#I hope one day to regain my love for drawing again.

[cjoatprehn]

In agreement with OP here.

As someone whose OCs were called a Mary Sue, or other gendered equivalent, completely changed how I wrote and created my characters, stories, blueprints, and all. It forced me to balance and overthink them so they wouldn’t get shit on for being too much. I face the worry of being “too much” enough as it is.

It tanked my joy. It affected my creativity. While my characters are more elaborate now, they…*sighs*

Heck even in places where making an OC doesn’t always happen, folks often shit on or talk negative adjacent of characters for being “Meta” or “Overpowered” or “Well-liked.”

What happened to having fun? What happened to creativity being an outlet? What happened to creative transmutation outlets?

What about joy? Loving what you create instead of constantly having folks bring criticism (and often when it relates to the above) to it?

It’s part of why I struggle to draw. My viewpoint on me making visual art or sometimes writing has been damaged incredibly.

Not gone tell folks what to do (folks are gonna do what they want anyways no matter how harmful it is) but it needs to be said.

Stop doing this to folks who enjoy their OCs as they are and otherwise. Leave them be.

Gods.

I am actually so serious I think it really messes with a childs creativity and joy to tell them to never make a mary sue OC. Like that unbridaled form of joy where you make a self insert OC who super cool and everyone loves them and they have every superpower in the world SHOULD be something a kid makes, it nourishes their ability to create things for fun and not be stifled by "oh but what if my character is too overpowered and cringey...". whatever

[swordgrace]

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the wake of his burning, aegon’s recovery is marked by rage and insecurities. he pushes you away, but it is your comforting embrace that he desires above all else.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 7.4K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), hurt/comfort, post rook’s rest aegon, aegon isn’t a good person but he’s tormented, unstable marriage, talk of insecurities, wound/scar descriptions, p in v sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, body worship (m & f receiving), lots of kissing & comfort/reassurance, very desperate aegon, begging, sub-ish aegon, reader is on top, riding/cowgirl, mutual orgasm, fingering (fem!rec), soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Aegon, so please be gentle + any feedback/critique on his character is appreciated! He’s quite difficult to write for. Either way, I absolutely loved writing this, and I hope that you all enjoy it, too! As always, thank you for your continued love & support. ❤️

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞. It spread its blazing roots to those cast within it, leaving them hideously scarred or deformed, or perhaps leaving them with nothing left at all.

Grand Maester Orwyle had said that your husband may never walk again — that he may never draw breath again.

The harrowing memory of soot-stained knights hauling your husband in on nothing more than a swath of linen tied to sticks, placing him gently onto your marital bed had haunted you for several weeks since its occurrence. You could recall the pungent scent of charred flesh, the ragged rasps of Aegon’s breathing, the labor and sweat of Maesters working tirelessly to save him.

It was the labored wheeze of his breathing that continued to linger within the recesses of your mind, a sound so hoarse and weak that you wondered if he would survive. Watching your husband become a shell of his former self was never pleasant — you wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even your worst enemy.

Aegon showed a resilience that few thought him capable of — the will to survive, to endure and spite his brother served him well. Even if each breath made him ache and each step had rattled his bones, he continued to progress, showing an astounding level of improvement in a short amount of time.

Fire was the end of all things, but not for him.

The observant gazes of those denizens dwelling within the Red Keep often looked upon Aegon with despair, and perhaps pity — it was a pity that he despised, one that made him quiver with rage. He had been made a cripple by his brother, an undesirable.

No one would want him now — not even you, his resplendent wife, a dutiful creature who had solemnly stood by his side, even after his numerous sins he committed against you. He was burnt and ugly, half of his face marred by a web of scars, ear twisted, silvery hair missing on part of his skull.

It was contempt that fueled him now, and he continued to play the part of a wounded, forgetful dog whenever Aemond was near, but in the sanctity of his chambers, he cursed his brother to whatever Gods would hear him.

If they heard him at all.

With each passing day, Aegon regained strength, yet he used a cane to aid in his unsteady gait. He rarely emerged from his chambers, not wanting to be looked upon as if he were some wounded animal in-need of coddling. Wallowing within his own misfortune became commonplace.

You visited him each day when he was still unconscious, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand within yours, yet Aegon had convinced himself that you no longer loved him. What woman would sensibly love him, after everything he’d done? If you were intelligent, you would dissolve your marriage and find a new lover, cast him into the shadows where he belonged.

Aegon had forbidden you to see him for weeks now, likely out of his own fear of rejection, or seeing the horrified look on your face with his own eyes. Orwyle spoke of your tenderness, how you never left his side when he lay bedridden — he could scarcely fathom it, if he were honest with himself.

The evening was a dour one in King’s Landing, marked by the encroaching threat of war, and supposed riots that had broken out across the city. Aegon sometimes laughed to himself — Aemond never cared about the smallfolk nor their desires, and his former hand had discouraged him from catering to those less fortunate.

It gave him some twinge of satisfaction, knowing that he wasn’t that stupid — not as dull and thick-headed as so many believed him to be. The burden of being King had been forced upon him, even when he never wanted it, and so he had no choice but to simply adapt.

He molded himself to a role that never belonged to him anyway, attempting to fit himself into a puzzle that he was never in to begin with.

Acceptance — he had come to realize that perhaps, unseen forces had tarried and toiled to put him on a Throne that wasn’t his birthright. Even then, Aegon was still the King — but a broken one. Who would ever look to a shattered King for guidance, or to lead them?

Dusk blanketed the city, casting its shadow over the Red Keep, a starless sky — it was instead marked by the black haze of clouds that concealed all, even the moonlight. The Keep itself seemed wrought with tension, one that threatened to snap at any moment.

With Aemond on some warpath, the smallfolk calling for blood, and his own mother dismissed from the Small Council, part of him simply thrived within the chaos, the mess made by his younger brother. It was satisfying to know that even he was not fit to rule — not like he imagined himself to be.

His walk around the corridors had been cut short when he caught a glimpse of Aemond, with Orwyle taking him back to his chambers. Aegon could walk without assistance, yet the distance was never one of any merit.

Much of his unoccupied moments were spent drowning in Dornish Red, or perhaps the most surprising thing of all, reading. He was never the studious child — he preferred merriment and whoremongering over the study of High Valyrian and the histories. Being gnarled like this had forced his hand — perhaps he could still become a learned man.

The Kingsguard he had appointed were gone, sent to join the Night’s Watch or beheaded for insubordination — he had no friends here, nothing left except himself and his mind, still perfectly intact. Now, Aegon intended to sharpen what was left of it, if he could in such a short amount of time.

He spent many of his days in fear — fear of Aemond poisoning his drink or slithering into his chambers like the fanged viper that he was to torment him, or perhaps stick Aegon’s Dagger into his chest. There was time left still for his mad cunt of a brother to finish what he’d started.

As the doors to his chambers rattled, Aegon immediately grabbed the shortsword he kept alongside his cane, breathing becoming strained and heavy. “Who is it?” He barked, palm planted against the sturdy mahogany of his large table.

“The Queen, your Grace.” Ser Belgrave, one of the last decent Kingsguard left in the Red Keep, opened the door just enough for you to see your husband, alive and conscious. He stood watch for a beat, and then closed the doors behind him, leaving you alone with Aegon.

Aegon didn’t know what to say — he was rageful and bitter, and having you here to gawk at him did nothing to quell those feelings. He did admire you from across the room, taking in the plane of cerulean silk you wore, shrouded by a pale robe. Your eyes were indiscernible — he could not tell how you felt from where he sat.

You were, perhaps, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon — and he had seen so many. He recalled when he first saw you in the Grand Sept in your wedding gowns, so shy and saccharine, like the first warmth of springtime. It wasn’t a union he cared for or desired, but duty demanded that he wed you, and you would give him heirs.

So much of his time was wasted in the arms of whores who cared for nothing save the size of his coin purse, when it all should’ve been dedicated to you — the last person who truly cared for him.

“Aegon,” There was not an ounce of reproach within your voice, and instead, it was all a breathy sigh of relief. You had only seen him in-passing, walking alongside Grand Maester Orwyle or Lord Larys Strong. He had not allowed you to see him fully, until now. “I …”

“Save your pity,” Aegon quipped, turning away from you as he turned inward upon his books, instead. Gods, he felt wretched for constantly causing you such agony, but he could not endure the sight of you seeing him. “Have you come to see the withered King?” He mumbled, voice riddled with disdain.

Aegon was not an easy husband — and your union had been fraught with strife, hallmarked by his love of whores and wine, his absence felt by you each and every moment. You had passed this off as reality — this was what marriage was, and you had no choice but to accept it or crack beneath the pressure.

Even now, you were willing to forgive him.

Instead, you gathered your skirts and inched closer, longing to look upon him again with your own eyes. He had always been a beautiful man, so handsome with those regal Targaryen features that it often stole your breath away — and that hadn’t changed.

“I missed you,” You confessed, and it made Aegon’s throat become unbearably thick. Tears stung his eyes, tears born of frustration, an inner hatred and disgust, a disbelief that you truly meant any of this. “I thought that I could stay with you this evening.”

“No,” Aegon retorted, voice trembling at the bottom of his throat as he shook his head. “I do not want you here. I forbid you from seeing me. What part of that do you not understand?” His rage swelled — but not at you. He was so angry with himself that it began to manifest in uncouth ways.

It stung you, but not as much as you thought. Aegon kept you away, pushed you out to arm’s length because he feared what you might think of him. Being beloved and liked by those around him, the desire for attention and adoration, was perhaps one of his greatest flaws. When he could not find validation, it was easy to find it with a whore instead, or in the simpleminded lickspittles.

If Dornish Red could talk, perhaps he would find whatever comfort he sought there, too.

He reached for his goblet of wine, hand unsteady as he held it to his lips, and even then, he looked absolutely pathetic when taking a swig. “I cannot even drink without looking fucking pathetic,” Aegon snarled, letting out a bark of humorless laughter. “I cannot walk without being gazed upon like a wounded animal.”

At last, you began to understand where this anguish came from, where it all manifested. As much as you pitied your husband for the tragedy that had befallen him, you admired his resilience, his desire to endure and push on, even if it was most unpleasant.

“Aegon …” As your soft palm reached to rest against his shoulder, he violently jerked away, recoiling as if it were you that had burned him. “I am here for you. We are still married — allow me to continue to be your wife.” You whispered, flinching when he let out a sardonic laugh.

The scars were everywhere, enveloping half of his body, still aching with a dull pain that he muddied with poultices and Orwyle’s draughts. Aegon refused to take Milk of the Poppy, enduring his agony in different ways, ones that many would consider to be harder.

“Gods, how cunning you are — you play the role of naivety so well,” Aegon hissed, attempting to pull himself up from his table, hand reaching for his cane. “I am burnt, I am disgusting, and I am a cripple. You are not here for me — I do not want your pity!” He growled, voice raising to a tempestuous level.

You did not press him further, but you could see the tears glistening within his lilac hues, spilling down his cheeks as he began to laugh. The sound was grating and hollow, devoid of any amusement — just emptiness. He used what momentum he had to stand, grip ironclad and white-knuckled around his wooden beam of support.

“Why must you continue to push me away, Aegon? Have you not done it enough?” You questioned, voice sharp and wrought with emotion, sentiments that you had been repressing for so long, for the entirety of your marriage. “Must I always justify why I want to be your wife? We are married — I love you.”

Aegon froze, tears spilling over his face, countenance one of complete and utter bewilderment. He could not discern if you were genuine or simply conniving, or if you were being true. You had told him that you loved him before, and he always cast it aside — maybe you had truly meant it all this time, and he was too indifferent to realize it.

His back was partially turned to you, as if warding you away from seeing him. Aegon had been made to think that he was a failure all his life, that he was insignificant, made to do nothing instead of act. Whenever he did act, it was impulsive and reckless, branded acts of stupidity.

Maybe the one thing he could do right was you — mend the divide, mend the bridge that had kept you distanced for so long.

That cold, bitter laughter soon dissipated into what were choked sobs, ones of despair — he had been holding himself together for so long, for the sake of the realm, for the sake of a family that cared so little for him. His body ached and trembled, and as much as he attempted to move away from you, he couldn’t.

The nearest settee happened to be where he fell, landing against the velveteen cushions, head hung in despair, body wracked with sobs. He was undesirable, undeserving of you and your love. He was some withered husk, a shell, a monster still dressing in the clothing of a King — he was nothing.

Yet, you made him feel like something.

Silently, you crossed the cold stone to join him on the settee, sitting at his side as you gingerly let your palm settle against his back. “You underestimate how much I still care for you, husband.” You whispered, caressing along his spine with a feather-light touch.

Aegon felt drawn to you, pulled into the warmth of your comforting fire, knowing that if there was still one person left in this world who cared enough, it was you. Tears stained his visage, leaving behind streaks of red, eyes wet with many left unshed.

“Why should you?” Aegon questioned, his voice beginning to lose the fury and rage it held before, and it was melancholy. Anyone would’ve asked themselves such a question, but you didn’t — you remained steadfast. “I have brought nothing but misery upon you.”

It was complex, his statement — you had been miserable for some time, but this tragedy that afflicted you both was something worth overcoming. You were beginning to see the true Aegon, the one buried beneath the weight of the crown, the weight of inferiority.

“There is still time for forgiveness.” Your words were poignant and soft, and they were enough to move Aegon to tears again. He sat there beside you, crying to himself, breaking down completely. You had never seen him like this before — and perhaps, it was long overdue.

The comfort you provided was one he so desperately sought, even if he felt so guilty. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this, to deserve you — and yet he welcomed the grace of your palm, the sound of your songbird’s voice, soothing him with your gentle smile.

He was ashamed for you to see him this way, a man lacking the strength of physicality, the strength to hold a shortsword. It often wavered within his grasp — he would never be able to protect you. His beloved dragon was left in ruins, recovering in the Dragonpit — everything he had that made him strong had been taken.

Aegon was terrified to look upon you in such close quarters, afraid to feel the bitter jab of rejection, the horror and abhorrence within your gaze as you found his scars. He dared not turn, only keeping the intact side bared to you, still perfectly handsome.

Orwyle had harkened this to some miraculous recovery, a sign that the Gods favored him — Aegon did not feel favored, nor did he feel that he deserved it. Whatever he used to think, that his father wheezed his last breath desiring him on the Iron Throne, was nothing more than a twist of words.

There was nothing miraculous or prophetic about him — he was a sad, drunken cripple left to rot.

As much as he commiserated over his woes and the foul hand dealt to him by his brother, Larys had convinced him to live out of spite — and you convinced him that being alive, even in this wretched state, was a reality that was worth seeking.

He nearly crawled away at the sensation of your fingertips brushing along his jaw, unmarred and unscathed by the garish tangle of scars. Aegon shivered at your embrace — he had gone so terribly long without it, wondering if he would ever feel it again.

“I remember when I saw you for the first time, in the Grand Sept — I thought that you were the most resplendent man that I had ever seen,” You crooned, feeling him nudge his cheek into your palm. You gently swiped away a stray tear beneath his eye. “You still are.”

Aegon scoffed — a bitter, vitriolic sound that made his breath turn hoarse for a moment. He found it incredibly difficult to believe you, to find any merit in what you said given the circumstances. Even if you still loved him, that did not include his horrific appearance.

Tears trickled down his face, ones that you collected with your thumb before he shook his head. “Do not patronize me,” He murmured, visage furrowing together. “You cannot mean any of that. Look at me,” Aegon hissed, only slightly turning towards you. “I am a loathsome creature.”

His misery was an understatement when it came to his appearance — he looked like some monster, gnarled and withered beyond recognition. Whenever he looked into the mirror, he screamed and raged until he fell, or perhaps lost his voice.

Any Targaryen was often regarded as beautiful — pale, platinum tresses and lilac hues, a countenance as regal and as beautiful as a god. He was nothing more than a cockroach, now. He couldn’t fathom that you still desired him in a conventional way.

With a soft, tender touch, your hand then moved to rest against his shoulder. “If there is a loathsome creature here, I do not see it,” You murmured, head canting to one side. “What must I do to convince you, Aegon? Do you not believe me?”

Aegon’s trust had worn so thin that it threatened to snap, threadbare and nonexistent. He could only allow himself to trust so much — everyone he thought he could confide in or rely on had now turned against him, or attempted to slaughter him.

“It is hard to believe anyone anymore.” He murmured, staring down at his hands — one trembled, wreathed in burn scars, and the other clenched into a tight first.

He was made to believe that he was the rightful heir over Rhaenyra, when that was never the case. He was made to believe that he was a good ruler, when his Small Council plotted behind his back without his knowledge. He believed that Aemond was loyal to him, that he loved him as a brother would.

Lilac hues flickered from the void of his chambers to you, peering at you from beneath the curtain of pale tresses that still clung to his head. Despite the accusations of disloyalty he had hurled at you, his mistrust and doubt of your true intentions, you still maintained an amiable gaze.

You stared at him as if he had moved mountains, pulled the stars from the heavens for you — and he realized that no one, besides you, had looked at him in such a way before. It was profound and affectionate, wrought with a palpable adoration that came from a deep-rooted place of good.

Aegon’s throat grew tight, thick with emotion as he drank you in, tracing over the delicate plane of your features, the spark of warmth that brightened your eyes. Such divine beauty that he had robbed himself of for so long — he only felt like a fool, the greatest fool there was.

With an unsteady, quivering hand, he hesitantly reached out to you, unburnt fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. He sucked in a sharp breath whenever you shuddered, face turning inward to press a kiss against his palm.

“I want to see you, husband.” You whispered, grasping his hand with both of yours, digits oozing with the radiance of heat that blossomed from you. The burn scars were carefully concealed behind silken garments, hidden from sight. Aegon grit his teeth together, not wanting you to see how disfigured he’d become.

“No,” Aegon quipped, shifting away from you with a scornful, wary expression. Whatever handsomeness he possessed before, it had all been burned away, turned to ash — and it left him, this husk of himself, with a physique that was repulsing to behold. “There is nothing pleasant about it — it is rotten.”

Rotten was perhaps a vast exaggeration for his wounds and scars, something that you found to be perplexing. Scars did not bother you, and you wouldn’t let your husband’s insecurities dissuade him from your comfort and care. Still holding his hand, you moved closer, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

Aegon shivered beneath the chaste kiss, wanting nothing more than to collect you into his arms. The gnawing fear of your potential repulsion made him hesitate, and the bitter stab of rejection seemed to dig into him more than anything else.

“What woman would want this?”

Aegon’s forlorn, despondent inquiry hung above the both of you like some dour cloud. His grim outlook was something that you could sympathize with, given that his appearance had been torn apart within an instant. He swallowed the sob building within his chest, violet hues glistening with wet tears.

At last, he looked at you fully, exposing the marred, scarred side of his visage, tangled with a web of textured burns. His eye was sunken in, vessels having broken the white around his iris, ear nearly missing entirely, countenance partially mottled.

It was the same with his body, nearly half of it covered in the same fleshy web, scars spreading out like the roots of a tree. Aegon looked to you with a shattered expression, one that possessed a vehement swell of rage and frustration, yet still retained a sense of desperation. He was desperate to have your approval, for you to tell him that he was still perfect, regardless of his disfigurement.

