#Just stop making them sad it hurts my soul

[easy-a-b10g]

THE GIRL WITH THE ENDEAVOR DOLL 

"Nova Kamiya, Izuku Midoriya, and Katsuki Bakugou all grew up together in the Shizuoka Prefecture, before Nova was born her mother moved to Japan from America after loosing her husband to a rouge villain attack making friends with Mitsuki and Inko during her stay, Nova grew up in japan alongside Kacchan and Izuku bonding more with the latter over their love of heros and missing quirks (and missing fathers lMAO) join this messy journey of love and soul searching between Nova and not just her childhood best friends but her future classmates aswell.  Stay tuned!!👀.  I'm trying to make it like A/B/O but I've never written for it so please be patient.😭

(A little on that a/b/o so your not confused in this story. In my a/b/o children can sorta be predestined to be alpha, beta, or Omega, like you can kinda tell by their pheromones and demures, or simply by their parents gender. It's kinda like the genetics of eyes if that makes any sense like how two blue eyed parents could have a blue eyed baby but if the parents of the blue eyed parents were all brown eyed parents they could have a baby with brown eyes or the baby could carry the gene of brown eyes. Like two Omegas male and female because I also believe that male and female Omegas can have children together as well as male and female alphas because you know male+ female =pup not necessarily Alpha+Omega=pup. So two Omegas have a baby and it could be an Omega but if their parents were all betas on both sides the baby could be a beta or carry beta genes???? Does that make any sense let me know )

Anyway Katsuki's parents are both alphas so he's an alpha Izuku's parents were both Omegas so he will be and Omega and Novas mom is an Omega and he father was an alpha and idk what I want her to be she probably going an Omega lol

   Feed back is greatly appreciated just please be nice. It's kinda proof read lol but not really. 

"Why are you being so mean?" Izukus voice trembled and whimperd with fear as he raised his fists in the air his distressed pheromones permitting the distance around them, "You're making her cry, Kacchan!  If you keep hurting her, uh ...I'll, uh... I'll stop you myself!"  These words tumbled from 4 year old Izuku Midoriyas lips as he stood at the end of Mesou Park, in front of his very best friend Nova Kamiya defending her from the bullies that decided to pick a fight with them.

  Nova was on the ground cradling her bruised arm, and her all time favorite Endeavor toy to her chest, trying to hold back tears and keep her sad smell to herself. She looked down at the doll which had been ripped in half, the stuffing was spilled all along the ground and even in her lap, with a trail leading to the other half of the doll which was left in the clutches of Katsuki Bakugou or Kacchan as Izuku and Nova liked to call him, he is the worst bully Nova has ever met. 

But first here's what happened.

Nova and Izuku had decided that bright Sunny Sunday morning that they were going to go down to Mesou Park and play heros together till super time.

Nova all but begged her mother everyday to see him since she couldn't last weekend, all because Izuku was at home sick with the flu, but her mother promised her as soon as he was better that they could play together again as much as she wanted but only until after Izuku got better.

She was so excited for this day, jumping with joy when seeing Izuku on the swing set at the end of the park waiting for her arrival. His favorite All Might figurine sat in his lap as he swayed with the wind on the rusty seat. 

 So you can imagine their dismay when halfway into playing Kacchan and his minions, Tsubasa and Tesaki or dumb and dumber as Nova like to call them, showed up to the park causing a ruckus and disturbing the other pups as they played. Nova told Izuku they weren't going to let them bother them today not like they did the last time and Izuku agreed with her and they continue to play without incident. 

 Up until Tsubasa had zeroed in on Izuku and Nova playing together by the swings and came over to spy on them from behind the giant tree near the swing set. That's when he overheard Izuku and Nova talking about All Mights Special combo moves and Endeavors furious flames before he decided that was all he needed to hear before he ran back to report his findings to Kacchan.

Izuku always chooses All Might when they played heros together always, just like she always chooses Endeavor. It's not like she likes him tho, no infact she thought he was a mean mean bully just like Kacchan and his friends, but his quirk stopped a lot of bad guys and in her book that was enough to make him a good hero despite his attitude. She also secretly really loved All Might just as much as Izuku did but she let him have All Might every time they played heros just to see him happy. 

Unfortunately for them Kacchan just happened to be one of THOSE moods today. "Are you guys seriously playing heros right now?" Nova and Izuku stopped playing and turn their heads to the voice addressing them. Tesaki and Tsubasa are seen snickering into their hands while they stand behind Kacchan who has his arms crossed with a smug smile on his face.

"Yeah so what?" Nova replies with a snark hands on her hips as she turns her nose up at him. "Well if your really a hero then how about you dodge this weakling!" He yells as he dashes for her, screaming she closes her eyes and braces for the impact of his push but it doesn't come, instead she feels a harsh tug on the doll in her hands. Her head snaps up immediately and she cries out for her special doll.

"Hey that's not yours!" Kacchan laughs at her waving the doll above her head once he was able to get it from her grasp. "Your a hero aren't you," he teased  "Don't heros share their toys? Hey guys catch!" he then throws the doll into the air over to his friends who then shove Nova into a involuntary game of monkey in the middle as she tries to rescue her stolen doll.

 With one final jump Nova finally claims the doll again but so has Kacchan and he's NOT letting go. "Let go of it Kacchan, give it back it not yous!" A tug of war begins between the two of them not lasting long before Nova could hear the tearing of the stitches as Kacchan continued to pull. "Wait Kacchan stop your going to-"

"RRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPP"

The doll comes apart at the seams splitting this way and that until the stuffing from the Endeavor doll comes spilling out around her and into the air like white dandelion ploofs, without warning Kacchan shoved Nova to the ground where she hit her elbow really hard against the metal bars of the swing set. That's when Nova finally let out a distressing smell, not a very strong one but one strong enough for Katsuki to wrinkle his nose at her in disgust. Izuku finally ran in front of her yelling at Kacchan and the others to stop their antics.

"Hmph. You both wanna pretend to be a heros?" Kacchan proceeds to blow up the half of the doll he managed to snag from Nova with a wide grin. The tears Nova tried so hard to hold back came spilling out. "Neither of you stand a chance at becoming REAL heros without a quirk not to mention your just going to turn out to be a bunch of weak Omegas so why bother." Laughing he and his friends finally jump Izuku and and Nova. Kacchan went for the other half of Novas doll, the others  went after Izuku kicking and shoving and hitting him calling him a Deku over and over again. 

Nova tried her best to protect her doll but unfortunately Kacchan was stronger than her. Kacchan snatched the other half of the doll right from her tiny hands and burnt it to a crisp. The ashes falling in Novas face slowly and silently much like her tears did. Kacchan and his friends laughed and taunted them both until they finally decided they were done torturing them and moved onto the next group of pups to mess with. 

Crying Nova moved to Izuku to make sure he was alright. Izuku was just lying there in the dirt looking up at the sky tears streaming down his face. Sniffling and wiping her own tears away Nova sat Izuku up and dusted off his clothes and hair and asked if he was ok. With a nod he started to cry harder, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to save your doll Nova, I'm so sorry." Pulling his hands to his face he started rubbing at his eyes, " It's not your fault zuku, Kacchans just a big ole bully whole likes to pick fights for no reason." Nova crossed her arms in anger. " Why does he have to be so mean just because he has a quirk does not make him any better than us!" She says with a huff grabbing a fist full of dirt and tossing it in anger. 

Here's the sad truth, all men are not created equal.

By the time they were both 4 years old, Nova and Izuku had learned that some kids have more power than others especially if you have the right secondary gender to back up that power. But that won't hold them back, if anything it pushes them to do even better. Being a hero is everything to Izuku and Nova. Despite not having their quirks yet they know they are going to be the fiercest heros around when they do get them! No matter how many people teased them for not having their quirks yet, they had each other to lift the other one up and encourage them to keep going and to keep believing that one day their quirks would finally show.

[theimaginatrix27]

Oops, I did it again

Sooo the reason I was looking up DS9 characters on the Star Trek wiki is that. I may have. Created another Six/Wild Swans AU.

For reference, since I'm tagging the relevant fandom and I've not mentioned some of these on here, I have currently got the following AUs of this fairy-tale/set of tales:

The Twelve Crowns Quartet (original setting, books 2-4 of currently planned series)

Wild Swans of Domino (Yu-Gi-Oh-based retelling, not linking because early chapters are under renovation)

Silence (original short story, set in modern era, a thing in my files that I'm tinkering with off and on)

The Spinner's Tale (tumblr-based retelling, as-yet unwritten)

Swans of Winterfell/Swans and Lions (ASOIAF retelling, currently on the backburner until I can think of a solid plot for it again that I'm confident enough to work on. Last one had many holes poked in it by well-meaning long-time fan).

Super Secret project for friend.

And now, one for the cast of Star Trek: Deep Space 9, with Garashir as the central ship because oh my stars these two are fucking made for each other, help, AO3 fic writers have me swooning over them and I want them to be happy damn it they needs fluffy happiness after everything!

I was reading DS9 fics over the weekend for reasons, and came across a lovely little fairy-tale-flavoured Garashir fic called Innate Conditions, which I loved on sight.

And I'd already been having thinky thoughts about fantasy/fairy-tale AU with the above favourite fairy tale as the framework, and so now I'm writing it, and I'm 2700 or so words into it, and I don't know when I'll deem it ready for posting but I do want to try and make this one short. Please Prophets help me make it short, it doesn't need to be more than 15-20k, don't let it get out-of-hand, don't give me too many worldbuilding details please...

No spoilers for the ending (which I do know obvs), but how I'm making it work is Julian's parents do a dirty deal to entrap Julian after he's run off to be an adventurer for years and his party has become like a family to him, and curse all Julian's companions into birds (several different types, there are only two swans and they're the only married couple). Parents claim the only way Julian can free his friends/found family is to submit to their wishes. Julian then receives a dream visitation informing him there is, in fact, another way. But it involves nettle shirts and silence.

I can be timey-wimey in a fantasy AU, so Garak doesn't show up until Julian needs somewhere to hide out under a false name stay while completing his task, and the tailor in this random town I haven't named just happens to live in convenient proximity to the ultra-painful nettle variant he needs.

Again, no spoilers for ending.

Still not quite sure the bird selections I've made for certain cast members are the ones I'm gonna stick with but I googled the national bird of Ireland and it's too small for my needs/wants. Don't wanna think too hard about changes though, because that way lies stalling and I don't want a story this short to stall.

