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#how the fuck were you suppose to know that their entire life was a life
stars-in-a-jam-jar · 3 days
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Moar Buddy Dawn Shit in relation to this post
Buddy was dead for about 10 to 15-maybe-20 minutes. Kristen and Gorgug at the top of Freshman Year were only dead about 3 to 5 minutes and they still got some form of time in the afterlife, (side note: Gorgug not knowing what Orc Heaven looks like and being Deeply Fucking Terrified and shellshocked by the entire experience is So Juicy To Me, like. Something that should by all rights be familiar to him being foreign. Of deep spiritual significance, but not in the way it was 'supposed to be'; he didn't even know how it was 'supposed to be' at the time or after he learned it, he's still not really sure if it was ever a 'supposed to'.) so I'm quite sure Buddy experienced Something beyond the grave and chose to leave it for this nameless aspect of Ankarna. The version of her which exists as a result of her complete death and incomplete resurrection/preservation.
In that 10 to 15 minutes, Buddy passed into the place he was going. Perhaps some cornfield out on the edge of Helio's domain where Helio figured 'I'll get to him or he'll find me sometime, there's literally infinite time here'. Perhaps as a petitioner on the Astral Sea- wait, no, I'm thinking about Rolling With Difficulty cosmology, the Astral Realm is not a sea in Fantasy High. (also go listen to Rolling With Difficulty) Regardless of if he went to the afterlife the adults all told him he'd go to if he'd been a good boy or to some more limbo-like place, he had just enough minutes for the reality to sink in that he's Dead. He's dead and the feeling of a hand gripping his shoulder as if to hoist his assailant high enough to slit his throat presses like a cold weight on his skin. As if this body has skin, no, he's just a solid soul given form in this place.
So jarring. Resting dead in some corner of the cosmos like finding the one empty room at a big loud party where you've mostly been taking things in, sticking close to people you know, not doing anything you're not supposed to. Sitting down on the unfamiliar furniture or swaying idly in place as you listen to the murmur of this foreign world around you. Only it's not like that, not truly at all. You're not at the party anymore, the echoes of your life aren't some thing you're taking a break from to rejoin or building up the nerve to excuse yourself from to get a proper change of scene. There is no going back or moving forward.
He's dead. Buddy Dawn is dead.
How many minutes did it take him to lose composure? Did he even? When the ultimatum was posed to him, did he harden his heart to any regrets about abandoning his original faith, or did he relax into knowing he could live again, in service of something that reached for him and he reached back towards?
Why was he so chipper saying 'Dang, y'all, I worship a nameless god of rage.'? He didn't sound horrified by his decision in much the same way he didn't sound in touch with reality when he said 'Sometimes I raise my hand and magic that burns folks to a crisp comes out, but that's just the lord Helio working through me.' His death didn't change him so much as it fixed his gaze onto something new.
He is still a Cleric. Through and through. His soul needs a divinity to latch onto. And this is the first time he has latched onto a divinity wholly and completely for himself. He was not taught how to live for himself. He was taught how to live and die for a cause. For Helio. He earns a nice afterlife via sacrificing his autonomy to whatever the church tells him is good and right.
But he doesn't want a nice afterlife.
He wants another life.
And he no longer has faith that Helio will deliver him from any hardship, because even after he's just barely grasped how dead he is and has been for the past 11 minutes, his soul is wrent into an ultimatum by a different power. Go back to his body and continue living under a new banner, or be trapped in a dark, solitary purgatory which his soul may never be free from.
It's an easy decision, really. Barely requires any thought, only following a feeling. He no longer wants to stand by the god who allowed him to die so unceremoniously and so unfairly. He honestly feels more betrayed by Helio than he does by Kipperlily. Kipperlily hardly made any promises to him, just asked for him to be the party's cleric. He never expected her to do that, sure, but... His whole life he was promised that every bad emotion he ever felt in response to every wrongness in his life would (should, must, has to) simply evaporate away in the golden light of the corn god. And it's been an eternal 12 minutes, but he only feels worse and worse.
And if all Helio could promise him was a flat expanse of farmland overseen by someone who didn't even properly greet him when he walked in (if the celestial bureaucracy were even doing their jobs and funneled the soul of Helio's cleric to Helio instead of some cosmic waiting room or other), but this nameless deity can promise him a life for himself? Then by god he's taking that ultimatum, come back to life, sit up with a slightly surprised little smile and announce to the world (as he has been taught is right to do when you are devoted to a god) 'I worship a nameless god of rage!'
And he'll be happy with this choice-that-is-not-a-choice which he was betrayed and coerced into. Because it truly feels self indulgent to choose anything. To choose ragefully living for himself instead of obediently dying for an unfulfilling promise. He'll choose the intensity and the darkness because the gentle constant pressure cooker of walking in the light gave him nothing but sunburns and a slit throat.
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gojos-fr-bae · 3 days
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Liar pt.8
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: ANGSTTTT, but fluff at the end, cussing, drinking, grinding, NOT PROOFRED, i don't think there's anything else but as always lmk if there is.
Note- the italics is a flashback, actually, Satoru's entire section is a flashback from pt 7.
Word Count: 1.3K
A/N: VFYVKD. Guys, I think this might be the last part to this series😭😭😔😔 This has been a journey, thank you so much for everyone who has read this far, I truly and deeply appreciate every single one of you❤️❤️ I don't want it to endddd, so lmk if you would like me to keep writing for this au bc I would LOOVE to.
(Requests open)
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Satoru
He was beginning to feel like he was slipping. He hadn’t had a glass since the shot he took before Kaito came to spend the night with him. Although it was now night and hours since his son had left, he naively thought that he had overcome his addiction since he hadn’t felt the urge to drink the whole time he was with Kaito. 
Oh how wrong he was. He needed to get a drink and fast. He jumped into his car and began speeding to the nearest liquor store, only to find it with an eight-person line. He didn’t have the patience to wait that long and made his way to a bar. Any bar, honestly speaking, he had no idea where he even was. 
He quickly went over, ordered, and chugged five tequila shots consecutively. Once the alcohol finally kicked in, he finally began to feel like himself again. 
‘He was is disgusting. What kind of pathetic, sorry excuse of a man can’t survive without drowning himself in alcohol? How was he supposed to win you back and be a father for Kaito in such a state?’ 
These were the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind as he ordered a glass of whiskey, this time much more relaxed, seated on his stool, staring lifelessly into the endless abyss. 
He was slowly sipping his drink when he felt a pair of hands clutch his shoulders before slowly gliding down his arms. Because of his inebriated state, he wasn’t able to sense them approaching, however, he just chose to ignore, only seeming to amuse the stranger. He slowly turned his seat to face them. 
He was completely unamused when his eyes landed on a young woman clearly intent on getting into his pants. She clearly thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, therefore disarming a chance at him, but all he could think of was how ugly she looked in comparison to you. He just rolled his eyes, trying to go back to wallowing in self-pity. The lady just wouldn’t let up, turning around before she began grinding against him to the beat of the music. Foul, Satoru thought, feeling his patience run out.
“Get away from me you fucking slut,” he hissed, venom lacing his words as he placed his hand on her waist, trying to push her away when next thing he knows, a palm is making contact with his cheek, landing a harsh slap across his face. It was only then that he finally sensed your cursed energy. He quickly turned to face you, heart plummeting when he saw tears streaming through your face. 
Shit, he can only imagine what this looked like to you. He tried to reach out to you but you just screamed at him and ran away from him. 
He began to panic. 
His heart was racing. 
The world around him was spinning and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t move a single inch. His vision was getting spotty and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He felt like he was going to vomit. 
WHY! WHY HIM, WHY NOW! WHY COULDN’T HEJUST CONTROL HIMSELF AND STOP FUCKING DRINKING! He was absolutely torturing himself in his head as he spiraled. 
He finally mustered the strength to run after you, leaving the unnamed girl where she stood, utterly confused.
He ran as fast as his legs could take him but you were nowhere to be found. 
He leapt into his car and drove as fast as the vehicle could go. He was at Jujutsu tech in about five minutes but that was the longest five minutes of his entire life. He had to get to you. He needed to explain, he needed to make sure you know that it wasn't what it looked like.
Y/N
After crying your heart out on the sidewalk, you eventually made your way back to Jujutsu Tech. You texted Shoko and asked her if she could take care of Kaito for the rest of the night. You felt so guilty for staying away from him for two nights in a row but you just couldn’t bear to have him see you like this.
Just as you were about to close the dorm door behind you, you heard running and frantic breathing approach. You didn’t even bother trying to fight Gojo as he forced his way through the door you were trying to shut.
“Y/N p-please” he took a pause, slightly hunched over as he attempted to catch his breath, “I pro- I promise it wasn’t what you looked like!” he tried to explain, clearly panicked. 
“What the fuck do you mean it’s not what it looked like, Gojo.” you questioned, putting emphasis on how you said his name. It felt like you were continuously stabbing him with a jagged dagger and he felt his knees getting weak but he couldn’t let you go, not now.
“My love please! I swear on my life it wasn’t! I wasn’t trying to do anything with her fuck! I don’t even know her name!” “Then what was it Gojo! She was grinding on you and you were FUCKING ENJOYING IT, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!!” You yelled your throat raw.
“I was trying to get her away from me! Please, believe me, I promise,” He dropped on his knees, reaching for your hands with his own shaking ones. Tears began to trickle down his face as his breathing grew heavy.
A small part of you wanted to believe it, but you were struggling. Deep down, you were telling yourself that he was telling the truth. But that was a part of you you hadn’t seen since Gojo was sealed. You survived this long without listening to it, so why start now?
“Gojo…let’s get a divorce-”
“NO! NO! BABY PLEASE! Don’t do this to me! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE, MORE THAN BREATHING, MORE THAN MYSELF MORE THAN ANYTHING! DON’T LEAVE ME-”
“Gojo you were gone for years! I LIVED WITHOUT A HUSBAND FOR YEARS! And from what it looks like, you CLEARLY didn’t feel my or Kaito’s absence! And from what it looks like, you’ve moved on-”
“BUT I HAVEN’T! I HAVEN’T! I GO TO BED HOLDING A PICTURE OF YOU CLOSE TO MY CHEST EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! I HAVE NEVER TAKEN OFF YOUR RING SINCE THE DAY I GOT BACK AND FOUND YOU GONE!” He cried, showing you your ring, which laid on his fingers. You would be lying if you said you didn’t notice it, but you just assumed that was due to how expensive it was. It would’ve been a waste to let it collect dust in a drawer.
“Y/N, you and out baby boy are the only fucking reason I wake up every day. You two are the light of my life and when I lost you. I was so distraught I even started drinking and you know better than anyone how much I hate that shit but it’s the only thing that takes my mind off of everything!”
You were now crying too, touched by what he was saying. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word and it shook you to your core. 
You stayed anchored where you stood, sobbing now as Satoru got up off his knees and took you into his arms. Hugging you as tightly as he could without breaking your ribs.
You couldn't even move. You just stood there and cried with him, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the past couple of years wash away.
All that grief, suffering, and pain over the past few years was washing away in your tears.
You love him.
You had pushed down your feelings for him so deep that for a moment, you forgot they were even there. But you love him, and he you, and you knew that there was know way either of you could live without each other any longer.
You love him, and he loves you, and nothing was going to change that. 
Not now, not ever.
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
The End...?
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa
© gojos-fr-bae
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codenamesazanka · 3 days
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cursory chapter thoughts:
What was this chapter
So... was Deku/AFO's attack supposed to destroy 'Shigaraki Tomura' (and leave 'Shimura Tenko' intact)? I guess that makes sense, since he didn't care about Shigaraki Tomura, only about The Crying Child. What gets messy is whether it made clear in the text that Shigaraki and Tenko are separate people? Deku treated it as if they were; Shigaraki insisted they weren't (BUT he's brainwashed/traumatized/wrong, so what does he know 🤡); the narrative seems to imply that they're still the same people but perhaps Tenko is more 'core' - At the end of 418, Tenko is the one saying 'No' to playing heroes, growing into Shigaraki/his adult self to say 'Villains need a Hero of their own', which seems to be his True Dream, implying that Tenko and Shigaraki do at least share that, they are at least partly the same person... (But then 419 said his entire life was manufactured, so.) Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko is whoever Deku decides he is, I guess.
Sero's speech feels condescending and dismissive. I totally get him, that he's a normal guy in midst of all these tragedies and trauma victims, he can't quite relate to them, his motivation is purely 'Doing well at school' and 'preparing for my future career' and that's perfectly fine! Tragedy doesn't make people stronger; there's only just suffering. The issue is that the disconnect between Normal Guy Sero and Trash Rat Baby AFO (and Abused Eugenics Baby Todorokis, Hate Crime Child Victim Hetermorphs, Quirk Conversation Therapy Toga) is pretty big. And so the speech comes off seeming to say 'that sounds like a you problem'. Or, even if he later says 'bad stuff shouldn't happen', that's so broad and vague it's meaningless, especially since the 'bad stuff' that's happening is mostly from... the system he's fighting to protect. Bad stuff happens to people and that should stop. How to stop it? Just don't be unlucky I guess?
I can't remember well, but isn't the majority of the damage Deku suffers pretty much self-inflicted? He was away for most of the Sky Coffin battle. Then he faced off only Shigaraki, and that consisted mostly of breaking Shigaraki's wrist in a hold, and dodging because he couldn't let Shigaraki touch him - though Shigaraki does get a few hits in, including tossing him across the country to Fuji. But the main injuries I remember getting prominence and significance is from overusing OFA - muscles tearing, unable to breathe, etc.
The Shirt is so awful. That's the extent of civilian help. Supporting Heroes by buying their exclusive merchandise and believing in The Symbol. And Deku puts value in that, given that he recognizes the fucking shirt. Yeah, yeah, it's symbol of their trust in him, their spirit and wishing energy is in that shirt, whatever. It's a terrible gesture and symbol to use, imo.
I like that AFO is sad.
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saras-almanac · 23 hours
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BuckTommyWeekend Day 1: Alternate First Meeting
Title:  This seat taken?
Fandom:  911 (ABC)
Pairing:  Buck/Tommy
Summary:  Buck and Tommy meet at a restaurant for the first time. For the prompt: Alternate First Meeting for @bucktommyweek
Notes: There’s so many potential first meetings for these two both within canon and outside of it. I’m behind on writing for this weekend so just went with one that’s a bit quicker, but will probably expand on in the future before posting to AO3. (And/or might do more potential first meetings because there’s so many options and not all of them will lead to them actually being together at that specific moment in time, but it’d be fun…)
Buck sat at the bar, pretending to check his phone while he glanced over at where Josh and his date were sitting. Josh was seemingly having a good time, plus his date was pretty cute, so maybe this would be a win for him. Buck hoped so.
“This seat taken?”
Buck startled and looked over and saw a man—a very attractive man—stood next to him, inclining a hand toward the stool next to him.
Buck shook his head. “N-no. It’s all yours. I mean, if you want it.”
The man smiled and sat down. “Thanks. Just need to wait for my order.”
As he sat down, Buck noticed a logo on the side of this man’s jacket, one that looked incredibly familiar as it was on Buck’s own work clothes.
“Woah. Is that an LAFD jacket? Are you a firefighter?” Buck asked excitedly.
The man smiled. “Yeah. Work at Harbor station now though. Mostly flying planes and helicopters rather than running into any burning buildings.”
“That’s so cool. I’ve always thought being able to fly a plane, like pilot one, would feel like you have super powers,” Buck said. “Does it feel like that?”
“I suppose that’s a good way to look at it,” the man said. “I’m Tommy, by the way.”
“Evan Buckley,” Buck said, reaching out a hand. Tommy shook it, even at the awkward angle since they were sitting so close together. “So when did you learn to fly?”
“A while ago, back when I was in the Army,” Tommy said.
“Have you always been air support for LAFD?” Buck asked.
“No,” Tommy said. “I was on the ground or many years, but just felt like I was missing it. Transferred to Harbor five, six years ago now. I really missed flying so it was a good choice.”
“I bet,” Buck said. “If I could fly, I’d probably never want to be on the ground.”
“Well, I can give you a tour of the place if you’re interested,” Tommy offered kindly. “Show you some of the toys, how things work.”
“That would be awesome,” Buck said. “But I don’t want to trouble you. I mean, you’re just waiting for your food and I’m talking your ear off about work. I-I’m sure the last thing you want to do is talk about your job after just getting off a shift.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Tommy said. “And I could have always ignored you or told you I didn’t want to talk about work if I wanted.”
“I guess,” Buck said. “I forget sometimes that not everyone likes talking about their job.”
“So then I guess I have to ask, what do you do?”
“Oh, um,” Buck rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m a firefighter.”
“No kidding,” Tommy said with a laugh. “Which station?”
“The 118,” Buck said proudly.
“Now you’re fucking with me,” Tommy said. “I transferred to Harbor from the 118.”
“That’s crazy! So you do you know Cap? Captain Bobby Nash?” Buck asked.
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “He was just getting settled there when I transferred.”
“What about Hen? You’ve got to know Chimney. I think he’s been there since it was built.”
Tommy smiled and his nose crinkled and Buck had never seen anything more adorable in his entire life. “Howie and I go way back, from before he was called Chimney. And Hen, she’s one of the best firefighters I’ve ever worked with.”
“They’re the best,” Buck said. “It’s so crazy that you know them too!”
Buck glanced over at Josh again. He’d be furious with himself if he got distracted by this god-like man sitting next to him when his friend needed him. Still seemed to be going well.
“I don’t mean to pry, but I do have to ask,” Tommy started, “You’re not stalking those men, are you?”
Buck whipped his head over to look at him. “What?”
“It’s just, I saw you watching them when I first got here. And now you’re looking over again. Just checking things are… all right,” Tommy said.
Buck felt himself blush a bit because he was the world’s worst undercover wingman. “Okay so one of those guys is my friend, Josh. He’s had some rough luck dating and he was feeling a bit nervous, so I offered to come and hang out at the bar while he was on his date. Just in case anything happened, he’d have back up or whatever he needed.”
Tommy blinked. “You’re giving up your night to sit alone at the bar just in case your friend’s date turned out to be an asshole?”
“Yeah. I guess,” Buck said.
Tommy smiled at him, shaking his head fondly. “That’s really sweet of you.”
“I’m just helping out a friend,” Buck said, feeling uncomfortable. “I’d do it for anyone.”  
Before they could talk any more, a waitress came out with Tommy’s food, stealing his attention. Their chat was less than 10 minutes but Buck felt like he could have spent hours talking with Tommy. He tried not to be annoyed that his food came and he was going to leave—the man had probably just gotten off a shift, probably a twelve or thirty-six hour shift, based on it being night. Tommy deserved to grab his food and then head home to eat and crash.
It didn’t mean that it didn’t suck though. But it’s fine. Buck would go back to checking his phone and keeping an eye out for Josh.
Tommy placed a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Well, it was a delight to bump into you and I enjoyed our conversation. You made the end of a long thirty-six hours speed by as I waited for my food.”
“I’ve been told I do that,” Buck said, completely distracted by the weight of Tommy’s hand on his shoulder.  
Tommy laughed like Buck had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. He removed his hand and smiled. “And I’m serious about giving you a tour if you want.”
“I’d like that,” Buck said. “Um, should I call the station?”
Tommy smiled again and shook his head. “It’ll be easier if you just let me know directly. I can make sure there’s time and be the one to give you the tour.”
Tommy reached down to grab the pen sitting on top of his receipt and then scribbled his number on a napkin. “Take care, Evan.”
Hearing Evan come out of Tommy’s mouth was surprising, but surprising in a good way—in a way that Buck wasn’t going to think much about right now. “Yeah. Yeah. Uh, you too, Tommy. I’ll—I’ll text you.”
“Sounds good.” Tommy grabbed his bag. “Oh, and good luck with the rest of your date.”
With that, Tommy laughed a little and then walked out, leaving Buck sitting there, carefully holding the napkin and wondering exactly what was happening with fate right now. Maybe his luck was turning around.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 days
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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+
Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb
Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.
CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.” And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)
Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!
Chapter 5: Chapter 7: AO3
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Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long. 
  He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?
 Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat. 
  He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever. 
  Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled. 
 You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out. 
  It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn. 
 That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <
  The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated. 
 You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you. 
  You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.
  Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers. 
 It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul. 
  And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.
 Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.
  It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you. 
   He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person. 
  He feels border line delirious and he��s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt. 
   You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again. 
  The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near. 
  The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for. 
  He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.
 At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon. 
  He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks. 
  Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business. 
 For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.
  The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.
What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?
 Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought. 
  Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him. 
 Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.
 What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?
 He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt. 
 He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.
 Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.
 His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay. 
  Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.
 Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted. 
   He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen. 
  His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet. 
  Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.
 “Hey! You can’t just cu-“
 Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.
 “You were saying?”
 “Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”
 A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.
“That’s not what I-“
 “NEXT!”
  Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.” 
 He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality. 
  It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here. 
 “Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?” 
  If you were here? You would have busted up laughing. 
“Young man, my ass!” 
  He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye. 
“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.” 
 “Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”
 “I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. 
  The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.
 Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.
  The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.
 “Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.” 
 Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is. 
 No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart. 
 “Which brother?”
  The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.
 You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death. 
 “His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”
 Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice. 
 Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself. 
  Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.
  The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body. 
 “Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!” 
  A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave. 
  His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.
 Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!” 
 Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books. 
  He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter. 
  Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes. 
  Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster. 
  It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time. 
 He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!
  The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans. 
 The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.
 There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.
 What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half. 
 Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!
 The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.
 Wonderful, just wonderful. 
  Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get. 
  A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him. 
Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster. 
  As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him. 
 Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.  
  A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly. 
  Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics. 
  You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him. 
 “Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?”
  “Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”
 “Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”
  Of course it’s a fucking Lich. 
 “For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.” 
“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.
 Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it. 
 “That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!” 
 It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.
  Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath. 
 You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.
  The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts. 
  Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-
 “NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!” 
   You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you. 
 Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.
 He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.
“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!” 
   Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing. 
  When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.
“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.” 
  And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal. 
  Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process. 
 The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers. 
 “ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”
   He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on. 
   A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.
  He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.
  The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.
 Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.
  The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.
  The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.
  He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t. 
  Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her. 
  He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again. 
  The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea. 
  Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building. 
  The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them. 
 It must have been a horrible 56 hours. 
 Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.
“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”
 The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”
 That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.
 “It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.” 
             *****************************
   It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard. 
  You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days. 
  It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering. 
“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?” 
 You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.
 “He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.
“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”
  Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.
 He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery. 
 But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.
  Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.
 However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.
 Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.
  Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.
 You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while. 
 Anything to make you feel safe again. 
 “I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.
“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“ 
  This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough. 
 Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.
 A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes. 
 “I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.” 
 “What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.
 Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.
“It’s not imp-“
“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!” 
 Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.” 
  “Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.” 
  You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable. 
 “I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”
  He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off.  Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards. 
  Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.
“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.
  Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?
 “What?”
  You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.
  Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.” 
 “Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!” 
 Oh thank Gods.
  Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc. 
  You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”
 Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns. 
 You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite. 
“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”
 “Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”
 You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.
“What is it, my Sweet?”
  He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.
“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”
  Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.
 Pull yourself together.
 “I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”
 “Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”
 “But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.” 
  Gods when did he become such a romantic? 
  You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face. 
“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”
“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”
“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”
“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”
  You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations. 
“Fair.” 
   Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors. 
  Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right. 
  This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you. 
  It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined. 
  You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face. 
 Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.
  Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream. 
  Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.
   He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door. 
 He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened. 
(Smut begins)
 He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.
  Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.
 He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!
  The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely. 
  Wild, passionate- unrehearsed. 
  Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop. 
 “You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”
  Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago. 
   He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.  
  His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak. 
  In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.
  Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately. 
  He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst. 
 Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours. 
(Smut ends)
  He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out. 
 Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.
 His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.
 Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for. 
  He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you. 
  Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.
  After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you. 
  One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.
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Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)
Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper
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aesthetic-uni · 5 months
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I know I’m late to the party but Oh My God™️
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oatbugs · 4 months
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Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship
#saw carnation lily lily rose by john singer seargent irl today. it was basically at my doorstep all along idk why i never went to see it#it was placed at a corner in the gallery. me and my friend sat down and sketched the paintings of beautiful naked people quite badly. paper#provided by tate britain. she told me about how she couldnt look her boyfriend in the face after a harrowing film about war. when i say the#interview was informal i mean the person who was supposed to be my boss told me let me get you a cider and then he said after#50 years of life he knows people are inherently good and it only takes a little bit of kindness to save this world. he said he tricked#his wife into keeping the baby and then he said he quit his job at a US bank to help people find meaning and in it#he would have liked to find meaning. instead he started climbing with his friends. he said he chews his cigarettes because its a habit from#when he had to hide things from people. the entire time i felt uncomfortable and incredibly enlightened. this is my friends mentor. she has#his pattern of pauses and expletive and penchant for ends-justify-means attitude. i do think im not very clever#but maybe one day i will love you enough to make up for it. i wrote code i dont understand staring at the final error i thought about how#we both thought of how when we're too old to remember the voices of our friends we would like to stand in the pathway of the LHC beam pipe#cut it open and eat light in the freezing cold vacuum (kills you long before radiation will) the invisible puncture wound unfolding dna#back to the start larger than you ever were. you go to heaven once youve been to hell. my friend is in my bed#practicing calculations of eigenvectors by hand and she is uninterested in a visual proof you are uninterested in incompetence#we catch a train this is your kind of burden you tragic hero wincing at that word you only do this because you have to. im the only one#who can. i am a coward in this for the fucking poetry. the visual proofs. the pretty numbers. an architect who was horrible at maths wanted#to be a philosopher and accidentally ended up neck in deep in 70th Error On Visual Studio Code i want to kiss your eyes before we say#goodbye we both know there is no love in the way there should be. I still have your dress in my wardrobe. i hope you make art.#you think im alright head-wise i think you fucking hate me i think ill never be so clever you want me to tell you my idea?#if you wanted more of this world i would have liked to kiss you harder. we cant both be like this. im sorry i cant be with you the whole wa#the love is gone if you have to ask it. his breath catches his eyes feel stiff it is -1.9 kelvin he is near the beam pipe i miss holding#his hand i miss her singing voice i miss his hair and i found the antonym of pain thank you for carrying me home.
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mstrchu · 2 years
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big big shoes to fill
#nezha reborn#new gods: nezha reborn#ao bing#art tag#this movie is about... identity...!#ok i know there's some uncertainty surrounding like the actual nature of ao bing's reincarnation#but i personally like to think it was like he was reborn as just a kid and had to grow up again#because i think it creates this seriously fucked up situation where he has his yuan shen his whole life#and obviously he doesn't have the same like. cognitive dissonance issues that li yunxiang has where lyx just talks to his nezha yuan shen#as like a separate entity/person entirely when it's like that is literally just you my guy#(and part of that is probably because for him it's like well I'm a grown man and this soul projection is a Child)#BUT ANYWAY THIS POST ISN'T SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LI YUNXIANG SORRY AS I WAS SAYING#i cant imagine how fucked it would be to grow up with this visible#palpable projection of your adult self that you're supposed to grow up to be because it's who you were in the past#this ideal You that you can see#that simultaneously Is you and is something else entirely#literally always trying to fill your own shoes and to recreate this You#not to mention never being sure if your father loves You and put in all this effort to bring You back#or if he loves and wants back this version of you that existed 3000 years ago#shit's crazy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ive been stewing on this for a minute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#the past 2 weeks have been cray zee but i really wanted to make this..#also excuse to draw baby ao bing.#gonna queue this for tomoz i think
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moregraceful · 5 months
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ARE there any sports rpf fandom-friendly or -adjacent fanartists following me who are taking commissions who are open to doing non-portraiture art? I have a need for very stupid/joyful project that I would like to pay you real human money to put into reality. I don't need it until April so the timeline is fairly fluid. Please dm me 🫡🫡
(I can also pay you in "sending you free shit from California" if exchanging money for fanart is illegal in your area.)
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boxwinebaddie · 4 months
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does ravenstan have his tooth gap filled?!? he better not but i feel like kyle woulda totally noticed by now! ahhh and whats up with chapter 6 D: it was an absolute masterpiece to me!
unfortunately...that's affirmative, darling. :(
when you are a big hotshot celebrity boy and everyone is looking at you, you cannot afford ( ironically ) to have fucked up teeth, so he did have his tooth filled in. or rather, management had his tooth filled in.
& technically, he also is *Supposed* to wear an invisalign at night, but ravenstan forgets the lyrics to his own songs ( granted the recent ones C.D. has released haven't been written by him at all :/ -- that's why they're all shallow, vapid and gimmicky ) so idk how they expect him to remember to put that hunk of Plastic in his mouth like...like the closest thing that man has to mouthwash is a shot of jack smh.
i wrote...way too much in this ask meme. this was a wild ride, i'm sorry for being unhinged. i spiraled halfway through this, lmao. <3
edit: i forgot to bring up chapter six. i will bring it back, mayhaps. i had a Stannic Attack after posting it, also, felt weird about it. but i am glad you liked it. i also...liked it? but it was stressing me out, so just hang in there and i'll try to give you a more in depth answer later xx.
but riiiiip stan's beautiful chipped tooth!!!!! :((( a testament to his love for kyle broflovski via pint-sized homoerotic hockey puck heroism at stark's pond </333 i bet you when raven was getting his tooth fixed, somewhere in nyc, jersey kyle felt a sudden, sharp sting of pain and sorrow he couldn't place. the second he finds out u better believe my man will be screaming, crying, punching the air, trying to fight every dentist in the world. THAT WAS HIS TOOTH. HIS STANS TOOTH!!! :(
management....count your fucking days.
( i kind of want to tell you guys what the record labels name is, but it might say too much but also...;)))) i'll take a compliment bribe >.> )
also because it was RavenStan...it was probably pretty much the best orthodontist they could find and it looks really good. tbh i don't think you would be able to tell that his tooth was fucked up at all...sigh. :/
really, the only evidence of stan's tooth being fucked up is from photo albums ( a lot of them got burnt up ), the polaroids that kyle has, the pictures of him in the sp yearbooks ( which were the ones ran in the papers and one online article when news broke that he died...with his fucking dead name printed under them...choke and die, south park )
speaking of school pictures, fun fact! or actually not that fun...sixth grade was stan's last year of school. physically, at least. he had to do school from home/online because for obvious reasons, stan could not risk going to actual irl school after he disappeared. he was told it was 'way too risky and dangerous, bird' ( the person taking care of him called him that as a nickname c: )...stan did literally Beg tho :(
which is actually really sad bc stan complained abt actual school sm when he was actually allowed to go when he was 'alive' and then was forced to watch every other kid be able to do actual hs stuff while he sat at home, safe, robbed of having a normal adolescence. im so </3
i fucking love act two of the rm!prequel. i want to talk about it more, but it features a lot of stuff we don't know abt it yet/important chars.
not like that's gonna stop me, lmaoooo!!! again! i'll take a bribe! ;))))
anyways!!! back to school and stuff, kenny was constantly like dude i wish i could stay home!!! school sux! and stan was like at least u can GO to school, ken! u just choose not to!!! >:c ( like stan...stfu, do not pretend like u wouldn't be asleep or ditching ) kenny DID sneak him out a lot to go to high school parties and he got into a looooot of trouble for doing that oh my god smh. worth it...my boys, my boys.
not a lot of pictures of him from act two either, i'm afraid. definitely nothing digital. there are physical pictures, home videos, things like that. he wasn't really allowed to have any social media At All 4 safety.
but uh....if you want to hear something really fruity and pathetic...stan was specifically not supposed to use the internet to snoop on kyle. like he was Specifically Banned and Strictly Forbidden from looking up shit about kyle broflovski which...BOOOOO!!! COME ON!!!!!
...that did not stop him tho. he made a looooot of burner accounts to snoop. but like...no such luck, really. kyle had like no social media. he had an instagram, i think. but it was private and had...1 picture on it.
do u know how actualy Nutso Fucking Batshit Insane it made stan to not know what that ONE picture looked like? do you know how many times, he downloaded/redownloaded insta, how many fake accounts he tried to make to try and trick kyle into following him? smh gaywad.
so, dw team! while kyle was in/out of psych wards bc he was seeing stan everywhere, stan was perpetually grounded for being gay aka google searching kyle and looking pretty much everywhere for him.
but speaking of the internet, the cd boys did run a joint meme account while they were living together. no pictures of them just...low quality meme content. BUT SPEAKING!!!!! of low quality. THE ONLY DAMNING EVIDENCE OF TOOTH!STAN!!!! is a super old battle of the bands video that was taken of them at some piece of shit event like 3...4 years ago? the camera quality is really bad and shaky, the sound quality is even worse. also that video has like 57 views TOPS but it was before they got scouted and stans tooth is fucked up in it. ;)
not that u can see it, lmao. or know how to find it because they were not crimson dawn until they got signed. in LA they cycled between a lot of really bad, cringey band names so it would be really difficult to locate that video or pause it in the right place to like barely make out stans tooth bc the light was catching on it sm/it was out of focus.
BUT IDK!!! IF ANYONE IS CRAZY AND UNHINGED ENOUGH TO FIND THAT VIDEO, ITS KYLE BROFLOVSKI, BABEY! GO KYLE GO!
tldr: stan's tooth did get filled in and now our hearts are empty. but it Would be too easy to identify him; kyle would know that tiny fucked up tooth anywhere. tbh the tiny stan right eye beauty mark is also v damning, but stans hair is always in his eyes/his eyeliner is always so badly smudged that you can't see it all the time ( kyle also purposely tries Not to look at raven bc hes dummy Hot and doesnt want to admit it lmao like hes subconciously aware that he would simp lmao )
YOU ALSO REALLY CANT BE LIKE THAT CELEBRITY MAN ALSO HAS A BEAUTY MARK BY HIS EYE, THATS MY DEAD SBF!!!! i would not put it past kyle to try that, but i think regardless he would have gaslight himself into thinking that ravens stan beauty mark was an ugly mark and that he was having clozapine hallucinations again because stan....is....dead and is clearly not raven of c.d. clear...ly. <3
the way that kyles 'psychosis' is just him having really good intuition.
the world owes kyle broflovski an apology, istg. i see you, baby!!!!!
-uncle nina, cassandra complex kyle matthew broflovski apologist
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hella1975 · 1 year
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I'm watching the hunger games with people who's opinions I don't agree with HELP they literally don't get the implications of children murdering eachother like I do
(hella I've been reminded of you all day lol this is my 2nd ask about my day kfmsks)
that's genuinely so sweet i dont think you realise how much i appreciate things like this
oh bleugh i hate it when people just dont get a piece of media and ur just kinda sat there trying not to rant like 'you're all missing the fucking POINT'
#and the hunger games too? id be furious#something similar happened to me recently#okay so im very ashamed by this considering the fuss i kicked up about it but i CANNOT resist a show with dragons in it#so i eventually pirated all of house of the dragon and low and behold#youd have some of the most detailed worldbuilding ever and beautiful dragons and a ginormous budget for a fantasty world#and youd be enjoying it and then BOOM violence against women for literally no reason#it bugs the fuckkkk out of me but at least hotd has HUGE wlw undertones and the two main characters are actually women#and are COMPLEX? im not giving any compliments for this bc it's just not good enough but still it wasnt as awful as it has been#(*Looks at game of thrones*)#AND ANYWAY there's this woman in it called alicent hightower when i tell you i will defend her with my LIFE#and it's the typical 'female character made strong due to the trauma inflicted upon her by men'#and she is literally torn from her closest female friendship (love interest?) BECAUSE of men#and it becomes the ENTIRE FUCKING PLOT OF THE SHOW god it bugs me anyway#and it's made me superrrrrrrr protective of her bc not only do i adore her but she deserves so much better#like she's supposed to be the villain and the fandom are so thick that they treat her that way but im just like alicent get behind me#AND MY SISTER SAID SHE HATES HER#LIKE WE WERE TALKING ABOUT THE SHOW AND MY SISTER JUST OUTRIGHT SAID SHE HATES ALICENT#I WAS LIKE NO YOU STUPID BITCH THIS IS WHAT THE MEN WANT ARE YOU JOKING YOU'RE FEEDING INTO IT#and i didnt know how to EXPLAIN to her why she was so wrong so im just there like why am i always right about everything#and everyone else is always so stupid why why why god im not you're strongest soldier#so yeah <3#ask
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pepprs · 2 years
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meant to post abt this yesterday and ik it’s kinda mean but i think the counselor i have rn is the worst one ive ever had possibly even worse than (or tied w) the one i had over the summer who kept ending our sessions well before the full hour was up when i was going thru a horrible time and kept spending the sessions mostly talking abt herself and her own problems. actually no now that i write that out she was probably the worst (though she was one of the warmest / nicest and our personalities meshedreally well so i feel bad saying that she was the worst). but the one i have now is so…. lke idk. my experience w the worst counselor made me rly want to work w a clinical intern again bc i wanted someone who would like. actuallytake things seriously and give me the time i was paying for and spend all of it talki ng abt the things i was paying to talk abt and draw from the most recent / cutting edge info instead of entirely personal experience (WHICH AGAIN I FEEL SO BAD ABT BECAUSE. my work is all abt healing each other by sharing things like that and i realt did like her but it just wasn’t appropriate i guess bc it was a counseling relationship!) but my current counselor is so… rigid and restrictive. like i think he is trying too hard to apply what he’s being taught and he seems like nervous and talking out of his ass and he masks that by taking up SO much space and spending like 3 minutes responding to every one minute i talk and literally like strongarmimg the convos and deciding what we’re going to talk about and moving us on to a new topic abruptly before i feel ready to move on and like taking time out of our sessions to do paperwork / admin stuff so he doesn’t forget later (and a lot of the time i think he’s doing it while im talking bc i see his eyes moving around his screen and the light on his face like he’s not even listening to me). and it fucking sucks. i want to crack him like an egg so bad and make him realize it doesn’t have to be this way but i know that’s not my responsibility and in our session last night i basically gave up trying to create enough space for myself and just let him steer things bc i was having side effects and it was just rly unsatisfying
#purrs#i know it is entirely within my right to address these things both for my sake and for his / his future clients but im so scared lol like i#don’t want to tell him he’s doing a bad job and making it hard for me to navigate but literally when you keep steamrolling and silencing me#and cutting me off and forcing me around… yeah. also he has to record our sessions and show them to his profs / supervisors and it’s so like#idk. ive been recorded in sessions before and im totally fine w it but there’s 2 things abt this specific instance of it thst distress and#annoy me. 1) when we sign on to our session he says like 2 things to me then starts the recording and is TOTALLY fake and forcing it like#hello tess welcome to our session and he’ll repeat some of the stuff he said but in a more like.. extensive way so it just feels rly fake#to me lol. WHICH ALSO REMINDS ME 1.5) not related to the recording but every time he asks me questions he asks like… 3 questions but doesn’t#give me space to answer the two like it’s just a bridge for him as he&/ working his way to the thing he actually wants to ask me and i#fucking hate when ppl ask me questions and then answer them themselves or like don’t want to hear the answer. i had 2 profs like that in#brighton and it fucking pissed me offff so being around someone who does that again is rly agitating ik it’s just a nervous habit but yeah.#and 2) i am kinda concerned that none of my counselors profs or supervisors have seemed to call him on how he doesn’t give me space or let#me guide the convo. like idk maybe it’s just that all of my counselors before him were too loose w me but i feel like it s not supposed to f#feel this rigid and i am kinda scared abt the implications of no one actually watching these recordings and see how i try to speak but he#almost always talks over me and i just give up. lol. i like him he’s a nice person i just think he’s nervous and trying too hard and it#would be passable for like.. the little kid clients who usually go there but it doesn’t feel good for me a 23 year old who has had like what#6 counselors before him all of whom gave me space and didn’t shove me around. i miss the counselors i had from oct 2020 - jul 2021 and sept#2021 - feb 2022 they were the best ever and i am inches away from terminating here and just trying to go to wherever they are full time now#and working w them again bc they rly got me and i didn’t know how good i had it lol. i guess i don’t need someone as good anymore bc things#in my life are objectively better than they were during those times but my mental health is still bad so i would uhhh… like someone good#and don’t think that’s too much to ask and need to get it into my head that i CAN ask it. ok rant over#*no one actually watching the recordings has seen / pointed out to him how he steamrolls me etc etc
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xcziel · 2 years
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#i am going to a referral to have someone look at my blood work#they sent me a dozen pages of paperwork to fill out and want me to bring my will and power of attorney#neither of which do i actually have written out and i am not going to try to put together in just a few days?#it is a consultation#like ok if i were going into the hospital but literally he's supposed to look at my blood cell count#there's not any point where they need to see my legal paperwork?#like medical history ok i understand and i understand wanting to know my medications#but i'm not disrupting my entire life for a consult that may not even be relevant?#like my referring doctor is just guessing at things now she has no idea what's going on#gonna call them and be like sorry i'm not trying to find a lawyer and draw up paperwork in a week while also working#i don't think it's even legal to ask to see someone's will? like what the fuck?#my parent's were being treated for stuff and we had to dig the wills out of my dad's files#nether one had an official power of attorney filed i don't think or medical power of attorney#like how is that your business when i haven't even met the doctor yet and may not even want to deal with your practice?#this thing where medical practitioners just assume you're going to go along with whatever they say is really irksome#like the ct scan place they're like you might be going straight to the hospital if your doctor says so#when at no time was i ever warned or given intimations that that was a possibility?#like what if i had plans? or a pet or a kid? like you have to let people know about things ahead of time?#especially if it's not an emergency?
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marklikely · 2 years
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getting annoyed at all the people i keep seeing saying no omg halloween ends was so good because they tried something new and im like yeah ok but did literally any of the stuff they tried actually turn out good? no.
#it didnt even do the bare minimum of creating a coherent whole smh. let alone being good i very nearly did walk out entirely.#like ok playing with the idea that your environment can be what pushes you to do evil instead of you being Inherently Bad#and the idea that like. michael myers isnt some all encompassing evil he's just one of many people out there who do bad things#great i get it. fine#but then they just throw it in the trash by being like actually no corey just is an evil person now. hes got bad vibes.#and then he (spoilers) and his entire story just like. doesnt even get brought up again now its a movie abt killing michael for 20 minutes#like ok . so now michael is the ultimate evil of haddonfield again and we all funeral march together to kill him. sure.#i guess fuck what the other 80 minutes of this movie were about.#like we get a limp line abt how evil never dies it just changes shape but like. they literally did kill both the evils & haddonfield's fine#i dont even think corey or anything about him specifically ever gets brought up again. for the entire last bit of the movie.#and we make zero moves to like address... what happened to create the evil scarecrow man at all. its just like well michaels dead we win.#plus whatever they were trying to do with laurie's entire character just made NO sense.#shes fine now she's healed from her trauma but now people are mad at her because she 'provoked' michael??#when last movie we quite literally established that she didnt and he wasn't even here to look for her. he does not care abt that woman.#and then her granddaughter being like YOURE SO OBSESSED WITH DEATH YOU WANT EVERYONE AS MISERABLE AS YOU#when like??? laurie isn't even miserable in this movie she's post therapy and doing pretty well and enjoying her fucking life??#so now everyone is just like. projecting this image onto laurie that we know is provably false but its never addressed#its not like . 'wow people project an ideal onto victims of trauma but its not true'. like i think we are supposed to agree w these people.#or at the very least if we dont agree we're supposed to be like wow that was deep they might have a point.#they just like. say they hate her for being obsessed with her trauma when she isn't anymore and then it never comes back up#and the way they all forgive her is her fighting michael but like thats what she did in 2018 isnt that why you're mad at her????#and dont get me started on all the fake deep dialogue and monologues or the weird forced love story so they could hook the wattpad crowd.#but like the overall movie there are some ideas that are actually really good and exactly what i'd want in a halloween finale#and they just like . execute literally all of them in the worst possible way .#movie diary
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aftermathing · 1 year
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#I think I might be a sociopath. Like genuinely.#Or is it just the autism:(#One time I was like 'i am sad that everyone seems to enjoy me but no one ever wants to be my friend or want me around outside of required#hours like class or work or whatever'#And the person replied 'that's just being autistic' like thanks. Glad to know no one will ever like me or want to be my friend#Ever. Because of a thing in my brain that I cannot control and do not understand#Nothing ever feels good for longer than two minutes and I have never had more than one friend at any given time#I have only ever had acquaintances ie people I know but would never interact w me outside of class or work#Even if we were entirely compatible people#My college freshman cousin has a 30+ ppl friend group like#Like I am fun and bubbly and always joking and laughing irl!!! Is it too much?????? Do I unsettle people? Am i annoying? Is it the autism?#Am I just an idiot. Am I not classifying 'friend' right.#Man I need help and no one has helped me even when I begged for it :(#When you text your friend 'i am about to commit suicide can I please come over' you're supposed to be allowed over right#Or when you say 'yeah I don't know if you understood that text that night I told you that because I was about to commit suicide'#They're supposed to help you then right#I didn't say it in such aggressive terms but fucking god#At least the disappointment of not getting a text back pulls me out of my anguish at having a shitty brain and a sucky life#I FANTASIZE about being asked if I'm okay!!! I make up scenarios where someone asks how I'm doing and means it!!! That's not normal!!!!#Please care about me I know it's a lot to ask#Do NOT send me an ask saying 'r u ok' like that one time like two years ago that made me feel worse thanks.#You care so much you can't even add two more letters to make even one complete word even that is wasted effort when it comes to me :((#God it sucks so much having never been loved or wanted in any capacity#Is friendship even a real thing that exists. Do people actually like and want each other around. Do people hug. Is that real.
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
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synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
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word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
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everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.
you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”
“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”
“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”
“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”
“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”
“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”
“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”
“sure,” he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”
“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”
“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”
you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.
—————
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.
“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”
it’s way too early for this.
by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.
that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.
“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”
“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”
“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”
satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.
this is…new. very, very new.
“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”
“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.
you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.
“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”
“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”
“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”
“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
—————
the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over when—
“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”
“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.
“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.
“do you still throw away the ends of these?”
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”
“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 
“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”
“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
“yeah, as if.”
“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.
ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 
“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”
yeah. very snobby.
“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”
“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”
“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”
“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”
“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”
“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”
it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.
“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”
“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”
“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”
“i know you’re not talking—”
“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.
“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”
“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”
“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”
“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”
“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”
“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.
—————
satoru meets you when you’re six. 
he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 
somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 
he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.
so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 
your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 
“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 
it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.
“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 
it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 
“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 
fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 
“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”
and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.
he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 
it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?
——
“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”
“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 
oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 
“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”
“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”
“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”
“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”
“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”
satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.
—————
it’s night four. 
satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 
he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 
scarily handsome, in fact. 
you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.
“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”
“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 
“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”
“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”
“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”
“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 
“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”
“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.
“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 
you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 
“how would you know—”
“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”
“he was hot—”
“yeah? and i’m not?”
he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 
“satoru, what are you—”
“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”
“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.
it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 
“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”
and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 
so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 
“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”
“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”
“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 
“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 
“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”
“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”
“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 
“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”
that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”
“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 
you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 
“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 
satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 
it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 
“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”
so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 
“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”
“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”
“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”
“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”
“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”
“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 
the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 
you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.
“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”
“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 
it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 
“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”
“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 
“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.
fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”
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do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
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