Without a word, you moved your hand toward the maimed side of his face, expecting him to rip away or recoil entirely. Instead, he stayed there, rooted in-place, shuddering when the softness of your palm cupped his jaw. The pad of your thumb gingerly raked over his cheek, feeling along every scar and rough surface.

“I want you, Aegon,” The soft, silky resonance of your voice had brought him to heel, gaining his subservience, despite his inner battle with his insecurities. He feared being ugly in your eyes, as if his heart weren’t black and decayed enough. “I want you still.” Your lips twitched into an amiable smile.

For a moment, his eyes had fluttered shut, and he soaked in the sensation of your touch, warm and real against his cheek. It felt incredible, something he had craved for so long — it had left a gaping hole within his chest. Any tears that fell, you collected them with your fingertips, swiping them away.

Again, you inched closer, leg-to-leg with him, gaze drifting towards his lips. Aegon did not dissuade you from it, breathing becoming somewhat laborious as you pressed forward, mouth molding against his. It had been a long time since you had kissed him — truly kissed him.

A low, stirring groan reverberated within the depths of his throat, and at last, he reciprocated. Aegon’s kiss was done in a flurry of passion, realizing what he hadn’t had for so long. You tasted saccharine, warm and soft against him, mouth pliant and willing.

Gods, how blind he was — foolish, fragile, moronic.

He had abandoned you for unattainable things, for insignificant people that cared little about his wellbeing. Aegon had you — you, so devoted and loyal and forgiving, even when he deserved none of it. He very nearly sobbed again, knowing what error and sin he’d committed against you, but he shoved it down.

His insecurities seemed so small, as if they were wiped away by the curve of your mouth that so desperately kissed him. Aegon moved his good arm, bringing it to the swell of your hips, feeling your supple physique through the thin silk of your nightgown.

A sweet, simpering moan bubbled within your throat, a sound that so clearly vocalized your desperation for him, your repression and longstanding suffering. “Aegon,” You whispered, sending tremors down his spine as he kissed your jaw. “We don’t have to, we — you’re in pain.” You didn’t want to subject your husband to such agony.

Aegon shook his head, willing to push through the dull aching if it meant that he could have you again. Despite his fractured confidence, you made him feel so strong again, as if he still looked as he had before the burning. “Fuck agony,” He panted, hot breath fanning across your flesh. “I need you.”

That was enough to send a surge of molten heat throughout your belly, thighs rubbing together to alleviate some of your mounting arousal. “To bed, then.” You whispered, and Aegon swore that he moved quicker than normal, as if you had rejuvenated in some mystical way through words alone.

Using his cane to support most of his weight, he sluggishly walked toward your marital bed, feeling you hover around his side. You did not help him, and he didn’t want it, anyway. He was growing stronger by the day, capable of making it to his bed without support.

Fresh linens, silks, and feathered pillows had replaced ones used yesterday. It was all clean, smelling of lavender and honey. As he sat along the edge of the bed, he nearly chuckled at all of this — finally laying with you out of desire, and not duty, looking positively abhorrent.

If only it hadn’t taken him so long to get here.

“Are you certain, Aegon? I do not wish to hurt you, I —” Before you could prattle on about your concerns, Aegon silenced you with a kiss, coaxing you down by his side. His lips remained unblemished and unburnt, the taste of Dornish Red and sugar permeating his tongue.

“You won’t,” Aegon uttered, lilac hues raking over you, hungry and rapturous. “And if you do, you will not stop until I tell you to.” His tone retained a sternness to it, one that pleaded with you to allow him to drown in your affections, just like he always wanted.

With a gentle nod of your head, Aegon pushed your tresses away from your neck, thumb caressing along the column of your throat before he pressed a kiss there. You scarcely recalled the last time he’d done something like this, but you weren’t about to protest.

He wanted to hear your sighs and sweet whimpers, the sound of his name, breathy from your tongue. Aegon did not have the stamina he used to, but he would rather damn himself instead of stopping so quickly. He kissed and bit at your neck, soothing each mark with the languid lap of his tongue.

Gods, that sound — Aegon delighted in listening to your soft, wanton moan, pearlescent teeth nipping at your sensitive skin, kissing wherever he could reach. His burnt hand trembled, the flesh tender and still pulsating with a dull ache, but he elected to ignore it as best as he could.

Your hand pressed against his unmarred thigh, gripping into the flesh there as he groaned against you. He had finally gotten rid of that horrid, lengthy nightshirt, back to linen trousers and a silken, emerald tunic. His growing erection wasn’t subtle in the slightest.

“Let me see you.” Aegon murmured, wanting to look upon you with renewed eyes. You had always been beautiful to him, but now, you were captivating — a goddess incarnate, come to grace him with your presence. He watched as you stood, unraveling your robe as you draped it across the foot of the bed.

His mouth became dry, desire swelling within him like the urgent crash of a tidal wave. Aegon’s violet gaze remained transfixed, unable to tear themselves away from you and your perfection.

You stood in between his legs, shedding the thin, sheer gossamer of your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet before you nudged it aside. The last time you had undressed for Aegon, he was drunk and needy, several months ago.

His intoxication was of a different sort now, drunk upon your resplendence, your beauty, living and breathing before him. Aegon gripped your hip with his good hand, learning forward to press kisses all along your abdomen and stomach.

The sensation of your hand, so gentle and sweet, slipped against his marred cheek, gingerly caressing over his uneven web of scars, encapsulating over half of his skull. Aegon nearly groaned at your heavenly touch, the touch of a wife who loved her husband, scars and all.

He did not feel so monstrous anymore.

Aegon turned to press a kiss against the inside of your wrist, savoring the feeling of your fingertips roving across his scars. It was only when you moved to kiss the top of his head that he nearly faltered, breath warbled and wavering, surprise settling into his features.

He moved back, countenance twitching with pain for a fleeting moment, finding comfort within the silken duvet and soft sheets of your shared bed. You nearly moved to sit beside him again, but he stopped you, swallowing the growing lump within his throat.

“No,” Aegon whispered, tone a low, husky resonance, strung out with desire as he coaxed you into his lap with certainty. “Come here.” Those lilac hues were blown-out with lust and bewilderment, enthralled by you as he felt you settle down against him, thighs firmly caging him in on either side.

A grunt stirred within his chest, a dull throbbing pulsating throughout his body, but he persisted, feeling your plush form sit right in his lap. His good arm stroked along your spine and hip, faces mere breaths apart, and he kissed you with a blinding fervor.

Aegon never kissed you like this — not until now.

Whatever sentiments you felt for him, the ones that drove you to complete devotion, began to resurface — you still loved him fiercely, despite everything. “Will you allow me to see you, too?” You whispered against his mouth, digits dancing toward the hem of his tunic.

A beat of hesitation passed through your husband, who almost seemed to revert to his reclusive state. His jaw became tense, an inner war raging within him as he contemplated letting you disrobe him. Aegon looked at you, torn yet wanting, tugging you closer.

You gave him time to deliberate, not wanting to push him into something that he wasn’t prepared for. As if to soothe him, your fingertips traced along his brow line, and into the tangle of scars. “If you do not, I will understand, husband. It will not make me love you any less.”

That alone made him want to remove his tunic.

Aegon tilted forward, burying his face against your collarbone, mottled flesh textured against your own skin. He felt your palm glide against the nape of his neck, carding your digits through his wisps of pale hair. “It is hideous,” He uttered, insecurities bubbling to the surface. “I wouldn’t dare subject you to it.”

“Aegon,” The tenderness of your tone seemed to grab his attention rather swiftly, lilac hues drifting up toward your visage, perfect and comely. “It is all you — every scar and every imperfection, and I will love it all the same. My desires haven’t changed.”

His breath hitched within his throat, eyes swimming with an amalgamation of emotions, some of them too overwhelming to fully comprehend. He had sorely missed your embrace, and to further deprive himself of it seemed like an unimaginable torture.

You wanted him to take his time, neck craning as you peppered your lips against his throat — the burnt side, flesh marred and uneven, the sensation akin to a leathery surface. Aegon exhaled, gripping you tighter as he reveled in the feeling of your mouth.

It was he who initiated the removal of his tunic, attempting to pry it away and over his head, but he struggled, a low groan escaping him. Aegon wanted to feel independent, to do something himself, but he relented, accepting your assistance.

Removing the garment felt like an eternity, born out of his own nervousness and crippling insecurity of you seeing him this way, marred and mottled. Only half of him was covered in that tangled, leathery web of scars, spiraling down his entire physique.

Hovering your palm above his chest, Aegon’s lilac gaze silently pleaded with you to touch him, grace him with the touch of your resplendence. The scars were rough and uneven, innumerable and etched into his flesh like a blanket of leather.

Yet, you did not recoil or shy away, tracing patterns over his skin, pressing your sweet kisses wherever you could reach. Aegon felt his cock twitch and throb with desperation, longing to be inside of you. The tender care you showed him meant more to him than any crass or lewd act did.

You kissed his scarred shoulder, a gesture so comforting and kind that Aegon shuddered from exhilaration. That pattern of soft worship continued, as you kissed his scars again and again, reverence seeping into each grace of your mouth.

“Gods, how divine you are,” Aegon exhaled, quivering hand finally extending just enough to knead against your thigh. The palm that held your hip traced towards the warmth between your legs, and he shivered at the slick arousal there. “What a pleasant surprise.”

You squirmed, cunt aching for him in every way imaginable, hips jolting into the sensation of his practiced digits. Aegon was swift to reward your kindness with quick strokes of his fingers, tracing along your slit before caressing your clit, toying with the sensitive pearl.

The game of waiting was an agonizing one, as he longed to be inside of you, let you feel him again with renewed vigor, drown himself within your love. Aegon groaned when your lips met his, connecting with a thinly-veiled ardor, passionate yet tender.

Agony and pain became a thing of the past — even if his body ached and contorted with a continuous sting, he didn’t care. He wanted to endure for you, savoring each moment, digits greedily stroking away at your cunt in order to warm you up.

Desire made him dizzy, head beginning to spin in a delirium, induced by the growing haze of lust. He couldn’t recall the last time he laid with a woman and truly enjoyed it — but he was enjoying this — he loved your body, and above all else, he loved you.

“I want you inside of me,” You panted, hot breath fanning across the shell of his ear. A shiver cascaded along his spine, prompting him to slow the steady strokes of his digits. “Aegon, please.” With a pleading tone that brought Aegon to heel, he nodded, letting out a grunt of discomfort.

He gently removed you from his lap, but only to readjust, moving himself back against the mound of feathered pillows and cushions. Those violet hues silently observed you, rapturous and starving, like a hound preparing to devour its meal as you clamored forward again.

Your hands moved to the leather ties of his breeches, loosening them up enough to free his cock from its confines, flushed head oozing with tendrils of precum. Aegon wasn’t shy about how aroused he was, how desperately he needed you.

“Sit,” Aegon groaned, hand kneading against your hip, attempting to coax you onto his hardened length. “Please, I — I need you.” You hadn’t heard him beg before, but the sound was husky, timbre strung-out with desire as you crawled back into his lap.

As you gently lowered yourself onto his cock, Aegon nearly moaned at the sensation, head rolling back against the pillows as you sank down completely. He couldn’t move like he used to, guide you along or assist, but he did squeeze your hip, caressing all along your side.

Depriving himself of you for so long was perhaps one of the greatest faults he’d ever made, filling him with a wave of guilt. He could not make up for it anymore, properly ravage you in the way that you deserved, but he hoped that this was a start.

Everything began to ache with more of an intensity, a dull throbbing sinking into his bones, but he relented. Aegon would not deny himself, and he would not deny you, above all else. A myriad of throaty groans escaped him as you began to move, hips rocking forward, disarmingly gentle and sluggish.

You did not go quickly at all, each movement slow and steady, thighs stinging from exertion. Slowly, you reached for his hand, the one that had stayed closer to his chest, longing to hold it, if he was able. Aegon’s breath hitched when you did, gently twining his fingers with your own as you rode him.

His cock filled you perfectly, filling a void within you that had been left half-empty for so long. At last, you had your husband again — the one that you yearned for since your wedding day. With gentle gyrations, you moved yourself up and down along his length, continuing your sluggish rhythm.

The palm that cupped your hip and thigh soon slithered toward the apex of between your legs, hoping to stimulate you just as you did him. Your moans, breathy and high-pitched, filled your chambers, noises that he had been longing to hear.

The full, lovely swell of your breasts bounced gently atop your chest as you continued your ministrations, repeating the monotonous motion of rocking along his cock. Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, and it quickly spread to your loins when Aegon’s thumb caressed the pearl of your cunt.

He wasn’t going to last much longer in this state, cock throbbing with tendrils of precum that released themselves inside of you. The way in which you milked him, moved agonizingly slow, allowing him to feel your cunt tighten around him — it was nearly overwhelming.

Your cunt clenched pathetically, snug around his length as you continued to ride him, his cock bottoming out within you. It was a perfect storm of sensations, between the fervent circles he traced into your clit coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, you knew that your release was near and inevitable.

A breathy sigh of ‘fuck’ emerged from Aegon’s mouth, countenance contorted into a look of complete and utter ecstasy. “Gods, do not stop,” Aegon commanded through wanton groans, hips desperately wanting to buck up inside of you, but the pain was becoming too great. “Please.” He pleaded.

Everything felt so raw and sensitive, nerves set ablaze, arousal gripping him tightly as you continued to ride his cock, ensuring that you were still incredibly gentle. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you move, cautious and mindful of him, lips agape and visage one of sheer bliss.

The delight you felt was immense, holding onto Aegon’s hand, wanting to grind yourself into his thumb. “Aegon,” You moaned, looking down upon him with reverence and awe, no inkling of disgust to be found — it was ardor and want, all tangled into one. “I—I’m close!” Your whine made him want to tear you apart.

It only took one more roll of your hips for him to fall apart, in shambles beneath you, hot ropes of virile seed filling your womb with desperation. Aegon saw stars from the intensity of his release, nearly collapsing in the aftermath of it all.

His breathing quickened, hoarse and labored as you tilted your hips forward, finding a much-needed friction as he caressed your clit even still. Watching you reach your release with his own eyes was a captivating sight, mesmerizing to behold as you shuddered, trembling and aching with relief.

He huffed, attempting to recuperate as you stayed in his lap for a moment longer, slick with your nectar and his own spent, its sheen coating the inside of your thighs. You removed yourself from him to give him some reprieve, stepping away to clean yourself up and retrieve your nightgown.

Aegon’s visage became one of immediate concern as he watched you move away, worried that he had offended you. “Where — Are you not staying?” He questioned, hastily maneuvering his breeches up around his hips again, doing his best to lace up the leather ties.

Surprised, you stopped near the basin of water sitting along the vanity, head canting to one side. “I intended on staying with you, unless you do not want me to.” You replied, sliding the silken garment back on after having taken a swatch of cloth to the warmth between your thighs.

“I want you,” Aegon’s tone had become a rather desperate resonance, as if imploring you to stay even when there wasn’t a need for him to do so. “I want you to stay.” He uttered, lilac hues somewhat shrewd as you approached, helping him put his tunic back on.

“Of course.” With a soothing voice, you pressed a kiss against the scarred side of his scalp, and then to his forehead, helping to ease him back down into bed. The draught left behind by Maester Orwyle assisted with the pain — not nearly as strong as Milk of the Poppy, but it was the best choice.

Taking a swig, Aegon sighed, feeling you climb into bed, curled against the good side of his body. He immediately collected you into his arm, feeling your cheek press into his shoulder. It was the most satisfying feeling in the world, having you by his side again.

“If you are agreeable to it,” Aegon began, tracing patterns into the small of your back, “I wish for you to stay here again, and share my bed.” He didn’t demand anything, nor did he use his title and power to force you into sharing your chambers again.

He would’ve understood if you declined, given everything that had happened between the both of you.

Aegon loathed the thought of being alone again, to return to his reclusive existence of self-deprecation and endless misery when you were still here, living perfection — his beloved wife. He turned his head just enough to kiss your crown, briefly inhaling your floral scent, one that he sorely missed.

“I would like that,” You hummed, comfortable by his side. It was the first time in many moons that Aegon felt almost entirely comfortable again, scars and all. “Know that I love you, Aegon — until my last days.” With a gentle touch, you reached for his marred hand, holding it delicately within your own.

Tears swam within his lilac hues, and he had to squeeze them shut just to alleviate that feeling of sobbing. To hear you say with certainty that you loved him — he knew that he no longer needed to fear the idea of living, not when he had you.

“I love you.” Aegon whispered, barely above a whisper. He held you tightly, cradling you close, grasp innately protective even when danger didn’t hang over your heads.

Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he was finally being transparent with himself — with his inner turmoil, with his very existence, and that he loved you too.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not copy/steal my work and claim it as your own. please do not translate my work onto other platforms.

[calvalia]

Are they lovers? (Worse) (Part 3?!?)

I will fall in love with you over and over again

I don't care how, where, or when

No matter how long it's been, you're mine

Don't tell me you're not the same person

You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting…

(I have allowed myself to listen to ONE song from the Ithaca Saga and of course it was the ending song so it has been playing in my head on loop while I drew this, but also it’s kind of fitting? Because I keep drawing Calvalia with all these different iterations of Apollo but to her, they’re all the same god that she loves.

This Apollo design is by @hymnoeides !! It’s a design I’ve been in love with for a long time and have vowed to draw one day but was also kind of intimidated to because their art is just so pretty and he’s just so beautiful and oh gods how can I do him justice?? So anyway I hope I did okay here

But this is probably the last piece I’ll be doing for my Are They Lovers? Series for a while because I need to regain some control of my life haha—)

[pascaloverx]

BABYBOY

Summary: You work as a caretaker for the home and dog of a famous individual in a luxurious apartment. On a fateful day, you find yourself in dire need of help when your boss’s dog gets locked inside the apartment. The newest neighbor, an incredibly handsome man, comes to your rescue. That man is none other than Nicholas Alexander Chavez.How will your relationship with him unfold?

Author's Note: This fanfic is for those who’d love to imagine themselves in a romance with Nicholas Chavez. I should warn you that there’s a possibility the reader might get involved with Nicholas while he’s still in a relationship with someone else, though nothing is set in stone yet. This fanfic will include explicit language and mature content. Consider yourselves warned. I hope you like it and interact with the story!

preview two

ONE

Days had gone by, marked by near encounters that, to an unbothered observer, would seem like mere coincidences but were deliberately orchestrated by you. Despite your subtle efforts, you hadn’t crossed paths with Nicholas again. Deep down, you told yourself it was for the best. Surely, he had a girlfriend or someone he was interested in, and, honestly, he was far out of your league. Your focus had shifted to repairing both your boss’s apartment door and your relationship with Baby, his dog. Baby, however, seemed utterly smitten with the handsome neighbor, barking excitedly at his door every time you returned from a walk.

Now, with Baby dropped off at an elite doggy daycare where he socialized with other pampered pooches and underwent obedience training, you had a few hours to yourself. Your routine included tidying the apartment, even though a housekeeper came by every three days to give it a thorough clean. With a new bag of premium dog food in hand, music blaring through your headphones, you couldn’t help but dance as you moved about the apartment. Rosé and Bruno Mars’ APT filled your ears, and you struggled to resist belting out the lyrics at the top of your lungs—especially since you didn’t want to draw the attention of a certain neighbor.

Everything was going smoothly until your uncoordinated moves betrayed you. Your sneaker laces snagged beneath your feet, and you stumbled forward, bracing for the worst. In the split second before disaster struck, your only thought was to save the dog food bag from bursting open. Then, a strong, muscular arm caught you, steadying you just before you hit the ground.

“You’re going to go deaf listening to music that loud,” Nicholas quipped, his tone laced with amusement. Before you could fully process what had happened, you found yourself stepping out of his firm grasp as he plucked one side of your headphone from your ear. He’s wearing a robe, slightly untied, revealing his bare chest—a detail that momentarily captures your attention.

“Thank you for the assist, Nicholas. But I must insist you stop helping me. I can’t afford to owe you any more coffees than I already do,” you say, straightening yourself and trying to regain composure. He smiles, a genuine expression that softens his striking features as he watches you intently. There’s something disarming about the way his eyes linger, making you feel both seen and slightly flustered. You take a step back instinctively, as though wary of being so close to him. The proximity between you moments ago had felt electric, almost overwhelming, and a small part of you wonders if he felt it too.

“Would you have preferred that I let you crash to the floor?” Nicholas asks, his tone playful yet dangerously charming.

Caught off guard, you fumble for a response. “Perhaps,” you say, trying to sound serious but only managing to appear slightly awkward. “At this rate, I’ll start feeling like you’re my loan shark.”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I had a feeling you already felt that way, considering how you’ve been avoiding me.”

Your breath hitches, and you try to recover, pointing to yourself as though the accusation couldn’t possibly apply to you. “Me? Avoiding you? Absolutely not. I was just… maintaining a safe distance.” The words spill out hastily, but your voice betrays you, trembling under the weight of his presence.

He takes a deliberate step forward, his robe shifting slightly to reveal more of his defined chest, and his neatly styled, damp hair gleams under the light. His confidence radiates with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. “Safe from what?” he asks, his tone laced with curiosity and challenge. “Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”

“Afraid of you?” You scoff, feigning a boldness you don’t quite feel. “As if.” But the truth lingers unspoken—a fear not of him, but of the undeniable pull he exerts over you, the way his presence stirs emotions you aren’t ready to face.

Nicholas leans in slightly, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “Because, from where I stand, it feels like you’re running from something.” His words strike a chord, making you painfully aware of the wall at your back and the impossibility of escape. You’ve cornered yourself, both literally and metaphorically, and the intensity in his gaze is unraveling every ounce of composure you have left.

"I'm running away from trouble; you should consider doing the same. Let's be practical—you live here, and I work here. You're clearly already well-accompanied, and I’m in a professional environment that requires me to remain alone most of the time. And I saw you without clothes, which makes it hard for me to be completely friendly without remembering what happened. It’s best if we keep our distance and remain strangers," you say, trying to sound firm as you lean back against the wall. Your headphones are still playing some song, but you can barely focus on it, your attention completely fixed on Nicholas’s gaze.

"I starred in a series called General Hospital. Great cast, and my family was really proud of me for landing the role—it shaped me into the actor I am today. I also did a pretty funny movie called Crushed. Filming it was a blast, especially a scene where I nearly had a make-out session with an orange. Right now, I’m preparing for another series, which I think will be an incredibly enriching experience. But I’m not extremely famous or rich. Moving here was a treat to myself, courtesy of my latest role and some old savings."

"As for being accompanied," Nicholas continues, his tone softening but maintaining a confident edge, "you’ve clearly noticed more about me than you let on. And to answer your assumption—yes, I am seeing someone. But there are no labels, and we’re not exclusive. So now that I’ve shared a bit about my life, are you going to stop hiding behind excuses and admit that you really want to have coffee with me?"

As he steps closer, trapping you in place with his presence, you swallow hard, processing his words while trying to ignore the sudden heat rising in your chest. "I have a feeling we’re no longer just talking about coffee," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of defiance as you meet his gaze.

"Since you’ve been on Grey’s Anatomy, I’d wager your bank account is fatter than mine. So here’s the deal—wait for me in your apartment in five minutes. I’ll make the coffee, using your coffee machine," you respond with a confident chuckle, leaving Nicholas momentarily speechless.

"Bold of you to invite yourself over to make coffee in my apartment, but I’ll allow it. And it was General Hospital, not Grey’s Anatomy, but you got the idea." Nicholas steps back, giving you room to enter your boss's apartment. Just as you’re about to turn away, he adds with a playful smirk, "Five minutes. Don’t make me wait too long."

"Don't worry, I’ll be punctual. And no need to wait for me shirtless or anything—I’d still recognize you fully dressed. Though, it’s your house, your rules. If you feel like putting on another striptease, be my guest," you say, winking mischievously and flashing a sly smile, still facing him as you back toward the door of your boss’s apartment.

Nicholas, who had already opened the door to his own apartment, steps toward you. "Only if this time you join me," he says, lowering his face slightly to meet your gaze, his breath warm against your skin as your heart threatens to leap out of your chest.

"Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas," you reply, holding his gaze, "don’t make offers you might regret later." A single step from either of you would close the gap between your lips, but neither dares to move. It’s too soon, you tell yourself, convincing your mind that perhaps he doesn’t even want to kiss you—that you’re imagining things. Yet, the undeniable tension in the air would be obvious to anyone.

He clears his throat, breaking the moment, and steps back, muttering, "I’ll be waiting," as he retreats into his apartment. You don’t respond, still caught in the whirlwind of thoughts about how much you wanted to know the taste of his lips. Only when the weight of the dog food bag starts straining your arms do you snap out of it, grab the apartment key, and step inside, all the while wondering how on earth you’re going to have coffee with Nicholas without throwing yourself at him.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

I'm up way later than I need to be and listening to music while I draw and this song gives me SUCH Sabo feelings and I would love to hear your opinions!! (Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives)

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Y07xArvIvjw&si=ffMbMHTWuHHnxY2C

You dare bring. The Crane Wives. Into this peaceful household.

Never Love an Anchor no less.

RELATING THE SONG TO THE BLORBO FROM MY SHOW NO LESS

The audacity.

Anyway.

Yeah it makes me think about how Sabo left Ace and Luffy on his own accord at the end. Of course it was a last resort but he left them because he knew that this was the only way for them all to be free.

He left knowing that he would probably not see him until they were 17. Or maybe even never again.

He left them so that they could be safe. Because as long as long as he was with him, as far as he could see, hands would still try to claim him, resulting in the ones he loves getting hurt.

There was no winning for Sabo or any of them. As long as he tried delaying the inevitable, it just never would have happened.

He had to give up what he loved so he could keep it.

And then after he regains his memories, him thinking how much he’s changed. His claws might hurt the one he loves so dearly, even though at this point he doesnt even know him anymore. What if when Luffy finds out that he was alive, it only hurts him deeper. Knowing that there was someone who would have made a difference that day wasnt there. Reliving not only that day in the moment of reuniting, but the say he lost Sabo, too.

I dont find it strange that Sabo didnt try to reunite with Luffy until dressrosa. And in fact i think that reuniting with luffy is something he did as an absolute last resort. I think he truly didnt want to meet him that day at all.

In the anime alone, it doesnt much show it, but in the manga and the Episode of Sabo his hesitance and nerves are really clear to me. He takes a second before he starts walking to talk to luffy. His hand is clutched and shaking. He walks as slowly as he can. And also he only does it after he knows that Luffy cant get the fruit.

They both need that fruit safe. An heirloom of their precious brother, the only thing they have left that can life on from him.

If Luffy could’ve finished that tournament, im fairly certain Sabo would’ve never revealed himself.

I think he feels like he might hurt luffy if he did, but i also think that he didnt feel he deserved it. To reunite with Luffy after all that time. After all that happened.

Going back to the song, the lyrics

“So, I did the only thing that i could And severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor.”

Even though it was Sabo who went sailing from the harbor, what he was doing was sever the rope from his connections with luffy and Ace so that they could grow and be free without worrying about being held back by him and the weight of his life keeping him suffocating at the bottom of the harbor he’s being drowned in.

If sabo had successfully left Goa that day, and he had reunited with Ace or Luffy somewhere down the line, i think he would act the same way he did in dressrosa that day. I think he would feel his baggage is too much, someone could be after him. And he wouldnt want to reunite. Especially after how he left them.

To me, that letter didnt read as a “i hope i see you again”, but a “goodbye forever”. Which i mean,,,, it was one, at least in Ace’s case, so … 🤷‍♀️ kill me

Anyway, the sentencing of your crimes of Crane Wives-ing me will be capital punishment, i hope you understand.

Thanks for the ask!

[dailyjackvlad]

DAY 21..... are we still counting days here? I realized making this a daily thing is an unrealistic goal, I am losing my passion for art lately... I'm losing my passion for living, really. I don't want my biggest comfort to turn into a chore. These two are one of the last things keeping me happy and sane, even if I cannot draw them daily, even when I cannot draw them at all. I tried to replicate that feeling of being a kid messing around with crayons with this art. And I felt such honest joy making it, I've regained some hope that this low point is only temporary. My love for art will come back. Maybe my art will look different when it does, but at least it will be made with a smile on my face. Once again toxic cartoon yaoi saves an artist's life. Never give up. Cartoon old men have your back.

[bunnybubae]

(M)🚦Red Light: The Allure | Ch3 [JJK]

👉🏻[Series Masterpost]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)

Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst

Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past  you’ll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It’s a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile.  Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?

Chapter Warnings: mention of the toxic ex (again, unfortunately), still a lot of teasing and heavy flirting, JK in black CK undies yes, it is a warning, brief mention of weed,  alcohol consumption, brief thigh riding, rubbing in public environment, dry humping, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, protected sex, one (1) slap on the ass, rough sex.

Wc: 11.7k

A/N: Hello there! I hope you guys still want to read this story, cause CH3 is finally out! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻 Let me know what are your thoughts about the story, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰

December 8th, Friday

You're glad it didn't pour down all day.

The night sky is clear and the smell of rain permeates in the air. You look through the car window covered in droplets as Hani chats with the driver.

You're too busy looking at scattered puddles on the asphalt reflecting the surrounding lights to pay attention to whatever the uber driver is saying.

The only thing troubling your mind right now is the last message you received. You had already blocked Ray's number a long time ago, but no one else would ever dream of sending you a similar message. The scumbag must have changed it.

You check your phone screen once again, almost hopeful that the content of the message is now different or even better, gone.

Unknown Number:- Have fun tn.

You tighten the coat you're wearing around your figure, as if that would be enough to make you feel safe.

Three words were enough to disgust you to the core. Well done Ray.

His intent is clear: he hopes to ruin your evening with this message, he wants you to feel out of place and you know pretty well that behind those seemingly innocent words there is much more hidden. His passive aggressive stalking exudes from every pixel of the screen. 

You wonder how he knows your plans for the evening, you hoped he had finally stopped spying on you, but clearly, this dude is unweary.

A hand suddenly rests on your shoulder, drawing your attention and making you flinch at the unexpected contact. Your thoughts must have poisoned your features judging by Hani's tone of voice, gentle and concerned.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You mechanically put your phone back in your pocket and look at her with a hint of a smile, hoping that she doesn't notice the tornado of thoughts that swirl behind your eyes.

You don't want your worries to ruin your evening, that's exactly what that asshole would want.

Much less, you want Hani to decide it's best to take you home. It would be a defeat on all fronts.

You're going to go to this damn party and have fun. Ray has no power over you, not anymore. To let this message get under your skin would mean allowing him to manipulate you once again. You have to use it instead to do the exact opposite, to free yourself tonight and allow your wounded soul to dance.

Your face softens a little more as you manage to regain control of your thoughts.

"Yeah, it's all good. How long will it take to get there?"

Hani tells you that you'll arrive in a few minutes. She doesn't seem entirely convinced by your attempt to reassure her but you're glad she doesn't ask anything more when you start a barrage of questions about this kind of parties and the moto races.

Tae and Jungkook are waiting for you inside, she says, apparently they had to deal with some organizational issues related to tomorrow's qualifications, that's why they went earlier.

Hani is particularly thrilled, you can tell by the way she describes in as much detail as possible all the competitions and parties she's already attended. A little of her enthusiasm makes its way through you and you find yourself smiling genuinely as you listen to her.

A few minutes later, your driver parks next to the curb and once you get out of the car, you are amazed to notice the huge group of motorbikes parked in the lot next to the venue.

They're all well parked, resting under the light of the street lamps which highlights all their beautiful colors and shapes.

You reach the entrance guarded by a guy who looks like he could fold a motorbike in two. His menacing presence actually calms you further. You sigh without realizing it as your chest feels a little lighter.

Hani greets the big boy, who reciprocates, while maintaining a serious demeanor. He lets you in without even asking for documents or such, Hani is really well known by now.

The interior of the place has been well decorated for the occasion and the music is not excessively loud, the atmosphere is pleasant. You were expecting something more frenetic considering the adrenaline that motorcyclists are used to, everyone seems to be having fun but with ease instead. Which doesn't bother you at all.

Hani leads you to a small room filled with some sort of lockers to take off your coat before you could finally start your night.

It doesn't take long to find Tae, sitting at the bar, right next to the dance floor.

As you get closer, you notice that he's with a dark-haired guy and that they both seem deep in conversation.

"Here you are finally! Hoseok, Y/N, Y/N, Hoseok"

Tae gestures with his hands between you and the guy next to him. 

"You can call me Hobi!"

He says with a beautiful smile and holding out his hand.

The handshake was a bit embarrassing for you, you're no longer used to this type of introduction. Usually, the customers who come to the shop know you through Instagram or through friends, and it is easier to establish relationships which, in that circumstance, are limited to work.

"Nice to meet you, Hobi."

Tae offers everyone a round and the alcohol seems to loosen your nerves a little more.

Despite the initial awkwardness, the conversation between the four of you continues smoothly. You laugh out loud when Hobi tells an anecdote about Tae and Jungkook, you find him funny, both his way of storytelling and the emphasis he puts on details. He is definitely a sunny and extroverted guy who is able to drag anyone into conversation and put a smile on their face with his energetic ways.

Speaking of Jungkook,  you wonder where he could be, considering he was not here with them when you arrived.

Hobi continues his tell tales while Hani chuckles and Tae intervenes every now and then

"That guy over there," Hobi points behind you, "That one over there has been the champion for two years in a row!"

You turn to see where his finger is pointing only to realize that the champion he's talking about is Jungkook himself.

Tae laughs mockingly, determined to annoy you today as well, clearly. "Oh, they know each other very well!" and he exaggerates a wink.

Luckily enough, Hani seems to be on your side tonight. She elbows him on the side to shut him up but that only elicits a half-laugh from Tae.

"Yes, because I joined his gym." You respond casually, purposely ignoring Tae's innuendos.

Hobi starts waving his arm in the air trying to get Jungkook's attention from across the room.

Jungkook is talking to a couple of people, you look at him as he smiles and nods at something his interlocutors said, then he notices Hobi's attempts to call him.

He waves back and seems to want to return to the conversation with whoever is in front of him, when he notices you next to his friends.

A small smile forms on his face and his gaze remains fixed on you, almost as if he were challenging you to a staring contest. 

You decide to playfully stick your tongue out at him to which he, in response, reacts with a damn wink.

You turn around and try to douse the heat you feel by taking a large sip of your drink. The alcohol helps, but the warmth in your cheeks becomes noticeable.

Your friends continue to chat peacefully, you're relieved to see that no one has noticed this little exchange with Jungkook, with the exception of Hani of course, her smile speaks clearly.

You try to focus on Tae and Hobi's talk, but they're talking about some modifications their mechanics made to their bikes for the race, details too mechanical for your alcohol-clouded mind.

Hani's smile is different now when you look at her, and the tilt of her head confuses you further.

"Here he is, the champion graces us with his presence!"

Hobi says all of a sudden.

You realize that Hani was trying to let you know that Jungkook was on his way.

He stops next to you and it's strange to meet him in a context other than the gym. You felt more or less the same feeling when he gave you that lift that evening, but now you have the opportunity to see another aspect of his person and the way he is dressed is proof of that.

Jungkook seems like an outgoing and sociable guy when it comes to training his members at the gym. As you watch him now though, he seems slightly embarrassed, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his baggy jeans.

Tae takes Jungkook's arm as he responds to Hobi's statement "Technically, I'm not the champion yet."

“Will you let us win any races this year?” Tae asks in a teasing tone.

Jungkook tries to free himself from Tae's grip by pinching his side. "Ouch." Tae chuckles, placing a hand on the pinched spot, while Jungkook rearranges his hair, moving it away from his face.

"It's not my fault that Ducky is the fastest bike on the track."

"Ducky?"

You ask out of curiosity, before you even realize.

Tae and Hobi start giggling in the background as Jungkook's gaze falls on you. He appears surprised by the question, as if he thought you knew. Then, he seems to remember that he never spoke about his bike nor his races with you and his expression changes.

"My Ducati." he replies, playing with his piercing, a habit you think comes when he's pondering or embarrassed.

"Did you give your bike a name?"

Jungkook tells you that many people give their bikes a nickname, explaining that the reason he chose Ducky it's due to the similar sound with Ducati.

You smile in recognition that Jungkook definitely looks like an intimidating and strong guy, but that you became aware of a more thoughtful and playful part of him starting from the night he brought you home on his motorbike. Even this small detail about the moto's name fits perfectly with the Jungkook that you got to know till now.

An interesting mix that is also reflected in the ducati he rides.

“It's cute, I think it suits her!” You chuckle softly.

You notice something in Jungkook's eyes, but it doesn't last long due to Tae's comment.

"No please, don't tell me that you also think it's a suitable name for a motorbike!"

Tae babbles distraught, while Hobi laughs loudly, shaking his head.

"Look who's talkin, the one who called his bike Sonic!"

Jungkook huffs mockingly, rolling his eyes. 

The bickering that takes place in front of you makes you laugh lightly, Hani and Hobi join you as Tae fiercely retorts.

"At least it's related! And it's blue like Sonic! Your bike is not even yellow!"

“Wow bro, so original!”

Jungkook pretends to be overly impressed by his friend's explanation. Tae gulps down the last sip of beer while he wraps his arm around Hani.

"And by the way, have you ever seen a duck run? Those tiny little things are pretty fast!" Jungkook concludes.

At this, even Tae bursts out laughing, almost spitting out the beer from his nose. Everyone has seen at least once in their lifetime a video about little ducks chasing their mother or caregiver. Jungkook evidently emerges victorious from the argument, he chuckles along with all of you and the moment couldn't be more wholesome than this, you think.

The evening unfolds like this, next to the bar, with laughter and some small bickering between the three guys. You notice from time to time that Jungkook's eyes wander towards you while he speaks and he catches you looking at him sometimes as well.

The alcohol in your system definitely doesn't help make it any less evident.

"Another round? It's on me this time." Hobi shakes his empty beer, starting to move towards the bar when Jungkook stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder

"Just a coke for me, please."

Hobi nods as he appears to reply something like, "I know" before smiling tight-lipped at him.

You watch Jungkook's profile the entire time as he smiles back at Hobi before letting him walk towards the bar.

He looks like one of those smiles that takes over his lips when you catch his mind wandering, back at the gym.

A light smile that seems to hide something more.

When Jungkook turns back to bring his attention back to the conversation in progress, your eyes meet for the umpteenth time and his weak smile widens into a smirk.

He leans towards you slightly, while Tae and Hani continue to discuss something you don't quite listen to and his face gets dangerously close to yours.

“Are you going to keep looking at me all night?”

Jungkook speaks close to your ear, he doesn't whisper but he still makes sure you're the only one to hear him.

The sudden closeness of his body allows your nostrils to immediately capture his scent, the one you've had on you thanks to his motorcycle jacket and as the memory of that evening returns to your slightly alcohol-influenced mind, you smile mischievously.

“How can you say I'm looking at you all the time?”

Jungkook shifts his head slightly so he can look at you better as he says

"Because every time I look at you your eyes are already looking at me,"

You sigh, his voice far too calm to cause such turmoil within you. You try to ignore his usual attempt to make you blush, failing miserably when he continues, “You look like you want something.”

This man right here, damn. He knows, you know he knows the effect he has on you. It's clear.

You feel hotter but you manage to retort.

"And what about you? Why are you looking at me so often?"

The liquid courage you have in your body is enough to make you ask straight away, basking in the feeling of his body so close to yours.

Jungkook's eyes watch you intently and a gleam of amusement adorns his deep irises.

He moistens his lips and the movement of his tongue doesn't escape your gaze, but right as he is about to answer your question, Hobi returns, but empty-handed.

“Sorry guys,” Hobi interjects, his face darkened with worry compared to earlier. "Some problem came up with the registration documents and they asked me to help check." He says hastily as he apologizes once again.

Tae offers to go with him and solve the problem at hand but Hobi shakes his head,

"There is no need, I don't want you to ruin your night with bureaucratic bullshit. See you on the track tomorrow! It was nice meeting you Y/N!

"Pleasure is mine Hobi!"

You reply, giving him a smile.

As you watch him go, you realize that you have just met this boy, and yet you feel that you have made the acquaintance of a genuinely beautiful person.

It's so rare nowadays.

“So guys,” Hani exclaims loudly, catching everyone's attention.

"Tae and I are planning a relaxing ride next Sunday."

Jungkook nods.

"Where were you guys thinking of going?"

You watch your friends discuss the details of the itinerary and realize that you're actually considered part of the trip only when you notice that at the idea of the four of you going on a ride together, Jungkook seems relaxed, almost as if it were obvious to take you around on his beloved Ducky. Maybe your mind is wandering a little too much, but it makes you blush a little.

“It can be done, as long as Y/N agrees.”

The pronunciation of your name draws your attention, refocusing you on the group.

"Mh?

"I said if you feel like getting the necessary moto gear, we can go."

Jungkook repeats, Hani and Tae are looking at you as you try to seriously focus on organizing the aforementioned ride.

"Yes, no problem, but I don't know where to buy what I need."

"I'll take you to the store where I bought mine!"

Hani exclaims with a smile.

“I can get you some gloves but as far as helmet and jacket, make sure you get stuff that's the right size for you.”

You shake your head, saying that you will take care of getting everything you need with Hani.

"Oh, yeah I forgot how small your hands are, it's definitely better if you try them on at the store."

Jungkook evidently can never stop himself from teasing you.

His comment causes a mischievous smile on Tae's face and a very satisfied one on Jungkook's.

Hani purses her lips, trying to hold back a laugh, or whatever she was about to say.

Your eyes roll in mock annoyance as you playfully push Jungkook.

"Okay, it's decided then!"

States Hani, who sports a satisfied smile as she continues, “Oh, I forgot something in the car! Come on Tae.”

She grabs Tae's hand and before you can even point it out, he anticipates you by saying, "But you came in an Uber!"

Hani glares at him, "Just come."

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the obvious attempt to leave you two alone, while you watch them go in disbelief and slight embarrassment. You want to curse her, but you know it's what you really want too. You want time alone with him, you want to take advantage of the courage you feel inside this evening to understand a little more this tattooed and lip-pierced mystery.

The dance floor is full and you can no longer see the bartender behind the bar due to how many people are waiting to receive their drinks.

You don't even remember the last time you attended a party like this, the only thing that comes to mind when you think about it is Ray almost causing a fight with a guy who mistook you for his friend, the fight that came of it once you left the party and the tears you shed because of his sharp words, is the only memory of that last party you attended.

You return your gaze to Jungkook as anger and sadness from past events threaten to make their way onto your face.

There is no need to dwell on the past, past parties are in the past, Ray is not here and nothing stops you from enjoying the evening and putting off your worries about your ex and his passive aggressive messages until tomorrow.

Jungkook watches the dancing crowd, moving his head to the beat of the music as he's leaning against the wall.

You admire him so much, he always seems to have everything under control, no matter the shadow that darkens his face every now and then, he seems to always manage to return to reality and enjoy the little things.

"Want to dance?" You don't give your shyness time to reconsider the invitation that the words have already left your mouth. You hold out your hand as you invite him to join you. 

He looks at your hand briefly before replying with a soft smile, “Why not.” and join his hand to yours.

You clasp your hand around his and lead him through the crowd.

You feel boldness fill you, you hadn't even considered the possibility that he might refuse and happy that he didn't, you reach a spot that isn't too crowded, the volume of the music is louder here and you feel the effect on your skin as your heart follows its own rhythm.

Thanks to what you drank and the need to let yourself go at least for tonight, you let your body feel the music.

His movements are loose and yours adapt to his almost immediately. Jungkook watches you the entire time, paying attention to every movement of your body, as if he wants to imprint them in his mind for later.

When you look up and meet his gaze, this time you hold it, smiling mischievously before turning your back on him.

You continue to dance filled with a wave of audacity, your every movement is seductive for him, who can't take his eyes off of you.

The line of your back is far too attractive to keep at a distance so, all of a sudden, you feel Jungkook's body move closer to yours.

The closeness causes a leap in your chest, but what he says is the cause of the heightened blush on your face.

You feel like your cheeks are perpetually burning because of him.

"What happened to the super shy girl who showed up at the gym a while ago?"

His voice is almost a whisper as you feel his face close to your ear.

You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder before answering confidently.

"She has learned to dare more." and with that, you decide to lean against his body completely.

Fuck shyness, fuck fears and comfort zones. If tomorrow you have to deal with the consequences of Ray's reappearance, you want to enjoy this one night to the fullest.

You hear Jungkook chuckle softly as a tentative hand finds its place on your hip.

He caresses you flat and softly from your hip up, his palm just grazing the edge of your bra as you wonder what it might be like without your clothes in between.

"It's clear that you're not that shy tonight, either."

You retort as you roll your hips against his. You feel his hand get slightly heavier on your hip as he presses you gently until your body is completely attached to his.

His other hand reaches for your shoulder and brushes your hair away to reveal your neck.

The gesture causes heat in your lower abdomen, you swallow unconsciously at the unexpected reaction of your body. Maybe it's been too long since someone touched you like this or maybe it's the power that Jeon Jungkook has over your body now, but you feel that at this rate you run the risk of melting in his arms.

“What makes you say that, princess?”

His breath tickles you as he whispers the words directly into your skin. His lips don't even touch you once and you wish they would.

You push your hips against his a little more as you continue to move languidly. His fingers mindlessly caress the curve of your neck and you close your eyes as you enjoy the feeling.

“The way you're touching me now.”

You reply in a small voice as your hand reaches for the one resting on your hip,

you hold it as if it might disappear if you don't.

You shiver slightly when his hot breath teases the thin skin of your exposed neck again and the grip of his hand under yours grows more and more.

“I can do more and better, wouldn't you like that?”

You feel the effect of your movements directly against your butt and it gives you even more confidence.

You feel completely intoxicated by his touch, nothing to do with the alcohol that undoubtedly contributed to you finding yourself in this situation, everything you are feeling now is the work of his touch, of his body against yours and of his words.

You're dying to fuck him, to feel his hands all over your naked body as he whispers dirty things in your ear. But at the same time you don't want this to ruin your friendship, you don't want there to be misunderstandings between you. You can always enjoy the pleasures of sex without unnecessary feelings being involved, right?

You don't feel ready yet and you hope Jungkook is of the same opinion as you, that he also wants to have sex with you without strings attached.

You spin around and your hands rest on his broad shoulders. You look at him for a moment, his eyes dark and full of longing as you whisper in his ear, "As long as it's the only thing you want too."

When you look back at him to decipher his reaction, you notice that Jungkook initially seems surprised by your statement, then a pleased smile forms on his plump lips and his hands suddenly become bolder, moving down from your hips to the small of your back. You barely hold back a moan when you feel the hardness of his member and the firmness of his hands on you.

Jungkook holds you close and you don't know when exactly your bodies stopped following the rhythm of the music. He firmly squeezes one of your buttock while you caress the locks of his nape.

You watch him move closer to your neck once again and this time, you feel his wet lips brush against you just below your ear.

"Are you really the first girl I don't have to give the usual speech to? Am I dreaming?"

His deep voice reaches the parts of your body that you never thought would be affected by a simple voice.

"What speech?" You sigh when you feel his hands move up your back.

"The one that makes my intentions clear."

Jungkook looks back at you, as if wanting to make sure he hasn't misunderstood anything.

"It seems we want the same thing, then."

You state in a rush, feeling the places he touches completely on fire.

"Do we?"

Jungkook tilts his head slightly as he holds you impossibly tighter. You feel completely enveloped by the warmth of his body when his thigh slides and finds its place between your legs.

A soft moan escapes your lips and it seems to trigger something in him, you hear him breathe deeply before asking in a low voice.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

From the tone of his voice it is clear that he knows what you want, he simply wants you to confess it freely.

His thigh twitches between your legs, rubbing just right against the place you want it the most.

You follow its movements, completely enraptured by the sensations you are experiencing.

There is no room for shame right now in your mind clouded by the burning desire for him.

The only thing you can think about is his leg repeatedly teasing your clit and the caresses of his hands along your back.

Your hands tremble slightly with pleasure as they involuntarily grasp the strands falling at the nape of his neck.

Jungkook hisses through his teeth but doesn't resist, in fact he seems to like this little gesture from you.

You look at him for a moment and his adam's apple is so inviting that you can't resist the temptation.

You move his head to the side to get more access and lick the surface up to his jaw.

You would continue to enjoy this lewd moment as long as it lasted.

You thought you would tease each other for a while and then go back to your friends, but no.

Jungkook is just as involved as you are.

The groan that vibrates in his throat reached a part of your brain that is now completely short-circuited.

"I want to fuck you."

The words come out with frightening ease and are enough to make Jungkook look back at you through lidded eyes.

“And I don't want anything more than that.”

You know you're not ready to take that leap, but the uncertainty hidden in your voice reaches somewhere in your chest.

It hurts something when you watch him smile widely at your latest statement.

A fleeting pain, overtaken by the strong desire caused by the hardness of his member, throbbing against your thigh.

“Yeah, we definitely want the exact same thing.”

It was already quite clear, but hearing you say it is something else.

Jungkook moves away from you, leaving your body to the cold void his hands left. 

Then, he grabs your hand, leading you past the crowd and towards the other side of the place.

You look around, convinced he wants to take you to the bathrooms, but you realize that with every step you take, you are getting closer to the locker's room.

"Where are we going?"

You ask loudly, as Jungkook continues his zig zag through the people holding your hand.

"At my place." he answers.

“I thought you wanted to do it in the bathroom, haven't you been drinking?”

You know that driving under the influence of alcohol is a terrible idea.

Jungkook stops in his tracks for a moment noticing your hesitation in continuing and you hear him chuckle before answering.

"I shared a joint before," he looks into your eyes, as you inspect them, "And then, you saw me drinking a cola, I don't drink alcohol."

Jungkook continues to look at you, though his eyes avoid yours now, lingering on your lips.

You want to ask him more but before you can, he leans in close to you to whisper, making your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Besides, why would I take you to a public bathroom when I can make you scream in the comfort of my own bed?”

He knows all too well that he has the upper hand and is taking advantage of it.

Damn Jeon Jungkook and the effect he has on you.

The heat spreads again in your belly and when you look at him you just want to bite that plump lip, tease his piercing and let that mocking smile get lost in moans of pleasure.

“Or maybe you feel more comfortable doing it at yours?”

His tone of voice lacks malice this time, after all, you have now understood that Jungkook is a caring person and therefore he wants to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.

You nod and smile at his consideration.

"At mine."

Jungkook tightens his hand around yours again, smirking.

You quickly reach the exit after collecting your things from the lockers.

And there she is, Ducky.

You will climb on her for the second time, soon there will even be a third, you can't help but smile at the thought.

Strange how different reasons are leading you to get on a motorbike so often, not that this is a complaint, far from it.

You tremble at the thought of experiencing certain sensations once again, this time even, with the prospect of sleeping with Jungkook.

He invites you to wear his gear once again, but you strenuously refuse to deprive him of his jacket this time. Even though he was annoyed at first, Jungkook had to give in to your determination.

December cold is unforgiving.

In order to compromise, you wear his helmet, unable to argue with its importance.

You reach your apartment complex after a while, Jungkook was driving the entire time at a speed well under the legal limit, allowing you to hug his body to shield yourself from the cold as much as possible.

Once you reach the building's underground parking lot, you get off Ducky and take off the helmet to hand it to him. You smile brightly and hear Jungkook chuckle to himself as he shakes his head.

"You really like to ride, huh?"

You look at him while he's fixing his disheveled hair and it's a vision that you didn't think could affect you so much.

You think Jungkook would look sexy even wearing a battered potato sack, but seeing him in these clothes, you think, will always turn you on.

“Oh trust me, I love riding Ducky, but I can't wait to ride you.”

You haven't felt this lustful for someone in a while.

Surely the drinks you had before are not supporting you to keep certain thoughts to yourself.

Jungkook sighs visibly impressed by your bluntness and you could swear you heard him curse.

"Can't wait for you to show me."

Seeing Jungkook now, in the flesh, inside your apartment is something.

You watch as he places his helmet near the entrance door and places his jacket on top of it before taking off his shoes.

As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment. 

The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it.

You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as you walk, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on a counter, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.

As you do the same, taking off your coat and shoes to put them away, he looks around, taking in the appearance of your apartment. 

The foyer is small but well arranged, with a large mirror and a shoe rack right beside it and the little hallway that connects your entrance to your living area is decorated with pictures, plants and some of your favorite sketches.

You lead the way to reach your couch in the living room and as he walks behind you, his eyes land on some of your latest sketches scattered around on the counter of your kitchen, one of it appears to be a pair of boxing gloves and he finds himself chuckling like an idiot.

"Why are you laughing?"

You're puzzled by his sudden reaction. 

"I like your apartment, it fits your vibe."

He answers quietly and you smile shyly in appreciation, suggesting him to make himself comfortable on the couch.

"Want something to drink?

 You ask him, walking behind the counter to reach your fridge.

"Just water, thanks." 

He replies as he sits comfortably. You get some fresh water and when you get back you offer him the glass.

Jungkook sips from it and you join him on the couch.

Your heart always beats so fast in his presence that by now you're almost getting used to the constant hustle and bustle in your chest.

"You really don't like alcohol."

You say lightheartedly as you gather your legs up on the couch and turn to face him.

You curse your damn mouth when you realize that your comment made Jungkook tense up.

You just wanted to make him feel comfortable but before you can think of something to recover, Jungkook takes another sip of water before replying in a low voice.

"Yeah. I prefer weed, even though I rarely smoke anymore."

His eyes look at you for a brief moment, dark as pitch or a moonless sky.

They then move to the coffee table in front of you to put the glass down.

"I'd say you don't need it anyway. You don't need it to boost your confidence, like me."

Something moves in his eyes when you say this. His hand on your thigh pulls your attention away.

You watch it as it lays on your thigh softly. 

The tone of his voice, his firm aversion to alcohol and his troubled eyes makes you ponder, but you can't formulate any sentence that doesn't risk making him even more gloomy.

Jungkook taught you many things in the gym, undoubtedly to throw good punches, but also to have courage in general, to dare and not to let fears stop you.

He was able to free that part of you that you have always adored, the one that made you achieve your most ambitious goals, despite having to sacrifice a healthy relationship with your family.

And he was able to get you there, easily, without even having to tell you openly what to do.

Despite his tacit support helped you regain a little confidence, you feel like he doesn't need the same. Like he needs you to voice your thoughts with him, even if it's not always as easy as after a few drinks on your system. 

You've always sensed that something keeps him anchored to a remote island in the back of his mind and you don't want him to take refuge there right now.

"You are right,"

Your voice is sweet, it matches his from earlier and with one movement you lift yourself, moving one leg to take it beyond his.

You sit on his thighs and place your hands gently on his shoulders.

Jungkook looks at you smugly and pleasantly surprised and you're happy to notice that island receding in the mirror of his eyes.

They slowly fill with lust for you, as they observe your body so close to his.

“Even though I drank a little, I'm sober enough to say that everything I did tonight, I've always wanted to do.”

Jungkook feels the weight of your body and the weight of your words right on his.

You're sitting directly on his growing member and his hands find their place on your hips as he pulls you closer.

“Wait until you see what I've always wanted to do to you.”

With that, his mouth takes over your neck.

He tastes your skin like he's finally testing a drop of water after a walk in the desert and you're the only source he wants to put his mouth on.

You moan as you tilt your head to let him taste you as he pleases.

Jungkook takes the opportunity to bite you a little, leaving a small blush on your skin and licking it to soothe the stinging spot.

You try to control yourself as his hands venture up your back.

“You have a condom on you?” You whisper all of a sudden.

Jungkook keeps kissing your neck, hesitantly moving one hand from your body only to pull a condom out of his back pocket.

He hands it to you and then grabs the hem of your sweater, stopping his assault to help you take it off. A shiver runs up your spine, realizing you're now in your bra in front of him, the cool air of the room brushes against your hot skin and his hands promptly return to your hips and back.

You squeeze the little silver package between your fingers as he pulls your body against him, your hips move almost automatically as you feel his member getting harder and harder. And in return you get wetter and wetter.

You're a complete mess in his arms as you buck your hips, panting slightly at every movement.

When his hands press you more against him, a loud moan leaves your lips and with it, the last bit of restraint you had.

You grab the hem of his sweatshirt, urgently undressing him.

"Someone is impatient." He chuckles breathlessly as he lets you undress him.

"Your fault." You reply as you move to undo his jeans.

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?"

The aroused expression on your face is something he hopes to keep in mind for as long as possible.

You drop down to help him take off his jeans completely and Jungkook remains in his black Calvin Klein briefs. The outline of his hard member held with difficulty in the confines of the fabric, making you salivate at its sight.

You stand up and take the opportunity to remove your pants in front of him, while his gaze is glued to you.

If his eyes could touch, you would feel their stroke everywhere right now, like a dry brush on a virgin canvas.

They eagerly study every single curve, every movement you do is carefully followed as you reveal your panties and legs to him.

“You're so hot Y/N…”

You hear him breathing heavily and only after adding your pants to the pile of clothes do you turn back to look him in the eyes.

He's touching himself through his underwear at the sight of your body and despite everything that already happened, you're still blushing.

You are engulfed in the flames of pleasure, yet the blush on your cheeks is caused by something deeper.

You ignore this thought immediately, setting aside that thing that tries to push to make itself some space and focus on the need that screams between your legs instead.

You climb on top of him again, leaning on his shoulders.

"Jungkook,"

You whisper in his ear, looking him in the eyes right now would mean exposing yourself too much, paradoxically.

What a strange contradiction though.

You're already almost completely naked in front of him, but the idea of letting him look you in the eyes while you say the next words makes you feel too vulnerable.

"If we do this, I want us to agree on a few things."

As you try to regain your courage, you lick his neck, moving down towards his collarbone to reach his pectorals.

"I'm listening."

He sighs as he lets his head go back, as if wanting to give you total access to him, basking in the feelings your tongue is giving.

Jungkook is completely engrossed, he seems to enjoy every little thing without thinking too much while you're struggling to let yourself go completely.

The friendship that has developed between you over these months is something you care about and you wouldn't want to ruin it for simple sex.

Even if you're dying to enjoy these moments you've been craving, you're afraid of ruining everything.

"We're just friends who are going to fuck, right?"

You ask tentatively as you continue to leave a trail of saliva with your tongue and lips across his toned chest.

"No awkwardness after."

You're not sure why you're saying this when you can't even look him in the eyes right now, but at the same time you're saying it precisely to not let your fear stop you.

Maybe you're just trying to convince yourself that nothing will change and that you can let yourself go, or just to make sure you both are still on the same page, but Jungkook doesn't seem to notice your inner conflict right now, too distracted by your ministrations probably.

"This is not going to ruin our friendship if that's what you're worried about."

He states between breaths as he wraps a hand in the middle of your hair.

“The fact that we both know what we want from each other and what we don't, won't cause any problems, don't you think?”

He pulls your hair slightly to expose your neck, and you close your eyes unconsciously when you feel his lips on your skin once again.

"No awkwardness after."

His whisper makes you shiver with pleasure and almost as if you needed to have this confirmation from him, you open your eyes and move to finally be able to lower his underwear.

His penis rises free from the confines and you are a little surprised at the size. He throbs in front of you with the tip red and moist as you observe the succulent veins adorning its surface.

"So we're gonna be ride buddies and friends who fucked once."

Jungkook holds his legs open as you get on your knees in front of him to pull his briefs completely off.

"Let's see if you still want it to be once after I fuck you just right."

You smile sensing Jungkook's usual way of doing things, his classic way of provoking you while he smiles with confidence.

"Bold are we?"

You snicker as you pump your little fist around his shaft a couple of times.

He hisses.

"You've got the lead for now, wait and see when it's my turn."

He says through gritted teeth as he clearly tries not to give in to your touch too shamefully.

"We'll see."

You move closer, gently placing your lips on the side of his cock as you continue to move your hand slowly.

The intense teasing served to make him super responsive.

Jungkook squirms a little when you carefully spread his precum on the sensitive tip.

You hear as he tries to limit his sounds.

You look up momentarily when your mouth finally settles around his moistened tip, only to see his reaction.

Jungkook instinctively brings his head back and his mouth opens in a silent moan of pleasure.

He sighs heavily as his hands grip the fabric of the couch he's sitting on.

The vision of his naked body exposed to your will causes a shiver down your spine and with your free hand you move down until you reach the most sensitive part of your body.

You give yourself pleasure as you move your mouth and hand finding a rhythm that could be pleasant for him.

You listen carefully for any reaction that might let you know that you are doing the right thing as you keep your eyes closed, completely letting yourself go to the small sounds he makes.

When you twist your wrist slightly and let go of his cock with a pop to catch your breath, Jungkook lets out a throaty moan and he is breathing noticeably faster now.

You're so wet now that you think he could fit inside you without too much effort, you continue to tease your clit while jerking him off at the same speed.

You leave a trail of little kisses along his member, from the tip to the balls.

You look at him again and unexpectedly meet his gaze.

You feel your confidence waver for the briefest of moments when you notice his eyes looking at you intently.

His pierced lip is caught between his teeth as he breathes deeply through his nose.

He's trying in every way possible to block any sound that might come from his mouth and it's almost annoying to notice the effort he puts into it.

"Let me hear."

You say softly between small kisses.

“I want to know if I'm doing well or not.”

You tickle with your wet tongue from bottom to top, once again reaching the sensitive tip.

His cock throbs in your hand and you smirk satisfied.

You don't need to hear his moans to know that he's completely into it, but you still want to hear them because of you, it's almost a visceral need at this point.

"You're doing great,"

He responds in a deep voice.

He moves the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes with a finger as he tries to steady his breathing.

A soft gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you keep your focus on your movements.

Your hands continue to move in unison as you moan, kissing and licking his cock. You purposely avoid taking him fully into your mouth, teasing him every now and then when you feel the sounds getting stuck in his throat.

You feel pervaded by the power that these circumstances can give.

Jungkook watches you the whole time as you work on him and yourself.

He evidently noticed the effect his words had on you, his little praise gave you more confidence, allowing you to let go a little more.

Jungkook suddenly stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder just when you thought he was enjoying it a lot, or at least it seemed like that from his persistent and muffled groaning.

“Y/N, let me taste you please..”

You hear the desperation in his voice and you can see it in his face when you lean up to look at him, a little bit of saliva wetting your chin.

His eyes are completely dark, full of the longing that you know he can see in your eyes too.

He moves to stand up, forcing you back onto your feet before picking you up.

You yelp at the sudden motion, holding onto his neck for support as he helps you wrap your legs around his hips.

“Where is your bedroom?”

Jungkook asks as he latches onto your already battered neck.

"Down the hallway, second door on the right."

In no time, Jungkook transports you following your directions. He pushes the door open with his foot before entering and letting you lie on your soft bed.

He watches you bounce once on it, then looks you up and down with an unreadable look.

Being in your apartment, on your bed, almost completely naked in front of him, definitely makes you bolder, feeling more comfortable.

You just realized how far you've gone with him, that you can't go back now.

Not that you want to, honestly.

You observe him, majestic in front of you, the faint glow of the moon that leaks into the room illuminates his skin deliciously, accentuating every muscle of his toned body.

Your eyes do their best to capture every detail and imprint it in your memory.

Jungkook bends over you, caging your legs with his powerful arms.

You remain propped up on your forearms as your breathing becomes increasingly labored.

His hands rest at your sides and with a firm but delicate movement, he pulls you towards him.

He bends down to let his tongue leave a wet trail across your belly, to the edge of your panties.

The passage of his mouth so close to your core, feeds the fire in your belly.

"Can I?"

He asks softly as his thumbs hook your panties on both sides.

He looks at you, patiently waiting for your permission.

Or your refusal.

You see a hint of hesitation in his gaze, as if he doesn't want to go any further against your will.

You can feel this small detail slowly infiltrating under your skin. You feel it brings to the light something that you would have preferred to remain in the dark, especially in this moment.

Ray.

Why did he always assumed he could take everything without ever asking?

Why doesn't Jungkook take without asking?

These are questions you can't answer. Deep down you know you don't want them, that answers would only cause you more pain.

You swallow, trying to shut off the bitter taste of the past.

"Please…"

You can't say anything else, you whisper this simple word that encompasses everything you're feeling right now.

Please do it.

Please make me forget all the bad things for tonight.

Please take me.

His eyes light up and his skilled hands easily remove the fabric that covered your most intimate part.

Only now you do realize how uncomfortable and annoying the wet fabric you were wearing was.

You feel the cool air hit the moist and hot skin of your pussy and you sigh when his hands return to you after leaving the newly removed garment somewhere on the floor.

He gently places his hands on your thighs, spreading them just enough so he can observe your dripping wet pussy.

Seeing the glisten of your juices makes his blood burn in his veins.

You gasp when his soft lips lay on your clit.

Jungkook is humming delightedly, then he starts to kiss it with delicacy, allowing you to adapt to the stimulus while he lets his tongue tease you slowly.

You close your eyes and try to relax your legs.

His lips are more insistent, until he ends up making out with your soft wet pussy.

You can't hold back your moans and you lie down completely on the bed as you let him eat you out.

Just as you had done earlier, he maintains a slow but precise pace, as if he wants to take revenge for all the teasing and savor your flavor at the same time.

Unlike his, your moans follow one another and you can't stop yourself.

They gradually become stronger and more intense as Jungkook continues to make out with your pussy.

He holds your hips, soothing the skin right beneath his thumbs with circular motions.

It's a sensation you've never felt before, you feel your orgasm building slowly, so slowly that you almost think you'll lose it at any moment, only to change your mind when with precise movements you feel the pleasure accumulating, like waves that add to each other. One after another, before reaching the coast in one large, powerful wave.

He moves his tongue with a constant rhythm and when with a faint voice you warn him that you are about to come, surprisingly enough, Jungkook maintains the same rhythm, he doesn't speed up, he doesn't press his tongue more forcefully against your already very sensitive clit.

With pleasant surprise, you notice that he keeps this pace and it is clear that he knows what he is doing.

He doesn't go crazy trying to catch it, when he already knows where and how to find it.

The only difference is the intensity with which he makes out with your pussy, kissing and licking it passionately, drunk on your juices.

You moan louder as your body tenses more and more like a violin string, until with a delicate but firm movement of his tongue, your orgasm hits you violently.

With his gentle and precise gestures, you didn't expect such an intense and violent orgasm, your body writhes in ecstasy while a string of profanities and panting breaths leave your lips.

Your legs try to close as they tremble from the stimulation, but Jungkook firmly separates them again, enjoying the taste of you for a little longer. You hear him groan and at a quick glance you notice his frowning expression.

You whine from the overstimulation and it's the only signal that seems to stop him.

He pulls off while still remaining in front of your throbbing and swollen pussy and his labored breathing tickles you gently.

“Sorry,” he states, licking his shiny lips for a moment. “You taste so sweet I couldn't stop.”

You look at him while you feel a constant pounding in your chest and your breathing doesn't want to calm down.

His hair is disheveled, his cheeks are flushed and his eyebrows are still a little furrowed.

You prop yourself up on your elbows again, one hand reaching for his hair, letting it sink into its messy locks, as if wanting to tidy them up a bit.

"I wanna ride you now."

You state decisively and perhaps a little too pretentious, you add,

"Can I?"

Jungkook looks at you as he stands up, offers you a hand while you observe him in all his beauty, naked and with his erect member that you can't wait to welcome inside you.

Tonight you got to immortalize every detail of his body in your memory.

His totally tattooed arm, his sculpted body and his face, at times so sweet that you couldn't believe it is capable of contorting into those expressions of pleasure that you saw earlier.

You accept his hand and let him pull you onto him while he says "How can I say no when you ask it so nicely."

You smile mischievously and take the opportunity to accompany him, pushing him by the shoulders onto your bed.

Jungkook takes place where you were laying, he sinks into your sheets as he settles in.

You reach him with your legs still shaking and climb up until you're almost sitting on his thighs.

You pick up the condom that you had previously abandoned on the bed next to you, but before you can open it to let him put it on, you can't resist the temptation to put your mouth back on his inviting cock.

You give a provocative lick, spreading your saliva all over the surface you trace and you understand how much he too wants to finally be able to feel you when his hips suddenly move upwards.

"Fuck-"

You continue to lick slowly for a few moments while you stimulate him a little with your hand.

When you look at him, he's already looking at you and it doesn't surprise you, his mouth is slightly open as he tries to regulate his breathing.

He looks so sexy right now, you can see in his expression the immense heat burning in his irises. The need he feels to possess you.

"Stop teasing me."

His voice is strained and his face speaks clearly: if you continue like this he won't resist much longer, he can't wait to see you jump on his cock.

The mere look in his eyes makes you clench your walls in anticipation and with a little effort you finally get him to wear the condom.

You move to finally be able to position yourself on his erect member and begin to lower yourself. A shiver runs through your limbs, the small tingling you feel as he penetrates you is almost immediately replaced by pleasure.

Jungkook is big, but you're so wet that he can slide inside you with ease.

You support yourself with your hands on his chest as you close your eyes to fully enjoy the sensations you're feeling. You continue to move down until you are completely seated on him. You feel full, his hands resting on your hips and squeezing you lightly.

When you reopen your eyes, you look at him and get lost for an infinite moment in front of what you see.

Jungkook looks at you through eyes half closed in pleasure, he's been looking at you the entire time, as if the scene in front of him is the key to understanding the entire movie.

If memory had any capacity, this moment would take up most of the space in Jungkook's mind for a long time to come.

After a few moments, you feel like you've gotten used to his girth and can finally move up and down.

Despite your legs still shaking from your previous orgasm, you manage to move at an increasing pace.

You moan without caring about the sounds you make, music to Jungkook's ears as he lets you do what you want with him, accompanying your movements with his hands.

You move messily as your legs start losing strength. You alternate your motions by rubbing your clit on him, moaning loudly when you feel your little sensitive nub stimulated like this and the squelching sound of your pussy fills the room. 

Jungkook hastily moves his hands behind your back, pulling at your bra to unclasp it. He doesn't take it off of you completely though, finding it more sexy the way he jumps up and down following your movements. 

"Fuck yes.."

He groans as he watches hypnotized your breasts bouncing out of your bra.

Then he tilts his head back onto your pillow as his arms flex with the motions of your body.

You bounce on his cock the best you can, tracing the side of his throat with your thumb, right above a little red spot you sucked on his skin.

The vision is enchanting.

The sounds he makes, addicting.

You're breathless, the muscles of your legs are burning from the effort but you keep bouncing and humping as you feel you're close to the second orgasm of the night.

"I-I'm clo-"

You're so close to the point of no return but suddenly, your legs are failing you and just like that, you tiredly collapse on his body.

Jungkook is quick to react, grabbing your hips tight enough to support you and adjust his position under you as he starts to thrust up.

Your moans are broken by every thrust as he diligently hammers your pussy up just right.

"You're so hot Y/N. So fucking hot."

He groans softly, pulling you impossibly closer.

You feel strange, like you're burning alive and flying at the same time.

You comfortably lay on his body as you let him lead you to the peak of your pleasure, licking and kissing his neck and ear lobe in the meantime.

"Fuck yes- yes!"

You moan his name as the fire explodes all of a sudden and the extreme pleasure you've built till now, crushes hard on you. And just like that, you feel your legs shake and your head light like a leaf blown by a gentle breeze.

Jungkook's thrusts slow down a little, milking your orgasm slowly till the very end. He only stops when you start whimpering, knowing you're probably super sensitive right now.

He pulls out and you whine to the feeling of emptiness, your walls slightly pulsing as you already miss the sensation of his cock deep inside of you.

"Are you ok?"

He asks you as he tries to stabilize his breathing.

Your body is still glued to his, your breathing is as ragged as his and you let the beating sound of his heart soothe you for a moment longer before you nod.

You slowly get up hissing a little and you look at him.

"Cum on me."

There's no longer space for filters and your brain is so fucked out that it doesn't even care how needy you sound right now. Even after your two orgasms. 

You're craving his touch, his sinful sounds, and you wanna know what it feels like to have his cum on your skin.

He smiles amused, chuckling a little.

"Yeah? And where do you want me to cum?"

His voice is husky and you feel your body reacting to that.

You buck your hips on his cock, blocking it between you and his stomach. 

Are you even sane right now? Did he fuck you out of your own brain?

"On my ass."

Yes, you're totally gone.

You're totally gone for this man.

You watch him as you keep moving on him, you see he swallows a moan as your wet pussy keeps rubbing on his member.

"Aren't you sensitive right now?"

He asks lowly.

"I can handle it."

You sit up, your battered pussy is still recovering from two orgasms but you know you can take it and you just want to show him how badly you still want him inside of you.

He laughs mischievously, looking at your fucked out beautiful face with pride.

"Lie on your belly for me, then."

You willingly obey, throwing your bra out of the way completely and resting your figure on your belly, just as he asked.

You can't see him from this position, you only feel his hand reach for your leg, bending it so that you're able to turn a little to the side.

He now has the possibility to keep looking at your body from this perspective. He has your ass, the side of your breast and your face at his mercy and he can't wait to enjoy your every expression from here.

"Stop me if it's too much."

You feel the weight of his firm body lay on you as he whispers, and when you turn your head to nod you meet his face, dangerously close to yours that you can feel his hot breath caressing you.

You're spread under him, fresh out from the two orgasms he just gave you and totally naked, yet there it is, the look you wanted to avoid earlier, the one you knew would make you feel really, really vulnerable. 

The mixture of his cares, his soft voice and his piercing dark eyes are sending danger signals to your brain as it feeds something deep in your chest.

You try to escape, diverting your eyes from the magnetism of his by nodding.

Jungkook pulls a little away, positioning himself right at your entrance.

You can hear him spit and the next thing you feel is his lubricated cock slowly pushing in.

You never felt like this, never had multiple orgasms and still wanted to fuck. The sensitivity is still there, you feel the heat spreading to your nerves as he slowly but surely bottoms up.

It's only when he starts moving that you feel a peak in your pleasure, like he is able to touch all the right spots at once.

He finds a rhythm, grabbing the flesh of your ass and pulling you to meet his hips.

Your breath is irregular, just like his, and you start pushing your palm on the sheets as every thrust is pushing you up the bed.

Jungkook has a better idea though.

He lets go of your ass completely as he swiftly grabs your arm and blocks it behind your back.

Feeling restrained like this by him causes a moan to escape your throat, followed by another one when he uses your arm as a grip instead of your ass to keep you in place.

"You like that huh"

He says through gritted teeth, the angle allows him to see the profile of your face as he fucks you hard and steady. 

Your sweet innocent face, contorted in pleasure is an ethereal vision to his eyes.

And the fact that it's him causing you to feel this good, makes him feral.

You say yes a couple of times between your moans and heavy breaths.

He speeds up his pace a little more, always cautious of your reactions, not wanting you to feel any discomfort.

But what he hears from you next is what makes his balls tighten dangerously.

"Slap my ass, please-"

Your voice is broken but firm as you say it and something about it makes him go completely insane.

Perhaps the "please" part, or the way in which you're voicing your desire right now, mixed with your sweet moans and submissiveness.

He slaps his free hand onto your buttock hard enough to sting, and listens to the smacking sound and the throaty moan you let out resonate in his ears.

"Oh fuck-"

He lets out, pure ecstasy laced in his raspy voice as he soothes your skin.

His thrusts are becoming sloppier, more erratic, and he's louder than before as he's chasing his own orgasm now.

You're addicted to the sounds he makes during sex, that's clear by now. Every time a throaty moan escapes his lips, you wish you could record it and use it when you'll be alone.

Suddenly, he frees your arm and pulls out. You assume he's taking off the condom as you try to regain some strength to push your hair away and look at him over your shoulder. 

You watch him pumping fast his cock as his free hand strokes the reddened skin of your ass.

His eyes are shut tightly and you keep watching him moan loudly as spurs of his hot cum land on your ass.

He keeps pumping till the last drop then he slaps his cock on your cum covered skin and you've never seen something hotter than what just happened.

When he comes down from his orgasm, he smirks at you, tired and satisfied.

You chuckle softly, covering your face with your arm without even noticing.

“Fuck, that was-”

"Amazing. Yes"

It was, it was indeed amazing.

He finishes your sentence in a small voice as he tries to steady his ragged breathing, still remaining where he is.

You feel his hot seed slowly dripping down your skin and when your breath is stable enough you move to the side of the bed to get up.

“I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind.”

you say, moving to get to your bathroom.

“Not at all, go ahead.”

When your shower is over and you feel refreshed and relaxed, you return to your room with only a robe covering you, your skin still a little damp under the fabric of the robe.