[alphalesbian]

When I think of the ways people have hurt me - the ways people have gone out of their way to hurt me, the ways people have changed themselves to become hurtful to me, the ways people know my hurt and hurt me right there - I can only see now, how I will not hurt back the same.

[pholla-jm]

My Wife is Real

IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 

Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 

It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 

Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 

“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 

Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 

Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 

Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 

Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 

Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 

Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 

Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 

Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 

“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 

Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 

“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 

“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 

Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 

Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 

“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 

Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 

He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 

You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 

Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 

“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 

You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 

“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 

“Hello.” 

“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 

“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 

“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 

“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 

You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 

“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 

“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 

You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 

Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 

“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 

You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 

Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 8 (The End

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Irena told the shadows that she was finished. The service was over…and quite frankly…she was done for the day. Tired and sad and angry and a thousand other things. 

He came to get her in seconds, lifting her up silently, not saying a single thing.  

"Are you alright?" she asked Azriel softly. She could feel...something through that fledgling mating bond....something she couldn't quite place. He just nodded, mutely, and she took that to mean that he wasn't really fine.

"Mor apologised to me," he said softly.

"Well, that's..." Something, Irena supposed. Probably the least the Morrigan owed Azriel, but it was something.

"What did you say?" she asked curiously as Azriel carried her back to his room.

"That I need time," Azriel said simply. "I need time. They all apologised. But that doesn't just...erase years of hurt. It doesn't."

Irena nodded slowly, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. "No," she said quietly. "It doesn't." She could see the pain in his eyes, hear it in his voice. Decades of hurt, years and years of suffering, it couldn't just vanish after an apology.

She could only imagine the complexity of his feelings: anger, hurt and...a hint of hope.

They were all there, swirling together, warring against each other. 

He had loved Mor for centuries. He still loved her, even now. The thought pained Irena in a way she hadn't expected.

Irena knew that Azriel loved her. She didn’t doubt that for a second…but he’d loved Mor longer than he'd even known her. 

And she knew that…there was a part of his heart…that would probably always…always be for her…for the first female he had ever loved. For the female who had hurt him again and again.

But it wasn't a competition, Irena reminded herself. Azriel's love for Mor did not mean he didn't love her. It was not an either or thing. He could love them both, in different ways.

His arms squeezed her gently, pulling her closer to his broad chest.

"Whatever you are thinking, stop it," Azriel said with a sigh. "I love you. Mor isn't some kind of competition to you. You are my mate, the love of my existence. There is no competition."

Irena blinked, startled that he had seen straight through her. She ducked her head, unable to look at him. "I...I didn't-” she started, her voice strangled, but he didn't let her finish.

He stopped abruptly, adjusting his hold on her so she was facing him. Irena met his gaze, the intensity in his eyes stealing her breath away.

"You are my mate, Irena," Azriel repeated, his voice low and ragged. "You are my mate, the other half of my soul, given to me by the mother herself. There is no one who can replace you, no one who could even come close. Do you understand that?"

Irena stared at him, her heart fluttering at the ferocity in his voice. She nodded slowly. "I...I understand," she said, her voice a mere whisper.

Azriel's eyes bore into hers, as if he was trying to communicate the depth of his feelings without words. "Good," he said finally, his voice rough. "Because I don't want you to ever doubt that," he said, his words firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"I love you too," she told him softly.

That seemed to soothe something in Azriel, the tension leaving his body, his eyes softening. "You, me and the bed," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Sounds like the perfect end to an awful day."

"Bath," she corrected him softly. "You, me and the bath."

He stared at her wide-eyed.

"Bath?" he asked her softly.

"Bath," she agreed, biting her lip. "I just...I just want to feel you," she said softly. She just wanted…

Azriel's eyes darkened, understanding what she meant. He drew in a ragged breath, his arms tightening around her, holding her even closer to him.

"Alright," he said huskily. "Bath it is."

She should have known that even...even when she invited her mate to share a bath with her...he was a perfect gentleman. Averting his gaze as the shadows helped her sink into the bubbly concoction and then sliding behind her.

She maybe...maybe snuck a peek. Just one.

They weren't going to do anything...not that day...not with him still worried about her leg and after the day they both had...but just feeling his warm skin against her body...it was enough to make her forget...nearly everything else.

Azriel's large hands traced over her skin, his touch tender and gentle as he held her against him. The water was warm and soothing, and his bare skin against hers...it was intoxicating.

She could feel his muscles, the planes of his body, the warmth of his skin. It was enough to make her shiver, goose bumps rising on her flesh. And he seemed just as affected as her, his breathing ragged, his grip on her tight.

His lips ghosted over her shoulders, sending tingles through her body. She closed her eyes, arching her head back against him, her breath coming in shaky gasps.

His touch was light, yet firm, and oh so careful, as if he was scared to press too hard against her.

It was then she realised why he wasn't making any obvious moves to...continue their activities. He was being careful with her, worried about her leg.

She could feel the restraint in his every movement, in the way he held her. He was holding back, for her sake.

A rush of affection for him went through her, her throat constricting. She reached forwards, running her fingers over his hands, tracing the calloused, scarred flesh, before entwining her fingers with his.

She felt...safe. Secure. Cherished. Even more than before.

"You know the shadows never give me bubble baths," he said drily. Irena couldn't help but burst out in laughter. "I could get used to this."

"You are always welcome," she said softly.

"Good," he said huskily. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Because I am going to make a habit of joining you."

She shivered against him, his words sending a bolt of heat through her. "I..." she began, her voice catching in her throat. "I wouldn't complain."

Azriel hummed, his body pressing against hers, his hands moving on her skin. "Is that so?" he said in a low, velvety voice.

"No complaints," she managed to say, her voice shaky. "None at all."

Azriel's grip on her tightened, pulling her more closely to him, his lips gently nipping at her earlobe. "None?" he repeated, his voice a little hoarse.

Irena's breath hitched, her body pressed flush against his. "None," she managed to say, a slight, blissful gasp in her voice.

Azriel let out a soft, pleased rumble, the sound sending a shiver of heat through her. "Good," he said hoarsely, his lips trailing down her neck.

She drew in a shaky breath, her head lolling back against his shoulder, giving him better access to her skin.

He made the most of it, nipping and kissing at her neck, his lips and teeth exploring her soft skin.

She could feel his desire, the restraint in his every movement, and it made her body tingle.

It was a far cry from everything else she had ever experienced...and she loved every second of it.

Her blood was burning, a low heat pulsing deep within her every time his skin met hers. She could feel him, the planes of his body, his breath against her skin, his lips on her neck...and he was driving her mad in the best way possible.

"You are everything I ever wanted, " Irena said softly.

Azriel stilled for a moment, her words making his heart clench. "Am I?" he said, his voice low and rasping.

Then he nipped her shoulder gently, a possessive gesture. "You are everything I never dared to dream of," he murmured against her skin

[joonsytip]

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night  the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[moonstruckme]

hey lovely girl!!! i am formally requesting a james x depressed reader with lots of comfort if you’d like to write it!!! maybe reader is just like super overwhelmed by how sad and teary she feels and maybe a bit worried that james won’t get it but he’s so understanding and patient and kind and lots of comfort ensue, i feel like he’d be soo tender and gentle and when she’s crying just give the best hugs which i know we’ve discussed at length privately but it needs to be shared with the world

lots and lots of smooches,

rosa xxxx

Hi Rosa my love!! Thanks sm for your request, there's a bit of reader feeling guilty which I know we hadn't discussed but I hope doesn't hamper the experience for you

cw: talk of depression, self-loathing

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 780 words

You don’t know precisely how long ago you told James you were going to get ready for bed, but eventually he comes looking for you. He finds you drooped over the bathroom sink, a slow dribble of tears dripping from your nose. 

His arms are warm and solid as they come around your middle, squeezing just enough to let you know he’s there as he turns his head to kiss your face. 

“It’s okay,” James shushes you gently, warm nose to your warmer cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart.” 

He doesn’t sound surprised to have found you like this. He knows you’ve been hurting lately, though sometimes you hate that he does. You’re steeped in gloom, sad and guilty and at times scared that it’s never going away. Sometimes it all converges on you, like now, becomes something that feels too dense to carry. James wasn’t made to deal with your melancholy. His caring makes you feel worse. 

You punish yourself in small ways. Not allowing yourself chapstick even when your lips crack and bleed. Staying away from any foods you really want. Forcing yourself to sit in feelings of guilt and worthlessness long past when they become unbearable. You’re not sure to what extent James is aware of it, but he makes up for it as best he can. He’s doing it now, soft kisses mushed into your jaw, climbing up to your hairline. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. 

An especially gentle press of his lips to your temple. “Don’t say that.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not right now,” he says. “I didn’t mean…I just want you to know that you’ll be okay, you know? It’s going to be. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

You think he means to sleep, but when you get on the bed James works his arms around you, drawing you in close, holding you tight. You worry sometimes that he thinks you’re crazy or overreacting, but it’s hard to hold onto that belief when he touches you like this, like he knows all the contours of your soul even when it aches. He fits himself to them perfectly.

You press your face to his shoulder to feel the warmth of his skin on your cheek. Tears slip past your lashes, and James encourages you with soft sounds and kisses to the side of your neck and murmurs of I’ve got you. 

He’s receptive to your needs. When your crying wanes, he stops squeezing you quite so fiercely and starts sweeping his hand over your back in broad strokes. The press of his palm has a tranquilizing effect, and you melt against his front, exhausted. 

You don’t know what to say. Thank you feels too small, and sorry isn’t allowed, but James doesn’t seem to have any expectations from you. He keeps rubbing your back until you bring your hands to his shoulders, ready to sit up, and then he brushes the tears from your face with his thumbs.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells you. James has a sincere face. He means everything he says, and it’s easy to believe him when he looks at you like this, brimming with earnest conviction. 

You know he doesn’t mean it as a platitude, or that he’s going to somehow muscle his way through your feelings until you’re alright again, only as a simple reminder: You’ve done this before, and it’s hard, and it’s awful, but you’ve always come out of it. It’s never been forever. 

“Yeah,” you say. Your agreement sounds emptier than his promise did, but you know that when it comes to certainty James is more than willing to pick up your slack. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” 

James lets out an exasperated puff of air, though his kiss to your nose lets you know he’s not truly upset with you. “What did we say about sorry?” 

“It just slipped out.” 

