact he could barely stop staring at you. But when you whacked him on the arm softly, he snapped out of his starstruck admiration for you.

He went over to the bed once more and grabbed a pair of shoes from under it. Some flats the same colour of your dress with some silk bands.

Astarion sat down on the chaise longue once more and patted his thigh, shoe in hand: “Come here, love, let’s finish up this business.”

Without hesitating you put your naked foot on top of his thigh. The vampire’s red eyes immediately lit up and he looked up at you with a smirk. You smirked back and gasped when he softly pushed up your skirt. He pushed it up in an agonizingly slow movement over your knee; but then didn’t stop until it was almost pushed up all to your waist.

Then he let his free hand wander up your leg, pressing a kiss to your shin while still looking up at you. His hand was at the back of your knee making you gasp again and lifting your leg ever so slightly. He softly put on your shoe and slowly tied the ribbon around your ankle as you watched his long, elegant fingers at work. Yet again, the heat from earlier in the night made itself known.

Once done you switched to the other leg – the same procedure followed. You almost moaned at the vampire’s soft caress of your legs when you noticed he stole small sideways glances. And as you turned you could see: yourself looking back. You were reflecting in the mirror. Your leg kind of levitating in the air. And more: you could see the indents of Astarion’s fingers on your thigh. Your mouth fell open, then something clicked into place for you.

“I see there was another reason for the mirror in the bedroom”, you drawled as you let your gaze wander back to Astarion’s gaze. He smirked at you, sinful promise twinkling in his ruby eyes. “Maybe”, he simply replied while one of his eyebrows twitched and he finished tying your other shoe.

He pressed a kiss to your knee while he stroked your thigh – his grip a lot firmer now. You looked over to the mirror and saw his touch – and also, how you started arching your back. Some bits of your sinful lacey underwear were showing.

Need rose in you, pooled between your legs and sent pulsating jolts out through your body.

You slowly put your leg down from Astarion’s thigh but kept holding up your skirt with one hand. The vampire just kept watching you with an intense stare. The way he was sitting with his legs spread, one finger absent-mindedly, softly tapping on his knee and his lips slightly parted while your eyes were locked, made you think you weren’t the only one feeling an urge to feel each other’s bodies.

So, you sat down slowly on his lap with your legs around his hips – carefully placing your already wet core to where you immediately felt his growing and hardening need for you. You felt like a goddess – blessing your chosen with the utmost gift of yourself.

Astarion’s hands were almost immediately on your ass, pulling you down harder onto him. “I hope you’ve thought about how accessible these outfits are, Astarion”, you whispered and rolled your hips, making him groan. “Of course, my love, how couldn’t I?”, he snickered back and then moaned again, his head rolling back at you rewarding him with some delicious friction for his thoughtfulness.

You looked at the mirror again, saw yourself hovering above the piece of furniture, skirts all bunched up, revealing more of your lingerie beneath it. It was weird to see yourself like this – but also exhilarating.

Astarion saw you observing yourself and his face split with a dirty smile, looking perfectly pleased with himself: “Can’t stop looking at yourself like this, my naughty little pet? I can’t blame you. Because neither can I.”

You moaned at his praise and arched your back to offer up your breasts to the vampire who happily went to kiss your exposed neck with a wide-open mouth, licking up the hem of your neckline, his fangs slightly grazing the delicate smooth skin there.

You moaned and closed your eyes as you felt his arms around your back, pulling you even closer to him and holding you steady. Then you felt his hands reach inside your dress, freeing your breasts until they were propped up by the bodice. When you took another peek, you saw how nicely they were perked up in this position. And you couldn’t help being turned on massively seeing yourself like this – it made you feel ethereal.

And then the vampire hungrily devouring you. Worshipping at the altar that was your body.

You looked back at Astarion and pushed your tits into his face – losing any last shred of shyness you might’ve felt before. He’d called you a goddess before, you were keen to act on it.

The vampire groaned and bucked his hips, so you felt the friction of his erection against your core. Then he graciously took one of the hardened buds of your breasts in his mouth with a sigh. You gasped when you felt his tongue twirl around it and then how he softly bit into it. You hissed, soft waves of your hair raining down on your shoulders when your head fell back.

Your hands wandered into Astarion’s hair as you watched him let his tongue wander over your breasts, extracting small cries of pleasure from you whenever the tip of his tongue wandered over the tips or his teeth softly scratched your skin as he stole looks at you above him and in the mirror in turn.

You grabbed his curls at the back of his neck with one of your hands and steadied yourself with the other on his shoulder when you could barely contain yourself anymore. You dragged his head back by his soft locks. His mouth was wide open, his lips glistening as he licked over them and his bared fangs as he grinned at you – knowing exactly he’d been the one to get you this worked up and desperate for him, knowing he was the one making you lose the very last pieces of innocence you might’ve held – sinful bastard.

“I need you inside of me, Astarion”, you moaned and begged him. His grin only grew as his free hand wandered between you, past your intricate underwear and immediately found the sensitive nub between your spread legs. And the tip of his finger moved, agonizingly slow as you saw your head roll back in the mirror again, an invisible force lifting up your skirts and lifting up the lace of your lingerie.

You rolled your hips against him more aggressively now, trying to get more, but this only made the vampire withdraw his teasing finger. He pressed you down hard again on his crotch and you frantically tried to grind against him, earning another groan from him.

“Gods”, Astarion exclaimed breathlessly “if I’d known this would turn you on this much, I would have bought a mirror months ago.” You didn’t answer, merely rolled your hips again, desperate for more traction – a slave to your own lust now. And Astarion watched you, letting the hand that had been teasing you slide between you again. But this time to let the ball of his hand drag down over the bulge of his hard cock - once.

“Say please”, he purred in a deep tone that poured over you like cold water; sending shivers throughout your body as his hand went back to holding you steadily over him.

But you’d understood: “Please”, you hushed and let your hand take the place of his. Feeling him trough his pants as you dragged your fingers down against his hardened length, making him growl. That’s how you kept going for a while. Your own lust growing as you so clearly felt his.

The vampire held you, one hand on your behind, the other on your back and watched you his head leaning from side to side as if he was observing the most unbelievable creature he’d ever seen. From time to time, he slapped your ass without warning, making you gasp and hiss and wanting to push yourself against him harder. He also sucked on your breasts again until you couldn’t endure it anymore.

With your hand in his hair, you pulled back his head again and pressed your open lips onto his eagerly, while aggressively pushing your hips against his crotch. Your tongue was desperately trying to gain dominance over his, but it was forlorn. Astarion was still somehow the more dominant one despite you sitting on top of him, pressing your body against him. You broke off the kiss. “Please, Astarion, fuck me”, you practically begged and pressed your body against his again.

The vampire chuckled as he threw another sideways glance. For a moment he shook his head absent-mindedly: “I can’t wait to have you in front of this mirror again and again, my sweet – on my lap again or on all fours, your body facing the mirror while I’m taking you – or pressed against it.” You whimpered at his promise and desperately clawed at his shoulder and neck, begging for release, begging for him to fulfil your pleas.

And then Astarion finally complied, quickly opening up his pants to free his dick, simply and carelessly pushing your delicate underwear aside before lifting you up and filling you completely in one swift movement.

“You’re so delicious in every kind of way, darling”, Astarion moaned as his eyes widened at this feeling of you clenching around him, finally.

You felt so deliciously full and weren’t completely done taking in this new sensation when Astarion started to move. With his hands on your hips now to help you get more movement, he thrust into you painfully slow at first. But he quickly lost his temper as he watched your mirror image and his movements became quick and hard.

This wasn’t about being elegant anymore, this was about sating a carnal hunger. About giving a goddess the worship, she rightfully deserved. And a worshipper reaping the fruits of his loyal prayers.

“Look at you, my love”, he pressed out while fucking you. You turned your head and saw yourself: mouth open and tongue out, boobs bouncing wildly, your hips being rocked by an invisible force. Seeing it while feeling Astarion hit deep inside you was enough to make you come quickly, desperately clawing at the vampire’s shoulders as you rode your high and white bliss made you forget that you were still mortal for a moment. The vampire kept thrusting into you shortly until he also came violently and with a hiss, joining you in your ascension.

You could feel him twitching inside your body as you drifted off to the stars in your joint ecstasy.

Then you slumped together, both breathless, chests heaving. Holding onto each other carefully but desperately like castaways on the open sea. You stayed like this for some time, just staring into each other’s wide and open eyes in awe and love.

“We had better not ruined my doublet”, Astarion sneered after a few long moments of trying to regain composure. “Well, fuck you for putting a mirror in here. And fuck you for fucking me in front of it then”, you snarled and lightly boxed his shoulder before you carefully climbed off his lap.

“Is that a promise, my love?”, the vampire replied with a shit-eating grin as he carefully helped you stand up. You just rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but to wonder about possible future endeavours.

“You’re ruining me”, you whispered.

“I can only hope so”, Astarion snickered naughtily.

You both quickly helped each other become decent again, fixing up each other’s appearances. Then Astarion cupped your face and gave you a quick kiss: “I love you, you know that, my naughty little succubus?” “Love you too, you kinky little vampire.” You both grinned and snickered, then said vampire grabbed you by the hand and led you down the stairs.

“Now, let’s go or all the champagne will be gone”, he said while you went after him with another giggle.

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear