#Defence Tender

[defencestar]

India awards defence contracts worth $469.5 million to local defence companies

Self-reliance in defence: In a significant boost to the local defence and aerospace companies under Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Make in India initiative, the Ministry of Defence (MoD) signed five major capital acquisition contracts worth $469.5 million on Friday (March 1, 2024) in New Delhi. The contracts were exchanged in the presence of defence minister Rajnath Singh and Defence Secretary…

[jobskenyaplace]

LIFE CYCLE REPLACEMENT OF 2 NO. 350KVA PRIME GENERATORS, OSS A, NYATI BARRACKS

UNITED KINGDOM MINISTRY OF DEFENCE TENDER AUGUST 2024  EXPRESSION OF INTEREST FOR ITT KEN/GE/2401 – LIFE CYCLE REPLACEMENT OF 2 NO. 350KVA PRIME GENERATORS, OSS A, NYATI BARRACKS The UK MOD hereby invites Tenderers to submit an Expression of Interest [EOI] in receiving an Invitation to Tender [ITT] for replacement of two 35OkVA generators at DSS A, Nyati Barracks. The task includes supply,…

[sunsburns]

been thinking about dating college!art and you get into a really big fight until he decides to show up at your dorm *cough* make up sex *cough*

i had wayy too much fun with this… SMUT 17+

“i’m still mad at you, you know.” there’s no real bite to your bark, not when your voice is breathless, your cheeks are flushed, and your hands keep running through his hair.

“yeah, i know,” art drawls, his voice softening. he says it because a part of him knows it’s true, but he can’t help the faint smile that grows on his face. he knows you won’t stay mad for long, but he still feels the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. he’d do anything to make it up to you. with every press of his lips, he mutters a quiet “i’m sorry,” against your skin, then grazes his teeth along your ankle before making his way up your leg.

he’d thought of a million different things to say to you, how he would stand his ground or cave to your defences. but all of it was thrown out the window the moment you opened that door. you were wearing his shirt—or maybe it was patrick’s, maybe even tashi’s—and a pair of panties. the sight of your messy desk, covered in textbooks, notebooks, and your open laptop, reminded him you were doing homework, or trying to. but the ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him was overwhelming.

it was killing him knowing you were upset, and he was the cause of it. that’s why art had taken a trip to the nearest farmer’s market the moment he was off the court, and he bought you flowers and your favourite snack and knocked on your door.

now the flowers are forgotten by your desk, the snacks on the floor, and you’re still trying to keep up the act that you’re mad at art. but the truth is, you can’t even remember what you were mad at him about in the first place. 

the way he looks at you, with such earnest remorse and tenderness, makes it hard to hold onto your anger. you sigh, running your fingers through his hair again, feeling the tension between you start to melt away.

“i hate how you do this to me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. art’s eyes meet yours, and he pauses, his lips hovering just above your knee.

“i know,” he says again, his voice filled with a mix of regret and hope. his hands roam up the sides of your thighs, fingers brushing your ass before they turn into the curve between your legs. “but i’m here now,” he presses a kiss against your hot skin again, making his way up, up, and up. “and i want to make it right.”

as he continues his gentle kisses, moving slowly and tenderly, you feel your defences crumbling. the anger that once felt so strong is now just a distant memory. art’s presence, his touch, his voice, his words, all of him- it’s all you can think about.

he looks up at you, sitting on the bed while he kneels before you. you’re watching him, waiting for his next move when he is still between your legs. 

when you run your nails against his scalp, art doesn't bother hiding the quiet whimper that slips past his lips before he closes his eyes and leans his head towards your arm. 

he lets you hold him while his hands trail up your sides, reaching and groping anything he can before his fingers tug at your panties, and he carefully slips them off you.

when he kisses your clit, you rest your leg over his shoulder, heel pressing against the muscles of his back. his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer while he starts to eat you out. 

art starts slow, calculated strokes of his tongue against you, running it in tight circles against your clit, dipping it lower when he gets a little more confident. when you arch your back and whine, pushing his head closer so you can ride his face, he starts to pick up the pace, hoping to hear that sound come out of you again.

when his tongue pokes at your cunt, it draws a loud moan out of you, blood rushing to your ears. “fuck, art,” you whimper, grinding against his face. “feels so good.”

art seems to like it more than you, eyes closed in bliss, humming and moaning against your cunt, each vibration from his mouth making you spiral. his hips buck up into nothing, but he doesn't seem to mind as his hands hold onto you tighter, as if he is afraid to lose you. 

“you’re so pretty like this,” you barely manage to get out, your heart thumping against your chest.

art moans again at your praise and finally opens his eyes to meet your burning gaze. his low, nearly pathetic whine with his eyes on you was what it took to push you over the edge.

art lets you ride it out, he lets you grind against his face, he lets you use him again and again and again until you’ve had your fill and there is nothing left of him.

and when you cup his cheeks and bring his face to yours and kiss him like you have a one-track mind, he has an inkling feeling that you're not mad at him anymore. you press your forehead against his, hand cupping the back of his neck, and he lets out a sigh and you breathe it in. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, one more time, to make sure you know he means it.

you smile, offering him half a shrug and another kiss. “just let me return the favour.”

[pastryfication]

Can you please do one with shy!reader x Oscar? Reader has chronic pain, but hates asking for help with things, especially simple things (showering, eating, changing, etc)

Ignore if you're not comfortable with this request ❤️

hi thank you so much for the request! i hope it reaches your expectations 🫶🫶

chronic pain | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader

warnings: mentions of chronic pain.

the bathroom was warm and misty, the scent of your favourite body wash mingling with the steam rising from the hot shower. you had managed to get undressed and into the shower on your own, a small triumph on a day where the pain was especially relentless.

as you stood under the shower head, the water cascaded over your shoulders, providing a fleeting sense of relief. you leaned against the wall, trying to muster the strength to continue. the stabbing pain in your back wasn’t about to ruin your day once again, you were adamant about that, but your legs felt like jelly, and your hands started to tremble with fatigue.

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. in an attempt to reach for the soap, your grip faltered, and it slipped from your fingers, hitting the tiled floor with a loud clatter. panic surged through you as you realized you couldn't bend down to retrieve it. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make yourself bend down to pick it up.

the sound of the soap hitting the floor must have echoed through the apartment, because moments later, you heard the soft knock on the bathroom door.

"baby? are you okay in there?" oscar’s voice was gentle, but concern laced his words. you hated that he had to worry about you, hated that you had to rely on him for help with the simplest things. but today, the pain was unbearable.

"i’m fine," you called back, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out weak and unconvincing. you hoped he wouldn't press further, but you knew oscar better than that.

the door creaked open, and through the steam, you saw his silhouette. he hesitated at the threshold, respecting your privacy but unwilling to leave you struggling. "are you sure? i think i heard something fall."

you sighed inaudible, feeling the weight of your pride and embarrassment. "i just . . . i dropped the soap. i can get it. just give me a minute."

oscar stepped closer, slowly moving aside the shower curtain to get a full view of you, and his gaze softened when he saw your strained expression. "love, it's okay to need help. let me."

his voice was soothing, filled with unwavering support, but you shook your head, stubbornness mingling with your discomfort. "oscar, i don't want to be a burden. i can do it."

he knelt beside the tub, his presence reassuring and calm as he gave you a gentle smile. "you could never be a burden to me, love. i'm happy to help, however you need."

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of frustration and gratitude. "i just feel so . . . useless sometimes."

oscar frowned at your words, his hand reaching out and gently taking your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "you're not useless. you're strong, and dealing with this pain every day takes so much courage. but even the strongest people need help sometimes. let me be here for you."

you hesitated, the vulnerability of accepting his help weighing heavily on you, but the sincerity in his eyes broke through your defences. slowly, you nodded, allowing him to assist you.

oscar carefully guided you to sit on the edge of the tub, then picked up the soap and lathered it between his hands. with tender care, he began washing your back, his touch light and comforting. you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for the first time that day.

as he helped you rinse off, his gentle words filled the space. "i'm always here for you. no matter what. so please, ask me for help next time?"

you hesitated for a moment before nodding, agreeing to his words. maybe asking him for help wasn’t the worst idea when the feeling of his tender touch against your skin was so comforting. maybe you could allow him to help a bit more if it meant sharing intimate moments like these.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #22

22. Deepthroating // Thigh Riding or Fucking // Choking (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

Logan, to his credit, isn’t saying a goddamn word. Just watching you both, relaxed back into the couch, cigar smouldering slowly in one hand as he spreads his thighs. There’s that half-smirk he lets slip when something is really working for him, eyes dark with desire as you and Wade are at work.

Oh, and how you are at work.

Usually when you and Wade team up you’re able to break down Logan’s walls, twinned smiles and batted lashes crumbling his defences until he’s giving in to your advances. Not that it’s ever anything but consensual, of course, nobody could make Logan do anything he didn’t want to — but he secretly enjoys the game of it as much as the both of you do, of rolling his eyes and falling into bed.

However, this time when you’d both started kissing along his neck, reaching under his shirt, he’d pushed you both away.

“Game’s on,” he’d said, gesturing to the hockey on the TV.

“But honey badger, if we don’t fuck you we’ll die. Can you live with that on your conscience?” Wade had whined. Logan had rolled his eyes and then spread his legs, patting his jean-clad thighs.

“Fine. If the two of you are that desperate, hop on. Just don’t block the screen.”

So, with a twinned look of well I’m up for it if you are, you both had. 

Your cunt is desperately wet as you drag yourself up and down Logan’s thigh. You’re glad that the leggings you put on this morning don’t offer much of a barrier between you and him, your clit catching on the roughness of the fabric and sending a wave of pleasure through you. You shoot a look over to Wade who’s dropped his head to Logan’s shoulder as he thrusts, his cock leaving a damp patch while it’s trapped in his grey sweatpants. The look of it is delicious and though you’re tempted to reach over and touch Wade, you think Logan wants you both concentrated on him. 

And that’s absolutely goddamn fine. 

Logan reaches to the ashtray he’s resting on the sofa to stub out the butt of his cigar, and then you feel warmth at your back as he lays a hand on the base of your spine. He does the same to Wade with his other, holding you both close as you drag yourselves up and down the meat of his thighs. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture compared to the filthiness of what’s happening.

“That’s it,” he rumbles to neither one of you in particular, but the sentiment still eked deep from his chest, sweet and caring. “Take what you need. I’ve got you both.”

“Holy shit, peanut. Have you always been this dirty, just holding out on us…?” mutters Wade as his hips speed up, utterly entranced at the way Logan can be so casual with his filthy mouth. You cling onto his flannel and, when a little whine escapes you, you see Logan grab the remote and turn the volume down so he can hear the symphony you and Wade make even better.

“We’re all yours, Logan,” you whisper, dragging your lips over the shell of his ear. He chuckles and oh, you could hear that sound forever and ever.

“I know, baby, I know. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[elysiansparadise]

Composite chart observations 4

🤎Moon either ruling 2nd, 4th or 7th house makes both of you constantly want each other's presence. They need to be close to each other many times, and only the presence of the other is enough to make them feel better. They may perceive the presence of the other as soothing, relaxing or very comfortable, lowering their defences and being more expressive and receptive of love and affection. There is a feeling of being at home, of being safe and of feeling mutually protected and loved. This desire to care for and support others naturally arises from them.

🤎When Mars or Pluto rules the 11th house shows a strong sense of complicity. They are the kind of duo that live exciting, fun or crazy experiences in some cases and get each other's back no matter what. There is a lot of loyalty between you and, even if you are not very verbal or communicative with your appreciation, you will know that the other person values ​​and appreciates you very much. They will not hesitate to jump to defend the other from whoever or whatever. It can be like 'I can mess with you, but nobody else can't', because this duo does it playfully and will not tolerate another person doing something, even the smallest thing to attack or hurt the other.

🤎With Mercury in water signs [Cancer, Scorpio & Pisces] or houses [4th, 8th or 12th] you may both feel that it is easier to talk about your emotions and open up to the other person. They may share things they have never done before with others and feel that they can be truly vulnerable with each other. This duo may prefer personal and in-depth conversations rather than small talk or talking about things that are very mundane for them. It will be easy for them to get lost for a long time in conversations with each other.

🤎When the Ruler of the 1st house is placed in the 8th house or vice versa, this relationship is characterised by being very strong and lasting. They can experience many intense things and stay by each other's side regardless. Both will know the dark sides of the other and that will not stop them from appreciating, loving or respecting each other. It is also very common in those couples that, although it is difficult for them to open up and trust others, they see in the other someone they can fully trust and who will always keep their secrets.

🤎Jupiter in Leo is one of the most beautiful placements to have here. Both people will mutually encourage the other to be themselves and love or even admire the other's true personality. Moments of fun, lightheartedness and genuine joy in sharing moments together. There can be playful banters and drama, both parties will keep things interesting for the other party. They will make the other feel more enthusiastic and self-confident. Furthermore, what I consider most wonderful about this placement is that they will seek to contribute positively to the other's life, doing many things to maintain their happiness or create beautiful moments especially for them. the other.

🤎Saturn or Pluto in the 3rd house make both of you feel like you can talk about many topics no matter how difficult they are. These couples, friends or colleagues do not shy away from difficult conversations and can have an easier time understanding the other's point and making them feel heard when they share their most personal experiences or opinions.

🤎When the ruler of the 7th is in the 4th or vice versa, both of you will be able to connect on a very strong emotional level. They will instinctively understand what the other needs to feel comfortable and no emotion will be hard for the other to process. This is a relationship in which both seek comfort and mutual understanding, there is a deep love between you and a tendency to pamper and spoil the other, being able to easily be the other's soft spot. They awaken the tenderness and affection of the other.

🤎The best placements for Saturn are in their domicile houses, that is 10th and 11th house. This is because both placements are great indicators of long-term planning, both see the relationship as something they want to maintain over time, in addition, something in which they will not hesitate to invest time and energy. They find value in this bond with the other person by finding them as someone suitable, someone who easily makes them feel worth trying.

🤎When the ruler of the 5th house is placed in the 2nd or 4th house, it is very likely that they will enjoy more calm, intimate and homely plans. From watching movies together, cooking at home or doing sleepovers. They will enjoy meetings in which there are only the two of them to get to know each other better, to learn more about each other. They have a deep desire and taste for intimacy with others, especially emotional, from talking about the past, their emotions or things in which they find a lot of value. They can be naturally very touchy and caring with each other.

🤎Venus either ruling 6th or 12th house can tell us that the love language of both is acts of service. Both will always try to help the other, whether it is finishing tasks or dealing with a lot of emotional and work/academic burdens. They enjoy and find pleasure knowing that they can make others feel better or more relaxed. They will seek to do small actions that make the other feel more comfortable and happy.

🤎When Venus is ruling 2nd or 10th house it means that, although they are not very verbally expressive, both prefer to show their love and affection through actions, gifts, or more tangible things. Both people will take small and practical actions that lead to improving the relationship. They will have gestures such as asking about each other's boundaries, what they like, what they value most in relationships [whether romantic or friendly] and they will always cherish each one of them. They are even likely to value the same things in a relationship, which makes for a long-lasting and strong bond.

🤎Saturn in the 8th or 12th house tells us about a couple who has individually experienced hardships and find it difficult to trust other people. However, in this relationship both can manage to open up to each other and work together to create a relationship in which they accompany the other in their most difficult moments, being a reliable pillar of great strength and reliability. There's mutual support and a desire to be caring towards the other, even if it's in a subtle way.

🤎When there is a stellium in the 9th house this couple can motivate each other and be a great teacher for each other. There is a feeling that together they grow a lot and that they have a partner at their side who fills their lives with fun and meaningful lessons or experiences. They may feel that the person is everything they ever wanted or that they somehow "manifested" the other.

🤎When Jupiter is in the 10th house, they both always push each other to go for more and achieve great things. They make each other feel capable of achieving many things, they make each other feel confident about their potential and abilities. They talk a lot about each other with other people and tend to praise them behind their backs, which greatly improves their reputation.

🤎Cancer Saturn/Saturn in the 4th house can help you create a long-lasting relationship in which you support each other. It is very likely that you will have issues opening up and showing your emotions or even talking about your emotional needs, but you can have the patience to support the other person speaking, which can be a very practical way to build trust in yourself. They do not take each other for granted, because they know how difficult it is to trust and be vulnerable.

🤎Pluto in the 8th house tells us that both can change each other's lives at great levels. You will live many moments of epiphanies and realisations, many things that you thought were usual or normal, you will soon begin to see that they are not and they can help you change a lot for the better. This placement represents the union of two people who have experienced many difficult or tense things throughout their lives, who are willing to provide strength and support to the other to face any adversity. Likewise, they can be very drawn to others without being aware of why.

<- Go back to the masterlist

[diejager]

I need to add something to the request I put in

(totes okay if you don’t accept this)

bunny hybrid probs has to deal with a lot of racism because most think they’re just breeders and stuff, so reader has gone as far as to swear they’ll never become a breeder (which is fucking hard not to with soap around lmao)

~🧋

Cw: sexism?, racism/xenophobia?, non-con touching, soap being horny, tell me if I missed any.

Despite wanting to fight for your cause, you knew there wasn’t anything you could give - excuse - to reason your biting, the lingering taste of spoiled and rotten blood on the back of your throat and the stains of red on your lips were a constant reminder of your aggression. You knew Price wouldn’t fault you for lashing back at them, insulting and disgusting pigs whose eyesight went as far as the end of their noses, with an ego so high up their arse that they couldn’t differentiate a softer and domestic rabbit to a hardened and trained one. 

It felt degrading, being constantly reminded that you could’ve been a small breeder, a broodmare to another mate, forgoing your person for a duty others seemed to have filled. The world didn’t need more bunnies than it already had. It didn’t help that you were softer than them, wider hips, tender skin and rounder curves, charmingly feminine despite the rough material of your fatigues or your growls and snarls. They’d often ignore your hisses when their hands lingered, ignoring the signs of aggression because what- bunnies weren’t inherently aggressive? You fought, you bled and you killed, so how would biting and clawing be any different?

But Price wasn’t proud of your manner of escape —self-defence, anger issues, rage, whichever word he used. He grumbled lowly, placing down his precious hat to fist at his hair, the gleaming silver strands a physical reminder of the stress and pressure he lived when he had you all under his care. A dedicated leader. An empathetic friend. A good captain. A loving man. He was all and more, but there were things even he couldn’t do, and the constant complaints and reports on your “biting problem” was souring his bitter tea. 

“Biting won’t do any good,” he mumbled your name in slight disappointment, sighing at your sudden pout, ears drooping sorrowfully.

“I know, but they keep saying things,” your snarled, fisting the fabric of your pants, “These p- men keep touching me and Soap isn’t hel-”

“Helping you with all the times he’s pulled you into his room or a closet. I’m aware,” he breathed out a puff of smoke, rolling his head back with a satisfied feel of ash and tabacco, “I’ll remind him to be mindful.”

You flashed him a grateful smile, small but happy, shoulders slumping lighting at the small respite Price had given you. It might not be a fix-it-all, but it would mellow down the on-going rumours of you being both a bunny hybrid and a barracks bunny —however insulting and debasing that was. 

“Now, onto the actual issue,” you were keenly aware of his hand, running along the seams of his beard and against his lips, “Reckon they’d enjoy longer drills.”

You couldn’t help the grin that curled your lips into a cruel smirk, teeth flashing at your captain’s planned punishment. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[aeralux]

"Pretty When You Cry" - Jacaerys Velaryon

Modern!Jace x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Like all good things, your relationship with your boyfriend, Jacaerys, must come to a (bitter) end. You always knew he was 'trouble', but his turning to stronger substances was the final straw for you. Thinking you have seen the last of him, you slowly start to let go. Until one evening, a sad brown-eyed boy stands under your window.

Warnings: badboy!Jace; SMUT; alludes to smoking weed; substance abuse (very light, not detailed); bad language; fingering; slight angst; FLUFFY

Words: 9.7k

Notes: No physical description of the reader (other than she has hair). This smut is way softer compared to my others, but I kinda like it. Mentions them smoking weed together (once), but it doesn't mean I condone it (it just fits into the story).

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

You were a cold person—a real fortress of ice (or, in other words, a 'bitch'). Always had been. Keeping outsiders at arm’s length was second nature to you; the warmth of companionship felt unfamiliar and unwelcome. That’s why it was so damn weird when Jacaerys, that threat of a guy, somehow crept his way past your defences and cracked the surface of your rigid heart.

Everyone knew Jace was trouble. He was dressed in a leather jacket, had wild hair, and had a charming smile. He thrived on chaos, making a mess of everything and everyone he encountered.

But with you, it was different. There was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness amidst all that hostility. You’d find yourselves huddled in the shadows of the school, sharing cigarettes like secrets, each drag pulling you deeper into his messy orbit. Weekends melted into hazy afternoons spent sprawled on his couch, escaping reality with thick clouds of smoke, giggles spilling from your lips as you blissfully ignored the ticking clock.

But like all sweet things, that honeymoon phase didn’t last. Soon, the thrill of getting high on weed wasn't enough for Jace; he craved something stronger, something that could drown the demons clawing at his insides. That’s when he started craving cocaine, seeking out dealers and new highs, convinced the world would be brighter on the other side. But it took only one wrong turn; one bad choice. He got caught, his friend’s betrayal cutting deeper than any blade when they ratted him out.

The weight of that reality crashed down on you like a ton of bricks. Breaking it off was like tearing flesh from bone, but staying was not an option. You couldn’t tether your soul to a sinking ship. You felt hollow, your heart twisting painfully in your chest as you abandoned the love you once thought could save him. Sure, it hurt like hell, but you understood that you had to protect yourself. You had your own battles to fight, and getting lost in his darkness would only bury you in the ruins of his choices.

With a weary sigh, you flopped onto your bed, staring at old photos that felt like ghosts from another life. Each smile captured in those pictures stung with nostalgia—memories now laced with an ache that wouldn’t fade. You scrolled through them, pain blossoming in your chest as you clicked delete, one after another, feeling like pieces of yourself were vanishing along with them.

Just as silence threatened to suffocate the room, it shattered with a sharp ping against your window. Irritated, you shot up, heart racing. Those pesky crows made trouble every night, and here they were again. But then another pebble hit, and again—this was getting ridiculous. Who the hell was out there? It was nearly midnight, for crying out loud.

“Oh my God!” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you yanked open the window. A pebble narrowly missed your head, landing with a soft thud on your bed. “Stop! I have a bat! And trust me, I will use it if I have to!” Your voice carried a tinge of annoyance but an undertone of curiosity behind your words.

“Wait! No! I’m sorry, just listen to me,” came the soft, pleading voice that made your heart stutter. You froze, disbelief crashing over you like a wave. It was Jacaerys, and you hadn’t heard that voice in months—months that felt like an eternity. His parents had sent him to an inpatient treatment centre outside the city.

Your mouth hung open, breath hitching in your throat. “Jace…” you whispered, a flood of emotions washing over you. “You’re back.” The simple words felt loaded, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken between you two—the love, the hurt, the wreckage of what once was.

Everything you thought you had pushed away surged back up, a mix of joy, anger, and longing swirling like a violent storm inside you. Your heart raced with uncertainty, the possibility of fresh pain coursing through your veins. You stood there, teetering on the edge, wondering if this moment would lead you back to paradise or into the depths of despair.

"Can I come up?" His voice was soft and hesitant, a stark contrast to the insolence you used to know. It felt foreign, almost shaky, and it sent a wave of tension crashing over you. You paused, biting your lip as a million questions swirled in your mind. Had he changed, or was this just a façade? But deep down, you could no longer deny it—the way your heart betrayed you, ached with longing for the boy you once knew.

“Yeah, yeah… sure,” you managed to whisper, your voice so faint it was almost lost to the night. The moment the words escaped your lips, you felt a rush of adrenaline and fear. Jacaerys climbed the trellis with practised ease, his movements almost instinctual.

When he finally stood before you, the sight sent a chill racing down your spine. Those dark circles under his eyes. The bruise on his cheek was a sickening shade of purple. And that cut on his lip? It brought back memories of all the times he had worn his pain-like armour, too proud to let anyone see him break.

Before you could muster a single question, before you could voice the countless thoughts that flooded your mind, he pulled you into a tight embrace that stole the breath from your lungs. His body was cold against yours, sending tingles across your skin, and it took everything in your power not to shiver. You hugged him back fiercely, almost desperate, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

He smelled like pine trees and the faintest hint of cigarettes—familiar and intoxicating. It was a scent that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, despite the chill of reality. All the memories rushed back, the laughter, the secrets shared in the dark, and the way he used to make everything seem okay, if only for a moment. You felt the weight of unresolved feelings crash over you, the longing too powerful to fight anymore. In that moment, it was just the two of you against the world, and it felt both terrifying and achingly perfect.

Jacaerys held you tightly, his heart pounding wildly against your chest, the rapid thumping echoing in the heavy silence around you. It was a physical reminder of everything that had brought him back to this moment. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, the softness of your curves pressed against him, and it took him back to all the nights he had spent longing for your closeness, wishing he could turn back time. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled your familiar scent—sweet and grounding—letting it envelop him like a warm blanket in the cold void of his regrets.

"I've missed you," he murmured into your hair, voice thick with emotion. Each word felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable, stripping away the armour he usually wore. "More than you'll ever know."

He sensed you tremble ever so slightly in his arms, and an urgency surged through him. He tightened his grip as if you could slip through his fingers at any moment. He understood that you had every right to be furious, to push him away, and yet, he clung to the fragile hope that a flicker of affection still resided within you, that somewhere beneath the pain, there was still space for him.

"I'm sorry," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it louder might shatter the moment. "I'm sorry for everything. For hurting you, for making you feel… God, I can't even imagine the kind of pain I put you through. But I swear to you, I’m going to make this right. I'm going to fix this, fix us. If you'll let me."

He pulled back slightly, his heart racing as he searched your eyes, desperately seeking any sign that you still cared. In the depths of your gaze, he saw layers of pain, confusion, and simmering anger, but there was something else lurking beneath the surface. It ignited a flicker of determination within him.

"Please," he urged, desperation dripping from his words, his voice cracking with vulnerability. "Just give me a chance to explain. A chance to show you that I can be better… for you."

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that felt almost sacred. He watched as goosebumps rose on your skin, a testament to the electric current sparking between you. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours in a soft touch, but kissing you yet.

He pulled back, eyes locked on yours, his breath hitching in his throat as he waited. He needed your answer, your next move. The silence hung heavy around you, a fragile moment suspended in time, and he dared to hope, praying that you still felt something for him.

"I missed you too," you whisper, your voice quivering. With shaking hands, you reach out to touch his hair, needing to feel the proof of his presence. "Every day…every single day," you choke back a sob, leaning your forehead against his. Your fingers tangle in his soft brown curls, a familiar comfort.

Your heart aches as you take in his appearance. He looks different, the light in his eyes dimmed. What did they do to him in that centre? You want to ask, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you hold him tighter, breathing in his scent, letting it wash over you like a balm.

You don't know what the future holds, but at this moment, you know one thing for sure - you have never stopped loving him, no matter how hard you have tried.

Jacaerys felt your fingers tangling in his hair, grounding him amidst the disorder swirling inside. It was a connection he craved, raw and vital—like air, like life.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice low, heavy with sincerity. "And I’m not going anywhere this time."

He lifted his head, locking eyes with you, and the intensity of his gaze felt electric. "What happened… what I did… it won't happen again. I swear it on my life. I’ve finally started to grasp who I am, what I’ve lost, what I can’t afford to lose again."

His hands found your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones in a way that felt like both a promise and a plea. "You matter. More than anything else in this messed-up world. I was lost before, but every step I take now is bringing me back to you."

He could see the tears welling in your eyes, ready to spill over, and it twisted his insides. The sight of your hurt, knowing he was the reason behind it, was a weight he had to carry. But right now, as you clung to him with a desperation that echoed his own, he vowed fiercely that he would never be the cause of your pain again.

"Shh," he soothed, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, a tender attempt to wipe away the heartache. "I know I hurt you. I messed up. God, I messed up so badly. But I promise—I'm going to be the man you deserve. The man I should’ve been all along."

He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like a stronghold, desperate to shield you from the world’s cruelty. At this moment, it felt like the air around you was dense with possibility, your broken pieces finally finding their match in each other. He poured everything he had into that embrace, pouring out a torrent of feelings he hoped you'd understand without him needing to say them.

"I love you," he whispered, each word hanging in the space between you like a confession, a truth he could no longer keep buried. "I never stopped loving you. Not for a single damn second."

His heart raced as he leaned in, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, hungering for that connection. He wanted to lose himself in your kiss, to drown in everything that was you, but he held back, desperate for your consent, your willing embrace. His body thrummed with electric anticipation, but he forced himself to wait, needing you to take that leap with him.

"My sweet boy," you murmured, your voice cracking slightly as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his forehead. The warmth of his skin beneath your touch sent a comforting flutter through your chest, but the sight of his bruised face twisted your heart. You placed your hand gently on his cheek, fingers trembling slightly as you traced the outline of his face, lingering on the cut that marred his plump lower lip. It was red and swollen, a stark reminder of whatever he had been through.

"What happened?" The question slipped from your lips, heavy with concern and a desperate need to understand. You searched his eyes, those deep pools that were usually so full of life now clouded with shadows. Each second that passed without an answer felt like a knife twisting in your gut. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the months apart pressing down on you; the world had felt so hollow without him.

Even after all this time, your feelings hadn’t dulled—they had only grown sharper, fueled by the fear of losing him again. You wanted to wrap him in your arms and shield him from every pain, every fight. He had come back, against all odds. For you. Because of you. The thought was both a balm and a burden. The intimacy of the moment hung heavily in the air—a fragile mix of relief and anxiety, love and unspoken fear. You wanted to protect him, to erase the hurt from his past, but you feared that you weren’t enough.

As you looked at him, your heart ached with the need to defy every obstacle that had pulled you apart. You could see that it scared him, too—the possibility of falling back into the darkness. You drew in a shaky breath, your thumb brushing over his lip again as if your touch could somehow erase the pain he was feeling. "Please, just tell me," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I’ll be right here, I promise." The weight of your words hung between you as you tried to bridge the insurmountable distance.

At that moment, the world outside faded, leaving just the two of you caught in the chaos of emotions—anguish mixing with an undeniable spark of love that danced in your hearts. But despite the love, the turmoil of his silent suffering threatened to unravel everything you held dear. And you would do anything to keep that from happening.

Jacaerys felt the warmth of your touch on his marred lip, a jolt of electricity firing through him that made him close his eyes. He leaned into your caress, every featherlight brush igniting a craving he'd been nursing for months. Your gentle touch, the loving concern in your gaze—it was everything he’d been missing. Shame and relief danced inside him like a twisted waltz, and he couldn’t decide which one was winning.

When you asked about the bruises, he opened his eyes, suddenly feeling exposed. The vulnerability in his gaze must have struck you, and it unnerved him. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, knowing you deserved the truth—raw and unfiltered.

“It was a fight,” he finally admitted, his voice rough and jagged, like he was scraping it off the floor. “They threw me in detention, and some guy didn’t like that I was new. He decided he needed to make an example of me.”

There was a pause, thick with unspoken words, as he swallowed hard. It was easier to share the physical pain than the emotional weight he'd been carrying.

“But that’s not all,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “They made us go through these intense therapy sessions—group and individual. I had to face everything I’ve done, all the areas where I’ve messed up. It hurt like hell, but it was necessary. I realized just how much I’d hurt you… and how much I’ve hurt myself. I couldn’t keep running from my problems; they all caught up with me there.”

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining like they were made to fit together. He needed that connection, that anchor. “I know I can’t change the past. Believe me, I wish I could. But I’m determined to change the future. I want to be the man you deserve, the man I was always meant to be. I’m committed to my sobriety, to making things right, to being better—better for you, for us.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right way to lay it all out. “And I need you. I need you like I need air. Without you, I’m lost. You’ve always been my anchor.”

His eyes searched yours, desperately seeking any sign of hope, any glimmer that could tell him you still believed in him. “I love you,” he confessed, the raw honesty crashing over him like a wave. “I love you more than words can ever say. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but if you give it to me, I swear I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of everything he’d said hanging between you like a fragile thread, and he prayed it would hold.

"You kept my clothes?" Jacaerys repeated, the words sinking in slowly. His heart thudded against his ribs, a sudden rush of emotions sparking through him. The idea that you had held onto something so personal, a tangible piece of him, even after everything… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

You nodded silently, still looking through your closet.

"You must have cared more than you let on," he murmured, taking a tentative step towards you. "All this time, I thought… I thought you'd moved on, that I'd pushed you away for good…"

He watched as you rifled through your closet, searching for something for him to wear. The action was so mundane, yet it spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings. You were still taking care of him, even now, even after all the pain he'd caused.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he watched you pull out a shirt and boxers from the closet. "Thank you for keeping them… for keeping a piece of me."

He hesitated before adding, "And thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself. I won't let you down again."

As you handed him the shirt, Jacaerys took it with shaky hands, the fabric reminding him of happier times. He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a world of sorrow and hope. "I'll change in the bathroom," he said quietly.

"Wait," you blurted out, the words escaping before you could catch them. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realised what you had said. "I mean… you're dirty from your climb. You should take a bath."

You huffed, feeling the heat of his gaze linger just a little too long, making your heart race. It felt awkward after a long time apart. "Let me get it ready for you," you mumbled, slipping past him into the small bathroom that smelled faintly of lavender.

Inside, you turned on the hot water, listening to the comforting splash as it filled the tub. You grabbed a bag of vanilla-scented Epsom salts, letting the soft grains pour into the water. The sweet aroma enveloped you, mixing with the steam rising from the tub, and for a moment, the outside world faded away.

Leaning against the sink, you allowed your thoughts to drift to Jacaerys. He was so close, yet so far away, and the tension in the air was almost tangible. Despite your earlier awkwardness, warmth blossomed within you—this was the closest you’d been in months, sharing this quiet, intimate moment.

Jacaerys watched you retreat into the bathroom, his heart pounding in his chest as he processed your words. A bath… the intimacy of it wasn't lost on him. It was a gesture of care, of wanting to take care of him, even in such a small way.

He followed you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you prepare the bath. The scent of vanilla filled the air, soothing and comforting. It reminded him of lazy Sunday mornings spent tangled in sheets, enjoying the warmth of your embrace.

"You don't have to do this," he said, his voice gentle. "I can manage on my own."

But even as he spoke the words, he knew he wanted you to stay. Wanted to feel your presence, your care, even if it was just in this simple act.

"Unless… unless you want to stay," he added quickly, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. "If you're comfortable with it, that is. I'd like that. Your company, I mean."

He crossed his arms, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your gaze. "But only if you're okay with it," he added hastily. "No pressure or anything. I just… I miss being close to you, even like this."

The tub was nearly full, steam rising in delicate tendrils to caress your skin. Jacaerys watched you, his eyes dark with a mix of longing and uncertainty. The silence stretched between you.

You paused for a moment, letting his request sink in. Back when you two were wrapped up in each other, it would have been the most natural thing in the world to say yes—no hesitation, no second-guessing. But now, standing at the doorframe, he felt like a stranger, a different version of the man you once knew, his tired eyes revealing a world of unspoken guilt.

“Yeah,” you replied, choosing to listen to your heart instead of reason. You turned off the tap, and the sound of the water ceasing felt louder than it should. As you faced him fully, the steam from the bathroom curled around you like a ghost, making the space feel intimate yet daunting. You hadn’t even taken the first step to undress, but already, that familiar feeling of vulnerability washed over you like warm water. It was as if your skin was made of glass, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

He watched as you turned off the tap, the sudden silence punctuating the air. The steam from the bathwater created an almost ethereal atmosphere, the mist swirling around you like a protective shield. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the moment of hesitation that betrayed your true feelings. It made his heart ache, knowing that he had put that look there—the look of a person who had been hurt and was now wary of trusting again.

"You don't have to," he said, his voice soft yet firm. "If you're not comfortable, it's okay. Really. I can handle it on my own."

He took a step forward, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "I won't push you. I know I've done enough of that already. But if you do want to stay, if you want to be close, I'd like that. I'd like it more than you know."

He searched your face, looking for any sign of your true emotions. "We don't have to rush anything. We can take it slow. One step at a time. Whatever you're comfortable with."

Jacaerys realised that he was holding his breath, waiting for your response. He wanted to assure you, to make you feel safe and secure, but he also knew that words alone wouldn't be enough. Only actions could prove his sincerity, his commitment to being the man you deserved.

He offered you a small smile, that barely touched his eyes but held a world of hope.

"I want to… I'm just— I feel shy," you admitted softly, your gaze dropping to the floor. It felt strange to be so exposed in front of him after all this time, memories flooding back. The first time your bare forms had intertwined in the soft glow of the evening light, you had both whispered sweet nothings, the air thick with a blend of naiveness and excitement.

With a deep breath, you decided it was time to bridge that gap. As you reached down to untie your pyjama shorts, the fabric slipped away from your hips, pooling at your feet. The cool air made every nerve ending alive with anticipation. You stepped out of them, now standing only in your soft lace underwear and a white tank top that draped lightly over your figure.

You could feel the warmth of his gaze on you, a mix of admiration and something deeper, causing a flutter in your stomach. The room held a quiet intimacy, filled with the soft sounds of your breathing and the faint rustle of fabric as you moved. A smile crept onto your lips, remembering those moments of gentle exploration where every touch felt electric, and every word of praise hung in the air like a shared secret.

Jacaerys felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched you disrobe, the vulnerability of the moment seizing him. The sight of you, standing there in your lace undies and soft tank top, was almost too much to bear. Memories flooded back, images of your skin under his fingertips, the taste of your lips, the sound of your moans… he had to physically shake himself to keep from drowning in the past.

He took a step towards you, his gaze roaming over your form, drinking in every curve, every dip, every inch of you. A warmth spread through him, a longing so intense it bordered on pain. His hands ached to touch you, to feel your smooth skin beneath his fingertips, but he held himself back. This moment was about rebuilding trust, about showing you that he could be gentle, patient, and everything you needed.

Slowly, reverently, he reached out to trail a finger along your collarbone, marvelling at the softness of your skin. "You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice husky. "Always have been, always will be."

He looked into your eyes, his own dark with desire and something deeper, something that spoke of love and yearning and a desperate need to make things right. "Thank you," he whispered, his finger tracing a gentle path down to your shoulder.

There was a moment of silence, heavy with tension and possibility. The air between you felt charged, electric, like a live wire ready to spark at the slightest touch. Jacaerys held his breath, waiting for you to make the next move, wanting to follow your lead, to show you that he respected your comfort and your desires.

The room suddenly felt too small, too intimate. It was full of nostalgia and anticipation, a bittersweet cocktail that left him dizzy with want and need and a desperate, aching hope.

Hesitantly at first, and slowly, you leaned in, feeling the warmth radiating off him. Your heart raced as you captured his lips in a soft kiss, the world around you fading into a gentle blur. Your lips moved together, soft and lingering, as a spark ignited between you. You felt his hair, silky and slightly tousled, slipping between your fingers as you tangled your hands in it, drawing him closer. The weight of his body against yours sent a thrill through you, the two of you fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

Jacaerys' heart raced as he felt your lips against his, the warmth of your breath mingling with his own. The kiss was soft, gentle, a perfect reflection of the moment—fragile and new, yet filled with the promise of something more. It was a kiss that whispered of hope and possibility, of a future where maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

His hands found your waist, fingers splaying across your skin like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. He pulled you closer, wanting to erase the distance between you, to feel your body flush against his. It was a need that went beyond the physical, a desperate longing to reconnect, to find that missing piece of himself that had always fit so perfectly with you.

After what felt like an eternity, you reluctantly pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, those deep pools reflecting a mixture of warmth and curiosity. “The bath will get cold soon,” you said softly, a playful smile tugging at your lips while your fingers brushed through his curls, enjoying the way they curled around your fingertips.

He was breathless, his eyes dark with desire and something that spoke of love and longing and a fierce protectiveness. He watched as you smiled, your fingers brushing through his curls, and he couldn't help but lean into your touch.

At the mention of the bath, he chuckled softly, his hand sliding down to find yours, intertwining your fingers together. "You're right," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "We should… we should get in before it gets cold."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching your face, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. When he found none, he took a deep breath and nodded, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Together?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the question hanging in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility.

"Do you want to?" you asked in a timid voice, your heart racing as you braced yourself for the possibility of rejection. The gentle press of his lips against yours had reignited feelings you thought you had buried deep within yourself, and the warmth of his touch reminded you of everything you had been trying to suppress for far too long.

You had already taken off your shorts, the fabric pooling around your feet, thinking that he’d want nothing more than to be close to you in this intimate moment. Yet, now, standing before him in just your shirt and underwear, your heart thudded harder with uncertainty. His eyes searched yours, and you could feel the weight of the question lingering in the air, casting a shadow of nervousness over your excitement.

You couldn't help but feel a bit silly, second-guessing yourself, even though every part of you craved to close that distance and dive into the warmth of his embrace.

Jacaerys' heart clenched at the wavering in your voice, the hesitation that coloured your words. He could see the vulnerability in your eyes, the way you were bracing yourself for rejection, and it made him want to pull you close, to hold you close and never let go.

"Yes," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than anything."

He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip. "I want to be close to you. In every way possible."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closing as he savoured the moment. "I know I've hurt you," he whispered, his breath mingling with yours.

His hands slid up your sides, his fingers skimming over your ribs, your waist, until they came to rest on your shoulders. He gazed into your eyes, his own dark with desire and something deeper, something that spoke of love and longing and a desperate need to make things right.

"I want to be with you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "In the bath, in bed, wherever you'll have me. I just… I need to be close to you. I need to feel you, touch you, love you."

The sincerity in his voice was palpable, the honesty in his eyes unwavering. He was giving you control, putting your comfort and your desires first. It was a stark contrast to the man he had been before, and it made your heart ache with the knowledge that he had changed, that he was trying to be better.

The room felt charged with tension. The steam from the bath wafted around you both, creating a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere. The soft glow of the bathroom light cast a warm, gentle light over your skin, making you feel frail and vulnerable.

You just nodded in response. No need for words with unspoken understanding. Your fingers danced softly down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it, hinting for him to take it off. A little smirk threatened to slip out as you remembered all the times you had been here before.

Jacaerys wasted no time, flipping his shirt off with an urgency that made you chuckle. There was something so endearing about the way he was always so eager. You turned your back to him, pulling your tank top off slowly, fully aware that you were teasing him. The air felt cold against your skin, but the warmth of his gaze surrounded you.

When you spun back around, you caught him standing there, completely captivated. He was like a painting of desire, his eyes wide and filled with admiration as he took in the sight of you. Without thinking, he hurriedly worked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking softly in the quiet room. His jeans dropped to the floor, leaving him standing there in nothing but his boxers, his erection straining against the fabric.

He stepped towards you, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect."

His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. He walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bathtub, his hands sliding down your sides, your hips, your thighs.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I need you," he rasped, his eyes dark with desire. "I need to be inside you, to feel you."

His hands slid down to your hips, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, seeking permission. "Can I?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

When you nodded, his hands hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs, his fingers trailing over your skin as he went, your breath hitching. He stepped back, his gaze raking over your naked form, his cock throbbing in response.

"Get in the bath," he commanded softly, his voice thick with need. "I'll join you in a minute."

He turned away, giving you a moment of privacy as he quickly shed his boxers. When he turned back around, he was completely naked, his erection jutting proudly from his hips. You bite back a grin upon seeing the effect you still had on him.

He stepped into the bath, the warm water enveloping him like a blanket. He leaned back against the tub, pulling you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into his embrace, enjoying having him close yet again. His pale torso is marred with purple and green bruises, but they didn't hurt, not when he was with you anyway.

Carefully, you turn your head to face him, littering his neck in soft kisses and bites, soothing them with your tongue. His skin tastes salty, filling your senses. You press yourself against him tighter, your breasts flattening against his chest, nipples hardening in the cool air. His hands slide over your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I missed this," you murmur, your lips brushing against his ear. "Missed being close to you."

Jacaerys groaned softly as your lips found his neck, your teeth grazing his skin. The sensation sent shivers down his spine, his cock twitching against your back. He tilted his head to the side, giving you better access, his hands sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

"I missed this too," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "Missed holding you, touching you, tasting you."

He rolled his hips, grinding his hard length against your ass, the water sloshing around you both. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly, his cock nestling between your legs, the head brushing against your clit.

The sensation made your core tighten, your inner walls clenching around nothing, a silent moan escaping your parted lips. You could feel the heat of him. Your breath hitched, your heart racing as he teased you, his cock rubbing against your most sensitive spot.

"Jacaerys," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "Please…"

"I want you," he growled, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Want to be inside you, want to make you scream my name."

His hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your slick folds, stroking you slowly, teasingly. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "So ready for me."

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against your lips, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

His fingers toyed with your clit, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. Your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more of his touch. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and husky. "Ride my fingers. Get yourself ready for my cock."

He continued to rub your clit, his other hand sliding down to tease your entrance. He circled your opening with his finger, gathering the wetness that had gathered there. "Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, pushing one finger inside you, then two. He pumped them in and out, curling them to hit that special spot inside you.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, a moan escaping your lips as he worked you open for him. Fuck, no one had touched you like this in months. Not after him. And your fingers never felt this good.

You were already embarrassingly close to the edge, his fingers making you mad with pleasure. "Oh, fuck, just like that," you whimpered, eyes screwing shut.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl. You could feel the pressure building, your thighs trembling, your core tightening around his digits.

Jacaerys groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers, your moans filling the steamy bathroom. He could tell you were close, your body trembling with need. He wanted to push you over the edge, to make you come undone in his arms.

"That's it, baby," he rasped, his fingers pumping faster, harder. "Come for me. Let go."

His other hand slid up to your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations were too much, and with a cry of his name, you came, your gummy walls clamping down around his fingers, your juices coating his hand.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. "Fuck, you're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

As you started to come down from your high, he slowly withdrew his fingers from your dripping core. He brought them to his lips, sucking your essence from his digits, his eyes locked on yours. "Delicious," he purred, his voice low.

He turned you around in his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. His cock was hard and heavy against your stomach, the head leaking pre-cum. "I need to be inside you," he growled, his hands gripping your hips. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."

He reached between your bodies, grasping his shaft and lining it up with your entrance. You bit your lip as you felt his blunt tip breaching your tight heat, thighs trembling with anticipation.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, Jacaerys pushed forward, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by delicious inch. You gasped at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around him, adjusting to his size. He groaned at the sensation, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Fuck, you feel so good," he rasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "So tight, so perfect."

He held himself still for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Jacaerys pushed his thick cock deeper inside you. "Ahh, fuck!" you whined, your lips quivering with pleasure. You even couldn't wait for him to move, your hips starting to roll impatiently over his shaft.

"You feel so good, Jace," you mumbled, your mind going blank as you focused solely on the sensation of him stretching you open. "So big in me." You started bouncing on his cock, needing to feel more of him, to be ruined by him.

The water sloshed around you as you rode him, some of it spilling onto the bathroom floor. But you didn't care, lost in the feeling of him filling you, satisfying me. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Jacaerys groaned as you started to bounce on his cock, your tight heat engulfing him, squeezing him tight. "Fuck," he growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "You feel so fucking good."

He thrust up to meet your movements, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into your welcoming heat. The water splashed around you both, the sound mixing with your moans and his grunts.

"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice raspy with desire. "Ride my cock. Take what you need."

His hands slid up your body, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. He pinched and rolled the sensitive buds between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you chased your release. "Jace," you moaned, your voice high and needy. "Please, I need… I need…"

"Yeah? Use your words, baby," he rasped, his hips pistoning upwards, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

You couldn't believe how incredible it felt to have Jacaerys' thick cock stretching your tight, wet pussy again. He filled you up so perfectly, hitting all the right spots deep inside. Each powerful thrust made your toes curl, your walls clenching around his shaft.

"Oh fuck, Jace!" You cried out, your nails raking down his back. "Your cock feels so fucking good inside me! Don't stop!"

You rode him hard and fast, your tits bouncing with each movement. The obscene sounds of pleasure and water splattering on the floor echoed off the bathroom tiles. You could feel your orgasm building, your clit throbbing with need.

"Mmm yeah, just like that," you moaned, grinding your hips down.

You threw your head back, your hair flying as you lost yourself in the intense pleasure.

Jacaerys groaned as you rode him harder, your tight pussy gripping his cock like a vice. "Fuck," he grunted, his hips snapping up to meet your downward thrusts. "My pretty girl," Jace groaned possessively.

He leaned forward, capturing one of your bouncing nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive bud. His hands gripped your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he helped guide your movements, urging you to take him deeper.

"That's it, baby," he growled against your skin, his voice muffled by your breast.

Jacaerys felt like he was losing his mind with pleasure, your tight cunt squeezing his cock so perfectly. He wanted to fuck you forever, to never stop feeling you wrapped around him.

"Fuck, your pussy feels like heaven," he groaned, his hips slamming up to meet yours. "So fucking tight and wet for me. You love my cock, don't you? Love feeling me stretch you open?"

"Yes!" You cry out, your voice echoing off the bathroom tiles. "I love your cock so fucking much!"

Your hips move wildly on top of him, your cunt clenching around his thick shaft. It's like your body remembers him, remembers how perfectly he fills you up. You missed this so much, missed the way he makes you feel, the way he touches you like he owns me. Cause, after all, he was made for you and you for him.

You look down at him, your eyes glazed over with pleasure, your lips parted in a silent moan. "Fuck, Jace," you pant, your nails pressing into his shoulders. "Your cock is stretching me so good. I'm so fucking close."

Jacaerys groaned at your words, his cock throbbing inside you, the tight heat of your pussy driving him wild. "Fuck," he growled, his hips slamming up to meet yours, driving his cock deep inside you. "You take my cock so well, baby. Like you were made for me."

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to ride him harder, faster.

"I love feeling you wrapped around me," he rasped against your lips. "Love knowing that I'm the only one who gets to make you feel this good."

His release was building, his balls tightening, his cock pulsing inside you. He was close, so fucking close. But he held back, wanting to feel you come first, wanting to give you the pleasure you deserved,  wanting to feel your pussy clenching around him as you screamed his name.

Jacaerys' mind was consumed with lust, his thoughts swirling with filthy images of you. He imagined bending you over the bathroom counter, fucking you from behind as he watched your ass bounce with each thrust. He pictured you on your knees, your pretty lips wrapped around his cock as he fed you his length, your eyes watering as he hit the back of your throat.

He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own. He wanted to leave his fingerprints on your hips, bite marks on your neck, proof that you belonged to him and him alone.

You could feel your second release approaching, your velvety walls spasming wildly around his thick shaft, your hips bucking against his. "I'm so close," you whined in a high-pitched voice, your head falling forward as you lost yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

Your mind was consumed with lust, your thoughts swirling with filthy images of Jacaerys. You imagined him pounding into you harder, faster, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. You pictured him flipping you over, taking you from behind, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he claimed you, marking you as his own.

You wanted to feel him everywhere, to be filled by him completely. You craved the sensation of his hot seed spilling inside you, marking you, claiming you. You wanted to be his, body and soul, to belong to him in every way possible.

Your nails raked down his back, leaving red lines in their wake as you urged him on, desperate for more, for everything he had to give. "Please, Jace," you begged, your voice ragged with need. "Make me cum. I need it. I need you."

Jacaerys groaned as he felt your pussy clench around his cock, your walls fluttering and spasming as you neared your release. "That's it, baby," he growled, his hips slamming up to meet yours, driving his cock deep inside you. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as you rode him harder, faster. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to take him deeper, to milk his cock for all it was worth.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he rasped against your lips, his voice strained with pleasure. "So fucking perfect."

"Cum for me," he demanded, his voice rough with lust. "Show me how much you love being fucked by me."

He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles. The added stimulation was all it took to push you over the edge, your pussy clamping down around his cock as you came, your juices gushing out around his shaft.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips stuttering as he felt you come undone. "That's my girl. My perfect, beautiful girl."

He thrust into you a few more times, chasing his release, before burying himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his seed. He held you close, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

"I love you," he murmured against your skin, his voice soft and tender. "I love you so fucking much."

"A-ahh," you let out a broken sob as your orgasm crashed over you, your body going limp on top of Jacaerys. Your hips twitched involuntarily, moving on their own as the last waves of pleasure washed through you.

You collapsed against his toned chest, your face buried in the crook of his neck as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was racing, and your skin was slick with sweat and water. You felt boneless, completely spent like all the tension and stress had been fucked out of you.

Jacaerys' arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you came down from your high. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady and strong. You wanted to stay like this forever, lost in the afterglow, safe in his embrace.

But even as you basked in the warmth of his love, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this was all too good to be true. That at any moment, it would all come crashing down, leaving you broken and alone once again.

You pushed the thought away, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment. For now, you would let yourself believe in the fairytale, in the promise of happily ever after.

"I love you," you murmured against his skin, your voice raspy and raw. "I love you so much, Jacaerys."

And for a brief, shining moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, this time it would be different. That this time, your love would be enough.

Jacaerys held you close as you came down from your high, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. He could feel the way your heart raced beneath his fingertips, the way your breath hitched as he brushed his lips against your temple.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "More than anything in this world."

He knew that you had your doubts, that you were afraid of getting hurt again. But he wanted to prove to you that this was different, that what you had was real and lasting.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. "Hey," he said gently, his eyes searching yours. "Look at me."

When you met his gaze, he smiled, his heart swelling with love and affection. "I know you're scared," he said softly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to stay, for as long as you'll have me."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks, before finally capturing your lips in a tender, loving kiss. He poured all of his emotions into the kiss, all of his love and devotion, hoping that you could feel it, could understand the depth of his feelings for you.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he savoured the moment. "I know it's not going to be easy," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this work, to make us work."

He opened his eyes, gazing into yours with a fierce intensity. "I love you," he said again, his voice filled with conviction. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that's what it takes."

Hearing his words made your heart soar, and without thinking, you pulled him into a passionate kiss. It was wet and messy, a beautiful chaos where both of you poured every ounce of emotion into that moment. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the nape of his neck, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin. When you finally pulled back, breathless gasps filled the air, and your pupils dilated in the soft glow of the surroundings.

“Jace,” you murmured, nuzzling your nose against his, your foreheads resting together. Your breaths intertwined, creating a rhythm that matched the quickening of your hearts, each inhale and exhale echoing the sweetness of the moment. You brushed your thumb delicately over his cheek, tracing the outline of his bruise—a reminder of the fights. “I won’t let this happen to you again. Like I said… I have a bat,” you chuckled, the playful glint in your eyes as you placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

But then an uncomfortable sting shot through your knees and thighs from being in the same position for too long. Your fingers looked like raisins from the long 'bath', pruney and wrinkled, but somehow, even that felt amusing in the warmth of the moment. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter the discomfort, you’d choose him every time.

Jacaerys chuckled at your joke, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I'll hold you to that," he teased, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "My own personal bodyguard."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of you, the feel of your skin against his. When he pulled back, he noticed the discomfort on your face, the way you shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in your knees and thighs.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice gentle and caring. "Let's get you out of this tub before you turn into a prune."

He stood up slowly, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop, a trail of your combined fluids following in its wake. He reached down, his hands strong and sure as he lifted you effortlessly from the tub, water cascading off your skin.

You let out a soft gasp as Jacaerys slipped out of you, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure you had just shared. He gave you a cocky smirk, clearly pleased with himself, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully.

"Show off," you teased, but there was no real bite to your words. You were too content, too happy to be in his arms again.

He wrapped a fluffy towel around your shoulders, and another around your waist, before grabbing one for himself. He dried you off gently, his touch tender and loving, taking his time to make sure every inch of your skin was dry.

Once you were both dry, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom.

You yelped in surprise when he suddenly scooped you up, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. You laughed softly, the sound light and carefree, as he laid you down on the bed, crawling in beside you, pulling you close to his chest.

It was like he had never left, like no time had passed at all. He knew exactly where everything was like he had never left. It warmed your heart and made you feel safe and loved in a way you hadn't felt in a long time.

You went and grabbed fresh underwear from the cupboard, slipping it on as Jacaerys picked up the clothes you had given him from the bed. For a moment, you moved in silence, comfortable in each other's presence, content just to be near each other.

Jacaerys watched as you slipped into your underwear, his eyes roaming over your body appreciatively. He could feel his cock stirring to life again, but he pushed the thought aside, knowing that you needed time to recover.

He picked up his clothes from the bed, slipping into them slowly, savouring the feeling of being in your space again. It felt like coming home like everything was exactly as it should be.

As he slipped on his shirt, he caught sight of you in the mirror, your reflection soft and beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom. He felt a surge of love and possessiveness, a primal urge to claim you, to mark you as his own.

But he pushed the thought aside, knowing that you needed gentleness and patience. He would give you all the time you needed to heal, to trust again.

He turned to face you, a soft smile on his face. "What do you want to do now?" he asked, his voice gentle. "We could order some food, watch a movie, or just talk. Whatever you want, baby. I'm here for you."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his touch warm and comforting.

"Or," he added, a playful spark in his eye, "we could pick up where we left off in the bathroom. I'm not tired yet."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a playful smirk on his face. He knew you were sore, knew that you probably needed time to recover, but he couldn't resist teasing you a little.

"But seriously," he said, his voice softening, "whatever you want. I'm here for you. Always."

You smirked, poking your cheek with your tongue playfully. Then, in a flash, you lunged at Jacaerys, tackling him onto the bed. You landed on top of him, straddling his hips as he let out a surprised grunt.

"Well," you purred, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you leaned down, your hair falling around your head. "A movie and food does sound pretty good, doesn't it?"

You could feel his cock hardening beneath you, pressing against your core through the thin fabric of your underwear. The knowledge that you could still affect him so easily sent a thrill through you.

Jacaerys let out a surprised grunt as you tackled him onto the bed, your body landing on top of his. He grinned up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you straddling his hips.

"A movie and food, huh?" he teased, his hands sliding up your thighs, his fingers toying with the hem of your underwear. "I think I can arrange that."

He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. "But first," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "I think I need a little appetiser."

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 36 BRUTAL CLARITY

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing (shocker but no sexual innuendos in this chap !) , lwk abandonment issues, blame shifting, lots of nervous habits too (?)

NOTES | first fully written chap, some of you guys will hate me for this, also, I was initially going to post this yesterday, but I got lazy and didn't write anything 😭

Now, Jaemin wasn’t one to believe in fate, but if it had somehow led him here, he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

After 10 minutes of trying to pry the door open and too many failed attempts at picking the lock both captains had finally given up, too worn out from the game to actually bother trying to get out of the room they found themselves locked in.

Jaemin stood near one of the benches, hands jammed deep into the pockets of his hoodie. His eyes occasionally darted to Y/N, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back to him. Not a word had been exchanged between them in the past week, let alone during the last ten minutes. The silence between them felt heavy, far more suffocating than the game they'd just played.

There was so much to say—too much, in fact, and he had no idea where to begin. But Jaemin knew he had to start somewhere.

"Don't go on that date with Jay." He said softly, voice barely above a whisper. His body practically froze in the second it took him to process the words that had actually left his mouth, but Y/n sat still, unmoving. Of all the impending conversations, this was the last one he'd intended to start with.

He felt like an idiot.

When she didn’t respond, Jaemin felt a pang of uncertainty, wondering if she hadn’t heard him. He hesitated, the words stuck in his throat, but instead of repeating himself, he added, "Can we talk?"

Nothing. But he was certain she'd heard him.

"Come on, Y/N," Jaemin’s voice was quieter now but edged with desperation. "Talk to me"

Y/N’s shoulders stiffened, not turning around. Her gaze was fixed on the rough floor, the sting of old memories too sharp to face him directly.

Something about this moment felt too nostalgic, too tender, reminiscent of a past she desperately wanted to return to. And looking at Jaemin— she just couldn't do it.

Not now. Not when in this past week, she'd relived every moment she once knew Jaemin, through photographs and teenage diary entries,now buried somewhere at the back of her wardrobe.

Still, Jaemin took a step forward, and she bowed her head, refusing eye contact. His heart clenched. Her glossy eyes weren't difficult to miss, not for him.

"I don’t know what happened. I don’t even know why he's here, " Jaemin continued, his words rushed. "I just want to fix things. Please." He knew his words were jumbled, mixing pieces of conversations they should’ve had long ago, but if this was his only chance, he wouldn’t blow it. “Look at me, peach.”

Y/N’s lips pressed together, and for a moment, it seemed like she might just give in. Instead, she pulled her knees closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as if to shut herself off completely. Cocooning herself.

Jaemin let out a frustrated breath and sank onto the bench across from her, his voice quieter now. Defeated almost.

"I swear, he came onto me first," Jaemin defended himself, trying to take a different approach to the situation, a dry, soulless laugh rolling off his tongue. "That's a lie, but he was pissing me off." His hands were up, raised by his head in full defence after he'd caught the way y/n snuck bitter glances at him in the mirror across from them.

God, she almost wanted to laugh. And she hated that she did, hated how jaemin always knew what to say and when to say it, how to get her to laugh in her worst moments, how to get through to her when nobody else could. After all that, she didn't understand why he was the same person to turn his back on her so quickly.

In all honesty, she could've cared less about what Jaemin had done to her father. He probably deserved it, hell she was ready to blow up at him herself— the man who had never once shown up to a single one of her games in support, coming to one of the few that meant the most. He did it on purpose. He was trying to throw her off and it was clear as day. He could be dealt with later she supposed, trying to process everything Jaemin was saying instead.

But it still didn't make sense. Nothing seemed to match up. Why would the Jaemin who'd walked out of her life so easily put so much at stake for her, the Jaemin who once couldn't care less about her, now begged her just to look his way. Her mind raced, a swirl of emotions, but behind it all, a lingering sense of confusion.

"Can we talk y/n? You've been ignoring me for days, and I have no idea what I did." He pauses, hoping she'll finally break. She doesn't, not yet.

"If anyone should be mad at someone it's me. I should be angry, hell I should be enraged, but here I am making an effort and you're giving me nothing." he tries again, hopeful. His voice raises, louder, more hoarse when he continues, a sign of his slipping patience.

"Work with me here because I'm trying to salvage our friendship after everything we've been through, I'm trying to save us, and somehow, it feels like you've already given up"

She finally spoke, her voice flat.

"I have."

Jaemin felt the way his eyes widened, the spark of hope in his eyes vanished, confusion flooding his expression instead.

"What."

"Why would I fight for something I know won't last?" She spoke like she had all the certainty in the world

Jaemin's expression faltered. "What do you mean?"

The question is simple but comes with such sincerity that for a moment, just for a second, Y/n wonders if she's gone insane.

"What do I mean?" she laughs, sarcasm dripping through her tone, "You know damn well what I mean Jaemin." His innocent act is enough for Y/n to rise to her feet, fists bundled at her side, jaw set in a hard line.

"You don't just get to walk out of someone's life, my life Jaemin, and pretend like you did nothing wrong. You don't just get to throw away relationships like that, not what we had. You want to talk about fighting, huh Jaemin? I fought, so hard. " her voice was sharp, coming in bursts of irritation, struggling to catch her breath as she hiccuped, tears welling in her eyes and already rolling down her cheeks " I fought so fucking hard, and I fought alone, because I thought you, I thought we, were worth fighting for."

She takes a second to wipe her tears, Jaemin taken aback— he'd never seen her like this, never so raw, so vulnerable.

Nothing she had said made any sense, nothing she spoke of aligned with anything he knew, and yet it seemed nothing short of the truth.

"You disappeared, and you never even told me why, and you want to talk to me about giving up on us? How do I know you won't do it again, huh? How do I let you back into my life, accept you with open arms and a smile, when I don't know if you'll do it again, if you'll leave again." At this point, Jaemin watched the girl's sentences disintegrate in their flow, broken sobs punctuating her words in some places, shallow breaths in others.

"You say want to talk about us, but the first thing you asked me was not to go on some stupid date that really shouldn't be any of your concern in the first place. Is this really even about us? Because it feels like you say all this shit about fighting for us when really, you don't care at all."

Her words were coming out jumbled, a disorganised mess of all the things she'd been meaning to get off her chest in years, and yet the weight on her shoulders didn't seem to lighten even when she spoke.

"I called a thousand times, texted a million more, I begged to talk to you, I sent you letters, I even sent emails, emails Jaemin, and you never responded, not once. I was trying so hard, and you, you weren't even trying at all."

Jaemin felt a knot tighten in his stomach, uncertainty coursing through his veins. The anger he thought he should have felt was replaced by a deep concern, making him question everything he swore he had known for so long.

"You think I cut you off for no reason?" perhaps he should've made a more conscious effort to soothe her worries, but Jaemin felt it, his clammy palms, his shaky hands, he was on the edge— ready to spiral if he had to listen any further. The need to defend himself, and perhaps, to really get to the bottom of this, was compelling.

Everything he did, blocking her number and her contacts, ignoring her countless knocks at the door and her shouts for him across the street, all of it, came flooding back into his mind.

For a moment, he wondered if she really deserved it at all?

"You were all I had y/n, all I needed really, and you think I just did this all for no reason. I know you're not stupid enough to think that." He chuckles— sourly. "You left me," he corrects. "Broke every promise you'd ever made to me and never turned around once to apologise"

It felt like he was speaking gibberish, like his words didn't make sense, and his emotions came out of nowhere, a throbbing now making Y/n's head spin. This act Jaemin was putting on was good, too good.

"Stop speaking in riddles, what do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't get to stand there and pretend this is all my fault," he snaps, sharp and honest. "You left me at regionals, after promising you would be there, you left me to fend for myself after knowing what I would've had to give up if I competed, what I did give up. Y/n you left me, betrayed me in fact, so don't you dare make this my fault."

You left me— the words rang in her ears.

But she didn't.

Y/n didn't remember much, not from that point in her life, after she'd made every attempt forget it, but she remembered this, and she remembered it so vividly. Regionals hadn't gone ahead that year. She was certain. They were cancelled, she tried desperately to recollect. And then it hit her.

As Jaemin stared at her, the pieces began to fall into place. Y/n felt her heart drop. Just how stupid could she be?

"They didn't cancel the competition?" she asked, each syllable thick with a newfound shame.

"Of course not" he scoffed, "Why would you think that"

Jaemin almost rolled his eyes.

But then he saw it, the way her skin had drained of its colour. Y/n's lips trembled, she fidgeted with her fingers, picking at the skin that surrounded her nail beds, flicking the hair tie against her wrist. Something wasn't right. Y/n finally realised what she had done, and god, she felt like such a fool. The truth hit hard, and it hit fast.

"I'm so sorry, jaem," her head hung low with embarrassment, but her stare still held his, as if she could only convey the sheer sincerity of hers through her eyes. The weight of her words hung between them, and Jaemin could feel the atmosphere shift around him, the heat that rushed to his head before was now replaced with a harsh knocking against his ribs, cold feet and constricted air.

He wanted answers. He needed to know.

"Y/n what happened that day. Tell me."

The signs, they'd had been clear as day, and now, she wondered why she'd believed him, after his constant let downs and disapproval for her sport, his constant attempts to sabotage her and her career.

The organisers had all gotten into a car crash on their way to the competition, that why the competition didn't go ahead— that's what her dad had told her.

Regret settled in her chest as she fought to intake enough oxygen.

Her head shook, frantic and fevered, there was no way.

She couldn't believe it.

Her father lied to her, and she'd been naive enough to believe him.

It was all her fault.

Her stupidity had cost Jaemin so much. It had cost them so much. Everything.

But she didn't know how to tell him.

Her eyes focused on Jaemin, but he seemed blurry and hazy. In fact, soon enough, he was spinning.

Y/n struggled to keep her footing, her legs wobbling beneath her. It was as if the ground was shifting, and she couldn't find her balance, her mind racing with thoughts that only fueled her anxiety. The bitter taste of guilt residing on her tongue, harsh and unforgiving.

"I need you to breathe for me, peach. I'm right here. Just breathe."

But she needed to get it off her chest. She had to.

"He said they cancelled the competition. He lied."

"Who did?" Jaemin was beyond confused, her sentence too short and vague for him to understand what she was getting at. Still, his heart skipped a beat, panicked.

"My dad."

It was as if a fog had lifted, and suddenly, everything made sense. Really and truly, it felt impossible. A brutal clarity.

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[luveline]

hi jade!! i love eddie and roan always, can we get a ficlet from their earlier days where roan is smaller. just whatever you want to write about, thanks love you💖

Eddie isn’t sure how you’ve ended up like this, but he’ll take it. He’s never laid in someone’s lap, at least not with a girl he was dating, never had someone like him enough to start scratching his back of their own volition. You draw sweetly gentle lines up and down the length of him with your nails, never pausing, an automatic expression of love. 

He’s pathetic, pressing his face to your stomach. He really hopes you love him. 

“Can I sleepover?” you whisper. 

“You can move in,” he mumbles. 

“You shouldn’t flirt so much.” Your hand climbs up to his hair, where you continue your awful lovely scratching. “Can I have a kiss?” 

You shouldn’t be allowed to whisper like that. Eddie turns his face away from your stomach and lifts his chin. He’s spoiled —you lean down and kiss him. He doesn’t do any of the hard work. 

“Daddy?” 

Eddie touches your face and finally forces himself to sit up. “Ro?” 

She’s wearing pyjamas you bought for her with good intention but misinformation, the legs pooling around her feet and the sleeves over her hands. Her smile showcases a row of pearly, baby teeth. She looks cute, but her hair is alarming. 

“What have you done?” Eddie asks, cringing. “Babe, are those stickles again?” 

“They’re stuck,” she says. She realises he’s alarmed and begins to panic, reaching up, “Oh no!” 

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, quickly burying his own emotions. He should’ve done so from the start, but you’d yanked his defences down and left him a slovenly mess from all your sweetness. Plus, it’s not like he’s the calmest guy in the world. “Baby, it’s fine. Come here, let me see.” 

“Wait,” she says tearfully. 

“Baby,” he says again, softer still, “come here, I’ll fix it. I promise.”

“Cross your heart?” she asks. 

Eddie pouts at her wobbly lip. “I cross my heart, Roanie. Just come sit down.” 

You squeeze his thigh with a distinct sense of pride, though he has no idea what he’s done. Roan drags herself to the couch and Eddie picks her up to sit her between your leg and his, getting a better look at the problem, red, green, and yellow stickle bricks lost in her hair. It’s not as bad as it seems closer up. 

He draws a line with tow of his knuckles across her shoulder. “It’s fine,” he says, kissing her cheek, “it’s okay, no biggie. I’ll go get a comb and we’ll brush them all out! Your beautiful hair will be fine.” 

“Thank you,” she says. 

You make a funny sound. “Aw, Ro.” You take a stickle brick into your hand carefully. “Can I help too?” 

“Please, please.” She turns her huge eyes on you and grabs your arm. “Please don’t pull.” 

“Never, babe.” 

You and Eddie take some time to pull the bricks from her hair, their tines like Velcro stuck between her dark curls. It takes ages, and she grows frustrated, but Eddie holds her hand in his and says, “Just be patient, sweetheart, you gotta wait,” while feeling especially tender. He forgets sometimes that she’s not his mini me after all, that her experiences of fear are fresh and new. “It’s going okay, Ro, it just takes ages.” 

“It’s hurting,” she whines. 

He doesn’t believe her, but maybe it is a little uncomfortable. “Do you want to take a break? You’ll have to stay really still.” 

“Please pull them out.” 

“Alright, babe.” He tucks his hair behind his ears. “Let’s do this.” 

Eventually, with Roan near tears and Eddie worried you’re overwhelmed, you untangle the three bricks from her hair and brush away the matted tangles. “Sooo silky,” you murmur, leading the comb down to her small shoulders. 

“I think we’re done. You are restored to your former glory, babe,” Eddie says. 

Roan lifts her hands up and feels along her head. “No bricks?” 

“Totally fixed.” 

Roan stands up on the couch. Eddie eyes her suspiciously, but she wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek, reminiscent of how Eddie thanks her when she’s being good. “Thank you, dad.” 

He snorts. Roan beams at him and spins on her socked foot to hug you. You don’t get a kiss. You look overjoyed anyhow, quick to wrap her up and pat her back. “Thank you,” she says. 

“You’re welcome, princess.” You meet his eyes over her hair. “You’re more than welcome. No more stickles in your hair through, right?” 

“Right,” she says with an eager nod. 

Eddie shakes his head at you. This is the third time this month. 

[talkdutchtome]

"You're my forever" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . angst with fluffy end )

wc . . . 1250 words )

read my other work . . . here )

request something . . . here )

It was supposed to be a chill night out with your girlfriends, but when you turned up to the bar in tears; things ended up taking a turn. It only took a few tequila shots to spill what was on your mind to your friends. You and your boyfriend Max had gotten into a huge argument as you were getting ready to go out. You had been planning to introduce him to your parents for weeks now, and thanks to his busy schedule it had taken such a long time to find a date that suited everyone; but you had managed it. You found a date that worked and arranged everything, it was finally going to happen. Until Max informed you that he actually needed to be in the factory that day and therefore wasn’t going to make it.  

As the argument with Max replayed in your mind, you couldn't help but feel the surge of frustration all over again. It hurt, a lot. This was so important to you, and he knew that, you had checked he was free multiple times but he waited until two days before to tell you that he wasn’t going to make it. He had dismissed your feelings, brushing off the significance of meeting your parents as if it were inconsequential. Your patience had worn thin with his constant excuses and last-minute cancellations. The tension between you had been simmering for weeks, and this was just the tipping point. 

In the heat of the argument, harsh words were exchanged, wounds were reopened, and insecurities surfaced. You questioned the commitment of your relationship, wondering if Max truly understood your needs and priorities. Each accusation fuelled the fire of resentment, leaving both of you wounded and emotionally drained. 

But as you recounted the events to your friends, their sympathetic ears and flowing drinks provided a temporary escape from the pain. With each shot of tequila, the sharp edges of your hurt dulled, and the weight of disappointment lifted. Laughter replaced tears as you immersed yourself in the lively atmosphere of the bar, surrounded by the warmth of friendship. 

As the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing, you found yourself sinking deeper into a drunken haze. Your laughter became louder, your movements more unsteady, until you could barely stand on your own two feet. Your friends exchanged concerned glances as they realized you had gone past the point of no return. 

With a collective decision, they reached for their phones, dialling Max's number in a bid to get you home safely. It didn't take long for him to arrive at the bar, concern etched on his face as he scanned the crowded room for you. 

When he finally spotted you, his heart squeezed with a mixture of worry and affection. You were slumped against the bar, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes glazed over. As he approached, you caught sight of him and instinctively turned away, crossing your arms and pouting like a sulking child. 

Max couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of you. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny how adorable you looked, even in your drunken state. He settled down beside you, gently coaxing you to look at him and assuring you that everything was going to be okay. 

For a while, you remained stubbornly silent, refusing to acknowledge his presence. But as Max persisted, his patient demeanour slowly chipped away at your defences. Eventually, you relented, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulders and guide you out of the bar. 

The cool night air hit you like a refreshing wave, momentarily sobering you up as Max led you to his car. Exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the evening, you leaned heavily against him, your eyelids drooping with fatigue. As Max settled you into the passenger seat, you couldn't fight the overwhelming urge to rest your head on his shoulder. With a gentle smile, he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead before starting the engine and driving off into the night. 

As the car rolled down the familiar streets towards your home, Max stole glances at you, his heart heavy with concern. He wanted to address the issues that had caused the argument earlier, but seeing your bleary-eyed state, he knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he focused on getting you back safely. 

Once inside your apartment, Max gently guided you to your bedroom, helping you out of your party clothes and into your cozy pajamas. With practiced care, he wiped away the remnants of makeup from your face, knowing how much you disliked waking up with a face caked in cosmetics. 

As he tucked you into bed, Max couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the hurt he had caused you. He wished he could turn back time and make things right, but for now, all he could do was ensure you were comfortable and cared for. 

The next morning, you stirred from your slumber, the events of the previous night slowly coming back to you in fragmented memories. As you blinked blearily, your gaze fell upon the glass of water and painkillers sitting on your bedside table. 

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized what Max had done. Despite the unresolved tensions between you, his gesture spoke volumes about his concern for your well-being. With a grateful sigh, you reached for the glass, downing the painkillers in one gulp before sipping the water. 

As you stepped into the kitchen, the comforting aroma of your favorite breakfast filled the air, and your heart swelled with gratitude towards Max. He stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a focused expression, and you couldn't help but admire the way he effortlessly took care of you. 

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering him a warm smile. 

Max turned towards you, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Hey there, sleepyhead. How are you feeling this morning?" 

You shrugged, trying to downplay any lingering effects of the previous night's festivities. "Not too bad, actually. Thanks for asking." 

"Good," Max replied, his expression softening with relief. He moved to sit beside you, his hand finding yours as he spoke. "Listen, about last night... I'm really sorry for not prioritizing our relationship. I know meeting your parents was important, and I should've made more of an effort to be there for you." 

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, a wave of understanding washing over you. "It's okay, Max. I appreciate you saying that." 

He sighed, his gaze earnest as he continued. "I've rescheduled my day at the factory so I can make it to the meeting with your parents. And I promise, from now on, I'll make more time for us. I know racing won't last forever, but you... you're my forever. And I need to treat you better" 

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you listened to Max's heartfelt words. Despite the challenges you faced, his unwavering love and commitment never faltered, and you felt a surge of gratitude for having him in your life. 

"I love you, Max," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. 

"I love you too," he murmured, pulling you into a tender embrace. 

As you melted into his arms, surrounded by the warmth of his love and the promise of a brighter future together, you couldn’t help but be thankful to have somebody who loved you so much in your life 

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast React to you Cradling Them When They’re Upset

Sebastian Sallow

Sebastian craves physical comfort like a starving man craves bread, but he’s very rarely had the opportunity to express it. Solomon was not the hugging sort, Ominis typically loathes physical contact unless it’s necessary, and Anne… well. The curse makes it hard for her to bear a cuddle for long. Sebastian has trained himself to give brief hugs and pats on the back, if anything at all, worrying that he’ll be seen as clingy, needy, or annoying if he holds on too tight, or too long. The last thing he wants to be is annoying, least of all to you. He has to be strong, he has to be cheerful, he has to be the one that everyone relies on. That means he’s useful, and people will stay by him. He can’t be a burden, or he’ll be abandoned.

So when you find him in the Restricted Section, surrounded by books and weeping into his hands at the sheer hopelessness of everything, he’s stunned when your immediate reaction is to pull him into your lap. He tenses, embarrassed by his display of emotion and afraid of needing you too much. But the longer you hold him, the more his defences crumble, and it’s not long before he’s sobbing into your shoulder, unable to speak, desperate to be held, to be loved, to be given the affection he’s been denied for so long. He clings to you for hours, alternately apologising and crying some more.

Once he’s calmed down enough to think straight, he realises you’ve not let him go. He begins to worry, fretting that you’re only doing this to be nice, but you still don’t let him go. He begins to relax into you, accepting that finally, finally, he can hold and be held like he needs. He’s got years of missing affection to make up for, and this is only the start. From this moment, any moment not touching you is considered a moment wasted, and Sebastian will hold your hand, link your arms together, hook your ankle over his under the table, or simply sit close enough so his arm or leg is up against yours. That is, if he’s not outright hugging you or snuggling you. For the first few months, you’ll be lucky if you get five minutes to visit the loo alone, and he gets twitchy if you’re apart from him for too long.

He's yours for life. Treat him kindly.

Ominis Gaunt

Ominis isn’t really one for physical affection, especially if you’re only friends, or in the early stages of your relationship. He’s not used to it, almost afraid of it, having never really experienced it as a child, and disliking the rough, enthusiastic, inexperienced hugs his friends give. It’s nothing like the tender affection he craves, and ever the gentleman, he’s worried about overstepping his boundaries. Ever the traumatised soul, he’s afraid of asking for what he really wants. He knows this isn’t something he can demand, as he has been taught a Gaunt would.

He doesn’t emote much, especially negative emotions. He’s always been taught to hide negative feelings or any kind of extreme emotion, and he wears that self-control like armour. But he’s not infallible, things still get to him, especially as he bottles things up. So when a particularly barbed jab from another student gets under his skin, he retreats to the Undercroft to rant at the air. This is how you find him, striding up and down and shouting at nothing, as if he’s arguing with someone.

Of course, he’s very embarrassed to be found this way, and tries to cover it by sliding back into the careful neutrality he so often wears. You know better though. You sit behind him, slide your arms around his chest, and pull him into your lap, your hand at the back of his head, letting him rest against you.

It sparks a memory he thought he’d buried. He was four, he’d tripped over and scraped his knee. His parents had scolded him for crying, growing more irate as their harsh words upset him further, and then Aunt Noctua was there, lifting him into her arms and bearing him away from the pain and the anger that was all his parents ever gave him. She’d taken him to her rooms in the Manor and settled in a chair, holding his head to her chest and humming a lullaby, soothing him with a hand on the back of his head.

It’s one of the last memories he has of her, and as it surfaces, he breaks. No matter how much he tries to pull it back, he just can’t, and your arms are iron around him, like a cage. But it’s a cage he doesn’t want to be released from, craving the warmth of your embrace, longing for the love and safety that is such a distant, fragmented memory, something that seemed like an impossible dream until now. He feels he should be embarrassed by this horrendous display of failed control, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s a problem for future Ominis. Right now, all he cares about is the feel of your heartbeat against his cheek, the gentle scent of your skin, the feel of your body against his as you hold him so tenderly. To his utter disbelief, you hum a gentle melody. It’s not the lullaby Noctua used to sing, but it’s soft and warm and comforting.

After this, Ominis is much more free with his affection with you, though he still keeps it to a minimum around others. If he’s ever had a bad day, or just needs comforting, he leans into you in a particular way that you come to learn means he wants to be held like that again. He knows you’ll never judge him for it, and he loves you all the more because of it. He becomes increasingly protective of you, fearing losing you, but he is ever respectful of your boundaries.

When he thinks back over all the days you spent together, he realises the time you first held him like that was the moment his subconscious mind began planning your wedding, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

Garreth Weasley

Garreth is a naturally cheerful person, and while he can get irritable, it’s over quickly and he’s back to being happy. It’s very rare for him to get upset for any significant period of time, so it’s quite a shock when you find him in his dorm, head hanging, faded tear-tracks on his cheeks. He tries to brush it off, of course, to make a joke or try to make you laugh, but you know better. You sit beside him and ask, and he tries to change the subject. But with a little prodding, he eventually tells you, grudgingly, miserably, what's made him so down.

It doesn’t take much to convince him to curl up in your arms. Garreth has always been comfortable with affection, and would probably still climb in his mum’s lap if he didn’t worry that he’d flatten her. He’s worried that he’ll squash you and takes a good while for him to relax, but once he does, he fully flops on you, murmuring soft little sounds of contentment as you rub his back or play with his hair. If you try to pull away too soon, he pretends he’s still sad so you’ll cuddle him more, even if he’s feeling on top of the world that you’d be so kind to him.

It tells him that you’re just like him, happy to snuggle and happy to do what’s needed to make him feel good, as he would for you. He feels a deeper bond with you than before, and the rest of Hogwarts can expect to find the pair of you draped over each other in all corners of the castle after this.

Leander Prewett

It’s… a little awkward to begin with, especially because an upset Leander is often a hostile Leander, as it's the way he's learned how to protect himself. You eventually convince him to let you hold him, but it takes a while. Leander is very tall with rather long limbs, so getting him in your lap in the first place is a struggle, especially as he’s so resistant to begin with. He’s already embarrassed enough by being emotional then snappy in front of you, worried that you’re going to make fun of him or worse, pretend to be nice and tease him mercilessly later. It’s the last thing he needs. But, with a little coaxing (and a bit of tugging) you manage to settle him in your lap. Yeah, the height difference is even more noticeable now, but that doesn’t matter to you. You make sure he’s comfy and hold him tight, not saying a word, just letting your hug do the talking for you.

He doesn’t tell you what set him off this time, what made him so upset. But after a long while as he curls around you, his head on your shoulder, his legs dangling over the edge of the chair or bed on which you sit, he tells you little things about his past. Some of them are happy memories or silly stories. Some of them are not. Leander bears his soul to you in bits and pieces, every word he speaks the truth, and all you need to do is listen. This is the moment he truly falls for you, a helpless, headlong tumble, and he would fight a dragon with a wooden sword to keep you from this moment on.

Amit Thakkar

Amit has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and is free with his emotions around you once you two become firm friends, or a couple. He’s a gentleman through and through, though this is mostly down to his natural shyness. He prefers to focus on you and your problems than his own, assuring you that he’s perfectly alright if you find him feeling down. You find him one evening staring down at his telescope, on the verge of tears, as the lens has cracked. He doesn't mind telling you why it's so upsetting to him, expecting a hug or maybe a pat on the back. So it’s quite the surprise to him when you pull him into your lap and snuggle him close, and at first, he’s not sure what to do with himself. He holds himself very still and stiff, and you have to encourage him to relax more than once.

He soon finds himself sinking into your embrace, comforted by your presence and your kindness, the pair of you warming each other atop the chilly Astronomy Tower. He’ll freely admit to you what’s been preying on his mind as the lens was just the straw that broke the camel's back, and shyly admit he really enjoys this particular kind of cuddle. He’ll probably doze off in your lap if you sit like this too long, and Amit is a very heavy sleeper. If he manages to stay awake, he’ll run his hand over your back, trying to reciprocate some of the attention you’re giving him, trying to say without words just how much things like this mean to him.

He won’t indulge often, he likes to be the one holding you, but it’s comforting for him to know that it’s something he can enjoy if he truly needs a pick-me-up.

Andrew Larson

In all fairness, Andrew will be climbing into your lap the moment you give the barest hint that this is what you’re going to do when he’s upset. He’s free with his affection in a more subdued way than Garreth, perhaps, but he makes no secret of how much he loves being snuggled up in your lap. He loves the security of being held, especially if you play with his hair. It’s guaranteed to cheer him up in no time at all, no matter how low he’s feeling. He loves draping his head and arms over your shoulders, and if you’re strong enough to carry him, he’ll fall in love with you if you carry him to bed when he starts to drift off.

In fact, Andrew loves this attention and affection so much he might even make himself get all teary eyed if it means you’ll draw him into your lap and rock him back and forth, even if there’s nothing actually wrong. Once he learns you’ll cuddle him the way he wants regardless if whether he’s actually upset or not, he’ll quit with the crocodile tears and swap them for happy little giggles.

Poppy Sweeting

You’ve barely put your arms around her before Poppy has slung her arms around your neck, swinging her legs up and snuggling into your chest. It’s almost as if she’s been made to fit especially in your lap, her cheek fitting perfectly into the crook of your shoulder. She might play with your hair a little to distract herself from whatever it is that’s upset her, but she’ll be honest with you if you ask what the matter is. She’s always been a cuddly sort, and regardless of whether you’re simply friends or are dating, Poppy’s always going to be giving you hugs or asking for piggyback rides (or just climbing on you anyway). This is a natural progression for the both of you, though Poppy will most likely want to do the same for you the next time you’re upset.

She’s stronger than she looks, so don’t worry about squashing her.

Natsai Onai

Natsai has always been an affectionate soul, but she’s also tough as old iron and rarely shows when she’s upset unless it’s about to overcome her. She learned in her fifth year that she could always reach out to you when she was upset, so that’s what she does. It’s still a surprise for her when you pull her into your lap to hold her, she was only expecting a friendly pat on the back or perhaps a brief hug, but your gesture is welcome nonetheless. It reminds her of the way her father would hold her when she was little, and she takes great comfort in it. It’s not something Natsai will tolerate for long, as she’s always been good at recovering from upset quickly, and being an energetic soul, it’s not long before she’s fidgeting and wanting to move about. She prefers to be the one holding you at any rate, and can sit still for hours if she does. She’s always felt much more comfortable in giving affection than receiving it, though she really does enjoy it when you do.

Imelda Reyes

Lol are you joking? When Imelda’s upset she wants to be alone, and if you try and intrude on her when she’s having a bad day or worse, actually crying, she’ll chase you all through the Highlands just to beat you up. Sure, she’ll probably apologise afterwards when she’s calmed down, but she’s got a reputation to uphold as Hogwarts’ baddest bitch, and she won’t ever let anyone see her cry, let alone in anyone’s lap. Now, if it’s you that’s upset? You can bet your arse she won’t let you get off her lap unless you’re about to pass out or are busting for a piss.

Masterlist

[antimony-medusa]

See, the great fun with Pissa is I feel like any way you headcanon it you can make an arguable defence for it.

non-romantic, non-sexual QPR? Well they said with their mouths that it was platonic, and they're not THAT demonstrative. Kissing for a dare doesn't mean you kiss all the time. this can work. The important part is that they are A FAMILY look we got 4/4 family I'm weeping.

romantic, non-sexual QPR? Jumping to punch someone at the idea that they set up a date with your platonic husband? I see you. You are gonna be cuddling in bed later, aren't you.

QPR but they kiss and have sex? I saw you casualonasing on your husband, Phil. That was going to be picked up later, I just know it. Platonic just means you define it yourself, I'm picking up what you're laying down. Fucking but you're aro about it. Based honestly.

Romantic relationship and yes they fuck nasty? Okay with the people on this server including Wilbur and Baghera I would also loudly insist that my relationship was platonic so nobody asked me what my husband's dick looked like. I don't know I've never seen it and it's never been in my mouth. Don't ask me these things. Nope. (Meanwhile torrid romance.) I can track it.

They fully don't know what it is, it's just an arranged marriage that's turning into something new when they see each other every so often? Based. Who needs labels anyways. I will tag it as &/ and take my chances. I bet they held hands when they were sleeping.

There's nothing tender feelings happening Phil is simply gay4pay. Honestly I've only seen one person advocating this but it is so funny to me. You get that bag, Philza Minecraft. Missa staring pleadingly at his government-assigned-husband while Phil counts his pieces of leather and thinks about escape. Fantastic.

That's the glory of Minecraft roleplay, you fully get to fill in the blanks! The important thing is WE WIN THESE with all of yesterday.

[alesandraelin]

𝙳𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚢 - 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎𝚊!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

description: the aftermath of the London derby

warning: smut, 18+ only

The roar of the crowd filled the air as the two teams took the field, the fierce rivalry between Arsenal and Chelsea took place at Stamford bridge. Leah scanned the pitch, her eyes locking with yours, Chelsea's best winger. Your gazes held a mixture of intensity and affection, it was never easy but it was your jobs.

The whistle blew, and the game was on. Both teams fought fiercely, each determined to gain the upper hand. Leah lead Arsenal's defence, making crucial tackles. Your lighting pace and precision being a constant threat to their backline.

As the match wore on, the tension mounted. Neither side was willing to give an inch. Then, in the 80th minute, you pounced on a loose ball and raced towards goal. Leah, in a desperate attempt to stop you, lunged in with a sliding tackle. The referee blew her whistle, signalling a penalty to Chelsea.

You stepped up, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew Leah would be devastated if you scored. But this was a derby, and the stakes were high. With a deep breath, you struck the ball, sending it past the goalkeeper and into the top left corner of the goal. Stamford Bridge was instantly filled with the roar of the Chelsea fans and the groans of their opposition. Your teammates immediately running over to you in celebration.

The final whistle blew 20 minutes later, and the Chelsea players erupted in celebration. Torn between joy and guilt, you sought out Leah. You found you partner sitting on the bench, head in her hands.

Gently, you approached, placing a hand on Leah's shoulder."Babe, I'm so sorry," You whispered, your voice laced with emotion.

Leah looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Don't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just leave me alone."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Leah cut you off. "I need some space," she said, turning away.

You watched helplessly as Leah walked away, your heart breaking for the woman she loved. You knew Leah took losses hard, but this was different. This was personal.

Chelsea celebrated their victory long into the night. you, however, couldn't fully enjoy the moment. Your mind kept drifting back to Leah, wondering if she was okay.

As the party wound down, You made your way back to the apartment you shared with Leah, Jess dropping you home. You hesitated before unlocking the door, unsure of what you would find on the other side.

When you opened the door, you find Leah sitting on the couch, her eyes red from crying.

"Hey," You say softly, sitting down next to her.

"Hey," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.We sat in silence for a moment, the tension thick.

You wanted to reach out and hold her, but you weren't sure if she would welcome your touch. "I'm sorry," you finally said.

Leah nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I just... I feel like I let the team down. I shouldn't have gone in like that, I let the team down and I could've injured you."

You moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her. "It's not your fault, babe. You played your heart out. Results will not always be how you want. I'm perfectly fine."

Leah leaned into your embrace and she looked up at you, her eyes shining with love and gratitude. "I love you" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Leah," you replied, pressing your lips to hers in a tender kiss.

As your kiss deepened, you felt the tension melt away, replaced by a burning desire. Leah's hands roamed your body, igniting a fire within you. You stumbled to the bedroom, both of your clothes falling to the floor in a trail.

Leah's anger melted away. "I'm feeling a bit... frustrated." Her eyes darkened with desire as she pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly despite your differences. "And I think you should help me with that."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the familiar spark of arousal ignite within you. Leah's dominant nature always sent shivers down your spine "Of course, anything for you," you whispered, your voice husky with need.

Leah growled softly, her hands grasping your hips possessively. She lowered her head, her lips trailing along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. "Get on the bed, baby," she murmured, her hot breath tickling your ear. "I want to taste you."

You whimpered, already dripping with anticipation. You did as you were told, climbing onto the bed and positioning yourself comfortably on the soft sheets. Leah joined you, kneeling between your thighs, her eyes glittering with lust as she took in the sight before her.

Leah ran her hands along your thighs, spreading them wider to expose your core. She leaned in, inhaling the sweet scent of your arousal before parting your lips with her thumbs and pressing her mouth to the pulsing heat within.

You gasped at the first touch of Leah's tongue, moaning as your lover lapped at her juices, swirling her tongue around your clit before plunging it deep inside you. Leah knew exactly how to drive her wild, and she took her time, teasing and tasting, drawing out your pleasure until you were writhing and begging for release.

"Please, Leah," you panted, your fingers tangling in Leah's hair. "I'm so close. Don't stop."

Leah hummed in response, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You cried out, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Leah rode out the storm, her mouth bringing you back down.

"I wanna use the strap on you baby." Leah whispered in your ear as she hovered above you again.

A shiver ran down your spine at Leah's words, and she reached for the nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. She poured some onto her fingers, rubbing it between her palms to warm it up before reaching down to stroke your swollen core.

You moaned, spreading your legs wider to give Leah better access. Leah teased you, circling her fingers around your sensitive clit before sliding two fingers deep inside you, scissoring them to stretch her open. "You like that, baby?" she whispered, leaning down to nibble on your ear.

"Mm Leah please." You practically begged as she teased you.

Hearing your plea, Leah wasted no time. She reached for the strap-on that you had bought for these very occasions and buckled it around her waist, adjusting the harness until it fit snugly.

She positioned herself between your spread thighs, taking a moment to admire the view. You looked breathtaking, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each rapid breath, your pussy glistening with need. Leah wanted to take her time, but the sight before her was too much to bear.

She guided the tip of the dildo to your entrance, pushing slowly inside, inch by inch, until she was buried to the hilt. Leah groaned and your back arched as you felt yourself stretched and filled. "Move, Leah," You moan.

Leah didn't need to be told twice. She began to thrust, slowly at first, but soon picking up the pace as your moans filled the room. She watched as her cock disappeared into your body, again and again, the wet, sucking sounds filling the air. Leah's clit catching on the base of the strap with each and every thrust, her moans being drawn out alongside yours.

Your legs wrapped around her waist as she picked up the pace. "Fuck Leah. Don't stop, I'm close." You moan as Leah speeds up even more at your words, your orgasm quickly approaching.

You threw your head back as your were finally pushed over the edge, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Leah carefully removed herself and discarded the strap to be dealt with later.

Finally, you collapsed back onto the bed, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Leah crawled up beside you, a smug smile on her face. "Feeling better?" she asked, her voice laced with satisfaction.

You nodded, a lazy smile on your face. "Mmm, much. But now it's my turn to take care of you." She rolled over, straddling Leah's hips and looking down at her with a mischievous glint in her eye. "What do you say, Leah? Do you want me to make you feel good too?"

Leah's eyes darkened with desire, and she reached up to pull you down for a passionate kiss. "Please baby, I need you." Leah tells you.

That was all you needed so begin as your un hooked yourself from her waist and started pressing soft kisses down her chest, trailing down her stomach before pressing a harder kiss on her clit. This drew a soft moan from the blonde below you.

You wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked softly as her moans grew louder, you trailed down from her clit to her entrance. You tongue moving passionately on her, hitting that spot that drove her absolutely crazy.

You could tell she was getting close as she tugged at the roots of your hair. You mouth returned to suck and flick on her clit as two fingers entered her. Leah's deep moans were like music to your ears as she told you she was close. You fingers and tongue speeding up as she reached her peak, you lapped up all of her bliss and brought her back down from her high.

You moved away from her legs and attached yourself to her body, arms wrapping around her shoulders. "I love you Le." You mumble into her shoulder tiredly, her hands running up and down your back soothingly.

"I love you more baby. I'm sorry for almost hurting you my love" Leah kissed the top of your head lovingly, clinging onto you like a lifeline as your soft snores replaced the staggered breathing.

[fluffy-dixon]

Hold My Girl

The prison walls stood as our fragile shield against the relentless threats of the outside world. Fear clung to the air, a constant companion in our desperate struggle for survival. We were a community bound by necessity, not camaraderie. Sleep was elusive, and relaxation a distant memory. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of leaves beyond the walls, sent our hearts racing. The Governor haunted us, a malevolent force that could strike at any moment.

In those rare moments of respite, we worked tirelessly to reinforce our defences. The walls were patched, barricades erected, and weak spots fortified. There was no time for idle chatter or laughter. Gone were the days when Beth’s gentle songs could lift our spirits. Now, silence reigned, punctuated only by the scrape of shovels against dirt and the distant howls of the undead.

Daryl’s hunting prowess provided a lifeline, and the small vegetable garden yielded just enough to supplement our dwindling rations. Today, Carol had concocted a stew—a humble blend of whatever ingredients we could scrounge up. You had spent the afternoon assisting her, chopping vegetables, and stirring the pot. The warmth of the fire and the aroma of the stew offered a fleeting comfort.

As darkness enveloped the prison, weary figures shuffled back inside. Daryl, always the last to return, bore the weight of exhaustion. His crossbow hung loosely across his back, and his shoulders sagged. Fatigue etched lines on his face, and his footsteps dragged. A silent yawn escaped him, and he rubbed his eyes with calloused hands.

Then, he sought you out. Those piercing blue eyes, weathered and battle-worn, locked onto yours. A smile—a rare sight in these grim times—curved his lips. Butterflies danced in your stomach; you were the beacon of light in his darkness. He moved toward you, bypassing Carol’s offered plate. His singular focus was clear: to be near you, to find solace in your presence amidst the chaos.

In that dimly lit refuge, where fear clung to the walls like shadows, Daryl’s presence enveloped you. His arms, muscular and strong, drew you close—your body fitting seamlessly against his. The rough pads of his fingertips traced the delicate curve of your spine, igniting a trail of goosebumps. His other hand tangled in the strands of your hair.

Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, he leaned down—a weary warrior seeking solace. His lips met yours—a kiss that held hunger and tenderness in equal measure. In this fragile sanctuary, he reveled in vulnerability. You were his anchor, the one who brought light to his battle-worn soul.

Breaking the kiss, he held you still. His head rested atop yours, and he sighed—an exhale that carried the weight of the day. His body melted into yours, seeking refuge from the relentless fight for survival. You swayed gently, a dance of shared weariness and unspoken promises. But then, a primal sound erupted—the grumble of hunger from within him.

“You should eat,” you suggested, practical and caring.

His reply came, soft and unguarded: “Mhmm, jus’ needed to hold ya first.”

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— playing defence + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — you bitch slap kaiser for talking smack about your boyfriend. perhaps isagi is rubbing off on you.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, crack, fluff, suggestive towards the end, violence, smack talk, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, established relationship, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 2.2K.

⭑ notes — greetings all! isagi brain rot is so real rn, i swear i have like six wips for him... anyways this was a silly little idea that popped into my head lmao kinda cringe but i had fun with it !! enjoy ! - m.list ✩

your boyfriend is somewhat of a conundrum.

the world knows yoichi isagi as the ruthless heart of blue lock’s success. a man that’s unrelenting on the field with his strategic mind and frightening air of dominance poured into his every play. every movement he makes is calculated meticulously, the greed for a goal simmering in his blood. isagi as a pro player is foul mouthed and messy — taunting his opponent until they crumble into nothing but dust before his very eyes.

the media thinks he’s cocky, but rightfully so. after all yoichi isagi is the catalyst for a new generation of japanese soccer. the girls love him, he’s charming in interviews without meaning to be — they like how he talks about you. as if you’re a gem that’s worth millions. precious.

the isagi that you know has a tender touch and his soul warm, he wears his heart right on his sleeve and never lets you go a moment without knowing you’re appreciated. the isagi that you know is encouraging, he’s always on your side. if he needs to, he’ll sweet talk you with honey glazed words and kiss you until your thoughts fizzle out into stardust.

isagi is good.

he’s good to his friends, his teammates, his parents — he’s almost too good to be true. as if he’s been peeled from the pages of a shoujo romance manga or ripped from the silver screen of a perfect Hollywood romcom. a literal walking green flag. you’d say that you were lucky to have him, and yoichi would spin it on you — using strings of sweet words to express just how deep and profound his love is for you, praising you just enough to melt you into a love sick puddle of goo. and he’d mean it, sincerity swirling in his whirlpooling blue eyes. he swears by it.

so when someone pisses your isagi off, when they hurt him — you can’t help but lose your shit.

it happens during a practise match with a few of the players that joined during the neo-egoist league. although it’s been years since then and the blue lock project has become a formidable team, it keeps the boys on their feet to play with those with other worldly styles of soccer. the match had been going well, isagi trailblazing across the pitch and leaving nothing but a trail of destruction and despair behind — you were proud of him, amazed by him and the talents he possesses. to see him in his element makes your heart swell.

you don’t know kaiser very well — just that he’s super big and plays for the german team that gave isagi his leg up in the soccer world. you’ve heard from others about how much of a dick he could be and the intense rivalry he had with your boyfriend back when the blue lock project first started. you don’t know kaiser well but that information alone was enough to get your back up whenever he was in close range of yoichi.

and rightfully so. because you see the way he prods and pokes at the beautiful, sensitive parts of your lover as they race across to the penalty area. you notice how it rattles isagi, gets him all up in his head. you hear kaiser say something along the lines of:

“what’s with your shitty plays, yoichi? surely if you’re the heart of blue lock then the future of soccer is bound to be doomed.” he skirts around your boyfriend, intercepting a pass he was meant to receive from nagi. “pathetic, to see how much this star has fallen. i should crush you.”

you’ve heard all the insults the blue lock boys throw at each other before but this is nothing like usual. rin itoshi has said much worse to isagi right in front of your face (and isagi right back, foul mouthed motherfucker) but you know that’s a defence mechanism to how rin truly thinks and feels.

michael kaiser is just an asshole, plain and simple.

and that kind of behaviour doesn’t fly with you when it comes to yoichi.

you storm onto the pitch from the sidelines before your mind can even catch up to your body. the other players working around your boyfriend and his rival stop their movements as you stroll past them, snapped out of their egoist state by the referee whistle that calls for you to stop.

“m-ma’am! you can’t be on the pitch!”

you walk right past ness, weave between kurona, bachira and hiori, and right up to the blonde haired perpetrator himself. you’re polite about it too, tapping him on the shoulder to interrupt the narcissistic monologue he’s giving to isagi and showing him your sweetest, kindest smile.

there’s a split second before the blunt force of your fist collides with michael kaiser’s cheek and he’s knocked to the ground from the weight of it.

“you better watch who the fuck you’re talking to, you clownish freak.”

“babe?” isagi jumps into action despite his shock and the sniggers from other players on the field. he wraps his strong arms around your middle and tugs you into his chest with a winded laugh. “precious, what are you doing here?”

“he can’t talk to you like that!”

“but baby, you can’t be here—“

“this isn’t good.” bachira sings from a safe distance.

“fuck! what the actual fuck?” kaiser swears, using the sleeve of his jersey to wipe the blood from his bruising nose. “who’s crazy groupie is this?”

another wave of anger crashes through your veins, your blood at its boiling point as his words register within you. “excuse me?” isagi snarls, clearly unimpressed, loosening his hold on you while you struggle against your boyfriend’s lean frame.

“so what? you get your girlfriend to play defence for you and then act like i’m in the wrong? i said, get this groupie away from me—!”

before anyone on the pitch can realise, you’re free from isagi’s hold and you’re on kaiser like white on rice — fisting his sweatshirt between the same pretty fingers that treat isagi like he’ll break with too much force. “you wanna say that again, shitstain?” you run your tongue over your teeth, the menacing glint to your eye making you look like you’re a predator about to hunt down her prey. the blonde shakes underneath you as you pin him to the grass — an insult rolling around on his tongue. “i wouldn’t waste my words. you should just lay down and die before you take another sucker punch from this groupie.”

“do you have any idea how much this face is worth? i should—“

“gimme a break michael kaiser,” to your left you can hear bachira chanting something about ‘no violence’, bouncing around excitedly and a wicked grin tugs on the corner of your lips. “you’re not worth shit to me. so keep fucking around and find out, pretty boy. you talk smack about yoichi again and i swear your face won’t be the only goods i damage.”

“jeez, you’re just as crazy as that wanna be protagonist over there—“ is all he can muster before he flinches back from your fists that raise a over your head.

isagi moves quicker this time, scooping you up from underneath your armpits despite how you huff, puff and protest. “alright, alright, you’re done here. let’s go, princess.” he says sheepishly. maybe he’s been rubbing off on you a little too much.

his comforting touch slides down to your hand, grabbing at it to drag you off the pitch for the sake of kaiser’s safety, keeping everyone else out of harms way. and isagi just about gets you off the green before you set your sights on your next victim — ness, who can’t help but make faces at you as you trudge after your boyfriend.

drawing a line over your throat with your thumb, you make direct eye contact with him. “you’re next, shitty little meat-rider—! ow! ‘ichi!” you bark, but isagi quickly scoops you up again like a cat holding her kitten by the nape.

you have no choice but to back down for now.

“yanno, you really didn’t have to do that.”

isagi let’s you go once you’re back in the locker rooms to check on your hand. he crouches before you (where you sit just a level above him on the metal bench), holding an ice pack to your knuckles with the trace of a smile on his lips, only lifting it to see if the swelling has gone down. isagi reads you like an open book, he’s got you all figured out so he leaves you with the space to react and have your little tantrums.

besides, it’s cute that you get so pissed off when it comes to him. watching your nose scrunch up and your lips twist into a pout while you fight your own outburst just makes his heart beat for you a little faster.

“oh i fucking did! he was being so horrible to you and i couldn’t just let it slide!” you huff as your temper flares, shoulders sagging and arms crossing over your chest. he says nothing for a moment and lifts the compress from your hand to check the damage.

“look at you, precious girl. you’ve only gone and hurt yourself,” even when you’re throwing a fit like this, yoichi can only see the beauty in you — his cheeks flushing at how much you care for him. the dark haired striker flips through a first aid kit that rests at your feet, looking for disinfectant to clean up your split knuckles. “and, as for kaiser… well, he’s always like that.”

“well, i don’t like kaiser. i hope a bird shits on his head and both sides of his pillows are warm.”

“bird shit is supposed to be a sign of good luck, baby.”

“don’t test me yoichi isagi.”

he dabs at your wounds with a cotton pad and a brownish liquid that smells like the dettol your mom would keep in the cabinet under the kitchen sink for when you got yourself into similar situations like this as a kid. but instead of scolding you like she would, yoichi tends to your cuts and scrapes either upmost care. still smiling to himself. smiling at you. resisting the urge to burst with affection.

“you’re gonna have to apologise, precious.” he mutters absentmindedly, wincing when you do.

“i-i’m not going to, he deserved it!” that much is true, kaiser is clown who needs to be put in his place but it shouldn’t have been by you and at the expensive of your precious hands getting hurt.

you’re in more pain than you’re willing to show, and it bothers isagi just a little bit that you’re experiencing it because of him.

“well he did, but ego won’t be happy.”

“did ego make you apologise for all those times you beat the crap out of your teammates for even looking at me? for stealing your goals?” you roll your eyes, leaning away from your doting boyfriend in protest.

isagi grabs at your wrist firmly, tugging you back into place so he can start wrapping your hand up — ignoring the way his face and the tips of his ears start to burn up in embarrassment. “well no… but that’s different. friendly competition.”

“hardly! may i remind you that shidou literally couldn’t walk for a week straight after he commented on my ass? because of you?”

“i was defending your honour! and keep still!”

you give isagi a pointed look. hypocrite. “okay, but what about when rin said you couldn’t fuck for the life of you and then you proved your point. using me. in front of him. was that about honour or about your ego? mister egoist.” isagi’s big blue eyes instantly shoot up to meet yours and blushes a crimson that could rival the shade of the older itoshi brother’s hair. “itoshi couldn’t look at me for weeks!”

“point taken.” knowing that he won’t win this argument (if you could even call it that), isagi finishes up with bandaging your hand and takes a seat next to you, a comfortable silence settling over you both while he attempts to piece together why you love him this much. to play knight in shining armour to his damsel in distress.

“are you…really going to make me apologise yoichi?” you ask him sheepishly after some time, leaning into him for comfort.

“not if you don’t want to, precious.” he hums, fondly brushing a thumb over the back of your bandaged hand. a silent thank you. a hidden i love you.

“good,” you whine now that all of your adrenaline’s worn off and you can really feel the consequences of punching a world class striker in the face. “now kiss my knuckles. they hurt.” holding up your hand to isagi’s face, you shake it as if to rid yourself of the painful ebb to it.

“better?” isagi complies, his lips soft against your skin.

“much.”

“so spoilt,” he adds. your boyfriend’s voice stays low while he plays with your bruised fingers and checks them over, resting his head against your own affectionately. “next time you throw a punch in my name, tuck your thumb into your fist to minimise the damage. i don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

“so you did like seeing me punch kaiser.” you giggle, squirming when isagi drops your hand to pull you into his lap possessively. his loving grin spreads even further when your eyes widen at a certain…hardness poking your inner thigh.

“oh yeah, super hot. i love it when you get mad ‘n start talking shit for me.”

isagi doesn’t make it back to practice, too caught up in showing you just how much he loves it when you start fights over him.