He hums happily at the edge of humor in your dry tone. Encourages you back into his arms and lays down so you’re on top of his chest. “I’m tired, too. Do you think if we both think really hard about the same stuff, we’ll show up in each other’s dreams?” 

You ponder this, the ache in your chest ebbed for the moment. “Depends on what you believe about dreams.” 

“I think it’s worth a try.” 

James talks you all the way to sleep, his hand moving over the curve of your spine until you’re heavy atop him, deep breaths whistling in and out of you. In the morning, he’ll put your chapstick on for you in the bathroom and flirt with you until you tell him what you really want for breakfast.

[b14augrana]

Open Arms

Two players, one last name. Only one of you is suffering from the legacy attached to it

Alexia Putellas x sister!reader

masterlist

Warnings: angst and/or hurt + bit of an inconclusive ending lol not happy or sad kinda just… 🫠

A/N: more alexia angst in the place of aapa pt. 4! heavily inspired by open arms by sza, and i highly recommend that you listen to it because this will make a whole lot more sense if you do + it’s amazing. this song is so dear to my heart and honestly one of my favourites ever, so i had to write something inspired by it because the meaning is so deep and interpretable in many ways. this is just one of them :)

You thought that playing for Barcelona was your lifelong dream.

It was a picturesque scene; two players sharing the same last name stepping onto the pitch in the same jersey. It had been your dream at one point, until you realised the influence of your sister was leading you to believe that.

This set something off in you, like it triggered a chain reaction of thoughts and epiphanies that led up to the inevitable.

It was so hard to shine as your own individual self, when all you were credited for was the name on your back and the uncanny resemblance you had to Alexia. You were good, you were so good, but nobody ever noticed. You knew it would stay like this forever if you didn’t do something for yourself.

You could remember your hometown of Mollet de Vallès to be a place that was rife with FC Barcelona pride; it would’ve been the ultimate betrayal to your neighbourhood if you hadn’t elected to play for the club. It would be the ultimate betrayal to leave them, as well.

You were born and raised in Barcelona. The culture, the people, the club, all of it was surely intertwined into your soul. That wouldn’t stop you from running away from every bit of it and breaking out of the manacles this city held you in.

If it wasn’t for your sister and the fact that all your years spent at the club was deeply rooted in the love you had for her, you would’ve been gone ages ago.

At first, you thought you were just having one of those days when nothing felt like it was going your way, but the feelings persisted and you became more acutely aware of the real problem — you were staying for Alexia, and her feelings were beginning to come above your career and self-esteem.

You could only spend so much time in the dark before you started craving the light. Living in her shadow was simply not good enough. You had spent enough of your life feeling hopeless.

Being on the same team as her meant that the closest you’d ever get to being called good is comparisons to your sister. Alexia was La Reina. Alexia was everything. You? Well… you were barely anything if not Alexia’s little sister, the other less impressive Putellas.

Talks with your agent made the decision you had to make crystal clear; you could continue to be downplayed as long as you stay at Barcelona, or you could leave the club and feel what it’s like to be appreciated for the skill you possess instead of your relations to Alexia.

The hardest part of this entire thing? Telling her.

You could pack your things and book your plane tickets, call your agent and tell him to start negotiating with clubs, let the board know that you’re leaving for good and never turning back, but breaking the news to Alexia was easier said than done.

When you were in her kitchen one night, bearing a burden on your shoulders, you hesitated to speak. The knowledge of your career at Barça coming to an end after one more match was severing your tongue, preventing you from speaking, and eventually you’d cave beneath it and keep it all to yourself until Alexia found out in the worst way possible. The deal was done, you put pen to paper, and you were set to join Bayern Munich. All that was left to do was tell Alexia.

Bayern Munich, so far away from Barcelona, it was perfect. You could restart and build a name for yourself, completely separated from your family name. Even if Alexia did get angry, you would be in Germany within the next month (give or take a week), so what did it matter?

Part of you had faith that she’d understand, recognise your intentions and not take it to heart. The entirety of you hoped and prayed for that.

“Alexia,” you started, turning around in your seat at the dining table to look at her while she poured herself a glass of water. She hummed in response to you, as to indicate that she was listening.

“I’m leaving the club. I’ve signed it — the contract — and it’s done. I’m going to Bayern.”

She turned off the faucet suddenly, standing at the sink with her back to you. Her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly, and you could hear the deep breath she took.

“What?” she mumbled, turning around to look at you with eyes narrowed in disbelief. You glared at the table, nodding your head slightly.

“I’m going to Bayern,” you repeated, looking up to meet her now widened eyes as she placed her glass down. “I’m leaving Barça.”

She glanced at you, her eyes softening for a moment, and you could tell that she was barely registering the news.

“You can’t,” she responded, “Barça is your home, we belong here, both of us–”

There went any chances of her understanding you. That other part of you that knew she wouldn’t be rational about this, had been proven right. “You belong here, Alexia. I don’t,” you shot back, pointing at her with an almost accusing finger.

“What’s wrong with the club?” Alexia snapped. You glared at her, your angered façade crumbling away to reveal the true sadness that remained behind it.

“This club is your dream, (Y/N). I mean, I don’t get it,” she laughed, her expression seeping with disbelief, “You love it here, I love you here– don’t you remember? We used to talk about retiring here together, assisting each other and scoring from each other’s passes. Remember how you’ve always wanted to score a bicycle kick off one of my corners? Why do you want to leave, when we haven’t done all this, when there’s still so much for us to achieve?”

It wasn’t her fault that everyone kept you in the dark. Alexia would never want you at Barça if she knew this was going to happen. Still, you couldn’t cave now. There was no use in regretting anything, because it was done. Maybe if you had told her about your plans to leave, you would’ve felt this regret earlier, and things would’ve been different. Empty ‘what-ifs’ only reminded you that it was too late.

But still, her plea to make you stay was solely built on whatever regarded her. Not a single thing about what you wanted to do was taken into consideration.

“Tell me what made you want to leave, and I’ll make them change it. Just don’t ruin your career by leaving,” she continued.

“You know what?” you started, standing up so you were eye-to-eye with your sister, “I thought you out of all people would understand, but no. You’re selfish, Alexia. This is what’s best for me, I can’t stay here if I want to be any good!”

You were yelling, and you never liked to yell, but it felt like the only way to properly convey your feelings to the woman.

“I’m not even second best to you. Sometimes I feel like I’m only kept at this club to make you look good, and I am so, so sick of it. For years I’ve– I have no confidence left, no sense of pride in myself, I barely ever feel happy wearing this jersey because it’s always been your dream, not mine! I’m not the Putellas that belongs here, everyone knows that, so don’t try to make me stay because this is my only chance to be great. I want to be great, Alexia, and you should know better than anyone what it’s like to want that.”

It was only normal that you began to tear up amidst your words, and they trembled on your waterline as you spoke.

Alexia looked defeated.

More than anything, she felt unbridled amounts of guilt running rife through her. She wanted to reach out to you, hug you, tell you that everything would be alright and she never looked at you as a dim light that made hers look brighter, but she was glued to the spot, her muscles twitching and urging her to step forward with no avail.

“I love you, and I’ve stayed all this time for you. Honestly, I never even wanted to stay. You’re the only one that’s holding me down.” It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and in its place sat a mix of relief and guilt.

Alexia stayed silent, only a singular tear slipping down her cheek, the start of many that she would shed behind closed doors that night. It was more than just losing a teammate to her, and she wasn’t so emotional because her sister was leaving; it was the realisation that she didn’t know you very well in the first place, and the culpability of realising that she really had been holding you down.

That conversation was one of the last you had with Alexia in person. You played one last match for the Blaugrana, and then you left for Germany the following week.

Even weeks of knowing prior to your final match couldn’t soften the blow as Alexia stood on the pitch, clapping for you as you waved goodbye to the fans and teammates alike, tears brimming in your eyes that were akin to the ones rolling down her cheeks.

She walked up to you, and she embraced you like she never has before, like you were disappearing into nothingness instead of another country. You gripped her tightly, savouring the hug and trying to memorise the feeling, and when she pulled away, she had a pensive smile on her face.

“If you ever want to come back to me, I’ll always be right here with open arms. Cuídate, hermana.”

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . in which she finally feels heard, seen.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . angst, emotional breakdown (panic attack), swearing, mentions of scars (sh), mentions of suicidal ideologies. Nat being honest and open about her feelings for once. hurt/comfort.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. rainy days, match sad stories. venting.

divider credits: @saradika-graphics ༉‧₊˚.

the heaviness of the afternoon air settled over Natasha — weighting down what was already heavy. her mind, her body.. everything felt like a weight, a weight she carried since she was born, or even before her soul was incarnated in her body. she felt— no, she knew that she was born in bad news, cursed, and there was no way of getting out of this. it's funny, those were the exact same thoughts she had ever since she was a child— 10, 11, maybe? and in that age, crossed her mind that probably when she grew up, those ideas would vanish and she would be free to have a normal life.

but that certainly didn't happen. and now, she found herself trapped. trapped in web that the more she struggled, more stuck she got, and that was a routine that repeated over and over and over — optimistic, optimistic delusional thoughts that came to battle with the bad ones, telling her that things would someday be okay, and the real, coherent ones, that crushed all the hope, the little sparkle of hope she had within her, making her mind a complete and total mess. chaos behind chaos. sleepless nights, restless days.

god, how good would it be if at least, her body wasn't enchanted. how perfect would it be, to throw herself down a building and don't feel anymore, instead of having just a few scratches here and there. the blade helped, even with the acknowledge that a normal person would feel 10 times more than she did. because the pain was still little, when comparing to everything this woman already endured. the red lines on her arms and thighs were just a reminder of the red on her ledge, and that it was now impossible to wipe away.

in moments like those ones, her brain desperately searched for any solution, any thought to refute her current state — it was the human instinct to survive. (yeah, she's human). her eyes squeeze tight, feet stumbling forward and hands gripping tightly the trailer's window rail, knuckles turning white.

inhale, exhale. inhale— no, let's stick to panting.

her mind would drift back to the little girls who she shared her life with in the red room, remembering each of their personalities, what each one of them would do in a situation like this. ironically, for Natasha, they deserved to be listened and helped. but herself? nah. but in the deep end, she didn't know if they were still breathing, still in this world. what was the point..?

"come on..." she mutters, hissing loudly as her legs start trembling, knees ready to give up. "stop, stop, stop, stop..."

her heart never felt so filled with anguish and pain like right now — yes it did, but it was always like that: whenever that happened, the past experiences felt like they never existed — and the now felt like too much to handle. her ears buzzed, the sounds of the wind blowing across the tree leaves around her went down to volume zero — the hair on her legs and arms went up in a deep shiver, and eyes went wide — realization.

the same fucking realization as always. nobody listens, nobody cares. no one will ever know her true story. no one will ever fix her. she won't be remembered. her life's a waste— why was she even born, when everything that happened was disgrace after disgrace. that's when the thread snaps, and her body reacts before her mind can follow.

her throat closes, as if suffocating — body falling backwards, hitting the floor with full force. her fingers run through her hair and tug on the strands, pulling them strongly, even breaking a few of the auburn locks. tears of desperation threatens to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn't really realize that yet. she's just so out of air, that's impossible to control any other action.

"why won't that fucking—" Natasha manages between gasps. she groans, grabbing on the skin of her thighs and squeezing them harshly, creating moon-shaped little marks, enough to draw blood. "won't it— stop!"

then, she sobs. wait, but.. why did it felt like.. relief? perhaps because now, she was in your arms.

a foreign, strange sensation of warmth, warmth of another human being, enveloped her. she didn't recognize who it was, nor did she care. with pure instinct, her arms wrapped around the person's midsection, clinging for dear life. and now, with the sense of security, she was able to cry freely. she cried silently, something you didn't like. her chest heaved with emotion, but you wished she was louder. she was taught that widows didn't feel pain, wether it was physical or emotional. that's why her small cries sounded as painful and miserable as loud ones. you, sitting on the floor with her, scooped her weeping frame into your arms and held her — her side against your chest, head tucked in the crook of your neck.

sadly, it wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. you were always in the trailer with her when she had breakdowns like this one. and that was what broke you the most — her brain subconsciously would tell her she was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with intense feelings like those: thus, she didn't know how to ask for help, how to come to you so you both could prevent those mental draining episodes.

when you first met Natasha, the first thing she asked you was to forget that she was a deadly spy, an avenger, or whatever the hell else people knew her as. at least for a day, so you could see where things would go. this fact only, meant that since the beginning, she had a feeling about you.. one she couldn't quite put a finger on, but which made her want to be herself, with no masks or titles around you.

it was common sense everything she went through. but only you knew about her true point of view. when her own self felt like an outside observer regarding to her own life, you were always there to remind her of who she was.

"you're safe... you're safe, i am safe.. we're both safe.." you whisper, running your hand up and down her shivery arm, putting the cold away. "okay, Nat? you are safe. i am right here, ready to fight whatever evil that befalls you.''

"i don't know.. i-i just.. i'm exhausted... i'm s-so tired.." she manages between small cries, eyes pleadingly looking up into yours. her hand reaches out and intertwine her fingers with your own, grasping on every sense she had of your presence — because she knew it could fade again, that she could fall in the loop again. and it was torturous. "i never.. no one ever listened to me... i never.. told anyone.. about.. a-about..."

"i know." you nod, arms tightening around her. you crawl a little backwards, just so you could reach the blanket that laid upon the couch and grab it. you wrap it around her with one hand, not letting go of her own. she subconsciously brings the fluffy fabric closer to herself and snuggles up against your body. "but you can tell me. isn't it clear, malyshka? that you're stuck with me?"

malyshka. the endearment term in russian she had taught you. she loved it, so goddamn much. a little weak smile tugs on her lips, the kindness you were showing her easing the tension — as if you were offering to carry the weight with her. compassion, empathy. so foreign.

"i just.." she shakes her head, sniffling and taking a deep, shaky breath. she stays silent for a few minutes, and you wait. voice so quiet, small.. and scared. "before you.. no one ever.. held me. i never had anyone holding me. i never had a touch that didn't mean harm. never had anyone to listen."

"i know, Nat. and that pains me more than you think." you confirm, running your fingers through her hair, and nuzzling the side of your face against her cheek, resting on your shoulder. "but trust me, i will listen for hours, days, years and centuries. if you wanna share every single second of your life with me, i'm here to listen."

"that doesn't make any freaking sense to me." she chuckles humorlessly, a soft groan escaping her throat. she was feeling a little tired. "but.. the truth is.. few people understand what i went through. the little people who lived in the same circumstances as me are probably all dead.. and... i truly don't want you to understand. i don't want you to try and live the same horrors as i did. all i wish for..."

you take a moment to stare at her when she pauses. hurt arms, tear filled face. oh, what you wouldn't do to protect this heart. to keep it safe. never let anything harm it again.

"all i wish for, is for you to be here. to hold me like you're doing, to share your own experiences with me, to live with me. to whisper sweet nothings in my ear by the night. handle my body gently. just be here. be here and i know i'll be forever safe."

that was it. everything you ever wished for. you exhale deeply and shift her carefully, so she was on your lap. she looks down at you, and at your hand.. that slowly comes up to land on her cheek. she leans against it and breathes heavily. you smile, waiting for her next expected words.

"can i..." she clears her throat, hands shyly gripping your shoulders, eyes looking at you from below her eyelashes. "can i cry more?"

"of course." you cradle her again and settle her thighs around your hips. her arms wrap around your neck, and she gently leans her head on your shoulder... allowing herself to cry.. out of relief.

your right hand tenderly caresses her leg, tracing over the self indulged scars she had. the left one, makes slow, soothing circles on her spine, moving up, and down her back. she was letting all her emotions out, all the pain inside her heavy heart, was flowing out of her being. thanks to your patience, your gentleness, and your love.

turns out, love wasn't only for children. goodness gracious, how good it was to be loved...

"god," she sobs, squeezing you tighter, nose brushing against your hair as she allows herself to.. let go. "god, i need you."

"i'm here." you confirm quietly, looking up and kissing her temple. "i'm here, i'm not going anywhere."

[ryomens-vixen]

GrievingSukuna! HEADCANONS

Summary: You passed away from an incurable illness that plagued you almost your entire life, and even as his favorite concubine, his most cherished, hell his only one left since he had disposed of the rest. The one thing he liked, that her genuinely cherished was now withering away in his arms.

⚠Warning⚠ Minors dni, mentions of death, Sadness, idk what else to put.

GrievingSukuna! Who has never once said "I love you" to anyone not even you. The thought of those words ever leaving his lips made him want to gag except right those words meant everything.

GrievingSukuna! Who listened to your frail voice reassure him that your time spent with him was a joyous one, and that your were just another concubine, that he shouldn't mourn the life of someone who was merely brought to his temple over a year ago for his enjoyment alone.

GrievingSukuna! Who silenced you with the most tender, loving, heart stopping kiss to ever grace your soft yet dry lips as he just could not bare to hear another word. You chipped away of his walls, held his cold heart in your warm hand, and yet you had the nerve to utter nonsense? You had become his pride, the air he breathes, almost his wife, and possibly the barrer of his supposed heir.

GrievingSukuna! Who listened to you final goodbye to him after one last kiss to which he finally spoke those three words...

"Oh, Lord Ryomen, Serving you was..was the best thing that life could have ever given me. Every moment I spent serving you.. I spent without regret, my only regret now is being too weak to serve you any longer. What kind of concubine am I? Heh, forgive me..please forgive me, I- I-..."

You had spent all your energy speaking this blasphemy to him. If he could he would have scolded you right then and there, but there was no time that. All he could was catch your fallen hand that reached for him in an attempt to hold him one more time. You didn't have enough energy left to finish your sentence yet he finished it for you in those last moments he uttered for the first and final time.

"I Love You, (Y/N)... You foolish woman."

He said it, he finally said it, those words from him you would carry into the afterlife with you, A tear fell from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. But these words were only meant for your ears, not even his servant that stood outside his chambers could hear him whispering those three words into your delicate ears.

GrievingSukuna! Who's world came crashing down once your chest rose and fell taking your last breath. Oh the heinous things he would do, the sacrifices he would make, the blood he would give to just hear your sweet voice once more. This hurt him, this pain.. It petrified him, it was like no pain he had ever felt before.

GrievingSukuna! Who after hours of holding your cold corpse, finally allowed his servents to come in and ready you for burial. His face was unreadable to them, but on the inside he was ready to explode with rage, he was ready to curse the heavens and hell for taking what was his away.

GrievingSukuna! Who stayed locked away in his chambers for the next few days leading up to your burial. Oh how you wounded him worse than any man or woman ever could. This wound wasn't something he could just easily no, no, this wound would forever be etched into his mind, body, and soul for as long as he lived.

GrievingSukuna! Who's face remained unreadable during the ceremony, you had no family to join him, just his loyal servents who had grew quite fond of you once upon a time.

GrievingSukuna! Who quickly storm away once your casket was lowered into the ground, he felt his eyes were burning... What was this? Tears!? Never in the beginning of time would Sukuna ever shed a pathetic tear, but he heart could not deny the human emotions that came with once being human. He wouldn't dare let anyone see such an ugly sight, him experiencing sadness.

GrievingSukuna! Who's sadness was quickly replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, every village in 100...No a thousand mile radius was fucked. If he couldn't have the one thing he cherished more than anything in the world then why should everyone else?

GrievingSukuna! Who would go days without returning to his temple until he's had his fill of bloodshed, maybe this was his new found way of coping with the loss of his concubine?

GrievingSukuna! After days of slaughter he would return home to your grave absolutely drenched from head to toe in the blood of the innocent and lay at your grave.

GrievingSukuna! Who would stay at you grave for hours, cursing you to the heavens for leaving him in disarray, for not ripping his heart out his chest to take with you so he wouldn't have to FEEL this pain any longer.

GrievingSukuna! Who would soon slaughter all that were loyal to him as he would rather live in solitude, then to be reminded that he has no one to share the servitude of his people with. Sukuna would rather be alone than to enjoy the finer things without you by his side.

[ladydostoevsky]

Idk of request are still opens, but if no you can just ignore this haha.

Sooo can you do an escenario of hua cheng x male!reader x xie lian where the reader was the best friend of xie lian before xian le fell and like with the power of character backstory they knew hua cheng aswell.

That was like the context, but my request is like:

After the 800 years of previous events, xie lian, hua cheng and the reader meet again at the banyue arc(with xie lian meeting hua cheng fisrt ofc) and when they saw the reader (who ill suppose died by saving xie lian from something and u know, ✨️drama✨️) they can't belive it cus his soul should have been banished and welp. After the end of the thing (timeskip) when the reader tries to leave after helping em' with the mission, both xie lian and hua chen stop him from doing so. But why did M/N tried to leave as fast as possible? Hoho, well let's say he accidentaly inhaled a flowers scent wich had an strong afrodasic and didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of his dearest friends and tried to leave (failling miserably) and we all know both of our bois are so fricking touch starved at this point and here is where the smut makes it's presentation. (idk much about that so u can just wite it however you'd like, but reader should be the bottom oh yes hahah)

ik its a large request so if its too much just ignore me haha 😭.

A tender touch🌺

Xie Lian & Hua Cheng x m!reader

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, novel and donghua spoilers, little bit violence, breeding, m!sex

A/N: I’m not the best when it comes to smut, especially when it’s threesome so warning, this is really cringe🥲 but I hope you like it

The floor of the temple was icy, freezing, just like the atmosphere which surrounded them. Fear seeped through y/n, who was kneeling on the cold ground, before the altar of a temple on which Xie Lian was chained on. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of the creature, the monster with white half crying-smiling mask or this thing hurting Xie Lian - his prince, his best friend, his beloved. The latter. In his hand, was the little ghostfire who tried to keep them out of the temple and warn them. y/n felt pity for it.

He bowed down, his forehead touching the ground. ‘’Please. I beg you. Take me. Have mercy on His Highness. Whatever you plan to do, please take me instead of him.’’ y/n straightened himself a little and looked with teary eyes towards the white clothed creature, pleading, ‘’I beg you… punish me for whatever he has done,’’ he whispered desperately. ‘’Y/N! STOP IT! I FORBID YOU TO SAY ANOTHER WORD. YOU WILL NOT SACRIFICE YOURSELF FOR ME!’’ Xie Lian screamed. The creature laughed out loud, slowly moving towards yn, like a predator. ‘’DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM, YOU FUCKER. LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS.’’ The Crown Prince screamed but to no avail, the creature ignored him. y/n gulped as he got closer. ‘’My my, are you a brave one,’’ he stopped right in front of him and crouched down to be on the same eye level, the little ghost still in his hand, ‘’and so stupid. Willing to give your life for someone else's sins and choices.’’

y/n eyes widened slightly after the realization. He whispered to the mask in front of him, ‘’kill me instead then.’’ The little fire started to glow even more, little sounds coming from it. ‘’Oh I will. Let’s see what face His Highness will make after it.’’ The next second Fang Xin pierced through y/n.

y/n looked at the ground, in shame and sadness. He didn’t dare to look His Highness in the eyes, or even San Lang, who he knew was actually Hua Cheng. ‘’I don’t understand…how?’’ The Crown Prince was in shock, in disbelief. Xie Lian saw his best friend being killed in front of his eyes by White No-Face. Same as Xie Lian, Hua Cheng felt some kind of betrayal and hurt, he - being a little pitiful and weak ghostfire - also was in that temple and saw everything. If he really somehow survived, why didn’t he come looking for His Highness? It has been 800 years…

‘’Tell me, how are you here? What happened to you?’’ Xie Lian asked, his earlier shock turning into a sadness. y/n looked at San Lang then Xie Lian. ‘’Did you really think he would have let me die? That easily? My life was worse than hell, a constant torture after that night.’’ He looked away from them, towards the darkness of the cave. All hidden and locked up memories coming back to him. ‘’He did that only to torment and manipulate you. And me.’’ Xie Lian let out a sight he realized he was holding. Hua Cheng’s eyes were full of sorrow. They looked at each other then back to y/n.

He looked at Xie Lian, ‘’I’m sorry, Your Highness. After that, I didn’t dare to show my face anymore. Not like the monster would have let me. I was afraid. I hated myself for I couldn’t save you in the end. I blame myself till this day. You had to go through so much because I was too weak to protect you.’’ Hua Cheng’s dead heart warmed in that moment. After all, he felt the exact same way. He blamed himself for not protecting the two when they needed it the most. But he is here now, and he will protect them for eternity, from now on.

‘’Can you forgive me, Your Highness? I understand if you don’t want to or-’’ Xie Lian gave a sad smile and moved closer to y/n. ‘’There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. It was never your fault, it was White No-Face who did this. I just wish you hadn't been there. I’m sorry you had to go through this, because of me.’’ The prince leaned closer and hugged his former friend. It took the man by surprise but gladly accepted it. The warmth of his best friend being so foreign to him. He locked eyes with San Lang who looked at him with sadness. y/n gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, for which the Ghost King smiled back.

After that the three stuck together the whole mission. y/n and San Lang got to know each other more, surprisingly they clicked immediately. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian still didn’t know how y/n survived that night. He wasn’t a god, neither a ghost so what was he? But they understood that it was not their business if y/n didn’t want to tell them.

Currently, everyone was looking for the Banyue Fern to use as an antidote for the scorpion-tailed snake’s venom. Unfortunately, y/n had strayed too far from the others. He realized it when he found flowers that shouldn’t be growing in a desert. They were bright, colorful and smelled so nicely. They were tempting. They were so very familiar…

NO! The land of the tender! They were the tender flowers that contained strong aphrodisiacs. The moment he realized he backed off. Thank the heavens that these flowers didn’t speak or he would have surely done something he couldn’t even imagine. He ran back to the others, hoping that the aphrodisiac didn’t make it to his system.

After all the hell was over and the mission completed, Earth Master Ming Yi and Wind Master Shi Qingxuan came to take Pei Xiu back to heaven realm. The gods exchanged a few words. Beside Hua Cheng, y/n felt ill. His body temperature had risen after the tender flowers. He was sweating and his knees felt weak. He holds one hand in front of his lower face to hide his reddened face and to seal his mouth. Hua Cheng turned to him, concerned, ‘’y/n? Is everything alright? You seem… sick.’’ Only thing he could do was nod his head and turn away from him.

With every passing second he could feel more sweat forming on his skin, he wanted to let out sounds he thought he could never form. He felt a painful pulsing between his legs. Seeing Xie Lian and Hua Cheng next to him didn’t help, it made it all worse. Slowly, he started to back off but Hua Cheng grabbed his forearm before he could escape. Xie Lian walked over to them. ‘’y/n, what’s wrong?’’ He walked to him and put his palm on his forehead to feel his temperature. ‘’You are burning! You must have a fewer.’’ Feeling his prince’s touch he put his hand over his mouth even harder. He let out weird noises that neither of the two understood. y/n shook his head. ‘’Gege, we have to get him somewhere else. I don’t think it’s sickness.’’

The two brought y/n to an old empty house of Banyue. They put him on the floor, making him sit against a wall. Only sound that was heard was y/n’s constant breathing. With shaky hands he tried to open his robe. ‘’Y-you two… you h-have to leave.’’ Xie Lian was first to react. He crouched down in front of him, ‘’we will not. Tell us what happened?’’

He helped y/n and tore the robe’s front open so he could get some cold air. His fingers brushed against y/n’s hot skin which made him let out a little whine. Xie Lian’s breath stuck, but he didn’t back off. ‘’T-the flowers, t-tender…’’ the arousal he felt made it hard to talk. San Lang came next to Xie Lian and put his hand on y/n’s chest, feeling his fast heartbeat. y/n wrapped his fingers around San Lang’s wrist, not wanting him to pull away.

‘’That’s what I thought,’’ Hua Cheng whispered, mostly to himself. ‘’Please…’’ y/n’s other hand made it to his hard erection. His hand was quickly replaced with Xie Lian’s, ‘’you helped us today so well, it’s only fair if we help you now.’’ The prince and the Ghost King gave a knowing smile to each other. Hua Cheng tore the whole robe to shreds, freeing the whole body beneath it free to the cold air of Banyue. Xie Lian leaned in and kissed his old friend, his- no- their beloved.

His tongue taking the lead and exploring every corner he could find. His fingers ran delicately over y/n soft pink nipples. The man didn’t see the point to hold back anymore and let out all the sounds that were stuck in his throat. Hua Cheng also leaned closer and wrapped his fingers around y/n’s precum leaking cock. He slightly pressed on to the pink tip which made y/n whine against Xie Lian’s mouth.

‘’Don’t worry, love. We will take good care of you,’’ whispered Hua Cheng. Xie Lian leaned back, a string of saliva connecting the two. ‘’Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, y/n?’’ Xie Lian said while taking off his white robe. Hua Cheng followed and his red clothing was thrown somewhere he could care less. This time Xie Lian took y/n's pulsing cock and started slowly moving his hand up and down. San Lang latched his mouth onto y/n’s sensitive nipple, kissing and teasing it. y/n moaned their names, feeling himself nearing. ‘’X-Xie Lian…nghh San L-Lang, I’m g-gonna cum.’’ Xie Lian’s other hand played with y/n’s smooth hair, ’’cum for us, dear.’’ He came without a second thought.

The Crown Prince gave him a sweet, loving smile, pecked his darling’s soft lips and started moving towards his abdomen, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He took all of y/n in his mouth, swallowing his cum in the process. With his experience in sword swallowing in the past it wasn’t very hard. He had no gag reflex.

While Xie Lian was busy with y/n’s cock, San Lang used his own precum and saliva as a lube and smeared it on his own hard cock. y/n felt his second orgasm coming. In ecstasy he grabbed Xie Lian’s hair, not wanting him to pull away. ‘’Y-your Highness…mm,’’ The prince started to run his fingers gently across y/n’s body. Being so hot, bothered and sensitive, this act threw him over the edge again and he came deep into Xie Lian’s mouth. ‘’Xie Lian…’’ he breathed out a whisper, barely hearable. ‘’Such a good boy, aren’t you? So good for us,’’ Hua Cheng teased with his low voice. The man beneath let out a desperate whine, knowing what’s coming next. The black haired king leaned closer, giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead and lips. ‘’I’ll try to be gentle.’’ Xie Lian went to y/n’s neck and started to suck marks into his skin.

San Lang positioned himself in front of y/n’s unprepared entrance and slowly entered. Feeling soft and thigh walls around him he let out a grunt, entering inch by inch. y/n let out loud cries from the pain. Tears started to drip down from the corners of his eyes. Xie Lian shushed him, assuring that everything was alright. He kissed the tears away and started to abuse his mouth with his tongue again. When Hua Cheng was finally all in, and confirmed that y/n wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, he started moving his hips. At the beginning it was slow and gentle, as time went by he started to speed up. Rocking in and out like an animal in heat.

He pulled y/n’s legs more towards him to hit that one spot that surely made his darling lose it. y/n grabbed onto Xie Lian to steady himself. ‘’Gods y/n…’’ San Lang moaned, feeling his peak coming. He pressed y/n into a mating position, to look him into his beautiful tear stained eyes while he cums deep into his gore. y/n screamed, feeling overstimulated. ‘’S-San L-Lang… p-please,’’ with a few more pumps he came inside.

After a few moments he pulled out, panting. Feeling himself coming down from his high. He watched how some of his seed tried to come out of y/n. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, smiling, feeling some kind of pride. ‘’You are so beautiful like this. Now my beloved…’’ Xie Lian moved away from his side and placed himself on top of y/n. He already knew that it was going to be a long night.

[aeralux]

"Pretty When You Cry" - Jacaerys Velaryon

Modern!Jace x Girlfriend!Reader

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

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

Words: 9.7k

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

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded silently, still looking through your closet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

[doritochoi]

Ex-Husband Encounter | C.S

pairing: fem!reader x ex-husband!san

genre: smut

warning: public sex, unprotected sex, sexual tension, blowjob, hard fuck, eating cum? ( kinda idk)

word count: 3,7k

tags: @roguehongsami ( you can message me if you want to me tagged in my post!)

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you walk into his office and see the shocking scene before you. "S-san?" you manage to stutter, feeling a sharp pain shoot through your chest. Your husband, with whom you dreamed of spending the rest of your life in happiness, is sitting on a chair, and one of his employees is sitting on his lap, kissing him with a passion that takes your breath away. You are destroyed. You just wanted to be a good wife, bring him lunch like every day, and now you feel like everything is falling apart around you. Your lunch tray dropped on the floor, the plates are broken into a thousand pieces, the crumbs are scattered on the floor, but to you it is only a mute decoration in front of your pain. Inside, a storm of feelings floods your mind and soul - sadness, anger, helplessness. You can't take your eyes off them, the image that tears your heart to pieces. You feel betrayed, abandoned, and at the same time you are tormented by questions that hurt more than anything else. Why? How could you not see? You try to keep your composure, not to collapse in front of them, but you feel tears fill your eyes and your voice is choked with pain. You immediately walk out the door, heartbroken, getting into the car not caring if he calls you. You need distance, space, time to collect your thoughts and understand what you are going to do. You're too hurt to go back, too confused to listen to excuses or explanations. All you want now is to run away from the unbearable pain.

You arrived home sad and angry. Even if you didn't want to do that, you couldn't stay with San anymore. You wanted to wait for him to come home, to discuss, to solve what happened, but your mind stopped thinking. So you went to your shared bedroom. When you got there, you sat on the bed and started to cry, not knowing what to do. The tears flowed even more, making your eyes red and swollen. Looking up, you saw on a small table next to the bed a picture of you and San from the wedding. Looking at the photo, you felt memories begin to flood your mind. The moment was captured into your memory, and every detail came alive again in front of your eyes. You saw San's smile again, the tenderness in his gestures, and you went back in time, reliving the moments of happiness you spent together. The picture was one of your favorites, San holding you by your tiny waist, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. While you stared at the photo, a surge of rage and betrayal washed over you. In a fit of anger, you grabbed it and threw it to the ground, listening to the sound of it shattering into pieces. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the broken fragments, feeling a bitter satisfaction in the act. It was a release, a way to express the pain and anger consuming you. You packed your bags, not caring whether San would see all your belongings gathered when he came. You blocked him everywhere so he couldn't find you, and you left, tears streaming down your face as you looked back at the house where you two had shared happy moments.

It has been four years since that incident, and you haven't heard from San since. In truth, you hear about him almost every day, as he is now the richest man around with countless business ventures. He's everywhere, but you’ve tried to ignore everything that happened to avoid feeling lonely. Your best friend, Nayeon, has been a rock, helping you get through it all. She has always been by your side, and with her support, you have become a fairly popular model after a long period of healing and rebuilding your life. You’ve graced the covers of several fashion magazines, walked on runways in major fashion capitals like Paris and Milan, and built a strong social media presence. Your style is admired, your confidence radiates through every photoshoot, and your fanbase grows daily. Today was an important day. You were walking the runway in Sardinia, Italy for the Dolce & Gabbana fashion show. It was a beautiful, long-awaited dream come true. Nayeon was there beside you, helping you into your dress. It was a stunning black gown with a daring cutout at the back, accentuating your figure perfectly. The dress was exquisite, made of the finest silk that flowed gracefully with every movement. The cutout at the back revealed just enough skin to be alluring without being too revealing, perfectly balancing between chic and sensual. As Nayeon adjusted the final touches, she smiled at you, her eyes filled with pride and excitement. "You look breathtaking," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. You turned to look at her, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I couldn't have done any of this without you, Nayeon. Thank you for always being there.", she squeezed your hand gently. "That's what best friends are for. Now go out there and show them what you're made of."

As you stepped onto the runway, the lights blazed down, illuminating the room and the captivated audience. The black gown flowed elegantly with every step you took, the back cutout adding a touch of allure that drew gasps of admiration from the crowd. While you walked, a figure in the audience caught your eye. Instantly, the smile on your face vanished as you saw your ex-husband San in the crowd. He wore an exceptional white suit, making him easy to recognize, almost glowing amidst the sea of spectators. His hair was perfectly styled, and his piercing gaze, those fox-like eyes, made you freeze. He looked directly at you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You tried to maintain your composure, reminding yourself to focus on the walk. Every step felt heavier, the weight of his presence pressing down on you. "Keep it together," you whispered to yourself. "Just a few more steps." San's gaze never wavered, his expression unreadable, and it took all your strength to pretend you hadn't noticed him. You felt a swirl of emotions—anger, hurt, confusion—threatening to break through your composed exterior. But this was your moment, and you were determined not to let his presence overshadow it.

Finally reaching the end of the runway, you posed, turning with practiced grace, and began your walk back. You kept your chin up, eyes forward, channeling every ounce of professionalism. Nayeon's encouraging smile flashed in your mind, giving you the final push you needed to finish the show with the same elegance and confidence with which you had started. Backstage, as the applause echoed from the runway, you took a deep breath, your heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. Nayeon rushed to your side, sensing something was off. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched in her features. "I... I saw San," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? Where?" "In the audience," you said, glancing back towards the runway. "He was watching me the whole time." You tried to discreetly wipe away your tears, not wanting everyone to see you cry. After a while, when everything had finally wrapped up, you and the team started preparing for the after-party to celebrate the successful show. Your mind wasn't fully present; you were acutely aware that San would be there. You all headed to the most luxurious and opulent restaurant nearby, a sight of pure elegance and sophistication. The exterior was adorned with intricate architecture, lit by soft, ambient lighting that gave it a warm, inviting glow. As you stepped inside, a gracious hostess greeted you, leading your group to a large, round table elegantly set for the occasion. The table was adorned with elegant place settings, sparkling crystal glasses, and a centerpiece of fresh flowers that added a touch of natural beauty to the luxurious setting. Despite the stunning surroundings, your thoughts remained clouded. You tried to engage in the celebration, but the anticipation of seeing San again kept you on edge. The laughter and conversations of your colleagues seemed distant, almost as if they were happening in another world. You noticed that right next to you was the only empty seat at the table, and your eyes were immediately drawn to a prominent name card that read "Choi San". Your heart skipped a beat, realizing the possibility of sitting right next to him. Taking a deep breath, a mix of anticipation washed over you. Was it mere coincidence or a subtle intention from the hosts? As you carefully placed your clutch on the seat, you felt the curious glances from other guests intensify, adding to the pressure of the moment. You took another deep breath, the air thick with anticipation, and when you opened your eyes, there it was—a hand you recognized instantly by its touch, its grip, adorned with rings that spoke of refinement. San had just settled into the seat next to you. He exuded an intoxicating scent, and as he leaned in slightly, you noticed the impeccable tailoring of his suit, revealing a hint of his well-toned chest underneath. "Apologies for being late," he murmured with a respectful nod, his smile bringing back every memory you had of him.

Throughout the dinner, tension built between you and San. You felt his gaze on you constantly, and every accidental touch sent a shiver down your spine. It became overwhelming, and you knew you needed a moment to collect yourself. "Excuse me," you said, standing abruptly. All eyes turned to you as you walked away from the table, your cheeks burning. You hurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and taking a deep breath. You splashed water on your face, trying to calm your racing heart. After a few moments, you felt composed enough to return to the table. Just as you opened the door, you walked straight into a solid chest. You looked up, knowing instantly who it was. San. You froze, your eyes meeting his stunning gaze. You wanted to move, to walk away, but his hand caught yours, pulling you back. "San, I need to go," you whispered, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he gently pushed you against the wall, his body close to yours, creating an electrifying closeness. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice low and filled with need. His eyes burned into yours, and you felt the tension between you. Your breath hitched as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. His hand moved to your waist, holding you firmly in place. You could feel the heat radiating from him, making your pulse quicken. Your gaze remains fixed downward, avoiding his mesmerizing eyes, But San cups your chin with his hand, gently lifting your face to meet his intense stare. "What do you want?" you ask, your voice trembling. His eyes burn into yours, filled with a mix of desire and determination. As you try to pull away, his grip tightens, holding you in place. "Stop struggling. I'm not letting you go," he says, his voice low and husky, filled with a dangerous edge that sends a shiver down your spine. "What do you want from me?" you ask, your voice a whisper, laden with both fear and excitement.

Without another word, San pushes you back into the bathroom, the door closing with a decisive click behind you. Your back hits the cool tile wall, the contrast with his heated body making you gasp. His hands are on you again, sliding down your arms, gripping your waist, pressing you firmly against the wall. "I want you," he growls, his voice rough with need. "Every inch of you." San's lips crash against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. He kisses you fiercely, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roam your body. His touch is demanding, possessive, and it ignites a fire inside you that you've tried to suppress for so long. He moves his mouth to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin, leaving visible marks. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your dress. "God, I've missed these," he growls, his voice thick with desire. You can feel his cock pressing against you, hard and insistent. He pulls the dress down, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His mouth descends, sucking on your nipple while his hand kneads the other, making you moan with pleasure. "San," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devours you. "Don't stop." He bites down gently on your nipple, making you cry out. "I won't," he promises, his voice a low growl. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak before sucking it into his mouth. His free hand moves down, lifting your dress higher until it's bunched around your waist. He slips his fingers under your panties, finding you wet and ready for him. "Fuck, you're so wet for me," he groans, sliding a finger inside you and making you arch against him. "Please," you beg, needing more. San grins against your skin, adding another finger and thrusting them in and out of you. His thumb circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "You like that, baby?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Yes," you moan, your hips moving against his hand. "More, San, please." He withdraws his fingers, leaving you aching and desperate for him. He grabs your hips, lifting you up and pressing you against the wall. "I need to be inside you," he says, his voice rough with need.

You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. He pushes inside you in one hard thrust, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, and you cry out, clutching at his shoulders as he begins to move. San fucks you with a desperate intensity, each thrust harder than the last. His hands grip your ass, pulling you closer as he drives into you. "God, you feel so good," he groans, his pace relentless. You can barely breathe, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. "San, I'm gonna—" , "Come for me," he demands, his voice harsh and urgent. The words push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that leaves you trembling. San follows moments later, his release spilling inside you as he groans your name.

For a moment, the world stops, the only sound your ragged breaths mingling together. San lowers you back to the ground, his arms still wrapped around you as you both come down from the high. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are filled with a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper. "This isn't over," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I meant what I said. I want you. Every inch of you." You nod, your heart still racing. "We'll see," you whisper, knowing that despite everything, a part of you wants him just as much. San’s eyes darken with a renewed hunger, and he gives you a wicked grin. “On your knees, now,” he commands, his voice low and authoritative. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine as you drop to your knees in front of him. His erection is right in front of your face, and you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks down at you. You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, feeling its heat and hardness. You begin by kissing the tip, your tongue darting out to taste him. San inhales sharply, his hands tangling in your hair as you take him into your mouth. “Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, his grip tightening as you start to move. You take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in tandem to pleasure him. You hollow your cheeks, creating a suction that makes him curse under his breath. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you bob your head up and down his length. San’s breathing becomes ragged, his hips thrusting slightly as he struggles to control himself. “You’re so good at this,” he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. You look up at him through your lashes, meeting his intense gaze as you take him even deeper, pushing yourself to your limits. The sounds he makes, the way he tenses under your touch, spur you on. You increase your pace, taking him in as far as you can before pulling back and swirling your tongue around the head. “Just like that,” he moans, his eyes closing briefly as he loses himself in the sensation. You can feel him getting closer, his body tensing, his grip on your hair almost painful. With one last, deep thrust, he comes, his release filling your mouth. You swallow it all, not letting a drop escape, your eyes locked on his as he rides out his orgasm. When he finally opens his eyes, there’s a look of deep satisfaction mixed with something more. He pulls you up to your feet, kissing you hard, tasting himself on your lips. “Love, I missed you,” he whispers against your mouth, his hands still holding you close. You can’t deny the electric connection between you, the intense chemistry that still burns so bright. “I missed you too,”.

You both quickly dress, but as you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize just how disheveled you are. Your hair is a mess, your clothes are wrinkled, and your makeup is smudged. San doesn't look much better; his suit is rumpled, and his hair is tousled in a way that screams what you've just done. As you step out of the bathroom, the hallway feels like it's a mile long. Just as you turn the corner, you run straight into Nayeon. Her eyes widen as she takes in your appearance, then flicks over to San. The realization dawns on her face, and she crosses her arms, looking between the two of you with an incredulous expression. “Really? Here? Now?” Nayeon exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. You blush furiously, trying to smooth down your dress. “It just… happened,” you mumble, avoiding her piercing gaze. San, trying to regain his composure, clears his throat. “Nayeon, it’s not what it looks like,” he starts, but Nayeon cuts him off with a sharp look. “Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” she snaps, her eyes narrowing at San before turning back to you. “And you? After everything, you just let this happen?” You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of her disappointment. “It’s complicated, Nayeon. We were just talking and then…” Nayeon throws her hands up in the air, clearly frustrated. “Talking? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like you two were just talking.” San steps forward, his expression earnest. “Look, I know it looks bad, but this is between me and her. We need to figure this out ourselves.” Nayeon’s eyes soften slightly, but she still looks skeptical. “Fine. But you,” she points at you, “better think long and hard about what you’re doing. And you,” she turns to San, “don’t you dare hurt her again.” San nods solemnly. “I won’t,” he promises, his voice firm. Nayeon shakes her head, sighing deeply. “I hope not, for both your sakes.” She turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you standing there with San, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. You know Nayeon is right; there are a lot of things to consider, and this isn’t something that can be resolved easily. San looks at you, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and determination. “We’ll figure this out,” he says softly. You nod, but inside, you’re not so sure. There’s a lot to unpack, a lot to discuss, and it’s going to take time. But for now, all you can do is take it one step at a time.

[acoazlove]

Spiralling Inside

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Spiralling into your head is damaging, and there’s only one person who can help you.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

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Loneliness isn’t a feeling the soul is supposed to feel, to experience.

It’s isolating, whether it's self-inflicted or out of one's control, it can break you. It feels like no one can save you from that feeling. How do you know that someone will help you out of the feeling, and stop you from spiralling all over again?

You don’t know. That’s the scary part, you’re supposed to have faith. Trust wholeheartedly in someone that they won't make you feel like that ever again.

The kind of trust you’re supposed to have with yourself. So what happens when you can’t even trust your own brain from thinking of all the worst scenarios? Make you think that everyone hates you. That you’re not worthy of loving friendships. You are not good enough. They are only around you because they pity you.

They hate me. A common thought for an overthinker, a hurt person. No one wants those words swirling around their head.

Even while talking one-on-one with someone, a friend, it feels as if your mind is making you feel like they are only interacting with you because they feel bad for you. Like they know how lonely you are.

A larger event is even worse because you are alone. Everyone has someone to talk to, to be with. Someone to call their own. You don’t.

The same people who call you family are the ones who seem to forget you’re standing beside them, because ‘you are so quiet.’ Why say something if it doesn't add to the current topic? So you keep quiet, keep to yourself.

Not one person notices when you spiral when you get so deep in your mind that you can’t claw your way out. Can’t silence those voices. Except for one person.

Azriel. Your person. Your other half. Your mate. And while standing in the middle of the Night Court’s ballroom, with your family, talking to each other, he notices.

You suppose that’s one of the upsides to him being the spymaster. He notices you. He sees you.

“Angel?” His soft voice reaches your ears before he appears in front of you. Blocking your view of the rest of the world. So it's just him.

A scarred but gentle hand reaches for yours, subtly pulling out of the crowded room. You only notice you have moved when a cooling breeze brushing your face. Azriel’s hands are on you next, cupping your face so gently that an on-looker might think he is holding the most precious jewels.

“My love?” You finally meet his gaze, his swirling jade and amber eyes. Holding his emotions out on a silver platter for you. Only for you.

He watches your brows pinching, silver lining your eyes, features twisting in guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry.” The defeat in your voice physically pains him. His features softening, thumbs swiping the tears that fall unwanted.

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for.” The conviction in his dulcet voice helps to slowly pull you from your self-deprecating shell. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace, his other hand moves to the back of your head, cradling you to the crook of his neck, smothering you in his scent. Your arms wrap around him quickly, so tight as if you’re worried he’d disappear. And based on where your thoughts are right now, your mind thinks he very well might.

The scent that helps ground you. A fact you had told him early on in your relationship, even before you mated. A fact he kept in the very forefront of his mind for moments exactly like these.

Deep breaths tickle his throat. Breathe in as much of him as you can. If only you could fuse with him. You wouldn’t ever have to be away from him.

A calloused hand runs through your hair soothingly. His other hand rubbed up and down your back, in the way he found helped calm you the most. Pressing featherlight kisses to your forehead and temple. Whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

“What happened, angel?” Feeling the rumble of his words as he speaks, vibrating into your own form. You shrug in response. “Just got in my head.” Words muffled against his neck.

You pull away from his neck, a huff leaving you at how much of your hair is in your face from the movement. A watery laugh leaves you as Azriel tries to push it out of your face. A loving smile tugs at his lips at the endearing sound.

Once it's out of the way, you look up at your mate through wet lashes. Your cheeks flushed and tear-stained. “There she is.” His voice is so adoring it makes your heart skip a beat. His hazel gaze searches your face, looking for what, you don’t know.

“I’m fine, Az. I just-“A heavy sigh leaves you as you try to verbalise your thoughts. “I just started thinking too much when they turned away from me, which I know sounds self-conceited and narcissistic but-“ your rambling gets cut off by Azriel’s mouth meeting yours. Releasing a contented sigh as you sink into the kiss. So full of love and feelings that can’t be put into words.

He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your face once again. “I know you, my love. You are the most selfless, intelligent, and kindhearted person I have ever met. And yes your brain works against you sometimes, but that does not make you self-conceited or narcissistic. You cannot beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” He presses a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose. “They all love you. Don’t let your mind tell you otherwise. They are around you because they want to be.”

You feel your bottom lip tremble under the weight of his words. “I love you. More than anything, more than what should be possible. You’re my mate.” A kiss to your forehead “My other half.” Another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I love you, my angel.” A lingering kiss to your lips.

Your hands slide up his arms to rest on top of his wrists. Only pulling away when air is needed. Turning your head to brush a kiss to the palm of his hand. Pulling his hand from your face to thread your own with them.

”I love you with my whole being Azriel. More than you’ll ever know.” Voice raspy from your tears, but so sincere a smile pulls at his lips. Pressing one more kiss to the crown of your head before taking a single step back to get a proper look at you.

”Do you want to go back in there, or go home?” Tone still gentle. A small shake of your head. “We should go back in.” He nods, moving to step back towards the ballroom. But a tug of his hand stops him, immediately looking for something wrong in your expression, but a smirk tugs at your lips. “How does my makeup look?”

A snort leaves him, and he brushes a thumb under your eye before leaning back dramatically to get a better view, a giggle leaving you at the movement, a boyish grin taking over his face at the sound. “Looks perfect. Just like you, my love.” Wrapping an arm around your waist, leading you towards where you left the rest of your family.

As they come back in view, smiles light up their faces, but your focus is pulled back up to the male at your side. He smiles down at you as Mor and Feyre start gossiping about something they had heard from one of the courtiers.

Leaning into your mate's warmth as you listen to their rambling. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you have Azriel by your side.

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a/n: I know this isn't part five for a new place, but I've personally been over thinking quite a lot recently, and once i started writing this it just kept flowing. so this is dedicated to all my overthinkers. hoped you enjoyed <3

[avocado-writing]

7 anon here! Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to gn s/o trying to comfort them awkwardly? Like asking if they should stay with them & leave to give space? If they should talk, just listen, or keep quiet?

Astarion

Oh, you are just as awkward as he is, and he loves it.

It’s so endearing, the way you try to pick the right words and keep failing. It’s a bit entertaining to see you squirm.

But you’re trying and it’s more than anyone has ever done for him before, honestly.

He wraps you in his arms and holds you close. Whispers in your ear a thank-you for caring. Feels his soul soften when you tell him he’s worth the world to you.

Gale

He’s exceptionally erudite most of the time, and so are you - that is why he’s so taken aback when you struggle for words.

You search the rich well of your eloquence for something to say and come up short. Instead you just pat him on the shoulder… and he bursts out laughing.

He apologises; he didn’t mean to be unkind, he just wasn’t expecting that reaction. In fact it’s enough to lift the mood and get him smiling again.

Wyll

Sees that you’re struggling with the best way to offer comfort, and instead just reaches out to take your hand.

He presses his lips to your knuckles so that you can feel when he talks.

“Knowing that you are here is enough to help, my heart.”

He feels you relax, letting go of the worry while stepping into his arms.

Halsin

You try to make awkward, comforting smalltalk with him, but a heavy hand on your knee silences you.

“It is enough that you are with me. Let us just… be together.”

So you are, sitting quietly side by side, enjoying the view of the flowers he’s sought out.

The simple act of you being next to him is a salve to his hurt.

Haarlep

The incubus is prone to flights of fancy. Melodrama comes with the territory. You’re lucky that, when he’s upset, it isn’t for long.

It’s so obvious how awkward you are. He laughs in your face at it. When you harrumph he turns playful again, wrapping you in his arms and tail and pressing his face into you.

“Oh, darling, I was only playing. Come now, let’s stop being sad and move onto better things…”

Dammon

Really tries to not show how upset he is in front of you, ever.

Prides himself on being strong! It wouldn’t do for you to see him crack and falter.

He can see what anguish you’re in trying to comfort him and never quite finding the right words. It makes him feel better, somehow? Like you should both be more open to showing these parts of yourselves.

The sincerity behind your awkward affection is enough to make him joyful again.

Rolan

Is probably a little gremlin about it, let’s be honest.

“I thought the hero of Baldur’s Gate was meant to be good at these sorts of things…”

”Well I thought the wizard of this tower would be adroit at social situations, but clearly I was a fool…!”

And then you’re back to bickering. It’s nice. It’s familiar. And you’re both happy.

Zevlor

It pains him to see you so uncomfortable.

He takes you in his arms, holds you close. Face pressed into the crook of your shoulder.

“My love, you should be the one leaning on me. I’m sorry to make you fret.”

You reassure him he has no reason to apologise to you, and just hold him until things feel better - which, eventually, they do. Your hug is a cure.

[childrenofcain-if]

ENOUGH WITH THOSE TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS (C AND D), I WANT MY SAD LITTLE MEOW MEOW TO HAVE SOME SPOTLIGHT TOO 🤩 GIVE US SOMETHING WHOLESOME FOR W

(I was sold the second they showed up in a Leon Kennedy costume 🥴)

you were sitting across from W on their bed; camera equipments, scripts, piles of books and notebooks with creased covers and fraying edges surrounding the bedroom. W had taken to picking at the threads of their sweater’s sleeves, their fingers moving as if on autopilot, focused on you but never meeting your eyes for too long. they seemed to vibrate with some constant, buzzing energy; as if they were always on the edge of fleeing, some part of them always afraid that if they stayed still for too long, you’d deem them a weirdo and never even come near them again.

but that was just W, wasn’t it? this perpetual stillness tangled with nervous energy, like a candle whose flame kept shifting in the draft. they were here with you, yet part of them never fully settled, never quite willing to let the fear drop. you wondered if anyone else would’ve noticed the subtleties in W’s tension, the small way their shoulders lifted with every breath, or the way their fingers twisted in the fabric of their own sweater until their knuckles turned as white as their bones.

they’d made an awkward joke about their suitemate’s sleeping habits and you laughed, even though it wasn’t really that funny. to many people, the sound may not be particularly remarkable. to W, it was thunder and music, the thing that called them back from the dark, the thing they had been chasing since you two were children.

W’s feelings for you were a slow-burn disaster, a shipwreck that had been happening for years, filling up their life inch by inch. they thought about it sometimes like it was an oil spill, like they’d let it overflow so many times that now there wasn’t a place left in the ocean that wouldn’t catch fire if somebody struck a match.

they couldn’t pinpoint exactly when they’d decided they loved you; it felt like one day they just looked at you, and it was there, woven into the intricacies of their soul before there was even a possibility of your existence. loving you was as natural as breathing, as irreversible as rain hitting the ground.

you were now talking about something—a memory, something you’d done last winter, maybe—and W nodded along, but their mind drifted to how you looked under that sunlight filtering through their canary yellow blinds. it cast you in softened shadows and highlights, picking out every contour of your face and making you look like heaven’s teardrop.

you were lovely in a way that hurt to look at. W never said it, but they thought it a lot: that you were beautiful in a way that was calm and quiet and fierce all at once, like moonlight on water or fireflies in the middle of july.

it struck them sometimes, like a hammer to their ribs, that they’d been in love with you for most of their life. and how foolish it was, really, to be so irrevocably caught up in someone else amongst the innocence of their youth. but W had grown up with nothing they’d dared love—at least, not out loud.

their parents had taught them that love was a trap, that care was a weakness, and even as a kid, they’d been wary of wanting anything too much. of course, not that it stopped their heart from experiencing that want, that need.

your presence beside them always felt surreal though, like it was something that should have only ever existed in a dream. and yet, here you were, next to them, every slight brush of your skin a shock against their nerves. it was so light, yet for W, each touch, each accidental graze of your arm against theirs, was like lightning in the form of wistful wisteria petals.

they wanted to reach for you. they wanted to bridge that space, fold into you like they had as a kid, when it was easier to say “i’m scared” and let you chase away the dark. when it was okay to lean on someone and just be.

but things were different now. W wasn’t a kid anymore. and the years had left scars on them, scars they were unsure if you could even see. you hadn’t been there for the worst of it—those hollow, hungry days where they’d gone without sleep, without food, when they’d let their body waste away because somehow they thought it might make them someone worthy to be sticking around for.

feeling unlovable, feeling like they had to be smaller, quieter, like they had to take up less space just to avoid being left alone all over again.

they looked down at their hands, the bony angles of their fingers, the thinness that never seemed to go away, no matter how much they tried to pretend they were fine. they knew what they looked like—what they had done to themself, without ever really meaning to... what they continued to do to themself while meaning to.

but you were here now, and that was enough, wasn’t it? somehow, it felt like it might be.

the conversation lulled, and there was a warmth to the silence, like the sun spilling in through the window was made just for the two of you. W took a breath, carefully, as if they were holding something delicate in their hands, as if breathing too loud might shatter every single thing in the room.

they dared to reach out then, just barely brushing their hand against yours. your skin felt warm, grounding, something that pulled them back down from the dark place their thoughts so often took them. and it felt almost wrong, this simple touch, like they were stealing something precious. but you didn’t pull away; instead, you turned your hand over and let their fingers slip into yours.

“hey,” you said, voice soft, barely above a whisper, and W’s heart stuttered in a way that made them feel like it wasn’t so irreparable after all. “are you okay?”

“sometimes,” they started, the words tumbling out before they could stop them, “i forget that you’re real.”

you blinked at them, surprised. “what do you mean?”

they shifted, feeling awkward, feeling seen. “i mean this. being here with you. it feels like a dream, and i’m terrified of waking up.”

a faint smile touched your lips. “this is real, W. i’m real. we’re real.”

and they knew that, in some rational part of their mind. but knowing it didn’t stop the way their heart twisted in knots.

“you were the only good thing i ever managed to dream up amongst my nightmares,” W murmured, a confession they hadn’t even meant to give, something that slipped out like it had been there all along, waiting.

your hand tightened around theirs, and their chest didn’t feel so tight anymore, the edges of their thoughts not so cutting. with you, the bad dreams faded, the fears dulled, and the ashamed parts of themself grew just a little softer.

they remembered when you two used to have sleepovers, how you’d sleep side by side, and they’d wake up feeling safe, as if just being near you could make all the bad things go away. even now, all these years later, they knew they sleep better with you beside them.

“elmo?” you said, bringing them back. your gaze was gentle, the kind of look that made them feel seen, like you weren’t just looking at them but through them, into the places they only laid bare for you.

“yeah?” their voice was rough, the sound scraping out of them like it was pulled from the depths of their very soul.

“i’m really happy you’re still here,” you said, simple and honest.

insecurity twisted in their chest, old and familiar, a reminder of all the ways they’d been told they weren’t enough, weren’t wanted. the shadows of their parents’ abrupt abandonment lingered, whispering that they’d never be worthy of love, never be more than something to be picked up and quickly discarded. but here you were, your hand in theirs, anchoring them, making them dare to believe the contrary.

W tried to laugh it off, the awkwardness seeping into their voice. “you don’t have to say that just because i look like i might be having a breakdown soon.”

you shook your head, your gaze soft but fierce. “no, i mean it. i love you, elmo, cross my heart. and i’ve also… i’ve also missed you. a lot.”

“i love you too, cross my heart twice. and...” W swallowed, their throat tight, sapphire blue eyes shimmering. “i missed you a whole lot more. more than i can put into words.”

for a moment, there was only silence. you squeezed their hand again, and W looked at you, really looked, as if memorizing every detail, every line and shadow of your face. there was that familiar softness in your eyes, a warmth they didn’t think they deserved, but they couldn’t bring themself to let go of it. not yet. so they betrayed their self-effacing mind yet again, just this once.

and then, almost as if testing the waters, they whispered, “you know, this is a little embarassing to admit but i’ve always slept better when you were around.”

you simply smiled. “me too.”

the two of you laid your head down together, hand in hand, and when sleep finally claimed the tired blonde, all they dreamt of was you.