Surprisingly you find him fully dressed, you sure didn't expect him to stay longer but you at least wanted him to take a shower before leaving.

"Are you sure you don't wanna take a shower too?"

You ask him as you approach.

"Yeah don't worry." you watch him as he brushes his hair out of his face and fixes his clothes.

You remain silent after that, it feels strange and a little heavy.

Should you ask him to stay? 

Will it be awkward from now on? 

Was it a mistake from the beginning?

You don't want him to think you're kind of kicking him out. The unhealthy overthinking starts pestering you and you don't even notice you've walked with him to the door of your apartment.

He gathers his helmet and jacket from the floor and turns to you with a little smile.

"I better go. Don't want Ducky to get jealous."

It makes you laugh lightly and you can't keep yourself from playfully rolling your eyes at him.

It's still him, the Jungkook that loves to tease you and makes silly jokes.

You probably needed this to get back on earth and realize that you should stop overthinking.

"Oh! Of course we don't want that!"

You emphasize and your fake concern makes him chuckle. 

It won't be awkward from now on after all.

You open the door for him and when he comes out he zips up his jacket, ready to leave.

"Let me know when you're going to the shop to get your gear."

He smiles, one of those smiles that make the drums go crazy in your chest.

"I will. Drive safe."

And for a moment you smile at each other, probably knowing that from this exact moment, it won't be easy to keep your hands away from each other.

Tonight marked an important step for you, not only the boost of confidence that you sported, but you can tell with certainty that your past is still bothering you, from time to time, but it doesn't have your present in its claws.

The decisions you made tonight could bring you to another disappointment, to another loss. Especially when this sensation on your chest keeps going off almost as a reminder, telling you 'Hey, in case you didn't notice, I'm right here!'

It will probably pass if you just ignore it…

It will go away as fast as it came… Right?

◀ [Prev. Chapter] | [Next Chapter] ▶

[storminormins]

PLEASE TALK MORE ABOUT LADYHAWKE I BEG YOU

Mmkay I'm just gonna ramble for A BIT under the cut

I managed to find a copy of the finalized script after watching the movie, since I was very curious to see any content I could about the making of Ladyhawke- it was an interesting read, seeing what was cut and what was changed.

I know its already a two hour movie, but they should have bitten the bullet and made a lotr length movie, because some of these DELETED SCENES-!

Here is a picture of one, this is the only evidence I could find of the script ending of the movie, but we got Isabeau and Navarre on Goliath riding into the sunset.

I'll be forever upset that most of the unused footage was probably destroyed, because I would PAY for a directors cut of this movie.

Anyway, SO-

I think one of the major changes from script to screen was how the relationships between Navarre, Isabeau, and Phillipe shook out, the biggest catalyst being after the casting happened- specifically the recasting of Kurt Russel to Rutger Hauer as Navarre. It went more from drawing tension of a possible love triangle to Navarre being solidly over 40 and Isabeau looking gracefully timeless. Phillipe being just in his 20's.

So it shifted the dynamic from that tension, to three very lonely people struggling through life, regaining the very human need for companionship. While hunting down the guy that ruined their life, of course.

Some of the cut scenes include:

Phillipe and Navarre actually met before the confrontation at the village- Phillipe being chased by guards across a bridge (this is how Marquet heard that Navarre was back, Navarre let one guy live so he could tell Marquet he was coming for him.)

Bonus, Navarre being referred to as this:

THIS WHOLE CUT CONVERSATION between Phillipe and Isabeau, from after getting the arrow removed from her shoulder:

I feel like this changes how Navarre's decision in the end of the movie could be taken- they were both straight up not having a good time, and both were determined to either break the curse or kill the Bishop as a final act.

Also hinging on this, is another cut conversation between them again, after the high stress of killing the wolf hunter:

AUGH, because if Phillipe knows anything, he knows how much these two love each other; that the situation is rapidly getting worse for them, and if they don't break the curse soon, he worries that they aren't going to make it- that they'll give up hope; in love, and in each other.

(This is also interesting because Phillipe is not lying to Navarre when he tells him that she cursed the day they met, it was just cut from the movie.)

So Phillipe just becomes more and more determined to keep the fire lit, to keep kindling the scraps of hope they have. He dances with Isabeau, tries to cheer her.

Of course, he finds this a lot harder to do with Navarre, as the man is dead-set on pursuing his suicide mission to kill the Bishop. The man is Stubborn and also on the last strings of sanity. Which adds more narrative weight to the moment when Navarre finally stops fighting against them, and hugs Phillipe.

Extended ice scene my beloved:

(Note that in the script, Phillipe references his mother a bit more, so this revelation is an interesting insight into his psyche)

Your mother did not know you as I do. I love that. I could write a whole essay about that in itself. Probably my favorite line in the whole script.

The rest of the script follows the movie, with exceptions here and there. Navarre and Imperius get discovered by guards, which jumpstarts Navarre to head off after the Bishop sooner than the eclipse (which is also why Marquet is late to stopping him, they barely miss each other on their respective ways to and from the Bishop). The Bishop becomes a wolf in the end. Then the additional ending of Navarre and Isabeau riding into the sunset, and Phillipe stealing one of Navarre's sword gems cheekily and setting out into the world.

Some bonus funny things:

Imperius trying to explain what an eclipse is without knowing the proper words, while partially drunk. (Using food on the table to demonstrate):

This just reads as straight up comedy:

Their plan to trap him in a hole in the ground is insane and hilarious. As well as being revealed to have been ISABEAU'S IDEA.

The dynamic between the four of them is just unhinged and amazing and fun, and I wish we had gotten more screen time for it. Anyway, thanks for letting me rant! I will do it again

EDIT: ALSO HEY THE MOVIE IS FREE WITH ADS ON YOUTUBE

[sunnycanvas]

Hello^^ I have been following your blog for a while and like that you want to explore different concepts with Baldwin IV👑🩵

If you don’t mind, would you like to write either a short drabble or Hcs of Baldwin comforting his wife after a really difficult birth? Like, it all turned out okay, the wife is alive, albeit very exhausted, the Baby came out to be strong and healthy, etc. but it was a very risky and long labor, and the physicians weren’t sure if she and the child were going to make it yk? After all, giving birth was highly risky back then, with a much higher mortality rate.

Anyway, I hope you are having a great day and keep up the good work🥳🌈✨

Yelp! It went longer that I expected. Hopefully it lives upto mark. Thank you for your support and happy reading

It felt so peaceful. So dark. I was exhausted and felt solace in darkness. However in my deep slumber I heard a sound of weeping. Someone calling my name. Begging me to come back. "Your grace the queen is fine but really exhausted" "Please let her sleep" "She needs rest to regain strength" . I think I heard some shouts and I don't remember much after that except the fact that I tried opening my eyes but I felt so tired. When I was finally able to open my eyes. I felt my mouth open and chest sweaty huffing desperate to get fresh air. "When did this happen" I thought. It almost felt like a dream .My head was spinning. My throat felt dry. I tried moving a bit when I could feel sticky wet substance below my waist I tried moving my legs again but realised that I was too exhausted to do so . "What's happening" I thought again worried.

"My wife is finally awake, quickly get some water"

My husband took the glass of water from widwife. Baldwin IV made me sit upright as he quickly fed me water. Baldwin IV didn't realise in state of panic how fast he was being in feeding me water. I started coughing as result

"Easy love". He gently rubbed my back as he handed back glass of water to midwife. My husband started kissing me all over my face and then hugged me tightly.

"Darling, you made it" "I am really happy" "When I saw you laying down like that l" "I was so scared, I thought I will never see you again" I could feel my shoulder getting wet from his tears as Baldwin IV kissed my hair while speaking to me. I remembered that when I was going through difficult labour. Although the baby came out alive and strong they weren't sure I would make it. After hearing this I lost consciousness

Remembering about the baby I asked where is the baby right now. Baldwin IV replied that our child was fine and is currently with the midwife who was taking care of baby

"Moment I heard one of the midwife saying that perhaps you might not survive I grew anxious and prayed to God on my knees for some miracle"

I got really scared remembering the pain I had to bear while screaming in agony. I got really nervous realising how close I was knocking at death's door. My husband the king, Baldwin IV was able to comprehend my emotional state. Without hesitation he took off his white cloak and covered me in it. He hugged me again and started drawing circles on arm while singing a lullaby. It worked and I felt myself getting calmer. "My love I am here" "I'll be there to protect you, even if it's my own battle". Hearing this I immediately voiced my thoughts "It had been a tough experience" ."We will have more children I swear it, it would be better for everyone"

"Was that the reason why you decided to have a baby"

"......."

Baldwin IV understood the meaning behind my silence. Baldwin IV sat on the bed and said "Yes, it's true that I always wanted to have a family of my own but long before I accepted my fate as leper and decided to live my life in chasity" "I am willing to go back to same life" "I thank God every day that you came in my life perhaps God gave you difficult labour because I was being greedy"

"No, love". "The kingdom needs a heir" "And I will give birth to as many children as possible" Baldwin IV understood the pressure I felt as queen replied "I know my (Y/N)" "And if you feel you don't want to go through it again" "I would have no problem with that, I will happily except our child as first and last". Baldwin IV called one of his ministers and said "Tell the council that I will be taking rest, Raymond of Tripoli could rule in my place for the time being". I was about to protest but Baldwin IV put a finger against my lips shushing me. "You were left alone during your labour, but I won't be leaving you alone after I almost lost you" "Come now love, let's sleep together" "After that we will be taking a bath together and enjoy all the activities you prefer" "You need rest" "I will ensure you won't be going out of my sight for the time being". Baldwin IV got next to me and pulled me closer. "I can't sleep" I complained

"In that case I shall tell you stories of brave knights and kings". I smiled remembering Baldwin IV loved history and foundly I watched him and he excitedly recalled the history stories he learned.

[cyandreamzaceattorney]

✦ AA girls getting boba tea ✦

A few days ago I felt like drawing Ema, Kay, Maya and Franziska hanging out and drinking boba tea, cuz I really like the idea of these four having a friendship group :-D however, I unfortunately couldn't fit all four characters in so I (mostly) cut Franziska from the pic. Sorry Fran fans! I do love her but, I wanted to draw the other three girls a bit more (cuz that's just the mood I was in) and didn't want to stray away from this specific concept as I felt really inspired to draw them walking while chatting with boba tea.

Overall I do like how this picture came out, even if I definitely rushed it a bit (I think this was mostly because I got hyped over getting time to draw again, cuz I've been busy on and off). Unfortunately I lost my favourite brush liner before doing lineart on this and halfway threw my other liner magically dried up! So that was frustrating but, I worked around it and want to regain confidence in using fine liners so kind of a useful problem lol. I also decided to change up how I draw Kay in my art style a little and I think I like it :3 And, really like the outfits I gave the girls. Even if they are simple. They're also summer outfits because Australia is once again breaking the record for hottest summer (and it's still technically spring (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)). Fun fact, Ema is wearing a striped shirt as a reference to the stripe motifs in her aai design!

Now time for boba tea hc's cuz why not XD. Maya has a Taro milk tea with the regular black pearls, because it's purple and in my mind Taro and chocolate being her favourite flavours just makes sense. Kay has a iced tea with lychee jelly (mainly cuz I didn't feel like colouring the jelly but I see Kay liking lychee), idk what flavour her tea is, but it's probably a fruit flavour cuz in my experience ice teas are often fruit flavours. I also have the random hc that whenever Kay gets boba around Miles she gets a weird combo (e.g. chocolate milk tea with green apple pearls) just to see his upset reaction lol.

Ema and Franziska also have boba, you just can see it cuz Ema has them in a shopping bag which Kay is in front of. As for flavours, Ema's is definitely chocolate milk tea cuz her snacks in the English version of the games seem to be similar to tee vee snacks (idk if tee vee snacks are a thing in us, if they aren't they are small long cookies cotted in chocolate, kinda like pocky but much shorter, but thicker and fully coated) though I can also see her getting brown sugar with black pearls. Franziska I could see getting something like the regular tea flavour (which is called "Thai tea" or "original flavour" depending on the boba shop I go to) with no pearls or jelly because in my mind she doesn't like them :P, in general I don't think she'd like a lot of sweet flavours but that's because I hc her as not liking sweet food for no logical reason, my brain has simply decided this ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Hope you all enjoy this drawing and my super austic ramble about what boba tea I think these fictional characters drink XD

Next traditional drawing will be in a new sketcbook as I'm almost finished this one (and the last pages won't be as fanart so I won't post them here). I'm shocked cuz I haven't finished a sketchbook in less than a year for several years now! But this makes sense because I drew a lot this year for several reasons :-P

[french-unknown]

Hiii!!!

Can you please write something about a reader who wants to get self-improved?

What I am trying to say is, the reader is kinda of lazy and all they do is sleep, eat, and read. Neglecting studies and being unproductive.

But they want to change. They tried so many times, but they became their previous self again after 2 or 3 days.

Can you please write something like Law, Shanks, Mihawk, and Ace to help them to become their best self?

Like you know motivational and inspiring thing...

I don't know if you can understand this. English is not my mother language. So it's so hard to explain. Sorry about that.

Thank you so much for writing.

With lots of love...❤️❤️❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: law, shanks, mihawk, ace 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐀/𝐍: Hi! Thank you very much for appreciating what I wrote and don't worry about your request, I understood. I hope you will like it and have a nice day! (｡◝‿◜｡) 𝐖/𝐂: 1.2k +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ You had been locked in your room for several weeks and you didn't want to come out. You didn't want to see people. You didn't want to listen to them. You didn't want to talk to them.

✧ You just wanted to spend your days alone in your blankets reading quietly with Law visiting in the evening to sleep.

✧ Everyone outside, even your friends, bored you: their conversations didn't interest you and their reactions annoyed you. Besides, you didn't see what you could talk to them about and, even when you tried, you were cut off. this invisibilization irritated you so much that you ended up not saying a word, plunging yourself even deeper into your boredom, and no longer coming.

✧ You had tried several times to come back to them but your interactions turned on you more and more until the arrival of the Straw Hats who had finished isolating you for good.

Their captain who shouted everywhere and ruined your peace. Their swordsman who turned on his heel in the middle of your sentence when you tried to talk to him. Or their navigator who had cut you off to call out to Shachi who was passing behind you with his winnings from his bets with the crew.

✧ You hadn't left your room since.

✧ Law didn't see your isolation in a good light so, given that you were only reading and your reading stock was dwindling, he mentioned the very well-stocked library of the Straw Hats. Innocently, of course.

✧ He arranged for the Straw Hats to start a party before you could get out. Not wanting to get stuck in the hubbub on your way back to your room, you decided to stay reading in the Sunny Library until the crowd dispersed. Law sent Robin to the library to read her book.

✧ You came home the next morning to talk to Law about the archaeologist who was nice and whose invitation you thought you would accept to meet up to read together. He just calmy replied: “Cool” even though he was very satisfied inside to see you regaining confidence in socialization.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

✧ You didn't have the motivation to do anything to advance your goals. You always pushed everything aside with an "I'll do it later" to continue reading until you found yourself in the evening and said to yourself "It's too late to start, I'll do it tomorrow".

✧ It was like this every day.

✧ One morning, Shanks came into your room humming after you went back. He approached you under your suspicious gaze and took your book from your hands before going to the window and casually throwing your book into the water over his shoulder.

You could have ripped him alive just for that.

✧ However, he took out an old crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket with a quill already inked on it and wrote your objective in large letters at the top of the page. Then he spent the rest of the morning with you on the bed figuring out all the steps to take before reaching your goal. He embellished the page with little drawings here and there to make it more “cool”.

✧ He called himself "the Emperor of the to-do list" throughout.

✧ The next day, you did one of the tasks on the list because it didn't take much time / effort and you could do it from your bed. You simply checked it off and, when Shanks came back in the evening, you showed him.

✧ Every time you checked a box, he showered you with a shower of congratulations as well as special drinking parties to celebrate your accomplishment.

✧ The whole crew also ended up getting involved and they all encouraged you in their own way.

𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊

✧ He was genuinely starting to worry about you: you didn't want to go out anymore and it had been weeks since you had seen the light of day.

No matter what he does, you always return to your bed after stocking up on food in the middle of the night in the castle kitchen. You stay all day under your covers. You would refuse his invitations every time he offered to accompany him outside the castle or during his missions outside Kuraigana. You always justified that you were more comfortable in your bed and that you didn't see the point in going out.

✧ He ironically thought that he was the one called a vampire.

✧ Finally, he got fed up. He waited for you in the kitchen during the night and started talking to you for a long time. You find his behavior quite strange but you keep talking, hoping that he will make fewer remarks to you later about the fact that you always stay locked in your bedroom.

However, when you opened the door to your room to finally snuggle into your soft pillows and blankets, you noticed that your bed was gone. Your bed was missing. You tried all the rooms in the castle but all the beds had disappeared. As well as all the pillows and blankets. There were none left in the entire castle.

✧ He then guided you towards Hitsugibune where his usual seat had been replaced by your blankets and pillows. You were shocked while he gave you the choice between staying on the island and sleeping on the cold stone floor or boarding with him and sleeping in comfortable bedding.

After toying with the idea of sleeping on the cold castle floor just to annoy him, you finally agree to go on his boat.

✧ After a few weeks of traveling, you realize that getting out of bed was the best solution because your days were no longer an endless blur. They no longer paraded at full speed without your having the slightest memory of them.

𝐀𝐂𝐄

✧ You wanted to start sport but you couldn't stay regular.

✧ You could tell yourself all the benefits it would give you (post-session well-being with endorphins, being more active in everyday life, more energy etc.) but you couldn't do it. Even motivational phrases like “the hardest part is to begin!” only made you feel even more depressed when you found yourself hopelessly in sportswear in your bed.

✧ You motivated yourself to do a week then you missed a session because you had aches. And another because you were tired. Then another one because you were lazy and, at rhis point, it wouldn't make a difference.

And you always ended up stopping.

✧ But Ace wanted to help you so he offered to accompany him on his next mission. You never refused to spend more time with him so you agreed.

✧ However, this trip as a couple was very different from the previous ones where you made all your trips at sea with his striker and those on land with the island's transport.

✧ This time, you did everything by yourself.

You paddled on the Grand Line while Ace helped you while telling you about his fights with Sea Kings. You hiked from one town to another while arguing with your idiot lover who had forgotten to take money for transportation. You climbed mountains hand in hand with him as you chatted happily.

✧ Finally, you got a taste for these privileged private moments with your boyfriend. They provided you with enough physical exercises to satisfy you without constraining you and you no longer felt the duty to do these sessions alone.

Congratulations, you found my 3rd Easter Egg Here a ʚ 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 ɞ as a token of my admiration

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

[thatoneyappinggirl]

don’t smile because it happened baby, cry because it’s over

AN: baby’s first fic!!! once again i am absolutely not a writer, i just loved this idea and had to get it out of my system. written in lowercase and i hope my grammar is right but i haven’t taken a writing class in two years. feel free to reblog and leave comments, i hope you guys enjoy! <3

2.7k words!!

very heavily inspired & guided by the song don’t smile by sabrina carpenter, thanks girly !

warnings: ANGST!!! post-breakup!!! characters are drinking but everyone is 21+, 1 weed mention, canon-compliant (so far), both of them are bad at feelings, self destructive satoru, shoko and utahime are together but it’s not a big deal, suguru pls come home the kids miss you, you guys will get some answers in chapter 2, mentally and physically ill suguru, fluff through memories

————————————————————————

if satoru gojo’s stare could kill, suguru geto would be a dead man walking.

satoru sits silently in the corner of the party, the lively crowd and booming music filling his senses. across the room is his…whatever he was. he’s filled with dread from the sight of him, but also cannot seem to draw his eyes away from him and the blonde girl he seems to be too caught up in to notice satoru’s imaginary daggers.

now being juniors in college, shoko and utahime had a rental house that they often used to host house parties, and tonight was one of the more lively ones they’d thrown so far. people scattered across the main living space, some taking shots in the kitchen, others dancing to party music by the window, but satoru was stuck, sulking into the corner of the couch.

satoru is a notorious lightweight, it doesn’t take much for him to gain a buzz. so being two shots in while babysitting a cup of whatever poison-like punch shoko created, he is not thinking nearly as rationally as he normally does.

“careful,” nanami said while sitting down next to him, “if you stare any harder, your eyes are going to pop out”. satoru blinked, and felt a wince of pain from the dryness of his eyes. how long had he been in this staring? he took a quick side-glance at nanami and sighed, leaning back further into the couch, “i’m hopeless”. nanami smirked slightly “you are, but it’s okay”, he said while patting satorus knee and getting back up, as if he only sat with the intention to make fun of him.

satoru’s eyes are drawn back to the other side of the room, watching as suguru’s hands slide up and down the girl’s hips. he’s smiling gently at her, eyes somewhere in-between light affection and pure desire, and leans down to place a gentle kiss on the side of her head. it’s not long before their eyes meet again, and then their lips, and somehow the space is crowded with enough inebriated people that nobody else seems to notice the beginnings of suguru’s make-out session.

it makes satoru sick.

their relationship, while not a secret, was a slight mystery to those around them. they shared a friend group, and didn’t bother avoiding PDA in front of their friends, but it was never directly stated they were boyfriends. they already spent whole days together, which eventually became whole nights, and this went on for two and a half years. they weren’t defined as exclusive, but never felt the need to be, living comfortably in whatever state they were while not feeling threatened by others. or so satoru thought

recalling the memory of the night it all came to an end, satoru tried to regain his bearings. but after many moments of hard-core staring at an uninteresting mug on the coffee table, couldn’t keep himself together. he began to tear up, and his heightened emotions only became stronger as he felt more and more overwhelmed by the sensations of the party and the alcohol in his system. he felt overheated, his heart was racing, his six eyes couldn’t focus, and a headache began to form. he desperately needed quiet. climbing over the others on the couch and pushing through warm bodies, he found the stairs.

the upstairs area of the house was known to be off limits to everyone but close friends, it would be no issue with the girls to sneak up there for a little while. he was relieved to find their bedroom empty, hearing the noise of the party drift away as he shut the door. it still didn’t quite bring him the solace he was wanting though, so he took it even further and opened the bathroom door. leaving the lights off, locking the door, and slumping down on the floor, he could finally breathe again. his only regret was leaving his drink on the table, all he wants to do right now is forget.

he sits for a while, eventually thinking to check the time on his phone. 11:57 pm, what time did he come up here? he couldn’t tell you. he hears the main bedroom door open, and a pair of feet shuffling in with a light giggle. great, silence broken. satoru assumes it’s shoko and utahime and decides he should head out, he doesn’t want to put a damper on the night for his friends any longer. normally he is the instigator for the groups drunk shenanigans, but tonight has been sulky and in hiding, avoiding ruining a good night.

he stands on his feet, unlocking the door and pulling it open. however, the sight in front of him when he does makes him want to curl right back up into the dark room. suguru sits at shoko’s vanity, with a brunette girl pulled into his lap, definitely not the same one he was feeling up earlier. their faces smooshed together passionately, his hands moving from her waist down to over her ass. satoru feels stuck in the doorframe, his heart dropped into his stomach. suguru pauses without turning his head, “did you want to join in satoru, or are you just going to watch?” he asks.

satoru freezes, unsure of how to respond. they hadn’t spoken in months, and this is how he decides to restart? he isn’t sure what hits him first, the anger or the devastation, maybe both simultaneously or maybe they’re one and the same. suguru lifts his eyes to meet satoru’s in the vanity mirror on the desk with the an almost undetectable smirk, which causes satoru’s eyes to widen. he clenches his fist, and exits with a quiet yet aggressive “fuck you.” and slams the door behind him.

he stands there for a moment, more confused than anything. who was that? because that was not the suguru he knew. memories come flooding back to him, holding hands at the theatre, sharing a stolen blunt in their freshman dorm room, suguru on top of him with a movie forgotten in the background, stealing kisses when their friends were distracted, it’s all too much.

what happened to suguru?

satoru decides not to waste any more time, he needs to be drunk immediately. as he rushes down the stairs, his friends watch him rejoin the party. the first to speak is shoko, “go-joooo, where have you been? let’s take a shot, it’s happy hour!” she says while draping an arm around his shoulder, as much as she can at least considering their height difference. he looks down to meet her eyes, “i don’t want to talk about it, yes pour me a shot.” shoko gives him a look, but he doesn’t meet her eyes, pulling out his phone. he checks the time, it’s midnight now, and enough people have cleared out during his time upstairs to feel less overwhelmed.

he watches as shoko pours four vodka shots. satoru really doesn’t enjoy drinking this way, he prefers his sweet mixed drinks that he can take his time with, but at this point he can’t be bothered to wait any longer. he needs to forget. nanami, utahime, satoru, and shoko clink their shot glasses together, touch them to the counter, and then throw them back. nanami grimaces at the taste of the vodka, whiskey being his frequent drink of choice, and the girls are too buzzed to really mind the taste. satoru takes it with an almost straight face, before saying “let’s do another!”

“i’m good, i’m not looking to get wasted tonight.” nanami states before going to sit down on the couch. shoko follows him wordlessly, but utahime picks up the bottle to do another shot with satoru. she pours them and looks at him hesitantly, “this is your last one for the night, you’re going to kill me if you’re hungover tomorrow!” she says, jokingly but with a serious tone under it. “yeah yeah, let’s get on with it” is all he says, before they’re repeating their shot ritual. utahime seems to feel the burn in that shot far more than the one from a few minutes before, and leaves satoru to join her girlfriend on the couch. satoru wants to drink more, but he knows the numbness he’s looking for won’t hit him immediately, so he too follows his friends to the couch.

satoru decides to people-watch while listening to the girl’s conversation next to him, letting his eyes wander to the strangers filling the room. his distraction works until shoko asks “where’s geto? i don’t think i’ve seen him all night, but he said he was coming.”

satoru doesn’t even have time to think before his words slip out of his mouth, “upstairs with some girl, probably bending her over your vanity.” shoko turns her face to look at him, her eyes wide. this time he does meets her eyes, and with a rare serious expression. “what the fuck, are you serious?” utahime spits, getting up from the couch to run upstairs, shoko following behind. nanami sighs and stands “okay people parties over, take a taxi, call an uber, i don’t care just don’t be here anymore” he calls out to the rest of the guests, who now seem a little disgruntled, but nanami can’t be bothered.

as nanami helps filter people out of the house, satoru can hear utahime’s voice in the distance “are you kidding me? in my own room while gojo is sat downstairs? i don’t give a fuck that you’re our friend, he’s our friend too…and this is NOT what the upstairs area is for.”

satoru can hear suguru’s low voice but can’t make out his words, he gets up from the couch and walks back to the large array of alcohol, where he pours yet another shot. he can’t think anymore, about the joy or the pain that came along with suguru. he looks into the glass for a moment until he sees something in his peripheral, the girl who had been with him upstairs. she rushed past him towards the front door, adjusting her miniskirt further down and smoothing her messy hair.

he takes his fifth shot of the night, sits back in his original spot of the couch and waits with his hands in his lap and his shoulders slumped. maybe it was two minutes or ten, but eventually he spots suguru rushing down the stairs with utahime following right behind him. they make brief eye contact, enough that satoru almost missed it, until suguru was out of sight and the front door had opened and closed.

he can’t tell if it was seeing suguru leave again or the alcohol, but something shifted in him. he looks back down at the mug on the coffee table he saw earlier in the night, he couldn’t tell if he felt worse then or now. but what he did know is suddenly the tears he’d been holding back throughout the night, combined with the ones he never shed in front of their friends, came falling from his eyes uncontrollably.

every tear that he sheds feels like a memory he’d desperately held onto, now slipping away from him. the way suguru’s hair felt under his fingers as he smoothed it down, the smell of the strawberries they shared after a mission together, suguru’s dinner order from their favorite local restaurant, the heat of their cheeks after their first kiss. it stung, his chest feeling sharper the harder he cried. he barely processed the arms around him, pulling him into them. he didn’t even care who it was, it wasn’t who he wanted it to be.

does he miss me?

all satoru wished for was to forget, and now he was beginning to regret what he asked for.

i want him to miss me.

a bit later, he wakes up on the couch, alone but with an ever-present headache. he didnt even know he had fallen asleep, but his eyes and jaw feel sore, perhaps he had worn himself out over the crying. it looks like someone had taken care of him though, a blanket over him and his phone plugged in on the table next to him. however when he sits up, he struggles to stay upright.

satoru was still drunk.

he reached up to grab his phone and pull it off the cable, and opens his photo app. he tended to avoid it at times like this, but really could it get any worse? he begins to scroll backwards, noticing just how many pictures of suguru he actually had. them together, in groups, him alone, and satoru’s personal favorites, the ones he’d capture when suguru didn’t notice.

there’s this one of suguru asleep, his hair splayed out against the white sheets and his built muscle, his face relaxed as he laid curled into satoru. he always thought he looked so beautiful like this, when in la la land without feeling the pressure he always did in the real world.

suguru’s eyes carried a particular softness when he first woke up that always left him an hour into the day. satoru knew suguru struggled, consuming curses often took a large toll on him, and the remaining negativity that exists in them began to seep into his soul.

he recalls a memory of finding suguru curled up on the floor of their hotel bathroom after fighting a particularly difficult first-grade curse after he consumed it. his whole body shaking and covered in a layer of sweat, telling satoru not to touch him because he doesn’t know what he will do. he sits on the floor next to him, despite suguru’s shaky pleas as he insists him to leave. instead, he leans his head back against the wall behind him, and says “look…” as he sets his hand down onto the back of suguru’s head, “my six eyes don’t sense a threat, i couldn’t do this if you were going to hurt me, sugu.” suguru lifts his head up to meet satoru’s eyes, turning from afraid to deeply sad as satoru flashes a small smile at him.

he questions for the second time tonight,

what happened to suguru?

his eyes drift back to the picture of him sleeping, and suddenly satoru feels the need to word vomit. he never told their friends what happened between them, all they knew was things were tense and ended abruptly, and that satoru did NOT want to talk about it….

after months of holding it together and trying to keep it all in, he decides to let it out. satoru opens the voice memo app, and begins to speak.

the first 10 seconds are silent, until satoru draws a slightly shaky breath and begins

“i don’t really know where to start i just feel like i need to do this…” another few seconds pass, then once he opens his mouth, it seems he can’t stop. he rambles on, stumbling over his works and occasionally stuttering, some times having to stop completely to catch his breath and cry a little.

“i know i should be grateful for the time we spent together, but now all i can think about is how sad i am it’s gone” he says, sounding pathetic and broken. he records until he can’t get anything else out, and ends it. he lays on the couch and cries a little longer. what happened to them? what happened to him?

satoru knows better, but he can’t help himself when his thumbs move towards his contact list, pulling up suguru’s. he rubs his thumb up and down the side of his screen, the closest he’d come to replicating what it was like to do it to suguru’s face. he hovers over the call button until he’s startled by a noise from the stairs.

“you’re awake?” he hears before he sees who’s asking. he sits up slightly, his puffy eyes meeting shokos. “…yeah” he says quietly. “i thought maybe you’d stay passed out, i tucked you in pretty tight” she says with a slightly teasing tone while taking a seat at the end of the couch, resting a hand on his leg. satoru thinks it’s funny, but can’t express it, too far gone. he whimpers out a “thank you”, while turning his phone screen off and giving it to shoko.

“you want to call him, don’t you?”, she asks. shoko could always see through him, but he didn’t have the energy to talk about this now. “just take it please…” he says weakly. she pats him and stands back up, heading back upstairs with his phone in hand. in the distance he can hear her say “goodnight satoru”.

he turns onto his side, closing his eyes and thinking for the final time…

what happened to suguru?

[dancingtotuyo]

Before | 4. the wild has come for you

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Character death, gun/gunshot, descriptions of blood and gore

Note: no beta we die like Gabe in this chapter

Words: 1176

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Maria pants, hands on her knees watching as life twitches from the infected, blood pouring out on the white snow until he finally stops. She inhales deeply, regaining her composure. He came out of nowhere. Maybe he’s a straggler. She can only hope, but there are likely others around. 

Maria turns back around. “Gabe? Come on, we need to get moving.”

Gabe sits in the snow, back pressed to a tree. His gloves lay in the snow next to him. His eyes squeeze shut. 

“What are you doing? We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Maria.”

“What the fuck do you mean-“ She stops. 

His eyes open, usually light and teasing now swirling with a serious darkness, rattling Maria to her bones. She’s never seen that from him. He’s always happy, smiling, finding the light in the world, but not this time.

“Where?”

“Maria.”

“Where, Gabriel?”

He holds up his palm. “Got me right where the glove was worn through.” 

“Fuck.” She huffs spinning around. She can’t look at him, can’t focus, can’t be expected to do this. She takes a few steps away. 

“Maria.” 

She doesn’t respond. 

“Maria, where are you going? Get the fuck back here and finish it.”

“Will you shut the fuck up! I can’t think with you yelling like that.”

“There’s nothing to fucking think about!” 

He sounds angry. It sounds so wrong coming from him. Gabe doesn’t get angry. He’s the optimist in a hopeless world, but there’s no hope in this. There is no alternative outcome.

“I can’t shoot you, Gabe!” Maria yells back. Pressure builds behind her eyes. “I can’t do it.” her voice cracks. 

“You have to.” 

She knows he’s right. She thinks of you and the child growing in your womb, the happiness Gabe brings you. 

“Maria, you can’t think about her.”

“She’s my best friend!”

“She’s my wife! It’s my kid!” Tears leak out of his eyes, but he quickly wipes them away. “We don’t have a choice.” 

“I can’t make her a widow!”

“She already is one!”

It pulls the oxygen out of her lungs like she’s been kicked in the ribs. They stare at each other in silence. The wind stops whistling. The birds stop chirping. Nature has never been so quiet. 

Gabe checks his pistol, throwing it in the snow several feet away. He does the same with his hunting knife. “You’ll want these… and this.” He covers the bite with the sleeve of his shirt and peels off his coat so as not to get blood on it. 

Gabe pulls two photographs from his flannel pocket. A creased photo from before a family photo taken weeks before outbreak day. His thumb runs over it. He’ll see them soon. He believes that. Even now, he hears them calling his name. It threatens to pull him away, but his love for you wins the battle in this losing game. His other photo is a Polaroid from your wedding day. He memorizes your smile, and thinks about his last moments with you. He felt the baby kick this morning. His lips tick upward, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. That’s all he’ll ever get of the life you two built together. A light to leave behind, one he hopes shines bright enough to draw you out of darkness. 

“I’m sorry, Doleful.” He whispers, kissing your photo. 

Maria can barely bring herself to gather Gabe’s belongings. Her hands shake. She bares the weight of so much, but this might just be the heaviest. 

“Take care of her.” Gabe says. “She won’t let anyone else, you know. She has to take care of herself, especially right now. Don't let her be alone.”

Maria wipes her tears away. Her pistol is hot against her thigh. She manages a nod. 

“Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

She nods again. 

“I need to hear you say it, Maria.” Gabe doesn’t stop the tears as they slide down his cheeks. 

“Gabe,” she chokes out. 

“Please.”

She takes a steadying breath. He’s never seen Maria shaken like this. Maria can’t remember the last time she let her feelings come across her this physically. “I’ll make sure they both get through this. They won’t be alone. I promise.”

“Make sure she smiles and laughs. Don’t let her go back to what she used to be. She’s got such a beautiful smile…” Gabe smiles letting the memories flash behind his eyes. 

Maria nods, making sure the horses are secured. They’re trained not to run off at the sound of gunshots, but she can’t risk it. The end is so close. 

“Tell Tommy to keep teasing her. She acts like she hates it, but really she loves it. Reminds her of life before.”

Maria manages a smile, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Okay.”

“Tell her she’s gonna do great at this mom thing, 'cause she is.” Gabe takes a breath. He wants it to steady him, but it fails. He’s leaving behind so much. “Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I love her. I love her so much. She made my life so much better. Most importantly, tell her to live a life so full- it’s bursting at the seams.” 

“I will.” She swallows. The tears cascade down her cheeks as she pulls her pistol from the holster. It clicks. 

“We had a good run.” He looks up at her over the barrel. She falters. “It’s okay, Maria.” He nods until she nods along. He looks back down at the pictures in his hands. “I’m gonna be okay.”

It hangs in the air. He’s done talking. He’s said his final words. It’s up to her to make it quick. 

Maria closes her eyes. It has to be done. It’s her responsibility to Jackson, to keep people safe. Gabe wants you to be safe. Deep breaths in and out. Her eyes open. The bullet lands right between Gabe’s eyes. 

The shot rings in her ears the entire way back to Jackson. It’s a miracle no other infected come across her path. She’s a sitting duck, completely out of it. 

Tommy is waiting at the gate when she gets back. Everyone knows when they see the empty saddle. It’s dead silent as she enters back into the safety of Jackson’s tall walls. She hands the reins to Tommy. She sees is in his eyes too, the loss of a best friend, a brother. 

“Clinic or Home?”

He swallows. “Home.”

Maria nods moving in the direction of your home. People wave and say hello. She doesn’t respond or even process it. All she hears is the gunshot. Her vision is red with his blood on the snow, hazy with the smoke of his burning body. He couldn’t even have a proper burial. 

She lets herself into your house. She watches as your face falls, your legs crumple. Maria catches you holding you as you sob. She feels you slipping away and already, she’s broken her promise to Gabe. Maria’s not sure she’ll ever be able to bring you back.  

[klutzyroses]

Sorry to bother I adored your panuck attack headcanons and was wondering plesse van you do it for the other suitor as well ? 🙏 Thank you Have a wonderful day 😍

I wasn't entirely sure which suitors you wanted in particular so I picked 4. Have a wonderful day~

IkeVamp HCs: Panic Attack pt.2

Suitors: Arthur, Isaac, Comte, Vlad

Arthur

As frivolous as one may have the impression he is, when the time really calls for it, he will step up.

When the woman started to get anxious, he picked up on it immediately. Being as observant as he was, he noticed the telltale signs.

Jittery movements, agitated breathing, flushed face, all the signs of an incoming breakdown. The mystery author has had anxious patients before, it was nothing all that foreign to him.

Stopping a panic attack as it begins is no easy feat, so he knows its better to either prevent it, or do damage control.

He would gently guide her away and sit her on his lap, rubbing her arms as he whispered soothingly to her.

"Let's breathe luv. Deep breaths, there you go, my darling..."

He cupped her face and encouraged her to focus on him. When she calmed, he praised her and made sure she was alright, having her drink something warm and keeping an eye on her mood afterwards.

He would basically be the best comfort.

Isaac

Okay...he is a bit hopeless here at first...

He genuinely felt at a loss when she started to hyperventilate and quivering, behaving like a cornered animal ready to attack and defend herself.

To be honest, he had half the mind to find Napoleon, he always knew what to do but...

He couldn't allow another man to take care of his woman.

So, to the best of his ability, he tried to handle the situation himself. He took her to his room and sat alone with her, holding her hand. He hoped the quiet place would sooth her frayed nerves, drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

He kept this up until her hand tightened around his, indicating she was regaining her control.

"Are you...okay now?"

He hesitated to tell her that seeing her like that had been scary, he had thought for a moment she was having a heart attack.

From then on, he would be just a tad more wary about things that could frighten or unsettle her.

Comte

He had seen so many tragedies, disasters, horrors that had jaded him to that sort of anxiety, to the point he nearly forgets that his cherie was not quite of the same metal.

When she started to fall apart, he reacted immediately, taking her in his arms when her legs gave out, shielding her in his embrace.

He had her listen to his calming voice, tenderly brushing her hair from her face as he pressed his forehead to hers, bring one of her hands to his lips.

His eyes never left her teary, wide ones as his presence started to ease her anxiety. Her vulnerability both hurt and touched him at once, feeling a surge of protectiveness.

"Mon diamant, your tears make my heart ache, tell me what can I do for you?"

Once he had her breathing calmly, he asked her if she wanted to leave, quick to comply when she says she does, cradling her to him as he wrapped her in his coat. As soon as they were at home, he has Sebastian make her a relaxing tea.

He would not leave her side until he knew she was completely at ease again.

Vlad

If he were to be honest, he himself was no longer familiar with the concept of panic and anxiety. Perhaps, after living so long, through the things he had, he was numb to that sort of thing.

That didn't mean that he wasn't quick to react when his love started to succumb to fear.

Trembling, whimpering, labored breathing, erratic movement.

Behavior that reminded him that his beloved was just a human being. She seemed to fragile and breakable.

Leaning down to her, he brushes her forehead, using his abilities to fill her mind with pleasant sceneries, flowery meadows and mesmerizing lakes, anywhere to take her mind away from what so frayed her nerves.

When she was calmer, he pressed his lips on her forehead.

"I am here, my flower, don't be afraid."

He would shower her with love long after the attack passed, simply because he felt she needed that extra bit of doting.

🌸

[netegf]

violet chemistry (ii)

pairing: aged up!ao'nung x f!metkayina reader

plot: you and ao'nung attempt to regain control in your lives by fake-dating. the irony is… this is fated.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: the next instalment in my fake-dating!, friends to lovers!, best friend’s brother!au - once again, this takes place roughly 10 years after atwow - some pining + flirting, made-up rituals, attempts at comedy, & angst (WILL be resolved)! i really hope you enjoy part 2 🥹💖

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In all honesty, Ao’nung has been trying his hardest to avoid you. Only, that impulse is very quickly thwarted when he considers how many clan gatherings and rituals courting Na’vi couples attend together. Sitting before you and the azure clay bowl of paint you hold in your hand, for the first time in a long time, Ao’nung has a single thought. He really hadn’t thought this through.

“Stop moving.” You hum, brows pinched together in concentration as you swirl the coal-coloured paint with a brush much like the baleen of a whale’s mouth. Sitting with the feelings he’s been having, a part of him wonders what it might be like to be suspended in water and consumed entirely into the jaws of a sea beast. He listens almost immediately, then realizes that’s slightly out of character for him, resorting to a slight narrow of the eye that makes him look younger than he is.  

“You’re strangely quiet.” Your eyes bore holes into him, but he has a gift for escaping confrontation – staring somewhere off in the distance until his vision blurs.

Ao’nung hopes he looks nonchalant when he shrugs, but knows you. Knows that your keen. He doesn’t know how many times he’s come to communal dinner with a face he thought he’d fixed, but you'd been able to tell there was something off. A mediator of energy; you might as well have been able to smell it off him. But this wasn’t something he could let go of. He might’ve saved his favourite kills for you during the hunt in childhood, but this was profound. Pandora spins on a different axis. Everything looks like it’s in a different colour. How long had he loved his friend?

“Yeah.” He admits, chewing on his bottom lip. “Just worried you’re gonna, y’know… ruin my face for life?”

You roll your eyes with emphasis.

The ritual he refers to is one in which courting Metkayina couples draw facial tattoos for each other in paint, emulating what might one day be permanent. Unfortunately, Ao’nung has known you long enough to know that artistry has not been one of your most obvious gifts, and you pinch your eyes at him as the smug words leave his mouth.

“Shut up.” You hiss. “Or I’ll draw Lo’ak on your cheek.”

“Ambitious goal for an amateur.” He punches back, then nearly recoils.

Ao’nung can feel himself being mean – meaner than usual – and it casts a cloud of shame over him. He really thought he’d passed that point in his life where he masqueraded around his feelings and hacked them up alone until his throat bled. Childish, it felt. Something that gave him grief and gratitude – annoyed at his immaturity, but a strange sense of happiness at the fact that he could afford it. Still, you deserved better, and that pained him.

You grant him a small scoff then continue your ministrations.

Naturally, his eyes come to focus on your eyebrows knitted together, your tongue darting out of your mouth ever so slightly as the artistic vision you have in your mind comes to fruition, the subtle tremor of your careful hands. Instinctively, one of his hands comes up to stabilize yours, gripping the joint of your wrist.

Breath hitching just slightly, you quirk a brow. “You know… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you’re enjoying this.”

“Gotta get you to my mom.” He mumbles, hand dropping to his side like a dead fly. “Get your eyes checked.”

After a few more strokes of the brush, and a couple dozen eyerolls, the design is finished.

“Done.” You say happily, fingers holding Ao’nung’s chin as you admire your handy work.

The pattern isn’t particularly complex or striking, but it decorates the high points of his face, each dark shape a representation of his achievement and growth as a hunter, as future Olo'eyktan, and your favourite – boy that loves the water.

Ao’nung’s eyes widen when he takes in his reflection.

“It’s, uh… more subtle than I thought it would be.” He says finally, clearing his throat, heat colouring his cheeks a new kind of colour.

He had to admit, it was pretty. He must have imagined what this would feel like a thousand times in his life. That one day, he’d rise to his rank, wear his adornments, and feel completely different. Feel like he was worthy of his position in the clan. To his surprise, time moved fast, but he very rarely did. All Ao’nung felt over the years was a lot of sameness – but today, wearing your tattoos on his face, he felt a sense of pride pang in his chest. He looked the part, and maybe that meant something.

“Well, we can’t have the clan forgetting you’re handsome. However would they stand your prickly temperament?”

Ao’nung feels prepared to roll his eyes at the diss, but then he catches himself. Better yet, he catches you, saying something you hadn’t exactly meant to reveal, but knew to be true nonetheless. He looks at you cautiously.

“You think I’m handsome?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you contemplate for a moment. Was there really anything wrong with admitting it? Just about everyone on the reef thought so, he had to have known that.

“Everyone thinks you’re handsome, Ao.” You try to soothe over the slip-up. “People line up to see you when you come back from the hunt, I think someone fainted when you tamed tsurak, this information can’t be surpris-,”

“But you.” He says quickly, eyes excruciatingly earnest. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Yes…I do.”

Ao’nung supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, and yet he is. He wasn’t a stranger to be being praised for his looks, but this was uncharted territory – a line that had never been crossed, and maybe intentionally so. Since when did you think so? Since when did a compliment for him fall so easily off your pretty lips and tongue like you were the only one he was meant to receive such words from?

You must have noticed his slow blinks and slightly gaping mouth as he thinks through it all, because then you’re saying something that has him absolutely reeling.

“Eywa, if that blows your mind, how are you going to react to the fact that I had a crush on you half my life?”

There’s a hint of humour in your tone, but Ao’nung is having a hard time understanding why it’s so funny – eyes nearly bulging out and erratic breaths practically choking him.

“Had?” He stammers, past-tense poking a hole in his heart. “When?”

“When?” You snort. “Like, forever. Well, until I grew out of it.”

He must look insane, brain jumping from thought to thought, zoning in on words that illuminate a fire in his gut, and others that just as quickly put the fire out in a wade of water that he, for once, does not welcome. A revelation, and the revocation of it. A sparkling jewel in his palm mere seconds before it disintegrates, leaving no trace of what once was, as if it were merely a tantalizing mirage and nothing more.  

“When the Sully’s arrived?”

“Yup.” You say too casually for his liking, popping the ‘p’. “And before… and after.”

“But I was so mean.”

He bites his tongue almost bitterly, almost incredulous. He had admirers over the years, sure – but those were souls that knew him from great distance, and there was comfort in that. But you… you knew him. Not just the great triumphs, but the pitfalls which were equal in magnitude and not for the faint hearted. He had to admit, his concept of love was more superficial. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel it, at least not in the way his parents did – in his eyes, they got lucky, and his future partnership was bound to be more political than it was anything else. And maybe that was his crutch, the lack of feeling. Maybe that was the reason he’d never crossed this line, never entertained having you as his.

Because that would be all-consuming. That would be the truest thing he’d ever felt – really a fish out of water like everyone pegged him to be. Painfully new, and painfully beautiful, and completely unrecoverable if it ended up not working out.

Though at this moment, he hates himself for that careful distance between you – the way this is a wound you’ve presumably healed from, while he bleeds out right before your eyes.  

“What can I say?” You smile, teasing him in the way you do, the way he loves. “I like a challenge.”

“Right.” He manages, breath still shaky, but the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

The tide was changing and he needed to find a way to make it stop.

Apparently, his father was right. All those years spent build levees would finally coming to good use.

The night’s festivities are an especially generous feast and a series of dance rituals that you, while hesitant to admit it, know like the back of your hand.

Ao’nung sits with his father and other seasoned hunters in the clan, nodding absentmindedly to their spirited conversation about tracking game, which he admittedly knew very little about.

Really, he smiled when they smiled, stroked his chin when they seemed to debate something, and when he really hadn’t a clue what Tonowari was saying, gave a pretend laugh followed by a silent prayer to the great mother that he wasn’t being informed about someone’s death.

He had more important matters to mull over. Like you, sitting across the fire pit, engrossed in a conversation with his sister.

Entirely too receptive to his gaze, you momentarily stall from your speech to meet his eyes, lips curving into a small smile and hands giving a tentative wave. Ao’nung opts out of waving back but holds his piercing stare, convinced that the rounds of your eyes are more illuminating than the fire – and unlike its embers, your luminosity will stay.

“My son,” Tonowari’s voice booms over the overlapping chatter. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”  

Ao’nung nearly chokes, the tips of his ears turning an endearing shade of purple as he realizes he’s been gawking for far too long, and the last topic he recalls listening to was three conversations ago.

“I think, uh… everyone has made some important points.” He mumbles, while you and Tsireya snicker at him from across the fire.

Tonowari quirks an eyebrow at him, but luckily, chooses not to harp on it. He slaps a hand over Ao’nung’s back as if to excuse him from the conversation – not that he was contributing much anyways.

Ao’nung smiles gratefully and quickly makes his way over to you, scratching the back of his neck.

“Was that as embarrassing as I think it was?”

“Even more.” You laugh, scrunching your nose in a teasing kind of sympathy. “But it’s okay, we still love you.”

The ease to which the word ‘love’ falls out of your mouth makes him wince a little – this wasn’t the kind of love he’d found himself craving from you as of late, tossing and turning in his marui when he’s meant to be sleeping, very much aware that he’s awake behind those closed eyelids. He turns to Tsireya.

“Can I borrow her?” He asks as his sister’s eyes swell with intrigue. He feels the need to explain. “For a dance.”

Tsireya nods, a small smirk on her face before she dismisses herself.

“Duty calls?” You ask, shivering as his hands find their place on your hips, the pair of you slowly swaying back and forth to the beat of ceremonial drums. This is a practice for all courting Na’vi couples – they surround you at all sides, clumsily moving their bodies and giggling together, their love almost something physical in the air.

“Something like that.” He mumbles, eyes sheepishly raking over you. “You look nice.”

“I don’t have any extra food, Ao.”

“What? I don’t want your food.” He erupts. “I’m being serious.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, thanks. You look nice, too.”

Ao’nung’s ears perk up, toothy canines peeking out from under his lips in a sideways smile. He hopes the budding violet colour on your cheeks means what he thinks it does.

“So, what have you been up to?”

“Since I saw you this morning?” You repeat, eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yes. I mean, no.” He breathes shakily, rubbing his face in dismay. “Or, you know, in general.”

“Nothing too crazy.” You say softly, a certain lamenting in your voice. “I kind of live in a box, remember?”

Ao’nung nods. He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking for a moment, the heels of his feet burning as he tries to think up a way to make that sad look in your eye disappear.

“But I’m here.” He offers.

“Yeah. You’re here.”

The way your eyes soften as you say words has his heart soaring. He leans in a little closer, the rhythmic buzzing of the percussion reaching a peak. Your mouth parts slightly. It feels like it means something.

But you’re soon interrupted when the music stops and all the couples come to a halt, just the painful empty air of what could’ve been filling the space between you.

Ronal appears from just across the fire-pit as she pulls her son in for a conversation he’s sure he won’t listen to. He mouths a gentle ‘sorry’ before disappearing, leaving you with your thoughts and Tsireya, who takes a seat on the log next to you.

“You two look friendly. Or should I say, more than friendly?” Her grin looks like it could reach her ears it’s so wide.

“It’s pretend.” You remind her dejectedly. “Just because you and Lo’ak are going strong, doesn’t mean you can bring your loved-up vibes over here.”

Tsireya scrunches her nose in displeasure at the English word. It didn’t mean much when Lo’ak used it in conversation, and it didn’t mean much now.  

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but my brother pretends very poorly.”

Your gaze shifts to where Ao’nung is standing, eyes trained on his mother with a far-away look in his eyes – you have to force yourself to bite back a laugh.

“He doesn’t see me that way, Reya. He never has.” You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. “And besides, even if he did… I can’t be the mate he needs.”

“You love him, do you not?” She asks, clearly puzzled.

You look at Ao’nung again, now speaking in a small circle of Na’vi.

One member in particular makes your tender heart ache. A young Metkayina woman. She’s a skilled weaver and even better huntress. Beautiful, reliable, eager for leadership and responsibility. Not weighed down by strangeness. Not heavy with unbridled emotion. Strong and loving, in the way he needs – more palatable.

“Maybe love just isn’t enough sometimes.”

“Maybe,” Tsireya’s voice breaks through your spiral. “You are scared.”

Perhaps Tsireya has a point, or perhaps she doesn’t. Regardless, the constricting in your chest is hard to shake off. Even when she softly cups your cheek before walking away. Even when Ao’nung finds a way to escape whatever boring topic of discussion that has it’s claws digging into his sides, and his lips, yearning for yours, again. Small smile teasing at his mouth, he tugs at your hand.

“Hey, maybe we can get them to play a little more? Have another dance?”

“Ao… I think we need to stop. I-I don’t want to do this anymore.”

More than the words, it’s the pain in your eyes that punches him hard in the gut, leaving his lungs gasping for mouthfuls of air that don’t seem to dull the stinging. Your breaths do something similar, chest heaving, fighting every instinct in your body that tells you this is wrong because protecting him feels more important. It’s in that moment that Ao’nung realizes he doesn’t like comparing you to fire. It’s born to die. Warm and hungry, but it’s not for touching and it’s not forever.

His hand leaps forward to catch your shoulder, but you’re bolting before he can follow-through – fingers flinching back from the heat on your skin.

a/n: reblogs + tags are always appreciated 🪐🩷🫶🏼 i hope you enjoyed! how do we feel about part 3? 🤭

[cross-crye]

𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙

neuvillette x gn!reader

hurt/comfort

wc: 0.6 k

a/n: Fontaine brought me back from the dead and my new fictional bf saved me from the writing slump ive been in for months. So enjoy this hurt/comfort fic w Neuvillette. To be honest he may be a bit ooc but this is entirely self indulgent so it's fine.

!!! written at 3 am; spelling is questionable at best and some words should deffinetely not be in those sentences

For a few days now it had been drizzling in Fontaine. Anyone who had attempted to step outside their home would find themselves to be rained on ever so lightly by the suppposed tears trickling from the Hydro Dragon's heart. To some the scent of freshly fallen rain was comforting while others' mood had only been dampened by the uncooperative weather.

The Chief Justice of Fontaine was glancing at the rain outside from the window in his office. His view was ever so slighlty obscured by the tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Hisbittersweet moment of peacefull silence was interupted by the creak of his office door opening as his concerned lover stepped through.

"Oh mon beau... What has gotten you so down?" They asked in a sombre tone adressing the judge. Despite not seeing his damp cheeks due to his turned back they were certain of the state their lover was in.

"I simply missed you is all." Neuvillette responded, attempting to dismiss his beloved's worries. Upon hearing his repsonse their concern for the man grew tenfold. They slowly approached him, moving to stand in front of him, offering his hands a comforting squeeze.

"We both know thats not it Neuvi" they said hoping that the endearing nickname might help soothe him even a little. "You don't have to worry about burdening me with your thoughts. Please tell me what it is that truly saddens you so I can help." they continued.

Neuvillette hesitated to answer for a while, his expression betraying his inner turmoil. Eventually he decided to give in to his conflicting thoughts and confide in his love, after all he would trust them with anything. "The last trial I judged didn't qo quite as I expected it to…" he trailed off, still hesitating to look his partner in the eye. "A man had murdered his brother's wife in a jealous fit of rage. As the gruesome details of the case were revealed during the trial I couldn't help but think of what I'd do if something like this ever happened to you. I had previously thought I understood humans but I grow more and more unsure of that with every case. It's truly something to have to see people go against what I had previously thought to be human nature, becoming so overtaken by wrath that they do the unspeakable." Neuvillette said sadly. "Cases like this make me realise that I now have something to loose to the unreliable nature of humanity. You. Im not used to that, so when the thought becomes apparent again I… I don't know what to do about it. So I end up overtaken by emotions I don't truly understand, struggling to navigate my own thoughts and feelings." He finally declared dejectedly.

"Oh love… You worry far too much my dear. Now come here" They said as they moved to embrace Neuvillette. One hand was drawing patterns on his skin through the fabric of his clothes, the other softly carding through his hair as he wept silently into their shoulder all while maintaing their embrace. They'd lean down occasionally, leaving a kiss on his forehead or cheek soothing Neuvillette with affection.

The rain was letting up as Neuvillette calmed down, his thoughts regaining momentary stability. He lifted his face from his lover's damp shoulder as hands moving to trace his jawline. Those hands moved up his soft skin, moving to wipe the remaining tears from the corners of his eyes. Now that the Chief Justice was no longer leaning down, standing at full height his lover would lean up, slightly raising on their tip tops to kiss the tear tracks adorning his pale cheeks.

The two remained in Neuvillette's office in a comfortable silence, preffering to let their actions do the talking instead of words, showering each other in affection, love shining brightly in both their eyes.

cross-crye © 2023.

no reposting, stealing, copying or translating my works.

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated