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whimsiwitchy · 5 months ago

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Controversially Young Girlfriend

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men.

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more.

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million.

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything.

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it.

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends.

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here.

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two.

“You’re right.”

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier.

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…”

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen.

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy.

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes.

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.”

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you.

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly.

“Hm..Well I give it a week.”

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences.

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off.

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up.

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had.

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you.

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures.

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face.

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly.

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman.

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.”

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces.

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling.

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out.

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone.

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up.

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off.

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug.

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up.

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt.

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out.

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy.

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;)

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back.

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest.

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman x popstar!reader #popstar!reader #f!reader #afab reader

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northern-passage · 7 months ago

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Interactive Fiction Community Raffle for Palestine!

Over 50 authors and artists from the Interactive Fiction community here on tumblr have come together to offer an array of prizes for a focused donation drive! We are aiming to raise as much money as possible for five families who are currently trying to evacuate Gaza. These fundraisers have been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi (thank you for your hard work!)

RULES:

You MUST donate a minimum of €5/$5 USD to one of these five fundraisers to qualify for a ticket. These are the currencies the GFMs are in (3 in euro, 2 in USD). We chose this amount because it is the minimum GFM allows and we are hoping to encourage as many donations as possible. Please be mindful that GFM does not show the conversion rate if you're donating outside your currency.

Donating once to all five GFMs will get you five tickets. And for each extra 5 you donate, you will get an extra ticket. (ie donating 10 to one GFM gets you 2 tickets, 15 gets you 3, etc.)

There are two tiers we will be pulling prizes from: one tier for writing, and one tier for art. When you submit your proof of donation, you will be asked to specify which tier you want your ticket to go towards. If you are submitting for more than one ticket, you will specify the tiers for each ticket-- you can spread them out between both tiers or put them all towards one.

You will be required to share a receipt/proof of donation via uploading a picture through google forms. We will not be handling any money. You are donating directly to the GFMs, and then showing us proof that you have done so. Please include the GFM and the amount you've donated in the screenshot you upload. We are only taking donations starting from June 7th onward.

We plan to raffle off all possible prizes using a random generator. Once the drive concludes on the 21st, we'll take a few days to gather up & organize the tickets and draw names, and then we will be in touch with winners both on tumblr and via email.

You can find the full list of contributors and prizes here.

Please understand that these prizes are pulled blind and assigned at random. You cannot pick or choose which writer/IF or artist you get. It is completely randomized. You get what you get-- even if you aren't familiar with the writer or their game. Artists and authors also have the right to refuse your request at their discretion. Please be respectful and remember that our main goal and focus here is fundraising for these families.

Abdullah Mohammed and his family

Mohammed Bardaweel and his family

Bilal Salah's family

Suad and her family

Firas Salem and his family

We encourage you to share these families and their fundraisers here and elsewhere. We're hoping by focusing our efforts we can really make a big impact for all of them.

Ticket submission form:

#interactive fiction #raffle

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 4 months ago

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In the Wake of Silence

Aemond x unnamed wife | HOTD Big Bang

Summary: Aemond and his wife endure a loveless, arranged marriage. His wife, haunted by bearing witness to the events of Blood and Cheese, seeks respect and support from her indifferent husband. The Prince, troubled with his own demons that triggered the Dance, struggles to meet her basic needs. Political intrigue and personal grief threaten to tear them apart, but his wife demands recognition and partnership, a fraught path, hoping to find respect where love has failed. | Word Count: 8.8k~ | Warnings: angst, child death, spoilers for hotd s2 ep 1, dub-con, mentions of miscarriage, canon-typical violence/misogyny

A/N: my submission for this year's HOTD Big Bang! Thank you to the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs for the artwork, and for organising the event alongisde @emilykaldwen. Please do show all the love for other lovely writers/artists over @hotd-bigbang, you're all in for a treat!

The first light of dawn barely touched the horizon as Aemond Targaryen slipped back into the Red Keep. His movements were stealthy and deliberate, the echoes of his footfalls swallowed by the cold stone corridors. The scent of the brothel, flesh and sweat, still clung to him, a reminder of the night’s escape from the relentless pressures of court and marriage.

As he approached his chambers, the atmosphere within the Keep struck him as strange. It was too noisy, too chaotic for the early hour. The usual stillness of the dawn was replaced by the frantic rustling of armoured feet and the distant, muffled cries of distress.

Turning a corner, Aemond's sharp gaze took in a disturbing scene. Members of the Kingsguard were dragging servants and courtiers from their rooms, shouting orders and spreading panic. The confusion and terror were palpable, a stark contrast to the serene darkness he had left behind.

"What in the Seven Hells is happening?" he muttered to himself, quickening his pace.

Aemond's mind raced, trying to piece together the reason for such commotion. He rounded another corner and saw more guards, their expressions grim and unyielding as they secured the doors of the royal nursery. His heart skipped a beat, an inexplicable sense of dread washing over him.

His steps became more urgent, the clamour growing louder as he neared his chambers.

He pushed open the doors and immediately noticed something was amiss. A draught hit his face, a wall he had never known was in fact a doorway was standing ajar. His eye scanned the room, taking in the disorder. His belongings had been disturbed, gold coins taken haphazardly from the table. Papers were scattered, and the lingering scent of unfamiliar presence clung to the air. Something rancid.

His expression remained impassive as he made his way through the halls. Kingsguard rushed by him, towards Helaena’s chambers as well as maidservants with newly washed blankets. When he reached his mother’s chambers, Ser Criston gave him a grave look, but stepped aside. Inside, his mother was bent over her table, her long chestnut hair falling in waves either side of her face to hide her moist eyes and sheer exhaustion. His grandfather, Otto, was seated, his spine as straight as his face.

At the sight of him, his mother paused, her eyes filling with a mix of relief and fear.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice trembling.

His eye flickered about the room, a habit, taking in the darkness that lay within her chambers, in his blind spot the drapes still pulled tight to push out the sun, the rumpled bed sheets.

“Mother,” he answered, “what has happened? My wife–”

Alicent’s face paled at the thought of having to revisit the hellish night she had only just left behind. “They came in the night. For Helaena’s boy…” she trailed off, “Jaehaerys is dead.”

Aemond’s blood ran cold, the weight of her words sinking in. His mind flashed back to his ransacked chambers and the passage he had found ajar. A passage even he had not known existed.

They had come looking for him.

And when they could not find him…

“And my wife?”

Alicent wiped her cheeks gently, inhaling as if to draw strength, “she was there, with Helaena and the children…”

The realisation hit Aemond like a blow. The assassins had been mere steps away from her. The thought of his wife in such proximity to danger, witnessing the horror of Jaehaerys’ murder, was almost too much to bear. The indifference he had maintained toward her now felt like a cruel and taunting weight.

“We must not be shaken by this,” Otto insisted, somewhat firmly, coldly. “We need to remain strong and act decisively."

“Not be shaken? They murdered my nephew, and my wife was there. This is no small matter.”

Otto’s eyes narrowed, his tone becoming sharper. “And that is exactly why we must remain composed, Aemond. Panic will only serve our enemies. We need to show them that we are not easily broken.”

“They came for me, Grandfather. When they could not find me, they killed an innocent child. My nephew. My wife could have been next.” His words were like arrows, laced with poison. “And how fares the King? Is he as composed as you wish?”

“The King’s composure is of no concern to you, Aemond. Your duty is to protect this family and this realm, not to question the King’s state of mind.”

“You speak of strategy while my family bleeds.”

There was a marked silence. Aemond was wound tight. His grandfather, while known for his clever strategy and had served many Kings as Hand at this very moment, was as detached emotionally as one could possibly be, and only saw how this tragedy might benefit their claim.

“And where was our Kingsguard while all this took place? Where was our vigilance when they slipped through our defences?”

He noted his mother’s still stance, her eyes unmoving from a single spot in the room, her hands, needing something to do, rose to her necklace, tight with worry and anxiety.

Otto said nothing for a moment. “We shall not be caught off guard again. Every measure will be taken to ensure our security.”

“I am sure your grandson will thank you for it now,” Aemond shot back.

“We will protect the ones who remain,” Otto retorted. “But we must do so with clear minds and steady hands. Emotions will not serve us in this fight.”

A tense silence hung between them, the air thick with unspoken words and clashing wills. Alicent stepped forward, her voice a fragile thread of calm amidst the storm. She took his hand, so large in her own it seemed near impossible that he could possibly be her son. Her large brown eyes were misty with tears.

“The Hand is right. We must be united in this,” she uttered quietly, trembling.

All Aemond could manage was a tired sigh. There was no use argumentation. For better or for worse, his grandfather was the King’s Hand, and if the King was indisposed, incapable of making rational choices, the members of his court had no choice but to obey.

“Where is my wife?”

Alicent hesitated, her expression pained. "She is with the maester," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“She is hurt?”

"No,” was her quick answer, “but do treat her gently," she said softly.

His frustrations at that moment were only tempered by the knowledge that she was not harmed. The relief briefly gave way to unease at the knowledge of what his wife had witnessed a night he himself was pressed to another woman’s flesh.

He moved, walked, existed, for some time without really realising.

"She witnessed the attack, my prince," the maester began, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "She was with Queen Helaena and her children when the assassins struck. It was a brutal and sudden assault. She managed to escape physical harm, save a small cut on her neck I have treated, but the emotional toll is severe."

"She is in shock," the maester continued, his gaze sympathetic. "Physically unharmed, thankfully, but emotionally... she has endured a great trauma."

Aemond nodded tightly. His mind raced at the thought that he had been out of harm’s way while his family and blood suffered horror beyond comprehension in their own home.

"Is there anything else?"

The maester hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "There was some... spotting," he finally said, his tone gentle yet hesitant. "Not indicative of her cycle. It may have been due to the stress and trauma she endured."

He couldn’t deny the slight sinking of his heart at the implication. Understanding the maester’s unspoken words, that his wife may have even been with child, added yet another devastation to the evening’s toll.

The maester nodded towards a door. "She requested to be alone. I advised her to rest, but she insisted on waiting for you."

Aemond swallowed hard, steeling himself for the sight of his wife, knowing that the rift between them had deepened with each passing moment of his absence. Of his continued absence, in their marriage.

He entered the chamber as if navigating a dragon's lair. It was dark with the curtains drawn, the only light coming from the dim glow of the hearth. Her figure was seated by the mantle, her back to him, still in the same dress she had worn the evening before.

He called out to her, but she did not face him.

“How kind of you to return from your nightly excursion.”

Aemond felt the hot frustration at the nape of his neck, his defences prompted. His jaw tightened at the accusation in her tone. “I had matters to attend to,” he said coldly, not bothering to disguise the edge in his voice.

“Matters,” she echoed in disdain.

“What I do in my leisure is my business. You know this.”

She finally turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “While you tended to your 'business,' I was here, witnessing the murder of our nephew. Is the first thing you have to say to me a poor excuse for your absence? And not perhaps a soft word in grief and comfort?”

Aemond’s expression remained stony, though a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. “I know what happened, and it should never have come to that. But do not think to judge me for seeking solace elsewhere.”

Her face crumpled somewhat, the pain evident in her eyes deepening, “I do not judge that, Aemond. I simply ask for respect and loyalty–”

“I have given you my name and protection–”

“It is not enough!” She rose her voice, which seemed to suck all the energy from her lungs, “not when I am left to face these horrors alone. Your sister lost a child. As did I–”

Her mouth pulled shut, her eyes drifting as if she had said too much for her frail heart.

His eye narrowed, a mixture of shock and defensiveness flashing across his face. “I did not know.”

She looked away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Of course you didn’t. You were too busy with your whores to notice.”

“Mind yourself–”

“Or what?” She snapped, “you will ignore me? As you always have done? Ignore your responsibility to your family? To me?”

It was rare she was ever able to best him with her words alone. But her next ones rendered the tall Prince completely silent.

“You have never been here, truly. I have been married to a ghost, a shadow that drifts in and out of our chambers but is never truly present.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, the silence between them filled with the echoes of their shattered relationship. Aemond’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like regret in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by cold resolve.

“I am a Prince of this Realm. My duties extend far beyond you. This marriage. You will have to accept that.”

It was a neat trick Aemond did often, he would open his mouth and Otto Hightower’s words would slip out between his lips.

She closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Then go. Do what you must. But do not expect me to wait for you, not anymore.”

Aemond hesitated, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out to her but didn't know how. The door closed with a resounding thud, leaving her alone in the darkness, the weight of their broken marriage heavy on her shoulders.

Why must it solely have been her burden to bear.

So she remained, the dim light from the hearth casting long shadows on each wall and tapestry. Her mind wandered aimlessly through her grief, reliving the horrors of that fateful night. The sounds and visions of her memories fueled the terror that gripped her even still. The pain of her own lost pregnancy, discovered too late, was a dull, constant ache in her heart. The exciting, blossoming swell of motherly intent had been snuffed out as quickly as it had been lit.

And the loneliness of her failed marriage only deepened her sorrow.

“The Mother knows.”

She blinked hard, but still heard the firm knock at the front of her mind. Two foreboding men who clearly did not belong in those parts of the Keep, one pulled harshly at Helaena’s arm, the other grabbed her from behind, yanking her to her feet. A cold blade pressed against her throat, and she gasped, her eyes wide with terror. Helaena let out a muffled scream as Cheese, smaller but no less menacing, held a knife to her neck. Two pairs of frightened white eyes flickering terrified in the darkness.

“She’s the Queen,” the smaller figure, dark curls stuck to his forehead, sneered against Helaena.

“A son for a son, he said. Well, does she look like a fucking son to you?”

She winced, his palpable violence felt through the pressure of the blade to her throat. Her breath felt like fire, her throat dry, the words spoken between the two men felt as if they were conversing in a language unknown to her.

“Prince Aemond ain’t here,” the other let out a cruel laugh, gesturing to the two cots with Helaena’s twins somehow sleeping deeply through the struggle. “We need to get our head and get out.”

Helaena could barely utter words, just winces and whimpers for mercy.

The man behind her was reluctant to release his grip. And through her body, an equally trembling voice broke loose.

"If you wish to hurt Aemond, take me," she said, her voice steady despite the terror coursing through her veins. "I am his wife. My death will wound him deeply."

She felt her breath still, two fierce blue eyes, shimmering with violent need, met hers from over Helaena’s shoulder. “So much loyalty for a man who is not even here to protect you. How touching.”

The man behind her peered at her face, his foul breath hot against her skin in a way that made her skin crawl. “So, you are the wife," he sneered, the cruel smile returning. "But we were promised a son. One who carries Hightower blood. You are useless to us.”

Helaena whimpered, her eyes darting to the cots where her children slept soundly, unaware of the nightmare unfolding around them. The smaller of the two pressed his blade a little harder against Helaena’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. "Maybe we should kill them all," he suggested, his voice dripping with malice. "Just to make sure we don't miss the right one."

The larger laughed behind her, a low rumbling sound the deepest in the Seven Hells. “Imagine his pain when he finds her body cold in his bed." He loosened his grip slightly, letting her feel a false sense of relief before tightening it again. "Or maybe we should kill the boy first, let her watch the consequences of her husband’s crimes.”

She was only let go then, her neck aching as blood rippled to the surface, a superficial cut, but one that stung nonetheless. She watched with wide eyes, unease. The blade that was at her neck caught the light of the candles briefly.

“They both look the same. Which one’s a boy?” he asked with a trembling excitement.

No.

Two hooded eyes, craving bloodshed and death, turned to Helaena, who stood similarly vulnerable. “The Mother knows.”

The room seemed to tilt and sway, the walls closing in around her, sounds muffled as if her ears were submerged underwater. She saw Helaena’s tear-streaked face, the anguish in her eyes as she was forced to point out which of her children was the boy. The assassins crowded the bed, dark shapes looming over the small, innocent form lying there.

Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of her helplessness. She wanted to shout out, to offer herself in place of the child, but the reality of her situation silenced her. Perhaps the smallfolk knew too well that Aemond cared little for his wife. That her sacrifice would mean nothing.

It felt like a nightmare, each moment stretching into eternity. She followed behind Helaena, Jaehaera hugged to her tiredly, limbs heavy with dread. The corridors blurred together, each step a struggle against the overwhelming sense of doom. As they neared her chambers, she broke away, her heart pounding with a desperate hope that Aemond had returned.

She burst into her chambers, the door slamming against the wall with a resounding crash. "Aemond!" she called out, her voice trembling with panic. The silence that greeted her was deafening, a void that swallowed her cries. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of the night's horrors pressing down on her. "Aemond!" she screamed again, her voice breaking with desperation.

But the chambers stood empty. She stood there, the cold emptiness of the room closing in on her, offering no comfort, no solace. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of her solitude. She stumbled forward, calling out his name once more, her voice echoing off the walls. "Aemond, please!"

The darkness seemed to close in around her, her hopes extinguished like a dying flame. She sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself, trembling violently. The silence was unbearable, a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed her only moments before. "Aemond..." she whispered, her voice barely more than a choked sob.

The tapestry on the far wall was slightly askew, the ends flailing in the draught. A cold realisation washed over her. This was where they began. This is where the assassins had come in. A sick sense of vulnerability swept over her, making her stomach churn. They had been here. She was not safe anymore.

Her heart raced faster, and she felt a sudden, sharp pain shoot through her abdomen, doubling her over in agony. She gasped, clutching her stomach, the intense cramp sending waves of nausea through her body. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt, a searing agony that stole her breath and left her gasping for air.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking with a new kind of desperation. "Please, no."

But the loss was immediate.

She whispered Aemond's name one last time, her voice a fragile thread in the vast emptiness.

A gentle voice broke through her trance, pulling her back to the present. “My dear, can you hear me?”

She blinked, the room coming into focus. Alicent, her mother by marriage, was seated before her, concern etched deeply into her features with a drink cradled in her hand. Her dress was different, her hair braided in a manner that did not resemble that terrible evening.

How many days had passed? What had she eaten? Had she seen Aemond since that morning?

It was frightening, to exist without remembering.

Alicent repeated her name softly. “I’ve been calling your name.”

She turned to look at her, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I apologise, I... I was just thinking.”

Alicent sighed. “I know, dear. I cannot imagine the pain you’re in. But you mustn’t let it consume you.”

She nodded, but couldn't help but feel both frustrated and powerless. How could she not allow this to consume her, when she could still feel the twisting in her chest and the hollowness that had deepened since that night. “Of course.” Was all she said.

Alicent gave her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. “You’ve endured so much. More than anyone should have to bear. And I know it feels impossible now, but time will help.”

It felt as if ‘time’ was merely Aemond's mother's way of shifting responsibility. As if the effort were not needed in this mortal realm, and decided entirely by the Gods.

It was unfair, she thought. To have been abandoned by them in her time of ultimate need.

Alicent retreated, shrinking as she felt her despair, “Helaena is deeply hurt. She is sensitive, and this tragedy has cut her deeply, naturally,” Alicent trails off. “Perhaps you might go and see her. It might help both of you.”

Would Helaena even want to see her? She had not tried, reasoning that she and the King had enough to deal with. The death of their child. One another. The dark omen that loomed over the Keep.

She had not wanted to intrude on her suffering, despite feeling it so profoundly herself.

“Aemond has his own way of dealing with grief,” Alicent added suddenly, “it may not be the way we wish, but he is still young and finding his path. His responsibilities weigh heavily on him.”

She could have laughed. The only decent smile she would have broken in an age. Responsibilities.

It seemed the Dowager Queen truly had no idea what any of her own children were thinking or doing at any given time. And for that, she could not help the simmering resentment.

She masked it simply with a polite nod, acknowledging but not believing. Alicent’s face tightened with the strain of balancing her loyalty to her son and her compassion for her.

“I understand your grief, my love. I truly do. But you must try to understand his burdens, as difficult as that is. He has a duty to the realm, and sometimes that means... sacrifices.”

Her eyes were dry from nights of endless crying, and she felt them strain as she turned her head to Alicent, as if she could not quite believe what she had said. As if Aemond's words were perfumed and spilling from his mother's mouth.

“And that is what I am?”

“You are a part of this family, and we must all find a way to support each other. I cannot excuse his actions, but I can ask for your patience and understanding. For all our sakes.”

It was not an answer to her question. Merely a dismissal. She swallowed hard, the bitter taste of resignation settling in her throat.

For a moment, she stared down into her cup of warm tea, untouched. Watching the rich brown ripple, for she could not stand to look into the bitter shade of Alicent's any longer.

“It is all I ask,” Alicent uttered gently, as if she was aware of the tentative string she walked upon.

She nodded slowly, the weight of expectation pressing heavily upon her. She forced herself to meet Alicent's gaze, searching for any sign of genuine compassion or understanding. There was some, but it was overshadowed by the stern duty that ruled the Dowager Queen.

Alicent gave a sympathetic smile, “you have shown great strength, my love.”

She nodded again, though she felt anything but strong. The days had blurred into nights, and each moment seemed to stretch endlessly before her, a relentless parade of sorrow and duty. She was exhausted, worn thin by grief and the constant strain of maintaining a facade of normalcy.

Where was strength, in witnessing a brutal crime?

Where was strength, when losing a child that had barely lived?

Where was strength, in the waning tide of a failing marriage.

She had said to Aemond that it felt as if she were married to a ghost. But the more time went by, Lords and Ladies tiptoeing around her, their glances quick and measured, she felt very much the ghost herself. As if they see her, feel her presence, but do not hear her speak or breathe as if she were alive.

As much as she did not value the Dowager Queen's opinion of Aemond and their marriage, she struggled to cope with the unending trauma of her presence for Prince Jaehaerys’ murder. The nightmarish memories haunted her days and nights, an ever-present shadow that refused to fade. Each scream, each drop of blood, each moment of terror replayed endlessly in her mind. The palace that had once been her home now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around her.

The loss of the pregnancy was distant, but she still felt the fresh kick of it as if it were recent. It was a silent, aching sorrow, compounded by the knowledge that Aemond, the father, remained indifferent. The possibility of what could have been gnawed at her, the child a symbol of hope now lost forever.

With the child, she could at least have been useful, she reasoned. Her duty would remain paramount. But as Aemond grew less and less present, slipping into the arms of those he would rather share the warmth of his flesh with, it seemed less and less likely he would wish to try for another child with her.

Yet another thing her husband could take away from her. Her purpose.

The absence of this feeling had made her desperate for reconnection. She visited Helaena's chambers every day, requesting the Kingsguard stood straight at the door if she might speak with the Queen. But every time, he said the same thing.

“The Queen requests to be alone at present.”

Each visit, each attempt, ended in heartbreak. The closed doors and silence were a painful reminder that while she was not alone in her suffering, but also not welcome in her attempts to bridge their mutual anguish.

She felt her heart lurch into her chest when she returned to her chambers, finding an unfamiliar presence rummaging around the ornate oak cupboards. The figure, however unseen in this part of the Keep, possessed the silver moonlit hair she knew so well, but short, unkempt and choppy.

Her shocked gasp seemed to draw the King’s attention, and he turned, his clothes askew, face swollen and sunken from tears and wine consumption.

“Y-your Grace–” she found her words, giving a polite curtsy, trying to calm the hammering of her heart.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” he muttered, twirling a newly found decanter of wine in his hand. “The servants will no longer allow me to have my fill.”

She swallowed, her hand dropping from her chest, away from her thrumming pulse. “Of course, Your Grace. Help yourself at your leisure.”

Aegon’s gaze finally met hers, and for a brief moment, she saw the depth of his anguish. The loss of his son had shattered him in ways that wine alone could not mend. He took a long, unsteady sip from the decanter, the liquid sloshing slightly as his hand trembled.

“Is there anything I can do to help, Your Grace?” She asked softly, unsure if her presence was a comfort or a burden.

Aegon let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Unless you can bring back the dead, there is little anyone can do.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and poignant. Aegon’s words lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of the shared grief that bound them both. He realised, too late, that his careless remark had cut deeper than intended. He had lost a son, but she, his sister by marriage, had also felt a profound loss.

Aegon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I... I apologise. That was thoughtless of me.”

She shook her head, her expression softening. “We all speak from our pain, Your Grace. I understand.”

Aegon leaned against the table, his eyes bloodshot. “Where is Aemond?”

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. And that seemed an answer enough. She felt her cheeks get hot, in his presence, the guilt seemed to grow and grow.

Why could it not have been her that night. She has mulled over the question several times.

“I am sorry…” she choked out, wiping her cheeks when moisture nipped at her sensitive skin. “I could— could have done more—”

Aegon’s expression softened, the bitterness in his eyes giving way to a rare moment of understanding. “It was not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

There was a beat of silence as he approached, the decanter hanging lazily in his grip at his side. He looked exhausted, as if all the fight had left him.

“I thank you…for being there for Helaena and Jaehaera,” he murmured, as if the Keep’s walls had ears, “my sister has a gentle temperament, and you are much like a natural born sibling to her.”

The silence that followed was heavy with shared pain and an unspoken understanding. For a moment, their grief became a silent bond between them, a fragile thread of connection in the midst of their suffering.

Her voice broke the silence softly. “I only wish I could do more, Your Grace.”

Aegon opened his mouth to reply, but the appearance of Otto Hightower in the doorway halted him. Aegon’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly hid the decanter behind his back, trying to conceal it. With a curt nod to her, he slipped out of the chamber, leaving her alone with Otto.

She surmised perhaps, Otto had given the King a sharp gesture, inviting him to leave. And she steeled herself for the man's oppressive and yet firm presence, and turned to face him.

Otto stepped into the room, his gaze sharp and calculating. He glanced at her, noting her flushed cheeks and the way she quickly composed herself.

“I hope I am not interrupting.”

She shook her head, the brief moment of awkwardness fading. “Not at all.”

Otto’s eyes swept over her, lingering momentarily before returning to her face. “I came to ensure you are managing well under the circumstances.”

Just what reaction might he expect from her? To be scaling the walls with madness?

“It is said that people often find unexpected strengths in times of hardship, though it seems some have less experience in harnessing them.”

Her fingers tightened where she held them in front of her and tried her hardest not to mirror the feeling in her expression. “The weight of grief is heavy.”

“Indeed. It is important to remember that appearances can be deceptive. And, it would be unfortunate if this…response were to become an impediment rather than a motivation.”

Her shaky exhale did little to ease the tension in her body.

“I appreciate the reminder, Lord Hightower.”

Eager to see the back of him, she made no attempt to offer wine or tea. She did not want this emotionless, self-serving attitude to further darken the doorway of her chambers.

And she thought as she listened to the Lord Hand’s footsteps echo softly down the hall, that she now realised where her dear husband inherited this trait.

Aemond lay in the dimly lit room of the brothel, the scent of incense mingling with the faint aroma of sex and wine. His eye drifted shut at Sylvi's fingers through his hair, running the silver strands through them as if it were silk illuminated by pale moonlight.

Sylvi, with her deep, knowing eyes, watched him closely. She had always been good at reading him, understanding the depths of his turmoil without needing words.

“You are troubled,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm in the quiet room.

“None more than is usual.”

“Tell me,” Sylvi countered, not letting him evade the truth.

“Daemon sent them to kill me,” Aemond’s voice was low, but his attention seemingly elsewhere, “I was out.”

“You were with me,” Sylvi reminded him, her fingers still tracing soothing patterns on his scalp.

“In truth, I am proud that he considers me such a foe. That he seeks to murder me in my bed.” Aemond’s voice held a mix of pride and bitterness, the conflicting emotions evident in his eyes as he looked up at her. “He is afraid of me.”

“As well he should be,” Sylvi said with a sickly smile, her fingers pausing for a moment, her body leaning closer to brush her breath against his lips. “The boy has grown into a man.”

“No. Not here.” Aemond pulled away from her intimacy, creating a physical and emotional distance. Sylvi sensed there was another truth Aemond was not displaying, and there was a thin, tentative line she had to tread as the man before her curled his legs to his chest.

“And what else?” she inquired, making no attempt to touch him.

Aemond’s gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if trying to grasp an elusive thought. The room felt colder, the flickering candlelight casting long, unsteady shadows on the walls. His usually composed facade was cracking, and the turmoil within him was evident in the tension of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. He struggled to find the words, each breath he took seeming heavier than the last.

“They came for me. When they couldn’t find me, they killed my nephew. And my wife... she was there to witness it all.”

"That must be an unimaginable burden to carry."

Aemond continued, his voice growing harsher, as if he expected Sylvi to be more…insistent of his guilt. “I was supposed to be there, but I was not. I was here. And she... she suffered because of it. My sister also.”

But there was little the other woman could say to quell the storm within. It was a complicated one, as it was always with Aemond she had begun to find out. While it was clear there was no love in this tumultuous marriage, the thought that she had endured such trauma while he was away, seeking solace in the arms of another, gnawed at him relentlessly. His absence had cost his family dearly, and the weight of that realisation was almost unbearable.

“And how do you feel?” she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“How do you think I feel?” he snapped. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “I am angry. My wife slips further into grief, not that she was ever truly close to me. And I do not know how to reach her.”

“Anger is natural, given everything that has happened.”

He shakes his head, the words seem empty. “And what is to be done about it. She lost a child that night,” he recalled bitterly.

Sylvi regarded him with a knowing look, her eyes glimmering softly in the dim light. Her voice was gentle, almost melodic as she spoke.

“Perhaps, if she were to fall with child again, it would lift her spirits.” There was no recognising the subtle manipulation in her voice, nor did he realise the depth of what he had just revealed. He simply nodded, lost in his thoughts.

Sylvi’s fingers traced patterns on his arm, her touch light and soothing. She was planting a seed, one that could lead to healing or further heartache, depending on how it grew. “You have the power to change things, Aemond. You can give her hope again.”

“I do not know if I have hope to offer her.”

Sylvi tilted her head slightly, her eyes studying him with a blend of sympathy and curiosity. “She is your wife. She is still your responsibility. Even if you don’t love her.”

Aemond’s face hardened, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Love is for peasants who wish to fuck without sin.”

Sylvi's gaze softened, though there was a hint of steel beneath her calm exterior, and perhaps a catching of some offence. “And what of duty? Even in the absence of love. And perhaps, through fulfilling it, you might find something worth holding onto. New life can often pave a new path.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air, the hollow ache of his failure sitting like a stone in his chest.

“I suppose duty is all that remains.”

The conversation with Sylvi weighed heavily on his mind, her words about duty and new life echoing in his thoughts. As he reached the door to his wife's chambers, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle before he finally pushed it open.

She was sitting by the window, staring out at the darkened sky. She didn’t turn to look at him as he entered, her grief-stricken face illuminated by the moonlight. The room was silent, save for the soft rustling of the curtains in the night breeze. He watched her for a moment, noting the listlessness in her movements, and he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he had been avoiding.

“I need to speak with you.”

She looked up from where she sat by the window, her eyes dull and unresponsive. “What is it, Aemond?”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “We need to try again. For a child.”

Her reaction was immediate, her eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” he replied, his voice steady. “We have a duty to our house, to ensure its future.”

“Duty,” she spat the word like it was poison. “Is that all you ever think about? Our child, the one I lost, does it mean nothing to you?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “It is not about that. It is about moving forward. We cannot dwell on what we have lost forever.”

She stood, her hands trembling with the force of her emotions. “You think I have not tried to move forward? Every day I wake up and try to put the pieces of my shattered life back together. But you... you have not been here. You do not understand what it’s like.”

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “I have my own burdens. My own ways of dealing with them.”

“By disappearing to the brothels every night?” she shot back, her voice rising.

He had never seen his wife like this, never. With her, there was an element of submission she had always offered, and she never complained, not once, before. Her eyes were so expressive he could read them like a tome. And in this moment, when she had said what was at the forefront of her mind, something she would dare not voice mere moons ago, he watched as her mouth slipped shut and she shrank back in on herself, sensing her words had widened their ever-expanding emotional chasm.

She looked upon him as if she were afraid of his response. But expectant.

Aemond took a step closer, his expression hardening. “This is not just about us. It is about our family, our legacy. We need to try again.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. “I cannot snuff my pain out like a flame, Aemond. I cannot…pretend everything is well and start over like nothing happened.”

“I am not asking you to forget,” he said, his tone softening slightly.

But he was asking her to cast it aside. And for what?

“Why, Aemond…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why do you care so much about an heir when you cannot even care about me?”

The silence that sat between them was an ugly one, borne of years of regret and guilt, like a festering wound that refused to heal. It stretched and twisted, warping the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths and broken promises. The weight of it was suffocating, pressing down on their chests and stealing the breath from their lungs.

He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him, leaving only the bitter taste of unspoken confessions. He could almost hear the whispers of the smallfolk, the cruel gossip that had spread like wildfire through the castle walls, rumours of her inability to bear a child, seeded by a careless word in a brothel. The knowledge of it gnawed like a disease, a constant reminder of her perceived failure, exacerbated by Aemond’s apparent indifference.

Aemond’s gaze was hard, his jaw set in a rigid line. The vulnerability he had shown moments before was gone, replaced by the cold mask he wore so well. “Because it is what is expected of me,” he replied, the edge in his voice returning. “We all have our roles to play. I must ensure our future, whether I like it or not.”

He began taking off his doublet, the heavy garment sliding off his shoulders with a practised ease. The action was mechanical, almost detached, and it sent a shiver down her spine as she realised his intention.

"So soon...?" she said quietly, blinking the moisture from her eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of her sorrow.

Aemond paused for a moment, his hands stilling on the laces of his shirt. He looked at her, truly looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, something akin to regret flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once more by the cold determination that had come to define him.

“We cannot afford to wait,” he said, his tone softer but no less resolute.

Her heart ached with a sorrow so profound it felt as if it might swallow her whole. She wanted to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, but she knew it would be futile. Instead, she simply nodded, the movement small and resigned. She moved to the bed, the weight of her grief pressing down on her with every step and when Aemond joined her, the distance between them became palpable even in their proximity. There were no tender words, no gestures of comfort; just the cold, stark reality of their duty. His touch, impersonal.

She tried to steel herself against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, knowing that this act was not born of love, but of necessity. And in that moment, the chasm between them seemed wider than ever, a silent testament to the love they had never truly known.

He did not look at her, did not seek her eyes. His mind was elsewhere, already thinking of the future he was so determined to secure. When it was over, Aemond pulled away, the silence between them more deafening than any words could have been. He dressed quickly, his movements efficient and unfeeling. She remained where she was, her body and spirit drained.

Her own form felt nothing like her own as she righted herself to sit up, pushing her skirts back down her legs, armouring her skin as if she needed protection over every inch of her. Aemond stood, his back to her, barely a silver hair out of place, fastening his breeches with a meticulousness that seemed almost cruel in its precision.

“Do you find comfort in their arms because you cannot stand to be close to me?”

Aemond's shoulders tensed, but he did not turn to face her. “I do not know what you want of me,” he replied, his voice distant and cold, like the draught seeping through the cracks in the ancient stone.

“I want to be respected as your wife. Your equal.” Her plea hung in the air, laden with the weight of unmet expectations and unfulfilled promises.

“I cannot change what has happened. I did not know how to be there for you then, and I do not know now." He finally turned to face her, his gaze meeting hers with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I do not know how to be that man. I have failed you, and I may continue to fail you. But I will try to respect you as my wife, if nothing else.”

Her shoulders slumped under the weight of his words, the fight draining out of her. The acceptance in her voice was tinged with a profound sadness, the acknowledgment of a life destined to be lived in the shadow of duty rather than the light of love.

“Very well. If that is all I shall ever be.”

Some time passed, each day blending into the next in a haze of routine and muted sorrow. Servants and guards whispered as she passed, their sympathetic glances and hushed tones adding to the heavy silence that surrounded her.

The bloom of spring flowers went unnoticed, their colours a stark contrast to the grey fog that seemed to envelop her mind. She was supposed to track the days, to know when her moon blood should come, but time had lost its meaning. The markers of her cycle were swallowed by the same darkness that claimed her thoughts.

“The summer of a woman's years is a short season. It passes by in the blink of an eye. Toyed with by this momentary value.”

Her mother had always been blunt about her words. But now, more than ever, with the taunting explosion of colour and vibrancy outside, she felt as if her season was closing in, like a prison she could not fight.

Some evenings, as she sat alone in her chamber, she felt a familiar ache low in her abdomen. It was a dull, persistent pain, one she knew all too well. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to steady herself. Was it her moon blood, or was it something else? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she could not bring herself to seek answers, to go to the maester to confirm. The prospect of hope was too painful, the fear of disappointment too great.

Life or loss. There was an element of control she could grapple to, by simply not knowing.

As usual, her Lord Husband remained absent from her life. Perhaps it was just as well she did not know, and that he did not inquire.

It was a pleasant enough evening in any case, spent mostly by the fire, the light of the flames serving to assist her in the delicate art of her embroidery. A pastime she would otherwise spend with Helaena in days passed. Since calling to her chambers most days in the immediate aftermath, in truth, she had rarely tried to urge her to accept her presence. Reasoning that in time, perhaps the troubled Queen would make her way back to her, in body and soul.

She felt her whole jump in her seat in shock, the door to the chambers swinging open and then shut with a loud thud. For a short moment, it brought her back, the horror making her heart hammer against her ribs, fully expecting to see two figures darken her doorway once more.

But her wide eyes only looked upon the lone figure of her husband, his face a mask of anger and humiliation. As usual, he had ignored her presence entirely and went straight to the decanter on the table, pouring himself a generous measure of wine. Unusual behaviour from her distant husband. He sat down heavily in the chair by the hearth, taking a long drink, his movements tense and jerky.

She knew better than to ask, given the state of their fragile bond. Fearing perhaps the reaction she would receive. Instead, for a moment, she watched him silently from the corner, her own heart heavy with grief and pain. Despite her suffering, she felt an irresistible pull to reach out to him, to try to soothe the anger radiating off him in waves, almost palpable in its intensity.

Her steps were soft and deliberate as she approached him cautiously, each footfall muted on the cold stone floor. The air between them felt charged, thick with tension. Aemond didn’t look up from the drink in his hand, his gaze fixed on the swirling crimson liquid. His fingers gripped the glass with a white-knuckled intensity, as if the drink was his only anchor in a sea of turmoil. She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing lightly against his shoulder. The contact was gentle, but he stiffened, his posture becoming rigid under her touch. Yet, he did not pull away, a silent sign that he was at least willing to tolerate her presence.

“You do not have to,” Aemond muttered, his voice low and strained, a mixture of resignation and weariness. “I have given you no reason to.”

“I know,” she replied softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of her empathy and unspoken concern.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the movement slight but significant. A flicker of something unidentifiable crossed his features, perhaps it was vulnerability, or perhaps a fleeting moment of regret. She met his gaze with unwavering softness, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding that transcended the barriers between them. The lines of her face were etched with sorrow, yet there was a tender resolve in her expression.

With a hesitant motion, Aemond took her hand, his grip warm against her chilled skin. He turned his face into her hand, not kissing it, but letting the skin rest against his lips in a gesture that was both intimate and detached. As if he was silently thanking her for her presence, for her effort to reach out despite the emotional chasm that lay between them.

She let her hand fall away slowly, stepping back to give him the space he seemed to need. The small, almost imperceptible shift in his posture, a release of some of the tension, indicated that her gesture had made a difference, however slight.

Aemond took a deep breath, the sound escaping his lips like a weary sigh. The tension in his body eased slightly, and he became aware that while they might not be aligned in love, his wife understood him in a way few others did. She grasped his pain and anger, and she reached out to him despite everything that had transpired between them. He gave her a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of her attempt to bridge the gap between them, a gesture that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

She returned the nod with a gentle inclination of her head, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of hope and understanding. They didn’t need many words; the shared silence between them was enough to convey their fragile understanding, a tentative first step toward mending the rift between them. The quiet was a balm, a soft promise of potential reconciliation, though it remained unspoken.

Her heart seemed to lift, the rest she received later that evening somewhat fruitful. And though Aemond left in the early hours of the morning the next day, she recognised that he no longer visited the brothel, busying himself instead in the library most evenings. It was a small victory, but one she clung to, rightly or wrongly.

The servants were even more palatable that morning, with sweet words and even sweeter smiles for her. Dressed in a gown she favoured the most, she felt her mood ripen.

She was gently roused from her reverie by the sound of quiet footsteps approaching her chamber door. A soft, hesitant knock followed, and the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was Helaena, the Queen, accompanied by her only living child, Jaehaera. The sight of them was a poignant reminder of both the life and loss that threaded through their lives.

Helaena’s eyes were red-rimmed but held a glimmer of resolve and determination. Her composure was fragile, but there was a soft strength in her presence. Her heart ached at the sight of them.

“Sister.”

She rose from her seat, her movements slow and deliberate, a sign of the emotional and physical exhaustion that still clung to her. Helaena stepped into the room, her gaze meeting hers with a quiet understanding.

“I thought we might spend the day together,” Helaena said, her voice steady. “As we used to.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at Helaena and Jaehaera. The gesture was more than kind, it was a lifeline extended in a sea of shared sorrow.

“I would like that very much,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet imbued with genuine warmth.

For a while, the three women sat together in silence, the room filled with the soft murmur of their breathing, the occasional rustle of fabric and the icy dropping of a needle. It was a quiet that spoke of shared pain and tentative hope, a small balm for their wounded souls. Helaena rarely spoke, apart from the quiet mutterings she herself was used to in her dreamy presence.

They, Helaena and Jaehaera, were a reminder that there were still threads of connection and understanding that bound them together. The day held the promise of comfort and perhaps, slowly, the possibility of healing.

From the doorway, Aemond watched them, his face was an unreadable mask, but his expression betrayed a depth of emotion, regret, longing, and a faint glimmer of hope. His gaze lingered on his wife, who held Jaehaera with a tender protectiveness, and on Helaena, whose hazy mutterings were soothing musings to the silent exchange of grief and solace.

He took a step back. For the first time in a long while, he felt a stirring of something he could not quite name, a hint of what could be if he only allowed himself to reach out and grasp it.

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dark-konohagakure2 · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you please write an Akatsuki X reader scenario where they kidnap shinobi Reader and the best way to convert her to their cause is by fucking her until she breaks? (If you could include Obito that would be awesome too)

tw: noncon, forced kissing, degradation, nipple play, abuse, mind break, forced orgasm, overstimulation, biting

All characters depicted are 18+

Deidara knows firsthand just how bothersome it is to be forcibly recruited into the Akatsuki, but despite the shared experience he isn't very empathetic when he tells the young kunoichi that she has no choice but to join their ranks, either willingly or by force.

The girl is loyal to her village, so she'll initially refuse, which angers the blonde artist. He didn't have a choice when it came to his recruitment, so why should she? Deidara is going to make her join, and he knows just how to do it.

Despite his being a lean man, he's very strong, so Deidara is able to knock her backwards with her clay and pin her down with his body, sitting on her chest as he holds her wrists with one hand and covers her mouth with the palm of his other hand, using the mouth on that hand to forcibly kiss her.

The tongue on his palm will force it's way down her throat, making her gag as Deidara rips her clothes off with the other hand, practically salivating at the sight of her perfect breasts, but he doesn't have time to enjoy the scenery when his main goal is to force her over to the Akatsuki's side.

Deidara isn't one to pull his punches verbally or physically, bullying his cock inside of her vulnerable entrance, manhandling her into whatever position works best for him as he shouts threats and insults at her.

"Cmon you little idiot! Just agree to join before I get more forceful, hmm! I'm not gonna stop until you say yes, un!"

He'll force his hand-mouths onto her breasts, using them to lick, bite, and suck her sensitive nipples, his actual mouth forcibly on hers as he pounds into her, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air as Deidara shoves his tongue down her throat.

He isn't very experienced due to his age and eccentric personality, so he's just fast and rough when he fucks, his his slamming against her ass while his only goals in mind are to convert her over to the Akatsuki's side and get his rocks off, and there is nothing she can do about it.

Deidara will have her overwhelmed from the bombardment of stimulus from his hands, mouths, and cock, he'll leave her whining and squirting underneath him despite herself, much to the artist's delight and smugness.

Deidara is a energetic young man, so he can go for hours if he really wanted to, but he'll stop on one condition. Each time he pulls out after cumming in her, he'll ask her if she's ready to cooperate yet, and if she is; he'll stop, but if she isn't; he'll go for another round with her body.

"Ready to cooperate? Well should be! Because I'm not gonna stop fucking you until you turn into a good little Akatsuki member!"

Deidara is glad that he's able to recruit a brand new member for their little Akatsuki family, now he'll earn the respect of his senior members, and he gets to have a brand new toy to play with as a bonus.

tw: noncon, kidnapping, drugging, aphrodisiacs, fuck or die, age difference, riding, mind break

Sasori hates dealing with new recruits, they're all just brats who know nothing about art and respect, so when he's tasked with coverting a shinobi they captured over to the Akatsuki's cause, the red haired puppet master isn't the slightest bit happy.

He feels nothing, so Sasori can't appeal to emotion in order to sway her, instead he'll use threats towards both herself, her comrades, and loved ones, but when she doesn't budge, Sasori decides to show her that his words are anything but empty threats.

Before she can even react, Sasori is already injecting her with a special poison he created just for brats such as herself, it isn't fatal in small doses, and it's designed to instill obedience in it's user, but it comes with the very unfortunate side effect of forcibly increasing her arousal levels as well.

Sasori totally didn't anticipate this side effect, but he's not going to let this unique opportunity pass him by, in fact he's going to take advantage of it. He'll force her warm and soft body onto his own cold and wooden one, forcing her onto his cock and telling her to make herself useful for once.

"Faster, brat, or do you want me to increase the dosage? Good girl, now ride it like your life depends on it, because it does."

Sasori won't make any noises, facial expressions, or even blink as she reluctantly bounces on his wood, her discomfort contrasting his indifference. If she slows down too much for his liking, Sasori will inject her yet again, although he's careful not to give her too much of his poison, he doesn't want to kill her yet.

Despite his lack of moaning or any expression at all, Sasori is rather enjoying the sight of the needy prisoner moving up and down on his cock while under the effects of poison is very satisfying to the emotionless puppet master, but the only time his satisfaction will be known is when he's cumming inside of her.

Eventually the combination of the stimulation, humiliation, and the drug is too much for the poor kunoichi to handle, being too drugged up and overwhelmed to even resist anymore, reduced bouncing on his cock and obeying his demeaning demands like a good little puppet, much to Sasori's satisfaction.

Sasori won't even bother to hold back his taunts at her expense, finding it incredibly satisfying that he was able to reduce a respectable ninja to his own personal puppet with just a few injections and his cock.

"Good little puppet, you'll make a perfect pawn for the Akatsuki, and the perfect hole for my cock..."

Before he knows it, the Akatsuki has a brand new member and Sasori himself has a brand new puppet to play with, which is very convenient since he's been looking for a new test dummy for his poisons.

tw: noncon, genjutsu, mind break, size difference, fingering, forced kissing, mental torture, mild degradation

Forcing people to do things they don't want to is a rather trivial task for Itachi Uchiha, but he prefers to not use violence to get his way, so when he's tasked with forcibly recruiting a new Akatsuki member, he'll get the job done using his specialty: genjutsu.

It's almost too easy, all he needs to do is make eye contact with her, and she's all his. He won't just use a genjutsu that makes her loyal to the Akatsuki, because it would just wear off eventually which would cause problems in the future, instead he'll cast a genjutsu that will make her more susceptible to his demands and advances.

Itachi is much bigger and stronger than she is, especially when she's in such a state, so it's not much of a challenge for him to take advantage of her, slipping his hand into her panties and his tongue into her mouth while she squirms in his grasp, under the effects of his sense heightening genjutsu.

His enjoyment won't be very evident on his face due to his stoic nature, but it's most certainly evident in his pants, the bulge in his pants pressed against her clothed pussy as his fingers move inside of her and he speaks to her in his usual flat tone, yet with a hint of mockery underneath.

"This feels uncomfortable doesn't it? I would stop if you would just cooperate, but I can plainly see that someone like you wouldn't know compromise if it stabbed you in the face..."

Eventually he'll pull his fingers out of her, which is somewhat difficult with how tightly her cunt is squeezing them, although her pussy won't be left empty for very long once Itachi forces his cock into her, hitting even deeper places inside of her that his fingers couldn't reach, such as her precious womb.

Itachi doesn't just jackhammer into her like a uncouth mutt, instead his pace incredibly slow, bordering on torturous as his cock slowly stretches her out and hits her womb with each thrust, his cock forcing her into submission better than any genjutsu ever could.

He'll have her whimpering and squirming underneath him in a matter off seconds, reapplying the genjutsu on her whenever she fights back too much, eventually she'll be so deep in the genjutsu that she won't be able to distinguish between reality and illusion, she won't even be able to tell if she's actually getting fucked or if it's just another genjutsu, it's an incredibly disorienting and terrifying experience, one that Itachi tells her she can end anytime if she just cooperates with the Akatsuki.

Eventually she'll become so disoriented and overwhelmed by both the illusion she's under and the sensation of him roughly fucking her that she'll practically burst into tears, weakly whimpering and sniffling as she begs Itachi to stop the genjutsu already, she won't even ask him to stop fucking her, she just wants to be free of the illusion, and if she agrees to the Akatsuki's terms, he'll gladly oblige her.

"Good girl. See? That wasn't so hard was it? All you had to do was ask nicely, it's quite simple really, even for someone so bereft of knowledge..."

He isn't surprised that she ended up caving to his demands, mental torture is his forte, and if she ever steps out of line with the Akatsuki's goals again, he'll have no qualms about giving her another 72 hours worth of suffering.

tw: noncon, size difference, double penetration, monster cocks, mind break, creampie, breeding, biting, degradation

In terms of physical appearance, Kisame is the most terrifying member of the Akatsuki, standing at nearly 7 feet tall with a set of razor sharp teeth and a shark-like appearance, he's the best in the organization at intimidation, and Kisame is more than happy to use brute force when attempting to force a potential recruit over to the Akatsuki's side.

Usually just flashing his teeth or brandishing Samehada is more than enough for Kisame to get his way, but when his dear little prisoner future coworker doesn't give in, Kisame decides he needs to take a much more rough and physical approach with her, the blue skinned man has been rather pent up as of late, and dealing with a brat is just increasing his frustrations, so he decides to kill two birds with one stone.

He's a brute, so he'll just throw here down onto the ground and force himself on top of her, his body huge compared to her slight form, Kisame practically moans at the sight of her eyes widening in terror when she feels his massive bulges rubbing against her, making it more than clear what Kisame is going to be taking from her.

Her pussy is almost comically tiny compared to Kisame's twin cocks, it would be damn near impossible for him to fit even one of his huge members inside of her virgin cunt, but Kisame Hoshigaki has never been one to let a little bit of difficulty stop him from getting what he wants from someone.

"Oh come now, don't go whining and crying on me yet! You don't even have the first one all the way in yet! So save your bellyaching for when they're both deep inside of you, sweetie..."

Befitting his appearance and reputation, Kisame is rough when he fucks, forcibly cramming both of his cocks into her tight pussy as he pounds into her, his huge body engulfing her's entirely while he's having the time of his life turning her body into his personal cocksleeve.

Kisame is a biter, he just can't help himself, it's in his nature after all, and he especially can't hold back his more primal urges when his cocks are balls deep inside of her and he's cumming directly into her fertile womb, his sharp teeth digging into her neck hard enough to draw blood, and when sharks see blood, they go into a feeding frenzy.

Kisame's sheer size is all the more apparent when his entire muscular weight is pressed down on her as he rearranges her insides with his cock, his huge body smothering her only adds to the poor girl's disoriented state, it's nearly impossible to breathe when a giant shark man is on top of her and using her as his breeding toy.

When Kisame eventually cums inside of her, he cums a lot, emptying his huge balls into her sensitive little womb, and the poor kunoichi is left completely cockdrunk just from one round of Kisame bullying her poor pussy with his big cocks.

"Oh how cute! You did didn't even last one single round! What was our leader thinking asking a pathetic weakling like you to join our little family..?"

This entire experience has once again reminded Kisame why he just adores newbies so much, they're so weak and overconfident even when against someone as fearsome like him, and the stubborn toys are all the more fun to break.

tw: noncon, sadomasochism, abuse, degradation, fuck or die, misogyny, slapping, blood play, fear play

It's no surprise that a sadist like Hidan loves nothing more than causing distress and pain to others, even if it isn't for his religion or organization, so he's as giddy as a schoolgirl when he's given the task of forcing their latest recruit into submission, and if there's something that brings Hidan joy, it's forcing people.

He isn't the strongest in the Akatsuki, but he's one of if not the scariest member when it comes to just how unwaveringly brutal and heartless he is, and not only is Hidan brutal, he's also a complete pervert, a fact that will become almost instantly apparent to his already scared captive when he starts groping her and talking about how pretty of sacrifice she would make to Lord Jashin.

Hidan hurts people as easily as he breathes, so the morally bankrupt Jashinist has absolutely no qualms about forcing himself onto someone, it's like a power trip to him when he gets to have complete free reign over the organization's prisoners, subjecting them to his depraved whims at his leisure.

The white haired man will absolutely love it when she desperately fights back, kicking and scratching at him with the futile hope of getting him to back off, but getting hurt by her mid-fuck just turns Hidan on even more, he's the kind of man who loves both giving and receiving some of that sweet pain.

"Ohh..! F-Fuuuck yes~! Keep fighting me like that, babe~! It just makes me want to hurt ya right back, you feisty bitch!"

While Hidan really does love receiving pain, he's still going to return the favor tenfold, he'll slap her across the face for every kick that lands, and practically stab her with his spike each time she scratches at him. See? Hidan isn't a selfish lover at all! He's returning all of the sweet, addictive pain she's so graciously giving him, she should be thanking him really.

Hidan has the highest sex drive out of all his comrades, practically using her as a pocket pussy to empty his balls into, and to no ones shock, he doesn't even try to be gentle, forcing his fat cock in and out of her with the main goal of getting his rocks off, slapping her ass or breasts with each rough and sloppy thrust.

She'll inevitably start to bleed a little bit from how many times he's bitten her or poked her with his sharp weapons, but that won't deter Hidan in the slightest, in fact it'll only excite him more, and he'll even lick up the blood from her wounds, resulting in his skin taking on it's skeletal pattern, which only terrifies her all the more.

It doesn't take too long for his sheer sadism and brutality to take a toll on her, and she's begging him to stop, sobbing that she'll do whatever the Akatsuki says as long as Hidan just stops. Hidan is incredibly annoyed and disappointed that his fun is being cut short, and all because she can't handle him going easy on her.

"Huh?! Done already?! Geez, this is just what happens when ya let the broads join the boy's club, but fine! Welcome to the Akatsuki, you whiny cunt!"

Hidan isn't particularly happy about having another shrill pussy with legs in the same organization as him, but he manages to look on the bright side of things; at least he doesn't need to go down the street corner for a quick fuck anymore, now he only needs to go down the hall.

tw: noncon, age difference, size difference, tentacles, gaping, degradation, misogyny, bondage, anal

Kakuzu hates newbies, they're all brats without a shred of respect for their elders, it's bad enough that he has to put up with Hidan's nonsense, but now he has to deal with converting a new member? He's going to make her pay for his troubles, despite the fact that she wants to be there about as much as he wants her there.

He'll cut straight to the chase, plainly telling her to join the Akatsuki or else, although he doesn't elaborate at all on what the 'or else' will entail, so she doesn't take him seriously and immediately refuses. Kakuzu doesn't like that very much, he absolutely hates not being taken seriously, so the miser decides that there's no time like the present to make sure he knows that he's a very serious threat to her.

She can barely even react when his threads emerge from underneath his mask and cloak, quickly wrapping around her limbs and forcing themselves down her throat, muffling her noises of protest when the rest of his threads start slithering towards her vulnerable holes between her legs with no regard for gentleness or permission.

Kakuzu's metallic tentacles are uncomfortably harsh as they force themselves into her pussy and ass, stretching her holes out to 'prepare' them for Kakuzu's big cock, all she can do is weakly struggle and bite down on the threads in her mouth as Kakuzu gives her a stern talking to about how much of an ungrateful brat she allegedly is.

"Stop biting, brat. It hurts when you bite down on them like that. But I'll hurt you a hell of a lot more than you could ever hurt me if you don't shut up and take it."

He'll use his tentacles to spread her pussy out enough for him to get a good look at it, being sure to make sure he knows how shocked he is that she's still a virgin with how indecent she acts. Girls these days are just so disrespectful towards men, probably because none of them have a big strong daddy to put them in their place, but Kakuzu is about to change that.

His cock is just as big as the rest of him, so it will stretch her out a great deal when he forces in inside of her, even after all that preparation. Kakuzu is a product of his time, he doesn't prioritize his pleasure over her's at all, because that would imply he even considers her's in the first place.

He doesn't even really need to hold her down given how strong he is, he has her bound for his enjoyment, not his convenience. Kakuzu always finds it amusing when his prey struggles against his superior experience, and he finds it almost hilarious how she squirms against him, even with his thick meat buried balls deep inside of her.

Kakuzu doesn't really care where he cums, just as long as he does. He doesn't think it really matters if he cums inside of her, he's nearly a century old, he probably can't get her knocked up, so she can stop being so damn hysterical about such a slim possibility.

"Shut up. Trust me, idiot, I'm far too old to give anyone a baby, much less a whiny twerp like you. Besides, having a baby is all women like you are good for."

New members are always so troublesome for Kakuzu, all they do is drain the Akatsuki's finances even more, and Kakuzu is going to make sure that his dear newbie pays him back every last cent.

tw: noncon, power imbalance, mind break, god complex, violence, piercings, humiliation, kidnapping

Pain is the leader of the Akatsuki, so he'll deal with coverting potential members more often than not. He's the best man for the job, he has the reputation, status, intimidation factor, and most importantly; he has the abilities to back all those qualities up with action. Only a fool would try to deny Pain, but it seems that his dear future subordinate is something beyond just foolish with how much she's resisting.

She can resist to her hearts content, but she's a mouse in a trap compared to his godlike powers. When she inevitably true to make a break for it, Pain will simply use Universe Pull to force her back towards him, pinning her down underneath his cold body, his body temperature being enough to nearly make her shiver, even with his cloak on, and the proximity doesn't help matters at all.

Pain's method of restraining her is swift and cruel, he'll stab one of his chakra rods straight through both of her hands, pinning them to the ground and causing immense pain, to which he shows no remorse, because he's about to show her an even more intense pain with a very different kind of rod.

His Rinnegan eyes will be locked onto her's as he forces himself on top of her. She isn't as foolish as he initially suspected, and she instantly knows what he's attempting to do to her, but Pain will pay no heed to her struggles, treating what he's about to do to her like its the most justified thing in the world.

"Enough resistance. It's futile against me. I am God, and now you'll get the privilege of witnessing what happens to those who resist God's will."

Pain's cock is both thick and pierced, so it fills her up to the brim and the cold metal of his piercings touch every inch of her untouched depths. It's hard to tell if Pain can even feel the sensations of her pussy gripping his member, since his remains cold and impassive throughout.

Its unsettling how calm Pain is throughout the ordeal, lecturing her about understanding pain and the Akatsuki's goals, all while he's pounding into her, his thick cock bullying her womb with each thrust, increasing the intensity of the agonizing mix of pleasure and pain.

He could just use his Rinnegan to put her under his control and 'tame' her, but Pain doesn't have to do that, he's physically strong enough to brute force her body into submission, and the most effective way to do that is to brute force her pussy into submission first, and the rest will follow.

Once Pain has had his fill with her holes, he won't even need to ask her if she's going to come along with him or not, she has no choice. He's already destroyed her village, so she has no choice but to join his cause or be left to die alone.

"Playtime is over, little one. It's time for business. You will join the Akatsuki, or I'll just have to put you through this torment again..."

Swaying even the most stubborn of individuals onto his side is a trivial matter for someone like Pain, it's truly amazing how a little bit of destruction and degradation can go such a far way in terms of the elimination of one's insubordination.

tw: noncon, facesitting, suffocation, cunnilingus, rimming, age difference, piercings, power imbalance, fuck or die, humiliation

Being one of the most important members of the Akatsuki, Konan is used to recruiting new members. While she isn't a brute, Konan isn't above using physical means to get what she wants from the more particularly standoffish individuals.

Konan will attempt to negotiate at first, gently explaining the benefits of being a part of an organization as well-known and feared as the Akatsuki, and how it's much better than serving any village. But when the young woman continues to refuse Konan's kind offers, she decides to take more forceful measures.

Like a stern mother about to punish her unruly child, Konan will give the girl a few moments to reconsider her foolish choices, but when she inevitably doesn't, Konan decides to test just how stubborn someone is able to continue to act when they're unable to move or breathe underneath their superior.

Konan is a very strong woman despite her lithe physique, so she's easily able to hold the other woman down and sit on her face, pressing her entire weight down as her mature pussy presses against her face, practically suffocating the younger woman underneath her perfect ass, not budging an inch until she secures the girl's cooperation.

"Sorry, but you aren't allowed to come up for air until you agree to join the Akatsuki. If you keep squirming like that I'll simply add another ten minutes to your sentence..."

Konan is a very patient woman, she has all the time in the world, so she won't be in any rush to move from her rather comfortable seat on her face, simply occupying herself with her origami or by explaining more details about the Akatsuki and their goals, being sure to speak very highly of the organization that the girl will belong to in the very near future.

While patient, Konan is no saint, so she'll get bored of simply sitting around and waiting for the uncooperative girl to come around, so she'll demand that if she wants to live, she better get Konan off before the suffocation gets to her first, with how stern Konan sounds it's difficult to tell if she's being serious or not, but it would be foolish to take that chance.

While not usually very vocal, Konan will let out soft moans when she feels the younger woman's tongue against her perfect womanly holes, the wetness caressing the piercing on Konan's clit. If she keeps up the good work, then Konan will be more than happy to let her live.

She's a stern woman, but she isn't overly cruel, once Konan is brought to climax, she'll finally let the poor girl breathe, that is, if she agrees to the terms, and between joining a criminal organization and dying in such a humiliating way, becoming a rouge ninja is the much more preferable fate.

"That's a good girl... Now I just know you'll be a lovely fit for our great organization, you have the perfect... talents for us all to enjoy..."

Konan is very glad that the Akatsuki finally has another female member, now the purple haired woman will have someone she can go to whenever she finds herself needing a more female touch.

tw: noncon, overstimulation, degradation, pussydrunk!Tobi, size difference, exhibitionism, humiliation

Tobi is giddy at the opportunity to prove himself to his comrades by converting their lastest member over to their cause. But there is one small problem: she doesn't take him seriously at all, and really who would? He presents himself as a bumbling and immature man child, so nobody really pays him any heed, much to Tobi's dismay.

Poor, sweet Tobi tries to be nice, he really does, but she's just so mean to him, calling him an idiot and shoving him away whenever he gets close to her. Tobi looks like he's about to give up and sulk, when the masked man suddenly remembers the advice his sempai gave him; that a true Akatsuki member needs to be cool, concise, and mean.

Tobi is shockingly strong for someone so apparently airheaded, his muscles pressed against her body as he gets on top of her, revealing a surprisingly huge bulge in his pants as he does. Tobi seems completely oblivious to the fact he's rubbing his cock up against her however, scolding her in his squeaky voice to stop squirming and being so mean to poor Tobi.

He'll act as though its a freak accident when he fat cock slips into her pussy, he'll even sheepishly apologize when it happens, but since it's already in there, Tobi decides that this is the perfect opportunity for him to get to know his new best friend even better!

"Whoopsie daisy-! You were moving too much and I slipped! Now you have to be a good girl and take responsibility for getting Tobi stuck!"

For someone who's apparently so well meaning, Tobi is incredibly rough with his new toy friend, his hips slapping against her ass while he roughly holds her in place with his gloved hands and making obnoxiously loud noises of pleasure from behind his mask, clearly he's never gotten his cock wet before judging by how whiny and overwhelmed he gets almost instantly after sticking it in.

He's so loud that it's more than likely that the entire Akatsuki can hear what he's doing behind closed doors, the more annoyed members will even chime in, telling him to 'shut up!' and 'keep it down in there!' from outside the room, the fact that her other captors can hear what's happening to her is all the more embarrassing, but Tobi is too lost in the feeling of her perfect cunt around his meat to care.

Tobi is just too pent up for his own good, recklessly dumping his load into her pussy whenever he cums (which is a lot), and he'll feign surprise when she panics about him cumming inside, he as a grown man will claim that he didn't know that was how babies were made, demonstrating that he's either completely stupid, or a brilliant actor.

After spending so much time playing with her perfectly snug pussy, Tobi loses his composure, his voice dropping multiple octaves as he let's his mask slip, although not the literal one, but even with his face still covered, it's like there's a completely different person talking now.

"Soooo are you gonna be a good little girl and join the Akatsuki? You are?! Great~!! Now learn your place in our ranks, you pathetic slut."

She's most certainly learned a very valuable lesson now, she was right in only one assessment; Tobi isn't someone to be taken seriously at all, but Obito sure as hell is.

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todaystarot · 4 months ago

Text

What Will Your Future Child Love About You?

- a pick a card.

one two three

explanation.

I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet… Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card that’s focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you don’t want children, that’s cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.

disclaimer.

Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I don’t trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, what’s not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.

how to pick your pile.

There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you can’t take your eyes off, even if there’s another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.

proof read?

Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.

one

You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! It’s truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldn’t always be calm, but you wouldn’t show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you aren’t capable. -

Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isn’t something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you weren’t happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldn’t get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.

📜 nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands

confirmation.

high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , ‘i will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, ‘vanessa open the door please’, ‘ (…)running out of time’ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile

two

Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldn’t, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didn’t do anything. Such a pure child, the sort that’s very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. It’s like they can’t imagine a life without you.

Now, I don’t mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I don’t mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we don’t know each other, but it’s always nice to look after your health regardless.

On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.

You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.

📜 six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles

confirmation.

twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , ‘i bet on losing dogs’ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -

three

Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesn’t always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. That’s not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you don’t misunderstand the rest of the reading.

They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Y’all will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they don’t even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they don’t look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things aren’t always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Won’t matter if they are in the wrong or not, that’s your baby and you will stand by them!

They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.

Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying “look what I have to deal with”, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for y’all.

📜 nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands

confirmation.

thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , ‘i know a place we can escape ‘ , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarotblr #astro community #astroblr #free tarot #pick a deck #pick a picture #pick an image #tarot divination #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot community #tarot cards #didn’t proof read sorry y’all

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wonupatootie · 1 month ago

Text

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part II

오늘 날씬 너를 많이 닮아 너에게 가는 길은 꽃길이 되고~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II // Part III

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Yoon Jeonghan

“Death By A Thousand Cuts” by @ssssssssssssscoups

Fem!reader || fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n loves books. she loves the way they make her feel any emotion, to get lost within the pages and words that suffocates her heart. jeonghan loves performing, loves the way his voice makes the public go wild. if they fall in love, will they fall out?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Iris Beauty” by @wonunuu

Fem!reader || romance, fat angst, drama, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you and mina have been best friends for as long as you remember. after your parents passed from a horrible car accident, mina's parents kindly took you in, tending and caring for you as their own. at such a young age, you have learned the meaning of debt as this is your constant feeling towards your best friend and her parents. to compensate, you have showed them undoubtable loyalty, respect, love and kindness, just as they have showed you; you do everything they tell you without question. so when your best friend asks you to pretend to be her in meeting a guy she has been talking to online, your loyalty and trust are tested when you unintentionally develop feelings for him.

Hong Jisoo

“You Were Beautiful” by @viastro

Fem!reader || modernised cinderella au, strangers to lovers, humour, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in which you and joshua meet through your love for boba popsicles, but end up living out your very own complicated, mess filled, cinderella story.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Love On The Air” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || uni au, childhood friends to ???, pining, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･joshua hong wants you to know how he feels about you, but god forbid he actually say it out loud. instead, he settles on the next best thing : dedicating a song to you every week on the campus radio. too bad you’re too dense to actually figure out it’s all for you.

Wen Junhui

“Moonlight” by @nonononranghaee

Based on Hidden Love, orange cat x black cat || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jun as the boy who makes you believe in the existence of love

Lee Jihoon

“Yearning” by @jihoonotes

Gn!reader || sunshine x grumpy, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･for yn it was love at first sight, but for jihoon it was annoyed at first sight.. oops?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“FORELKSET” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, fluff, humour, romance, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a boring summer with you and your best friend led you both to do some dumb things, one being texting your number neighbor. however, things take a toll when your number neighbor isnt the person who they say they are.

Kim Mingyu

“My Melody” by @networkluvs

Gn!reader || college au, band au, strangers to lovers, slice of life, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in which you become the muse of the overly cocky rising rockstar on campus, kim mingyu.

Xu Minghao

“What I Would Do!” by @sungbeam

Fem!reader || acquaintances to lovers, pining, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･minghao is kinda sorta maybe in love with you, but he thinks you're so out of his league.

Boo Seungkwan

“Company Policy” by @whatsk-poppinhomies

Fem!reader || idol au, romance, fluff, drama, comedy, angst, smut || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being an intern at Hybe was a dream come true for you. It was simply a summer program where you got to experience and be a part of the behind the scenes work that pushed the artists to the top. Three months working with some of the biggest k-pop artists, it wasn’t a big deal, that is until Boo Seungkwan entered your life and you both began to question the Company Policy.

Lee Chan

“PANG!” by @kkumawrites

Fem!reader || college au, strangers to friends to lovers, angst, drama || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You'd consider yourself a simple college student, a freshman who just wants to survive their first year - but things get complicated when you're suddenly falling for someone you definitely shouldn't be, especially since he has a girlfriend already.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Fiancé” by @wondernus

ft. Pi Cheolin || est.relationship, romance, humour, mystery || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a mysterious pink fishing vest. a fiancé who wakes up in the middle of nowhere. and an upcoming wedding on the line. there's only so much you can take before you let your perfect future crumble before your eyes.

Unspecified End Game

“Choi Seungcheol Must Die” by @princessleechan

Fem!reader || Potential endgame: seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, chan || college au, slight angst, romance, humour, eventual smut || Status:Completed

⋆.ೃ��*:･Mingyu wasn't the one with his heart broken. It was his little sister. And Seokmin's older sister. And Chan's best friend. Choi Seungcheol is a menace to society and needs to be put down. Immediately. The sure fire way to do it is to give him a taste of his own medicine: break his heart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“REDAMANCY” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || Potential endgame: junhui, minghao || college au, slice of life, fluff, humour, romance || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･your best friend was lucky enough to have two boys pining after her. you on the other hand were unluckyenough to be in love with one of them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Newsflash!” by @cupidhaos

University harem, angst, humour, fluff, slice of life || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･university life can be hard when you get caught up with the SVT boys

⤷“Move!” (sequel of Newsflash!)

University harem, angst, humour, fluff, slice of life, mystery || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a new school year means new beginnings and new memories - but that can be hard with unfinished love stories in the way

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

#skye's recsᡣ𐭩 #seventeen fic recs #seventeen social media au #seventeen smau #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #junhui x reader #jihoon x reader #mingyu x reader #minghao x reader #seungkwan x reader #chan x reader #ot13 x reader #seventeen social media au fic recs #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut

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pinkmoontaco · 20 days ago

Text

It all started with a song || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Jihoon x Producer-Solo Idol Reader

Genre: Fluff, Idol romance

Summary: Jihoon, the reserved genius of SEVENTEEN, unexpectedly finds himself drawn to Y/N, a rising junior idol from HYBE, after collaborating on a duet. What starts as a professional partnership blossom into a heartfelt romance, captured in their respective songs

Author's note: This is my first time writing a story, and I truly appreciate you giving it a chance. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes—I’m still learning and growing as a writer. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and support my work. It means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy the journey I’ve created.

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

Jihoon was preparing to release his solo album, which included a heartfelt duet about two lovers. After finishing his own parts, his next challenge was to find the perfect female lead for the song. With Bumzu’s help, he sifted through several demos of the female section.

After an exhaustive search, one demo finally stood out to him—it was exactly what he was looking for. When Bumzu visited him the next day, he asked, “Did any of the lyrics catch your attention?”

Jihoon nodded and showed him the demo.

“Oh, so you liked Y/N’s lyrics,” Bumzu said with a knowing smile. That’s when Jihoon learned that the lyrics had been written by Y/N, a junior solo idol from HYBE.

“You’ve never met her, have you?” Bumzu asked.

Jihoon shook his head. It was no surprise—everyone knew Jihoon wasn’t one to socialize much.

“I’ll bring her to the studio tomorrow,” Bumzu said confidently before heading out, leaving Jihoon to ponder the upcoming meeting.

The next day, Jihoon arrived at the studio earlier than usual, his mind a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew Y/N by name, but meeting her in person would be different.

As he set up his equipment, the door swung open, and Bumzu walked in with a bright grin. Behind him was Y/N, her presence soft yet commanding. She wore a simple outfit, but her confidence and aura made it clear why she was a rising star.

“Jihoon, meet Y/N,” Bumzu introduced.

Jihoon stood, his usual calm demeanor masking his nerves. “Hi,” he greeted simply, bowing slightly.

“Hi! It’s so great to finally meet you Sunbae-nim" Y/N said with a warm smile. Her voice was light and melodic, just as he’d imagined. “I’ve heard so much about you and your music.”

“Likewise, but please don't call me sunbae-nim, you can call me by my name,” Jihoon replied, his words brief but sincere.

Bumzu clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work! You two have a duet to perfect.”

Jihoon gestured toward the recording booth, silently inviting Y/N to take her place. As they started working through the song, Jihoon found himself impressed—not just by her vocal ability but by her understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics.

They went over the harmonies and phrasing, fine-tuning every detail. By the end of the session, Jihoon was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything had gone. Y/N wasn’t just talented; she was professional and insightful, bringing a depth to the song that exceeded his expectations.

“You’re really good,” Jihoon said as they wrapped up, his tone earnest.

Y/N beamed. “Thank you! Your composition is amazing—it makes it easy to connect with the song.”

For the first time in a while, Jihoon felt a genuine sense of excitement about the project. Maybe working with others wasn’t so bad after all.

After their first session, Jihoon couldn’t stop thinking about how seamlessly Y/N had brought the song to life. It was rare for him to feel this level of connection with another artist, especially so quickly.

The next day, Bumzu texted Jihoon. "How was it working with Y/N? She said she had a great time."

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before typing back. "She’s talented. The song’s coming together well."

Bumzu responded with a teasing emoji. "That’s high praise from you! Maybe you should tell her that in person."

Jihoon frowned slightly but didn’t reply. Compliments weren’t exactly his strong suit.

Their second studio session was scheduled later that week. Y/N arrived on time, as cheerful and prepared as before. Jihoon noticed how her energy seemed to brighten the room, even when she was just warming up.

“Good morning!” she greeted with a bright smile.

Jihoon nodded. “Morning. Ready to dive in?”

“Always,” she said confidently.

As they worked through the song again, Jihoon found himself more at ease. Y/N’s suggestions were thoughtful, and she wasn’t afraid to ask questions or offer input, which he appreciated. Somewhere in between harmonizing and tweaking lines, they started to find a rhythm—not just in the music, but in their conversations.

During a short break, Y/N leaned back in her chair. “You know, Jihoon, this is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever worked on. It feels so raw and real.”

Jihoon glanced at her, caught off guard by her sincerity. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly.

“Is it based on a personal experience?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid to overstep.

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Kind of. It’s… inspired by the idea of love. Not necessarily mine, though.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to write about emotions from a distance.”

Jihoon nodded, appreciating her understanding. Their conversation drifted to other topics—music, inspirations, and even random stories about life as idols. For someone he’d only met recently, Y/N was surprisingly easy to talk to.

By the end of the session, the song was nearly complete. As they packed up, Y/N turned to Jihoon.

“I think this duet is going to be really special,” she said. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

Jihoon looked at her, feeling a rare warmth in her words. “You brought the song to life. I should be thanking you.”

Her eyes lit up at his unexpected praise. “Well, I guess we make a pretty good team,” she said with a grin.

Jihoon allowed himself a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”

As Y/N left the studio that day, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that meeting her had been one of the best things to happen during this project.

In the weeks that followed, Jihoon and Y/N spent more time together polishing their duet. Each session seemed to bring them closer, not just as collaborators but as individuals. Y/N’s infectious laughter and unfiltered enthusiasm often pulled Jihoon out of his shell, while Jihoon’s quiet determination and thoughtful approach inspired Y/N to push herself even further.

One day, as they wrapped up the final recording, Bumzu entered the studio with a wide grin. “So, how does it feel to be done?”

Y/N clapped her hands together excitedly. “It feels amazing! I can’t wait for people to hear it.”

Jihoon nodded in agreement, his usual stoicism giving way to a subtle but genuine smile. “It’s better than I imagined.”

Bumzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Wow, Jihoon actually giving compliments? I need to write this down.”

Y/N laughed. “He’s not that bad. He’s just… selective with his words.”

Jihoon shot her a mock glare, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, he found himself smiling along with her—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed by Bumzu.

As they packed up, Bumzu pulled Jihoon aside. “You know, you’ve changed a bit since working with her,” he said casually.

Jihoon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seem… lighter. Happier, even,” Bumzu said with a knowing grin. “It’s a good look on you.”

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting animatedly with a staff member. There was something about her—something that made him feel less burdened, more open to the world around him.

The song’s release day arrived, and the response was overwhelming. Fans praised the emotional depth of the duet, calling it one of Jihoon’s best works yet. Many were also captivated by the chemistry between Jihoon and Y/N, evident not just in their vocals but in the behind-the-scenes clips shared online.

As they stood backstage during a live performance, Y/N turned to Jihoon. “Are you nervous?” she asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not about the song, though. I just hope people feel what we tried to convey.”

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “They will. This song has so much heart in it. You’ve poured yourself into it, and I’ve never been prouder to be part of something.”

Her words struck a chord with Jihoon. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone in his creative journey. “Thank you,” he said softly.

When they stepped on stage and began to sing, Jihoon realized something unexpected. The song, which he’d once viewed as merely a project, had become something far more personal. And in that moment, as their voices blended and the audience’s applause filled the air, Jihoon understood just how much Y/N had changed his perspective—not just on music, but on life itself.

After the performance, Y/N grinned at him. “See? We nailed it.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his expression warm. “We really did.”

And as they walked off stage together, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that this was only the beginning of a story far greater than either of them had anticipated.

In the days following the song's release, the hype only grew. The other members of SEVENTEEN were quick to congratulate Jihoon. Mingyu, with his ever-present energy, was the first to bring it up during one of their group practice sessions.

“Hyung! That duet is insane! Everyone’s talking about you and Y/N,” Mingyu said, clapping him on the back.

Joshua added with a smile, “Yeah, the fans are loving the chemistry. You two sounded amazing together.”

Jihoon felt a rare flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. “Thanks, guys. It was a lot of work, but she made it easier.”

“Oh-ho!” Seungkwan chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hyung admitting someone made his life easier? This must be a first!”

The room erupted into laughter. Even Jeonghan, who always had a teasing comment up his sleeve, smirked. “So when do we get to meet this famous Y/N?”

Before Jihoon could respond, the studio door creaked open and in walked Bumzu—with Y/N beside him. The sudden appearance of their guest caught everyone’s attention.

“Speak of the devil!” Vernon said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N waved nervously, a bit overwhelmed by being surrounded by the full force of SEVENTEEN. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to finally meet all of you.”

Dino bounded over with enthusiasm. “You’re the one with that amazing voice! Your part in the song gave me chills.”

“Thanks!” Y/N said, her smile growing as she relaxed.

Hoshi, never one to miss a moment, stepped forward and grinned. “Are you ready to dance with us too? Because in SEVENTEEN, we don’t just sing—we dance.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a small smirk. “Don’t scare her off, Hoshi.”

Y/N laughed, feeling at ease now. “I’d love to try sometime, but I don’t think I could keep up with you guys. I’m more of a singer than a dancer.”

Jun nudged Jihoon playfully. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s found a great collaborator.”

Over the next hour, SEVENTEEN welcomed Y/N into their world, joking and sharing stories. The room was filled with laughter, the group’s usual dynamic enriched by a new presence. Jihoon found himself observing the way Y/N blended in so effortlessly, as if she’d been part of their chaotic family all along.

As the evening went on, Minghao approached Jihoon with a knowing smile. “You look happy,” he said simply.

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, who was now in an animated conversation with DK and Woozi, sharing anecdotes about their vocal warm-ups. A small, content smile played on his lips. “I guess I am.”

A few weeks later, SEVENTEEN was preparing for a group livestream, and Y/N was invited to join as a surprise guest. Jihoon wasn’t thrilled about the idea at first—he preferred to keep things professional—but the rest of the members were insistent.

“Come on, Jihoon,” Seungkwan pleaded. “The fans already love you two together. This will be fun!”

“It’s a great way to promote the song even more,” Mingyu added. “Plus, we want to see how she handles being in one of our chaotic lives.”

Reluctantly, Jihoon agreed, and Y/N arrived at the dorm just as the livestream was about to begin.

“Is this what it’s like before you go live?” Y/N asked, watching the members scramble to adjust cameras, lights, and snacks.

“Always,” Jeonghan said with a smirk. “It’s controlled chaos.”

As the livestream began, fans flooded the chat with comments. The members introduced Y/N, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

“Y/N’s here! OMG!”

“She and Jihoon look so good together!”

“The duet is my favorite song right now!”

Jihoon, who was reading the comments on his phone, shifted uncomfortably but managed a small smile. “The fans seem happy,” he said quietly to Y/N.

“They’re so sweet,” Y/N replied, her eyes scanning the messages.

The members took turns asking her questions, each one more playful than the last.

“Hoshi,” Y/N said, laughing, “why are you asking if I’d join the Performance Team? I just told you I’m not much of a dancer!”

“Because we can teach you,” Hoshi replied with a dramatic flourish.

DK chimed in, “Or you can join the Vocal Team! We need more people who can hit those high notes.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Minghao said. “You’re a solo artist. Stay in your lane before they rope you into our madness.”

The banter continued until Seungkwan leaned into the camera and asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“So, Y/N, how’s it working with Jihoon?”

The chat exploded with reactions.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, who was clearly caught off guard but tried to mask it. She smiled. “Honestly? It’s been amazing. He’s a perfectionist, but in the best way. I’ve learned so much from him.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, his ears tinged pink. “She’s talented, so it wasn’t hard to work with her,” he said simply, earning exaggerated “oohs” from the members.

As the livestream continued, Y/N fit right in with SEVENTEEN’s dynamic, laughing and joking with them like she’d known them for years. Fans in the chat began calling her an “honorary 14th member,” a title that made her laugh but also secretly warmed Jihoon’s heart.

After the livestream ended, the members sprawled across the couch, tired but happy.

“You handled that like a pro,” Mingyu said, tossing a cushion at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, catching the cushion. “You guys are a lot of fun. I can see why your fans love you so much.”

As the group began to disperse, Jihoon found himself alone with Y/N for the first time that evening.

“You were great today,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks. I was a little nervous, but you all made it easy,” Y/N said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Your members are like family, huh?”

Jihoon nodded. “They are. It’s chaotic, but it’s… home.”

Y/N smiled. “I can tell. You’re lucky to have that.”

There was a comfortable silence between them before Y/N added, “And thanks for letting me be part of all this. I didn’t expect to be welcomed so warmly.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his usual stoicism softening. “You’re part of it now. Whether you like it or not.”

Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. “I think I like it.”

And for the first time in a long while, Jihoon felt like the walls he’d built around himself were no longer as important.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N continued to bond with SEVENTEEN. She found herself invited to more studio sessions, group meals, and even impromptu dance practices. Despite her initial hesitation about being in the spotlight alongside such a well-known group, their warmth made her feel at home.

Jihoon, on the other hand, started noticing the subtle ways Y/N was changing the dynamic around him. She wasn’t just a collaborator anymore; she was becoming a friend. Someone who could pull him out of his creative tunnel and remind him to enjoy the little moments.

One day, after a long recording session, the group decided to hang out at their dorm. Y/N hesitated when Seungkwan invited her along.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” she said.

“You? Intruding?” Seungkwan scoffed. “You’re practically one of us now. Come on!”

When they arrived at the dorm, chaos quickly ensued. Mingyu was in the kitchen, trying to cook something “special,” while Hoshi and Dino argued over which choreography to show Y/N.

Jihoon sat on the couch, quietly observing the scene. Y/N was laughing with Jeonghan, who was undoubtedly up to some mischief. He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“You like her, don’t you?” Minghao’s voice pulled Jihoon from his thoughts.

Jihoon turned to him, his expression unreadable. “What are you talking about?”

Minghao smirked. “You’re not as subtle as you think. The way you look at her—it’s different.”

Jihoon sighed, leaning back against the couch. “She’s… easy to be around. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Minghao said, clearly unconvinced. “Just don’t wait too long to figure it out.”

Later that evening, as everyone settled in for a movie, Jihoon found himself sitting next to Y/N. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of laughter and popcorn crunching filled the air.

Y/N leaned closer to whisper, “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys. I didn’t expect this when we started working on the song.”

Jihoon glanced at her, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in her eyes. “You’re not just here because of the song anymore. They like you. I… like having you around.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, a soft smile forming on her lips. “I like being around you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of them, sitting closer than either realized.

“Jihoon! Pass the popcorn!” DK’s voice broke the moment, and Jihoon blinked, quickly grabbing the bowl to hand over.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. The warmth between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable.

As the weeks turned into months, their bond deepened. Whether it was through shared late-night studio sessions, casual dinners with the group, or quiet moments away from the chaos, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves drawn closer together.

And while neither of them said it out loud, they both knew that what had started as a simple duet had grown into something far more meaningful.

As time passed, Jihoon and Y/N’s bond became increasingly apparent to everyone around them. The other members of SEVENTEEN had a field day teasing Jihoon about it, though they were careful not to push him too far. Y/N, on the other hand, took it all in stride, her easygoing nature making her a natural fit within the group’s chaotic but loving dynamic.

One day, they found themselves in the studio late at night, working on a new song. The other members had already gone home, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N leaned over the desk, scrolling through the playlist Jihoon had prepared for inspiration. “This one’s good,” she said, pointing to a track.

Jihoon nodded, playing it without hesitation. The soft melody filled the room, and they both sat in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over them.

After a while, Y/N broke the quiet. “Do you ever think about what this all means? The music, the fans, everything we do?”

Jihoon looked at her, surprised by the sudden introspection. “All the time,” he admitted. “It’s why I work so hard. I want it to mean something—to leave something behind that matters.”

She smiled softly. “You already do. Your music touches so many people, Jihoon. Including me.”

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words. “What about you? What does it mean to you?”

Y/N took a moment to think before answering. “It’s about connection. Every lyric, every note… it’s a way to reach people, to let them know they’re not alone. I think that’s why I love working with you. You get that.”

For a moment, Jihoon was at a loss for words. Her sincerity, her openness—it was something he wasn’t used to but found himself drawn to.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I don’t say this often, but… you’ve changed the way I look at things. Working with you—it’s made me realize how much more music can be when it’s shared.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “You don’t know how much that means to me, coming from you.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. But before either of them could say more, Jihoon’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

The next morning, as they arrived at the practice room, the other members were already there. Hoshi immediately noticed the way Jihoon and Y/N seemed closer than usual.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two.

“Nothing happened,” Jihoon replied quickly, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, however, laughed. “We were just working on music. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

The members didn’t buy it, but they let it go—for now.

Later that week, the group had a fan meeting, and Y/N was invited as a special guest to perform their duet live for the first time since its release. The fans erupted into cheers as Jihoon and Y/N took the stage together, their voices blending seamlessly as they sang.

During the performance, Jihoon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N, her presence radiating warmth and confidence. He realized that what had started as a professional partnership had grown into something far more personal.

After the performance, as they stood backstage, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes sparkling. “That was incredible. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before replying. “Thank you… for everything.”

Y/N smiled, her hand lightly brushing his arm. And in that moment, Jihoon knew that whatever this was between them—friendship, partnership, or something more—he wasn’t ready to let it go.

A few days after their fan meeting, the duet performance went viral. Clips of Jihoon and Y/N on stage, their undeniable chemistry and harmonies, flooded social media. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how perfectly their voices blended and how natural their interactions seemed.

The buzz didn’t go unnoticed by SEVENTEEN.

“Have you seen the comments?” Seungkwan said, shoving his phone in front of Jihoon’s face during a break in practice.

Jihoon glanced at the screen, where fans had flooded the comments section with messages like:

“They’re perfect together!”

“Jihoon and Y/N need to release a whole album together!”

“Am I the only one who feels like there’s more to their story?”

Jihoon sighed, pushing the phone away. “It’s just the fans. They like to speculate.”

“But they’re not wrong,” Mingyu chimed in with a sly grin.

“Not you too,” Jihoon groaned.

That evening, Y/N visited the dorm for what was supposed to be a casual hangout. As usual, the members couldn’t help but stir the pot.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan started, leaning casually against the couch, “what’s it like being the most shipped person with Jihoon right now?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Hoshi said, joining in. “The fans are calling you the ‘power duo.’ Some are even saying you’re a better fit than us!”

“Don’t listen to them,” Jihoon muttered, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, recovering from her initial shock, laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a compliment? I mean, Jihoon is an incredible artist, so I’m honored.”

The room erupted in exaggerated “oohs,” with Seungkwan dramatically fanning Jihoon. “Did you hear that? She called you incredible!”

Jihoon buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why do I even let you all talk?”

Despite the teasing, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at Y/N’s words. She always had a way of making him feel seen—not just as an artist but as a person.

Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone on the dorm balcony, overlooking the city lights.

“It’s been a wild night, huh?” Y/N said, leaning against the railing.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “Yeah. I didn’t expect any of this when we started working together.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But I’m glad it happened. I’ve learned so much—not just about music but about myself.”

Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “You’ve changed a lot of things for me, too. I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to remind me why I love what I do.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his voice. “Jihoon… I—”

Before she could finish, the balcony door slid open, and Mingyu stuck his head out. “Hey, are you two having a moment? Because we’ve got snacks inside.”

Y/N burst out laughing, while Jihoon groaned. “You have the worst timing, Mingyu.”

Mingyu grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As the night went on, the teasing and camaraderie continued, but something had shifted between Jihoon and Y/N. Though unspoken, there was an understanding growing between them—one that neither was ready to confront just yet but couldn’t deny any longer.

And as Jihoon watched Y/N laughing with his members, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something he’d been searching for without even realizing it.

The weeks passed, and Jihoon found himself unable to shake the feeling that had been slowly growing inside him. Every time Y/N smiled, every time their eyes met during a quiet moment, something in his chest fluttered. He had always been someone who let his music speak for him, but this time, it wasn’t enough just to express himself through lyrics. He needed to tell her, to be vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been with anyone before.

But how?

It was during a late-night studio session, after everyone else had left for the day, that Jihoon decided to do something about it. He had spent hours working on the song, tweaking the melody, perfecting the lyrics, and now it was ready.

The track wasn’t like anything he had made before. It was softer, more personal, and every note seemed to come straight from his heart. He had poured his feelings into it, capturing the emotions that he couldn’t say out loud. It was a love song. And the subject of it? None other than Y/N.

The next day, Jihoon invited Y/N to the studio under the guise of working on new material. She arrived, always eager to help or collaborate, but there was something different about Jihoon’s demeanor that caught her attention.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked into the studio. “You’ve been acting a little… off lately.”

Jihoon avoided her gaze, fiddling with the soundboard for a moment. “I… I have something I want to play for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. “A new song?”

He nodded, his throat tightening slightly. “Yeah. But it’s… different.”

Y/N walked over to him and sat down, her eyes fixed on him. “I’m all ears, Jihoon.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment longer before hitting play. The soft, melodic intro filled the room, and Y/N was immediately drawn into the haunting beauty of the song. As the lyrics began, she felt a stirring in her chest. The song felt… personal. Deeply personal.

She listened intently, her heart racing as the chorus hit, and Jihoon’s voice filled the space:

“I didn’t know how to say it, but now I know it’s true, Every moment with you feels like I’ve found something new. In the silence, in the music, in the things I never said, I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you, And I can’t take it back.”

The song went on, each lyric pulling Y/N deeper into the emotions Jihoon had poured into it. By the end, the room was thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. The music faded, and for a few moments, there was silence.

Y/N slowly turned to look at Jihoon, her eyes wide with realization. “Jihoon… that song…”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s for you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had known there was something between them, something that had grown over time, but hearing him express it so clearly, through music, felt like a confession she hadn’t expected.

“Jihoon…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He finally met her gaze, his eyes vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to tell myself I was just… overthinking. But every time you’re near, every time you smile, it feels like something more. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. And I couldn’t hide it anymore. Not after writing this song for you.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she processed his words, her own emotions swirling within her. She had felt it too—the connection, the way everything felt more meaningful when they were together. But hearing him say it out loud made it all so real.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Jihoon.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step toward her as well. “Really?”

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been too afraid to admit it, but… I’ve been falling for you, too. Maybe I didn’t want to admit it because I didn’t know if you felt the same, but… I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The tension that had built between them in the past few months suddenly lifted. Jihoon, overcome with relief and happiness, took her hand gently.

“Then… do you think we can figure this out together?” he asked softly.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I’d like that very much.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything else. The weight of the confession hung in the air, but the silence felt comfortable, like a shared understanding.

Jihoon squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t know what comes next, but I want to find out with you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

And as they stood there, hand in hand, Jihoon knew that this song, the one that had started as a way to express his feelings, was just the beginning of a new chapter for them both.

For a few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. They weren’t intentionally hiding it, but neither of them was ready to face the whirlwind of teasing that would inevitably come from SEVENTEEN.

However, secrets rarely lasted long in a group as close-knit and nosy as SEVENTEEN.

It all started during a practice session. Jihoon had left his phone on the bench while the group worked through choreography, and a text from Y/N popped up on the screen:

Y/N: Can’t wait to see you tonight ❤️

Seungkwan, ever the observant one, noticed the notification first. “Oh? Hyung, care to explain this?” he asked, holding up the phone with a mischievous grin.

Jihoon froze mid-step, his face instantly turning crimson. “Give me that!” he snapped, rushing over to grab the phone.

But it was too late. Seungkwan had already shared the discovery with Hoshi and Jeonghan, who were now looking at Jihoon with matching expressions of glee.

“‘Can’t wait to see you tonight?’” Jeonghan teased, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Jihoon, do you have plans we should know about?”

The rest of the group quickly caught on, gathering around as Jihoon struggled to come up with an excuse.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” Hoshi said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like something to me.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Mingyu blurted out. The room went silent for a moment as everyone processed the possibility.

Jihoon sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Fine. Yes. It’s Y/N. We’re… dating.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“What?!” Seungkwan exclaimed, looking both shocked and delighted. “When did this happen?”

“Jihoon, you sly fox!” Jeonghan said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re dating Y/N, and you didn’t tell us?” Dino pouted. “I thought we were close!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay? It’s still new, and we didn’t want any unnecessary attention.”

Joshua, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. “Guys, let’s not overwhelm him. It’s Jihoon, after all. This must’ve taken a lot for him to admit.”

“Yeah,” DK added, grinning. “But seriously, Hyung, we’re happy for you. Y/N’s great.”

“She’s not just great,” Minghao said thoughtfully. “She fits in with us, and most importantly, she brings out a side of you we don’t see often. It’s nice.”

Jihoon looked around at his members, their teasing replaced with genuine support, and felt a wave of relief. “Thanks, guys. Just… keep it low-key, okay? We’re not ready for everyone to know yet.”

The group collectively agreed, though Jihoon wasn’t sure he trusted their definition of “low-key.”

That evening, Jihoon met Y/N at their usual spot in the studio. She could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.

“What happened?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They know,” Jihoon said, sitting beside her.

“Who knows?”

“SEVENTEEN,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh no. How bad was it?”

Jihoon chuckled despite himself. “About as chaotic as you’d expect. But… they’re happy for us. They promised to keep it a secret, though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Y/N smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen. They’re your family, Jihoon. And honestly, I don’t mind if they know. I like being part of your world.”

Jihoon squeezed her hand, his heart swelling at her words. “You’re more than just part of it, Y/N. You’ve made it better.”

The next day, when Y/N visited the dorm for dinner, the teasing resumed, but it was all in good fun.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile, “what’s it like dating our Jihoon? Is he as romantic as he is in his songs?”

Y/N laughed, glancing at Jihoon, who looked like he wanted to disappear. “He’s perfect,” she said simply, her sincerity making Jihoon’s face flush even more.

The room erupted into cheers and playful jabs, but beneath the chaos, there was a palpable warmth. SEVENTEEN was more than a group—they were a family. And now, Y/N was part of that family, too.

As the night wore on, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful. For his members, for their unwavering support, and most of all, for Y/N, who had somehow become the piece he hadn’t realized was missing from his life.

A few weeks after SEVENTEEN’s comeback promotions wrapped up, Jihoon surprised fans with the announcement of a solo track, titled “Only for You.” The anticipation was palpable, especially after fans connected the dots between the mysterious teasers and Jihoon’s recent duet with Y/N.

When the song finally dropped, it was an instant hit. A tender and emotional ballad, the lyrics told the story of someone realizing they’ve found the one person who completes them. Jihoon’s heartfelt delivery struck a chord with listeners, but eagle-eyed fans noticed something peculiar.

The release coincided with a few subtle interactions between Jihoon and Y/N on social media. Comments like:

“This song feels so personal… is it inspired by someone special?”

“The vibe reminds me of Jihoon and Y/N’s duet. Are we missing something?”

“Wait a second… some of these lyrics feel like they match things Y/N said in interviews!”

The speculation ramped up a notch when, only a few days later, Y/N teased her own solo track, “Echo of You.”

When Y/N’s song dropped, fans were quick to notice that it felt like a reply to Jihoon’s. While Jihoon’s track spoke of falling for someone who brought light into his life, Y/N’s lyrics told the story of being seen and loved for who she truly was.

Lines like:

“I thought I was just a shadow, but your light made me shine.”

“Every melody you wrote felt like a message just for me.”

Fans flooded social media with theories.

“Wait, these songs feel connected. Are they… about each other?”

“Woozi's ‘Only for You’ and Y/N’s ‘Echo of You’ are like two sides of the same love story.”

“If this is real, I’ll cry. They’re perfect together!”

The speculation reached its peak when a fan-made mashup of the two songs went viral, seamlessly blending the tracks into a duet that felt like it was meant to be.

Back at SEVENTEEN’s dorm, the members couldn’t help but join the buzz.

“So,” Seungkwan started, holding up his phone, “the fans are catching on.”

Jihoon groaned, slumping onto the couch. “I knew this would happen.”

“I mean, they’re not wrong,” Jeonghan said, smirking. “The songs do sound like they’re talking to each other.”

Y/N, who had been invited over for dinner, sat beside Jihoon, trying (and failing) to suppress her laughter. “It’s kind of impressive how quickly they picked up on it.”

Joshua leaned forward, grinning. “Are you two going to say anything? Or just let the fans go wild with their theories?”

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. “What do you think?” he asked her.

Y/N smiled softly. “I don’t mind letting them wonder for now. I like that the songs are just ours, even if people are curious.”

The members all groaned in mock frustration.

“You’re both too private for your own good,” Mingyu teased. “Just admit it already and save us the headache!”

“Admit what?” Jihoon shot back, feigning innocence.

“That you two are the main characters in the greatest musical love story ever told,” Hoshi declared dramatically, earning laughter from the group.

Despite the teasing, Jihoon and Y/N decided to keep quiet, letting their music speak for them. The buzz around their songs only grew, with both tracks climbing the charts and becoming fan favorites.

During a live Q&A, Jihoon was inevitably asked about the inspiration for “Only for You.”

“It’s about someone who changed the way I see the world,” he said simply, his expression soft.

When Y/N was asked a similar question about “Echo of You,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s a song about gratitude and love—for someone who helped me realize my worth.”

The fans didn’t need anything more. To them, the connection between the songs—and their creators—was obvious.

One evening, as they sat together in Jihoon’s studio, Y/N turned to him with a playful smile. “So, do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I think they know. They’re just waiting for us to say it out loud.”

“And when do you think we should?” she asked, tilting her head.

Jihoon thought for a moment before replying, his voice warm. “Maybe someday. But for now, I like that the songs tell our story. It feels… special.”

Y/N leaned closer, her hand resting on his. “I like that too.”

The weeks following the dual song releases were a whirlwind. Both tracks dominated the charts, and the fan theories only grew more elaborate. Mashups, fan edits, and endless analysis filled the internet, with fans piecing together subtle interactions and shared moments.

Despite their best efforts to stay under the radar, the buzz became too loud to ignore. SEVENTEEN’s members didn’t make it any easier, constantly dropping playful hints during interviews and live streams.

One day, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves at a joint event where multiple HYBE artists were present. It was a casual, live-streamed Q&A session, and the energy in the room was lively. Fans flooded the chat with questions about collaborations, their music, and, of course, the connection between Jihoon’s and Y/N’s songs.

The host, clearly aware of the buzz, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Woozi-shi and Y/N-shi,” they began, a mischievous glint in their eye. “The fans have been talking nonstop about how your songs seem… connected. Care to comment?”

Jihoon, caught off guard, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze with a small, encouraging smile, her eyes silently asking, Are you ready?

He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the mic. “Well,” he started, his voice calm but tinged with nervousness, “the fans aren’t wrong. The songs are connected.”

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone—including the other artists—hanging on his every word.

Y/N chimed in, her tone light but honest. “We didn’t plan for it to be a big mystery. We just wrote from our hearts. And, well… our hearts were in the same place.”

The host’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying—”

Jihoon nodded, cutting them off gently. “Y/N and I… we’re together. And the songs were our way of telling that story without saying it outright.”

The room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few playful whistles from SEVENTEEN and the other HYBE artists. The fans watching the live stream went wild, the chat filling with messages like:

“I KNEW IT!”

“This is the best plot twist ever!”

“Our musical power couple!”

Later that evening, Jihoon and Y/N sat together backstage, scrolling through the flood of messages on social media.

“Looks like the fans are taking it well,” Y/N said, laughing as she read a particularly enthusiastic comment.

Jihoon smiled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much. They seem… happy for us.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Of course they are. We’ve been honest in the best way we know how—through our music.”

Jihoon wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. “I’m glad we finally said it. It feels good not to hide anymore.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

As the weeks passed, their relationship became a beloved story among fans. Jihoon and Y/N didn’t share much beyond their music and occasional glimpses of their dynamic, but their authenticity resonated with everyone.

Their next collaboration—a duet explicitly written as a continuation of their story—became one of the most anticipated releases of the year, cementing their status as not just two incredible artists but as a couple who had found love in the heart of their shared passion.

And as Jihoon often said in interviews, with a small, knowing smile: “It all started with a song.”

The announcement of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship didn’t just excite fans; it gave SEVENTEEN endless new material to tease their usually reserved member. And, of course, they weren’t going to let the opportunity go to waste during their next content shoot.

The group was filming an episode of their popular variety show, “GOING SEVENTEEN,” and the theme for the day was a mock courtroom trial where members had to defend themselves against outrageous (and often ridiculous) accusations.

As the camera rolled, Jeonghan smirked, ready to unleash chaos. “Today, I bring a serious accusation against Jihoon,” he began, standing dramatically as the self-appointed prosecutor.

Jihoon, sitting at the “defendant’s” table, raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Jeonghan held up an imaginary piece of paper, squinting at it for effect. “Jihoon, you’ve been accused of… secretly writing love songs instead of working on group projects. How do you plead?”

The room erupted in laughter, with Seungkwan clapping his hands. “Guilty! We all know it’s true!”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes!” Hoshi chimed in, his grin practically splitting his face. “We’ve all noticed you humming random melodies lately. Are those for us, or… someone else?”

The teasing didn’t stop there. As the trial continued, the members took turns “presenting evidence.”

Mingyu dramatically placed a notebook on the table. “Exhibit A: Jihoon’s lyric book. Do we need to open it to find the word ‘Y/N’ written a hundred times?”

Dino jumped in, mimicking an investigator. “Exhibit B: The way Jihoon smiles at his phone during breaks. Suspicious behavior if you ask me.”

Even the usually quiet Wonwoo joined in. “Exhibit C: The recent duet with Y/N. We all heard it. It’s basically a confession set to music.”

By this point, Jihoon’s face was a deep shade of red, though he couldn’t help but chuckle.

During a break in filming, Joshua leaned over to Jihoon. “You know, they’re only teasing because they’re happy for you, right?”

“I know,” Jihoon replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But they’re relentless.”

“Hey, it’s good content,” Joshua said with a wink. “The fans will love it.”

Later in the shoot, the tables turned when it was Jihoon’s chance to act as the judge. He banged the gavel dramatically. “I have an accusation of my own,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

The members gasped in mock horror.

“I accuse SEVENTEEN of being the nosiest group in the industry,” Jihoon declared, pointing at them one by one. “Always prying, always teasing. How do you plead?”

“Guilty!” Seungkwan shouted, raising his hands in surrender. “But we do it out of love!”

Hoshi stood up, grinning. “Your Honor, I’d like to counter-accuse. Jihoon is guilty of smiling more these days. We all know the reason why.”

The room burst into laughter once again, and Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head, a reluctant smile on his face.

As the shoot wrapped up, the director praised the group for their energy and humor. The episode, once edited, was full of golden moments that had fans laughing and cooing over SEVENTEEN’s antics.

And while Jihoon might have been the butt of the jokes, the camaraderie and genuine affection from his members shone through.

In the comments section of the uploaded episode, fans were quick to notice the playful dynamic:

“SEVENTEEN teasing Jihoon about Y/N is peak family energy!”

“Jihoon trying to act annoyed but secretly loving it is so cute.”

“The way they all support him in their own chaotic way makes me emotional.”

That evening, as Jihoon returned to his studio, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N:

Y/N: Saw the episode preview. They’re so obvious, lol.

Jihoon smiled, typing back:

Jihoon: They’re impossible. But at least they’re on our side.

Y/N: Always. And so am I.

As he leaned back in his chair, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Y/N, but for the family he’d found in SEVENTEEN.

Even if they never let him live it down.

220 notes · View notes

lunaritex · 3 months ago

Text

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ SOUND OF PRADA 𖤐. — lee heeseung

↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and heeseung are idols here, reader is female, suggestive content, they made out in public, established relationship.

↺ FROM HYE: idk how to function normally after seeing that clip of heeseung drinking...

Tonight was the Sound of Prada event. You and your fellow group members were invited to attend the event, although your schedule for the day was packed tight, due to your group in the midst of promoting your new song. The moment the show ended, all of you were whisked back to the dorms to get changed into the outfits your manager had prepared for you. Your respective make-up artists were swift and efficient in their jobs, applying enough makeup on your faces before you set off for the event.

Nonetheless, you were excited to attend the event as you could finally meet your partner; Heeseung. Both of you had been busy running back and forth, occupied with your own schedules that you could not spare enough time for one another. Not even the daily video calls or texts was enough to satisfy you. Sighing, you rested your head against your member’s shoulder, deciding to get some shuteye before arriving at the event.

It did not take you long to reach your destination and as always, you were immediately met with a flurry of bright flashes from the press, cameras clicking non-stop as you took your first steps onto the red carpet. The air was charged with excitement, the soft hum of murmurs from onlookers growing louder as they recognized the idols before them. With graceful, practiced smiles, you and your group waved warmly at the crowd that had gathered, making eye contact and acknowledging the cheering fans as you moved toward the entrance.

As you reached the doors of the club, all of you paused briefly for a group photo, aligning yourselves as directed while flashes continued to illuminate your faces. After a few moments, the photographers nodded in satisfaction, allowing you to finally step inside, away from the spotlight and into the glamorous club atmosphere awaiting you. You moved to where the bar was located, helping yourself to one of the already poured drinks and leaned against the counter.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, recognising most of the faces and you acknowledged their presences with a simple nod of your head. As much as you wished to catch up with them, you were desperate to see Heeseung. Your eyes lit up when you saw his group entering, having to stop to get a group photo before they were granted freedom.

You waved your free hand about in the air, managing to catch his attention and he wasted no time in heading towards you. When he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms and embraced you in a hug. You had to hold your shot glass of whiskey high to prevent the liquid from spilling.

“There you are, I missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear.

You smiled and patted his back with your free hand. “I missed you too. I watched your performance. You did really well.”

Heeseung chuckled, reluctantly peeling himself away from you to take in your appearance. You saw how his eyes shamelessly drank in your figure from head to toe, no doubt entranced with how you looked tonight.

“Hey, eyes up here, pretty boy,” you teased, lifting his chin up with one finger, forcing him to make eye contact with you.

“It’s not my fault you look dashing tonight, my love. Come here,” he smiles, tugging you closer until your chest is directly pressed against his.

You have known him long enough to know what his motive was. Hence, you were not surprised when he leans down to capture your lips with his. You blindly placed the shot glass on the counter behind you, not caring about your surroundings as you allowed yourself to drown in the feeling of his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered close, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck as you played with his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands. Your action elicited a pleased sigh from him, hands snugly resting on your waist.

The kiss started slowly but soon Heeseung’s need for you grew stronger. At this point, you were firmly pressed against the counter and despite how there are countless people around you, none of you were bothered, too engrossed in the heat of the moment. You were starting to feel light-headed with the need of oxygen rising. You ended up breaking the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva that snapped into half when you leaned back slightly. The only form of warning you get is the way Heeseung’s eyes darkened at your current state before he dives back in again.

He crashed his lips against yours and unlike before, this was more intense and desperate. It was enough to make your head spin. You gasped against his mouth, tightening your grip on his shoulders. The way he kissed you feels like he was trying to devour you, like a predator having caught its prey and there was no way he was letting you go, not when he finally has you in his arms after what felt like an eternity.

His tongue forcefully parted your lips, earning a mix of a whine and moan from you that was eagerly swallowed by him. You could not keep up with his pace, finding your body slowly growing pliant in his arms.

“Hee-Heeseung—, wait wait, can’t—breathe,” you gasped through the kiss, fingers now gripping onto the front of his black jacket. No matter how far you leaned back, Heeseung kept chasing after your lips, as if he could never get enough of your addictive taste.

Finally, he pulled back, his face close enough for you to feel his warm breath against your skin. His gaze was intense, his smirk filled with satisfaction as he took in your dazed expression. You automatically tilted your head back when Heeseung planted butterfly kisses down your jaw. Shivers ran down your spine when he teasingly nipped at your skin before soothing the area with his tongue, creating a pool of heat in your stomach.

Heeseung pulled away from your neck and you gulped at the sight of nothing but desire written all over his face. Smirking, he leans in to purposefully whisper into your ears, hands rubbing circles through the fabric of your dress.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we? I think it’s time to have our much-needed alone time.”

You nodded, allowing him to drag you out of the club from the back entrance. You did not have the time to inform your members of your whereabouts but you were sure of one thing: that you will definitely have problems walking properly tomorrow.

#ꨄ writings #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x y/n #lee heeseung x you #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n

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naruhina-2024 · 3 months ago

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🎑 Hello all! It is that time! This December 2024 we are officially bringing you NaruHina 2024. We hope you enjoy the prompts, special events and more! This year we will even have a, 'Naruto: The Last' movie night on discord!

Each week I will release the prompts listing for that week.

🎑 Special Events: Event Icon Ribbon 🪔 Creator Spotlight 🪔 Secret Santa 🪔 Live Q&A 🪔 TBA

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🪔 Open to all kinds of content and genre! Artwork, Graphics, Fanfics, AMVs, essays, angst, NSFW, fluff, anything under the sun!

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🪔 Kindly include #nhmonth2024 and/ or #nhmonth in your first five tags to help us monitor and reblog/retweet your submissions.

🪔 Just a gentle reminder that any form of ship/character bashing are not allowed. Harassment towards anyone is not tolerated. Please be respectful and observed peace around everyone.

🪔 Commissioned work are allowed as long as the artist/ writer permitted use, properly acknowledged, and credited. Reposts and content theft will be ignored; please bear in mind to avoid doing so.

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🪔 Twitter users may tag our twitter mod @Opal or may use visit @NaruHina2024 (These are twitter tags)

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🎑 In case I missed out on your post, feel free to hit up the event moderator: @opal-chan

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🎑 Enjoy the event everyone! I hope you have a good time!

#naruhina #nhmonth2024 #nhmonth #naruhina2024 #nh2024 #naruto #narutoevents2024 #hinata hyuga

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starshipsofstarlord · 2 years ago

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Possession

klaus mikaelson works other tvd works masterlist

Summary -> klaus hates watching you talk with another man, even if it is his brother. and it his duty as the man that owns you to remind you of whom you belong to (1.4k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, possessiveness, some toxicity, jealousy, brief mentions of death and turning, crying

Venom was poised on Klaus’ tongue as he watched his beloved, glaring daggers at her form as she watched Y/N laugh at something dismal that one of his brothers had said. She was supposed to remember that she belonged to him, she was his mere little human that was his own personal slave for affection.

He sat there, nostrils flaring, as he sipped out of the rich flute, placing it upon the side table before he hauled himself to his feet, stalking toward his girl. She was his, and she wasn’t allowed to forget that, he didn’t care if she was just being friendly, any niceties were reserved for him alone. Elijah sensed the homicidal distress radiating from his sibling, and chose it best to remain by Y/N’s side as Niklaus reached them. “Brother.” He greeted him, bowing his head respectively at the younger one of their family.

Despite the politeness, Klaus wished to scorn the smile that Elijah had caused from Y/N’s face; he had grown more possessive since becoming a hybrid and unlocking his werewolf side. “Get away from my woman, now.” He spoke slowly, reaching towards Y/N and dragging her into his arms as she gently shook. “It’s okay love, I’m here now. Cling to me all you want.”

And she did, her hands balling up the fabric of his shirt as her face rested lowly on his chest, remaining silent as Klaus forbade his brother from sharing the presence of them both in his art room. Because she was his little masterpiece that he had trained to mould around himself, he raised her chin so she was forced to look up at him, their eyes strongly meeting. Y/N knew that she would be in trouble if she broke the visual contact, she had to obey him, he was the one that controlled this relationship, and most times than not her too.

“You belong to me, do you understand that Y/N?” His interrogative enquiry made her physically gulp, but respectfully she nodded at the Original, allowing him to cradle her jaw in his powerful hands until they drifted down her neck, posing a little pressure to the area. “That’s my good girl.” He praised her, which made her utter an almost inaudible whimper, that made him smirk to himself. Oh, how he should have made Elijah stay so that he could witness how she folded under his demeanour, and how she knew that she was all his.

“Klaus.”

“That’s right, I want that to be the only name that every slips out from your pretty mouth.” He responded, leading her backwards until her back hit a wet canvas, the stroke of his artistic touch adorning the back of her clothing. “Can you do that love, can you only say my name for all eternity.” He still had yet to turn her, he was waiting until they were both ready for that level of commitment, but for now he was content looming above her, blocking her shadow from the eyes of anyone else.

“Yes. Of course, it shan’t be a problem.” He allowed her hands to trail up upon his shoulders, he walked his stature farther into her, trapping her against the material of the splattered canvas. “That’s my girl.” He smiled adoringly at her, meeting her lips lightly with his own before his actions escalated, and he grew hungrier for her touch. His tongue swept within her gasping mouth, holding her still so that he could execute his calculated attack.

Without need of any compliance from his little object, he raised her dress over her head, finding her completely nude underneath, just the way that he liked her to be. And perhaps that was a reason of many as to why he was startled by the sight of her and Elijah harmlessly conversing. He knew that whenever he wanted, her body was conveniently always prepared for him to take her as he pleased, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

Klaus tossed off his long sleeved shirt, exploiting his exterior to his girl who could only trail her hand down his toned stomach, but he grasped her wrist, shoving it away as he continued to strip down to his birthday suit. And now they were both undressed and ready for what he wanted, Y/N moaned surprised yet not by how he effortlessly hoisted her into his arms, and swooned her body against the wall beside them, his fingertips slipping down and down until they were teasing at her wet entrance.

They easily glided into Y/N’s walls, probing her insides with his long digits, two precisely, as he rested his nose into the crook of her neck, smelling how her blood boiled with arousal and finding it relaxing at how her pulse harshly raised from the contact he granted her with. “Look at how ready your body always is for me, it’s like you were made for me. My pretty little thing.” His words did something to Y/N, made her insides twist as he supplied her with the most sufficient way that he could show her his love.

A whine tore out from Y/N’s throat as he respectfully removed his fingers, leaving her feel empty and dismal in his predator like grasp. However the emptiness was soon filled as he pushed his cock into her cunt, stretching her until she felt perfectly full. It must have been some sick joke, he thought to himself and hid his deviant chuckle in the rasp of a groan; it was really as though his mother had endured she was born into the world in the time he needed her most. He was all he wanted, and it was his duty to ensure that Y/N felt the same way about him.

If she didn’t then there would be nothing to stop all hell from breaking loose, sincerely by the hybrid of course. But he was convinced he had nothing to worry about considering the present as he fucked her without an inkling of guilt or compassion for the fact that one day he would make her like him. “Klaus, holy fuck.” Her head collided back into the wall, no doubt giving her an ache within her head, but he only found it that much more attractive as she became significantly more dazed from the hit on her noggin and the strength behind his starved thrusts.

“Hardly holy.” Klaus corrected her, he was the deepest sin that she had ever committed, and ever would. She was wrapped around him like a shawl, clinging onto dear life until she allowed him to take the humanity of it away. She passionately kissed his neck, biting it as though she was growing her vampiric appetite before she actually turned. “Though your cunt feels like heaven.” He muttered, smirking as he thought that nobody would every see her in this state. This was his Y/N, the goddess of his greediest desires, and he would never allow her to slip away.

“Can I cum, Klaus, please?” There were tears of diamond stimulation in Y/N’s gorgeous eyes, it was as though she was compelled by his swift and jarring movements, pleading for his permission to let her release the sparking build up that was daring to explode within her body. “Please, please, please. Want to cum all over your perfect cock.” Oh did she now? Well that was no surprise, it never was, and she always held it together until he allowed her to release, as she knew the consequences if she didn’t. It wasn’t her orgasm, it belonged to him, and she wasn’t allowed it unless he granted her the lustful wish that was laced elegantly in her mind.

“Cum for me Y/N, I want to feel you cum all over me love.” Not even an instant passed and he felt her walls contract gratefully around him, washing her everlasting attraction for the man that owned her onto his length. Once she had finished her orgasmic bliss, he only fucked her harder, causing tears to dribble from her eyes, not stopping until he filled her to the hilt and emptied his cum deep within her. And although they had both finished he refused to put Y/N down, he just wanted to hold her, in this haven alone, sweetly stroking her hair as he thought that he was the luckiest man undead. He had her, and she was all his.

#klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikealson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus x reader #klaus smut #tvd smut #to smut #the originals x reader #the orignals smut #vampire diaries smut #the vampire diaries x reader

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bossbtch1 · 1 year ago

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Against All Odds part 2

The GIFs are not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : After the ‘incident’ on the gym with Bucky, now you had left with some unanswered questions about your relationship with him. You decided to confront him about it.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

General tags : Slight smut and pure angst

TW: Strong language, Masturbation (f), Hurt, Heavy angst, Bucky an asshole

Word Count: 7k

A/N : Hey there! Guess who's back? This is the long-awaited Part 2. My apologies for the delay; I've revised the plot about three times to ensure its genuinely angsty. It's about to get tougher before it gets better! Get ready for the emotional rollercoaster!

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 2 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then, your heart skipped a beat as the doorknob turned.

The person outside attempted to open the door, but they couldn’t. Relief flooded you, thank God Bucky had locked the door. "Is someone in here? You know you can’t lock the door," the voice outside the room chastised, followed by insistent knocks.

"Fuck." Bucky muttered, frustration etched on his face. "Who's interrupting us now?" He released you from his embrace, standing up abruptly. "We need to leave." His hand found yours, offering support as he helped you to your feet.

Your legs felt wobbly, but Bucky steadied you as he handed over your clothes. "Here," he said, helping you slip into them. "Put these on."

Bucky was about to pulled up his pants, when he saw your panties in his hand. A mischievous smile formed on his lips. "Hold still."

Confused, you questioned, "What are you doing?"

He playfully stuffed your panties into his pocket. "I'm keeping these as a little souvenir."

"You can't just take those!" you protested, your face flushing with embarrassment.

Bucky simply shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "Sure, I can," he said, enjoying the playful banter despite the urgency of the situation.

Before you could retort, the voice from outside grew more impatient. "Hey! I can hear you in there. I'm coming in if you don't answer me," it warned, the threat clear in its tone.

Bucky's expression changed, growing serious as the sound of keys jiggling reached his ears. With a swift nod, you both understood it was time to make your escape.

"We have to go. Now." He said, ushering you towards the other exit, his arm protectively wrapping around you. "Just keep quiet."

You finished putting your clothes back on. Bucky held onto you as he walked across the room, looking for your shoes. You were about to put on your shoes, when you heard the same person call out. You could hear he was picking keys to opened the door.

Bucky glanced over at the door. "He’s going see us. We should go."

But you halted his hasty retreat, pulling him back toward you. "Bucky, wait," you said, you blushed. "I don't think I can walk." You admitted.

He grinned, a look of pure male satisfaction on his face. "Here hop on," he turned his back to you. "I'll give you a piggyback ride."

"What? No, that's embarrassing." you protested, even though you really did need help walking. You felt stupid for feeling so excited, but the thought of being carried by him, made your stomach flutter.

Bucky was persistent. "C'mon, I’ll carry you." he motioned for you to climb onto his back.

"Bucky... I don’t know...," You argued, blushing as you looked down at the ground.

"Oh, please." Bucky scoffed. "I can bench press 500 pounds without breaking a sweat. You weigh nothing to me." He reassured you, his arms outstretched as he bent down.

"Fine," you gave in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hopped onto his back. Bucky hoisted you up, wrapping his hands underneath your thighs. "This is kind of weird."

"You better hold on tight." He grabbed your shoes with him and went to the back door. "Ready?"

“Yeah.” You tightened your arms around him.

Then you remember, "Wait! I haven't got my phone. It's still on the floor." You protested.

Bucky groaned in exasperation. "You know, that's what's going to get us caught."

"Yes, but then they’ll know it was me in here. Turn around and grab my phone.” You ordered him. He did as you told him even though he wasn’t happy about it, gabbing your phone from the floor.

Bucky started walking towards the door. The sound of keys were being turned, it looked like he found the key. "Hurry, Buck!" You said to him.

"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

He pushed the door open and stepped out. You had made it halfway through the alleyway when you saw someone coming. "Shit, run."

Bucky bolted down the alley, with you holding onto him. You both were safe until you reached the elevator, and then you could relax. Once you inside the elevator, Bucky kept you perched on his back. He refused to let you go until the doors closed.

Are we good now?" you asked, your voice still tinged with the adrenaline from the escape.

"Yes," Bucky answered. "We're good now."

"You can put me down now, Bucky." You suggested.

"You sure?" He looked back at you. "You're not as heavy as I thought."

"Gee, thanks," you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly as he carefully lowered you to the ground. You reached up and felt how your hair had become all tangled. Your lips were swollen from his kisses. And you couldn't even begin to imagine what your eyes looked like.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, a weary smile gracing your lips as you recalled the unconventional piggyback escape.

"Anytime, doll," Bucky responded with a hint of amusement, his relief palpable.

You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath.

"Hey," Bucky said, his voice softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?"

You offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." However, curiosity crept into your voice, "But earlier, when we were... interrupted. Who was it?"

Bucky hesitated before admitting, "No one, I was just messing with you."

A wave of relief washed over you upon hearing his words. You stood next to each other, neither one of you saying a word. The air between you was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. You were glad you had finally slept with him. You had wanted it for a while now, but he was so hard to read.

You wondered what happened now. Would things be awkward between the two of you? Would he pretend like nothing happened?

You were about to break the silence when the elevator door slid open, interrupting your thoughts.

"After you," Bucky said, offering a gallant gesture, indicating for you to exit first.

"Thank you," you replied, stepping out of the elevator. Bucky followed you, and you both began your walk down the corridor in the direction of your room.

In the midst of the silence, Bucky took a deep breath, as if mustering the words he wanted to say. "Listen, Y/N."

You turned to him. "Yes?" you responded, ready for the conversation you knew was coming.

However, as Bucky was about to speak, Steve entered the compound, heading down the same hallway toward both of you. A twinge of frustration shot through you as you silently cursed Steve for his untimely intrusion, just when the conversation appeared ready to take a more serious turn.

You couldn't help but wonder, 'What is he doing here?' as your irritation simmered beneath the surface.

"Y/N, about—" Bucky started again, his words cut off as you held up a hand.

"Hold that thought," you interrupted him, your gaze fixated down the hall where Steve was approaching.

"What's wrong?"

"Steve's coming," you replied, your irritation evident. The interruption was untimely, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the universe's sense of timing.

Bucky followed your gaze, and his face fell as soon as he saw his friend. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

You both watched as Steve drew nearer, his pace slowing down as he approached you and Bucky. "Hi, Buck," Steve greeted his friend, patting him on the shoulder. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he glanced over at you, then back at Bucky. “I thought you left hours ago."

"I did, but I had some stuff to take care of," Bucky replied swiftly, his expression unreadable. You sensed an immediate shift in Bucky's demeanor, a return to his cold, distant self in the presence of his friend.

You were about to question Steve's unexpected presence, considering he was supposed to be on a mission with the rest of the team. However, Bucky voiced the query before you could. "Has the mission ended? Where’s everyone?"

Steve nodded, his expression serious. "It hasn't, but I had to drop something off, and I'll be heading out again soon," he explained. "Mostly things had been wrapped up, just one last loose end."

"Alright, good to hear," Bucky said, acknowledging the update.

Steve's brows knitted together, his lips curving into a frown. "You look a little disheveled. What were you doing?" he asked, his suspicion evident in his tone.

"We were training," you chimed in, your voice steady, a lie slipping from your lips without hesitation. The lie rolled off your tongue with ease, and technically, it wasn't entirely false – you and Bucky had indeed been ‘sparring’ earlier.

"Oh, I see." Steve nodded, seeming satisfied with your explanation. "I'm glad you're getting some one-on-one time.”

"It was a pretty intense session," Bucky replied, his tone flat, his eyes avoiding Steve's scrutinizing gaze. You couldn't help but conceal a smile; indeed, it had been an incredibly intense workout, but not in the way Steve was imagining.

Steve raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, alright. As long as it was a good workout," he said, his tone carrying a hint of suspicion, although he ultimately seemed to dismiss his concerns, not pressing further.

Steve then turned his attention to you, his expression laden with guilt. "Y/N, about the mission..." He hesitated, clearly burdened by a sense of responsibility, though you knew all too well there was nothing he could have done differently.

Your patience wore thin, not this again, you thought, feeling your mood sour. "It's okay, Steve," you said, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. "I know it wasn't your fault."

Steve managed a smile, though the unease lingered in his eyes. "Thanks, but I still feel responsible."

"Drop it, Steve. It really wasn't your fault," you insisted, your tone firm.

Sensing the conversation wasn't going anywhere productive, you decided to retreat to your room, especially now that Bucky seemed to have reverted to his usual self and showed no intention of continuing the discussion you'd been having.

"Well, I guess I should get going. See ya later," you said, offering a half-hearted wave before making your exit. As you walked away, a sense of disappointment settled in your chest.

You could barely walk, your thighs aching as you began to walked away. Unbeknownst to you, Steve's eyes followed your limping form, "What the hell happened to her?" he wondered aloud, his concern evident. You blushed deeply, hastening your pace in an attempt to avoid further scrutiny.

Overhearing Steve's question, Bucky replied, his tone nonchalant, "Don't know."

Once you made it to your room, you sighed in relief as you closed the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow.

"I can't believe we just had sex in the gym," you mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the pillow. Replaying the events in your head, you couldn't help but wonder about Bucky's behavior. "Why does he act differently around the team and then like this with me? What's his problem? Does he want me, or does he not want to be seen with me? Is he ashamed of me?"

You're worried that the whole "fuck and don't talk" thing is going to be the new thing. You couldn't help but wish it wouldn't happened in the future. It was great sex, but it would be even greater if there were actual feelings involved.

"What do I do?" You asked the pillow, knowing the inanimate object wouldn't respond. Exhausted from both the training session and your ‘sparring’ with Bucky was tiring you even more, you decided to take a nap, planning to contemplate your next steps once you had some rest.

The nap was short-lived when a soft knock echoed through the room. You rolled over in bed, and then you heard, "Y/N, are you asleep?" Wanda's gentle voice seeped through the door, causing you to frown as you sat up.

Recognizing it was Wanda, you got up from your bed and opened the door. "Oh, sorry, you were indeed asleep," she remarked, noticing your hair messed up. "I apologize for waking you up."

"I wanted your help," she said, her fingers fidgeting as she sat on the edge of your bed. "Vision's birthday is in two days," she explained, leaving you wondering how this concerned you. "And I want to give him something nice."

You let her finish, nodding in understanding. "I want to buy him this present, but I'm embarrassed," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You furrowed your brow, trying to grasp her dilemma. "Embarrassed?" you prodded, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I've never been to a sex store, I've never bought... you know... that sort of thing before. I thought if you could help me, it would be a bit less awkward," Wanda confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You were taken aback by her request, feeling both bewildered and unsure how to respond. "A sex store?"

She blushed deeper, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Well, Vision and I have been experimenting, and we've tried a lot of things. There's something new I want to try-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupted, raising your hand to stop her. "I don't want to know any details.” You put a hand on her shoulder. "What you do with Vis is your business, and I'm glad that you're both happy."

You continued, your confusion apparent, "Wanda, why are you asking me to help you? Why don't you ask Natasha?" You hesitated, admitting your own unease about the situation. The idea of going to a sex store was equally embarrassing to you.

"I trust you," Wanda said earnestly. "I love Natasha, but sometimes she's too wild, you know? She'd probably buy me something that would end up on the Pornhub." Her reasoning made sense, and you recalled Natasha's tendency to be overly candid about her sex life.

"Besides," she added, "Natasha's on a mission, and she won't be back in time. By the time she and Vision return, it'll be too late." Her plea was both desperate and hopeful, and you couldn't help but empathize with her situation.

"Why can't you just go alone?” You inquired, trying to grasp her hesitation.

"It’s too embarrassing.” Wanda admitted, her eyes dropping to her lap. "People recognize me, and I'm worried about what they'll say, what they'll think." She hesitated before continuing, "I mean, people don't recognize you."

Ouch that hurt, but you knew what she meant.

Wanda quickly realized her blunder. "Y/N, I'm so, so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that. You had a mask with your costume, and your name is a secret, so... I'm just nervous. I'm sorry," she apologized, her tone filled with regret.

You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "It's fine, I get what you mean," you reassured her, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't like the idea of people recognizing me either."

There was a brief pause as you considered her request. "Um... I don't know, Wanda. It's not really my area," you said, hesitant about getting involved in such a personal matter.

"Please, Y/N. It would really mean a lot to me. I'm nervous about going by myself. I've never bought these kinds of things," Wanda pleaded.

You were about to decline her request when she dropped a bombshell. "I wasn't going to use this on you, but you leave me no choice," she said, her tone taking a sly turn.

"Uh, okay? What did you see?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"You and Bucky," she smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I know all about the secret affair."

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard her words. Trying to maintain your composure, you feigned innocence. "What secret affair?" you responded, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Wanda continued to wear that knowing smirk. "I saw you and Bucky in the gym," she added, not letting you off the hook.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse quicken. "Oh, we were just sparring," you said, attempting to provide a reasonable explanation, though your voice sounded weaker than you had hoped.

Wanda gave you a look that said, 'Yeah, right.' "Sure, you were.” She continued to smirk, “If by mean sparring involving his tongue down your throat and his dick in you.”

Your eyes widened, and you stammered, "Wh-what?” Trying to play it off coolly, you added, “You must be mistaken. We didn't..."

Wanda chuckled, her amusement evident. “Don't lie to me. Bucky's eyes met mine." She teased, her playful demeanor breaking the tension in the room. She continued, "and you, my friend, looked so fucking hot."

You blushed harder, but you felt a bit proud, "Well, you can't blame me. Bucky's so hot and so damn sexy, he can make any girl go weak in the knees."

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, focusing on the more pressing issue at hand. "But seriously, how did you see us? Why aren't you on the mission? But Bucky said no one else entered the gym today." A flicker of confusion crossed your face as you recalled the locked door. "How did you even get in?"

Wanda chuckled, her amusement undeniably genuine. "Relax, you're like a storm of questions. Let me break it down for you." She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes glinting with mischief. "First, the mission? Turns out, I'm a bit too unpredictable for Tony's taste. He thinks my powers might mess up the plan. So, here I am, stuck in the compound."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Tony Stark's cautious approach. Your sympathy for her situation grew.

"And about the gym door," she continued, her tone casual, "well, that's where my power come in handy. I can open any door with a wave of my hand and step right in, undetected."

"I'm sorry," you said sincerely. "About the mission, I mean. I couldn't go either. Maybe that makes you feel a bit better."

Wanda offered you a warm and forgiving smile. "No need to apologize," she said, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hand. Leaning in closer, her tone took on a mischievous edge. "Now, let me continue," she said with a sly grin. "I was getting ready for my gym session earlier, and then I heard some interesting sounds coming from this room. I peeked in, saw you and Bucky having a heated argument, and I was about to step in."

You squirmed in your seat, mortified by her revelation.

Wanda continued with a sly grin, relishing the opportunity to tease you. "And then... he kissed you," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "and I instantly knew things were about to get intense. It was quite the show by the way,"

Your face turned various shades of red as you tried to process her unexpected presence during such an intimate moment.

She chuckled, her tone playful. "But here's the kicker, after Bucky noticed me, he didn't bother slowing down. He kept on kissing into you, while he was looking at me. That's when I decided it was my cue to make a graceful exit.”

You were taken aback by that revelation. "Wait so you only saw us kissing? You didn't see what happened next?" you asked.

Wanda raised an eyebrow and nodded. "That's right, just the kissing. But the way you were moaning, I had a pretty good idea of where things were headed."

You hid your face in your hands, unable to shake the embarrassment that had washed over you. "Wanda, you witch!" She was playing you so good. She was just guessing about it. If you played it cool, maybe you could salvage the situation. After all, Wanda didn't know the extent of your involvement with Bucky.

"What? Am I wrong?" she said, grinning slyly.

"Maybe?"

"Liar, I know I'm not." She said. “Now I know you fucked each other.” she concluded, raising an eyebrow mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.

"Okay, we were caught in the act," you sighed, defeated. You blushed a little, "What are you going to do about it? Tell on us?"

"I'm not going to tell anyone about you lovebirds, if that's what you're worried about," Wanda assured, her expression surprisingly understanding, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your embarrassment surged again, "Lovebirds? We're not..." you began, attempting to deny any romantic involvement.

She cut you off with a knowing grin. "Oh, please. I've seen enough romantic tension to recognize it when I see it. And you two? Well, let's just say, your 'sparring session' was more intense than any training I've witnessed."

"But it was probably a one-time thing." You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you knew it was a stretch. "That's just physical attraction. Nothing more."

"Really?" Wanda gave you a skeptikal looks. "It looked like there was something more going on between the two of you than just fucking. I saw the way he looked at you when no one was looking. It was different. Like you were his. Like he didn't want anyone to touch you, and you were his and only his."

"Wanda, are you serious?"

She nodded, "Yes! I know there's something more between you and Bucky, and I also know you have feelings for him, too."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I don't know... we haven't talked about it." You sighed, "I don't think he wants more than just sex, anyway."

Wanda gave you a confused look, "Are you serious? Did he tell you that?"

You shook your head slowly. "Well, no, not really. He hasn't mentioned anything, and it's not like we've had the chance to discuss our relationship."

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you this. Bucky will kill me if he finds out, but I'm going to say it anyway," she confessed. You chuckled inwardly, the most powerful Avenger, being cautious of Bucky.

Intrigued, you leaned in closer, your curiosity piqued. "What's going on?"

Wanda continued, "He told me not to tell you that I saw you two kissing because he didn't want you to worry about it. And when I asked where you were, he said you were probably sleeping, and I should let you be."

"He said that?" You felt your heart swell. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Wanda nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Yes, and that's why I'm sure there's more to it. I can see it in his eyes. I know he has feelings for you."

"He does? How did you know?"

"Y/N, I know people. I can read his mind if you want, but that would be an invasion of his privacy," Wanda explained, her tone reassuring yet firm.

"Yeah, of course. I won't let you do that," you quickly responded, appreciating her respect for boundaries. "But thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you telling me."

"Now, let's go back to my problem.” she said, steering the conversation back to her original request. “Come on, Y/N, please help me go to the sex store.”

You hesitated, considering her request. Then an idea struck you. "How about we just order online?" you suggested. "That way, neither of us has to go near the place. We can discreetly make the purchase online."

"That does sound like a better plan," she nodded eagerly. Then, with a hint of desperation in her voice, she added, "But, please, make sure it's addressed to you and not me. I really don't want anyone to know I made that purchase," she implored.

You raised a valid concern. "What about me? People will still find out if it's shipped to me."

Wanda leaned in, her voice low and reassuring. "But they don’t know your real name, Y/N. No one knows except us and the Avengers."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and reluctant agreement. "Fine," you conceded, rolling your eyes. "It will be addressed to me. But please, Wanda, promise me you will keep your mouth shut."

"Of course, Y/N, you can trust me. I won't breathe a word to anyone," Wanda assured you with a genuine sincerity. "Your secret's safe with me, I swear."

Relieved, you allowed a small smile. In response, she beamed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N! You're the best person ever!" she exclaimed, squeezing you with enthusiasm.

You chuckled awkwardly. "You're welcome, I guess." Returning the hug, you hoped that your decision wouldn't lead to unexpected complications.

She broke the hug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll send you the link later," she said, her tone tinged with excitement. Rising to her feet, she continued, "I'll leave you to rest now. You must be exhausted after your workout, aren't you?" She smirked knowingly, her gaze flickering towards the door, "And I bet Bucky play a big part on it too, didn't he?"

"Shut up." You grabbed a nearby pillow and playfully tossed it at her. She dodged it with a laugh before heading towards the door.

"Bye, Y/N," she called out, her voice fading as she exited the room.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile at her audacious attitude. She was certainly something, and you knew this secret shopping mission of hers was bound to be an adventure.

You stepped into the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat. The water hit your back and you felt so relaxed, your hand trailed down between your legs, you thought about how good it felt to have his cock inside of you, how he fucked you in the gym.

You stepped on the shower to get ride of the smell of sweat and sex that Bucky left you with. When the cold water touched your skin, it brought you back to the real world.

"Ow! Ow! Shit, shit!" You said under the shower and quickly turned it into warm water. "I forgot how much this place is always cold." You whispered, and began washing your hair and body.

Now you felt relax as the water fell on your head and back. The memory of the moment that happened not even an hour ago played on your mind, like a movie. 'That's right doll, take my cock' and the sound of his low and raspy voice echoed on your head.

Your hand trailed down your body, and when you got to your pussy, you rubbed your clit. "Fuck" you hissed.

You could feel your arousal growing as you started fingering yourself. You leaned your head against the shower wall and moaned his name. You thought about how good it felt to have his mouth all over your neck and body.

The water was hot and steamy, but not enough to cover your moans. Your breathing was ragged and uneven. You imagined it was Bucky who was there with you, touching you. You closed your eyes and tried to recall every detail of the encounter.

Your fingers were now deep inside your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You could still feel his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking. You knew he liked to watch you squirm.

You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure in your stomach was getting stronger and stronger.

"Cum for me, doll." He whispered in your ear.

"Bucky! Fuck!" You screamed. You arched your back, your eyes rolling back. Your whole body shook with pleasure, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins.

You stood under the shower and breathed deeply. You didn't want to move, the hot water felt nice against your skin. But eventually you got out, wrapped yourself in a towel, and walked to the mirror. "God, look at that" you said, examining your neck.

There was a hickey where Bucky had sucked on it, and another one on your chest. It was too obvious for the others to see, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed it, and the memory made you smile.

As you saw yourself smiling like a fool, you slapped your cheeks lightly, "No, Y/N. Get a hold of yourself. You are not doing this again." But you knew you wanted to do it again.

As you dressed and settled on the bed, your phone chimed, and you saw Wanda sent you a link. Tapping on the link and the site appeared on your phone. You saw a variety of different vibrators and dildos and other stuff.

You tapped on the vibrator and it was in different colors. Black, red, pink, purple, etc.

"Oh wow." you breathed, your eyes widening as you scrolled through the available choices. As you delved deeper into the product descriptions, your intrigue grew.

'Great for solo or partnered play, its shape is flexible so it can be inserted easily, the base is wide enough so it won't slip out and the curved end is made to hit your g-spot, this vibrator is the best and you can't go wrong with it, you will always get pleasure and will leave you satisfied.'

You scrolled through the page, your eyes widening at the sheer array of options. " Jesus Christ, there are so many," you muttered, marveling at the variety.

You didn't know what to pick. So, you decided to take a screenshot and sent it to Wanda. "Wanda, I'm so confused. Which one should I pick?" You texted her. "What kind do you want? The purple one? Or the black and white one?"

Her response came swiftly. "Get both, also the lingerie. Oh, and make sure to get some lube, I need a lot for the toys," she texted back.

"Damn, Wanda, I didn’t know you were such a naughty girl," you mumbled to yourself, amused by her boldness.

"Ugh, gross, I’m going to need therapy after this," you quickly replied, feeling a mix of amusement and horror.

"And I need to bleach my eyes after seeing you two," she replied, her response laced with playful sarcasm.

You chuckled and continued browsing the website. "So much stuff. How can people use all these? Is this the kind of thing people use?" You whispered. You couldn't help but wonder which ones Bucky might enjoy.

There was this one that caught your attention. You clicked on the image, the vibrator popped open, and a description appeared. It was an eight-inch g-spot vibrator and anal vibrator with a remote control. It was a dual action toy that stimulated both the vagina and the anus.

'This 8 inch dual action toy is an ultra powerful vibrator that delivers powerful stimulation to both the vagina and the anus. The soft and silky material makes it a perfect beginner's toy, and its strong motor and wide bulbous tip makes it great for experienced users too.

With a curved end that will hit your g-spot and an insertable length of 8 inches, it's sure will give you a powerful sensation and will leave you screaming in pleasure. It also has a strong motor and 15 different speed and vibration patterns.

This toy is also waterproof, so you can enjoy it in the bath or the shower.'

Then you saw a video of a woman using it. The sounds were really loud and it sounded like it was being used for the first time. "How can she handle all that noise? It sounds like a jet taking off." You thought, watching the video.

Wanda's text jolted you back to reality. "Have you picked the items yet? I'm waiting," she inquired, her impatience coming through.

"Yeah, I already put them in the cart. I'm about to buy them."

"Okay, thank you! Good night!" she messaged, her excitement palpable.

"Good night," you responded.

Exhaustion began to weigh on you, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment. You were utterly spent, and as you settled into the comfort of your bed, sleep swiftly claimed you.

The next day, you woke up early, your throat was dry, scratchy, and sore. Part of it was Bucky's fault, he fucked your throat too rough hitting the back of your throat.

He's a beast.

You then recalled, ‘you loved choking on my cock huh?’ As Bucky's dirty words rang in your ear. You had to admit, that was the best blow job you've ever given. You didn't know why, but something about the fact that he was using your mouth for his own pleasure excited you. You found yourself wanting to please him.

"Fuck." You groaned, burying your face in the pillow, the darkness soothing your sore eyes.

You walked into the kitchen to get some water, you took the bottle of water from the fridge and drank it. You wondered if Bucky stayed to keep an eye on you and Wanda since now both of you were considered as a threat.

You still haven't discussed about what happened with Bucky. What's the relationship now? Were you just fuck buddies? Was that one-time thing? Or does he want more? Your heart raced at the thought of having more with him, you've never been in a relationship before, but with him? That sounds amazing.

After finishing your water and tossing the empty bottle into the trash, you decided to pay a visit to Bucky's room. However, when you arrived, you found his bed empty. Disappointment washed over you, and you wondered if he had been called away on a mission.

As you exited Bucky's room, you bumped into Wanda. "Morning, babe," she greeted you cheerfully.

"Hey, Wanda. Have you seen Bucky?" you inquired.

"Yeah, he's in the gym," she replied with a knowing smile.

"Great, thanks," you said, feeling a renewed sense of hope. You exchanged a few quick words with Wanda before she set off for the market to gather supplies for the day's meals, and you headed off to find Bucky. Wanda wished you luck before parting ways.

You went to the gym to see Bucky. When you reached there, the gym was empty, there was no one there.

“Bucky?” you called.

"Yeah?" His response came as he walked out, wearing only a towel. Despite the serious conversation on your mind, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the way his abs looked after the shower, water still dripping down his torso. "What's up? You good?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay.” You said, clearing your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. "Just wanted to talk."

"About?"

"Us," you said, meeting his eyes. "About what happened last night." He had an unreadable expression, the look on his face didn't make it seem like he was happy about this conversation.

Bucky let out a sigh, his face expressing a clear desire to avoid the topic. "Y/N, can we not? I'm not in the mood." He began putting on his clothes, his movements brisk and uneasy. He clearly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand.

But you couldn't let it go. The events of the previous night hung between you, an unspoken question begging for an answer. "No, Bucky, we can't just ignore it. I know things have been weird between us," you began, "What does it mean for us? I mean, is it going to happen again?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his jaw clenched. "Y/N, stop." He warned, his tone growing stern for you to drop the conversation.

You sighed, looking at him with sad eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pushing me away?" You asked, your voice determined, refusing to let the matter rest.

"I don't want to talk about this." he hissed, his patience fraying as he continued to dress, his movements becoming more agitated. "I have important stuff to do right now, so no."

"I want to know why the fuck you're acting this way!" you snapped, getting frustrated with his behavior. "Stop being a dick and just tell me. Are we going to do this again or what? What does this mean for us, huh? Is it a one-time thing or something more?” you demanded, raising your voice.

"God damnit Y/N! Just fucking stop! What's wrong with you?!" He yelled, his frustration boiling over. "Just fucking leave.”

Your heart sank, but you refused to back down. "No, not until you explain what our relationship is now," you insisted, your voice steady, though your hands trembled with the intensity of your emotions.

His glare could have frozen hell over, his eyes radiating cold anger, "We are not in a relationship. We have nothing. Do you understand? Nothing." he stated bluntly, his gaze piercing through you as he threw his duffle bag to the floor in a fit of frustration, its contents spilling out.

The look in his eyes...there was no emotion there. Just the cold stare of someone who no longer cared, and it felt like a stab to the chest. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's fucking talk. We fucked, that's it. It was a fucking mistake.”

The impact of his words hit you like a bullet to the chest. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "What…?" holding his glare as you tried to mask the hurt in your expression. This was worse than any outcomes you had ever imagined.

"A mistake, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that. It was a bad idea. It happened because I was stressed and needed to release some steam." His voice growing colder, "it was the only thing that got my mind off of everything.”

The finality of his words sinking in. “It was a fucking mistake. You happened to be there and I happened to be horny. We fucked. End of the story. Nothing else. Now fucking leave."

You had expected this to be just a one-time thing, and you thought you could handle that. But what he said was far worse, leaving you feeling utterly devastated, the weight of his rejection crushing you.

"I just happened to be there for you to fuck? To release your steam? You think of me that way?" You asked him.

He remained silent, refusing to look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor. Why were you still standing here, allowing him to strip away your dignity? Yet, a part of you desperately clung to the hope for an answer.

Every word carved a deeper wound into your heart, yet you pressed on. "No, I need an answer," you insisted, your voice growing more desperate. "Was it just sex?”

He met your question with a nonchalant shrug, his indifference cutting deeper than any rejection. "That's all it was. Yes."

"So, it meant nothing, I'm just another girl you fucked?" you asked, the pain in your voice evident as you tried to make sense of his words.

He continued to re-packing his bags, "What more do you want me to say, Y/N?" he retorted, his anger rising once again. "That I made a mistake? That I fucked up? That I regret it? There, happy? Or do you want to hear me tell you that I used you?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces as the truth of his words struck you like a hammer to the chest. You had given your heart to him, only for him to break it. You couldn't speak, could barely breath.

"It meant nothing to me, Y/N," he continued, his voice filled with disgust. "It was a moment of weakness, and it should never have happened."

You wanted to scream, to lash out, to strike him, but instead, you stood there in silence, unable to move. Bucky's words were like daggers, piercing your heart, leaving a deep wound that would never heal. You felt numb, the pain and betrayal too much for your body and mind to handle. You knew that you would never be the same, that a part of you would always be broken.

"I thought we had a connection." You asked, your voice small, the tremor betraying your vulnerability.

His response, devoid of any sympathy or remorse, struck like a knife to your heart. "Well, you were fucking wrong. You're a fucking mistake, Y/N. You should have known better than to expect anything from me. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

The finality of his words was a slap to your face, the sting of his rejection leaving a deep, jagged scar across your heart. You would never forget his words, or the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with hatred and disdain.

You couldn't comprehend why he was acting like this. Was this the real him? He was cold, emotionless, completely different from the person you thought you knew in the gym, making you question whether the person who had shared that passionate moment with you was real.

You should've known better. You shouldn’t listen to Wanda on the first place, her suggestion was ridiculous and it led to this mess. Your heart was broken, the pain was unbearable. You were alone.

You had no one.

But the rawness of the rejection stung. It was time to leave, to salvage what remained of your wounded pride and self-respect.

"Fuck you, Barnes.”

"You already did, sweetheart.” You saw a slight smirk, “Unless you want more, I can give you that. You have a body to die for.”

Fed up with his disrespectful attitude, you turned to leave, your hand gripping the doorknob. However, something compelled you to turn back and confront him. As you faced him again, you noticed his gaze lingering on you, catching a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps regret? But then, his expression hardened once more returned to its cold, distant state.

Summoning your strength, you said, "You really know how to hurt people, Barnes."

Bucky's response was laced with bitterness and self-awareness, acknowledging the pain he had caused, "I know, I'm a master of it." He said without looking at you with expression that you couldn't quite read, as if he wanted to say something more. Yet, he remained silent.

The room grew quiet, a heavy silence settling between the two of you, neither one willing to speak first. After what felt like an eternity, you averted your gaze, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered your farewell. "Goodbye, Barnes." With that, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind you, the sound echoing the finality of the moment.

As you left the gym, your steps heavy and your heart heavier, the weight of the emotional wounds settled in. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you made your way back to your room. There, behind a locked door, you allowed your emotions to spill out. You collapsed onto the bed, your sobs echoing in the room. You didn't know how long you cried, but it was enough time for your head to hurt. You wiped your tears, feeling the exhaustion set in.

Bucky was mean, he was really mean. You thought he had changed but apparently not. Not anyone was capable of changing. As you cried, you made a silent promise to yourself: you wouldn't let him hurt you again.

E/N : I apologize for leaving you hanging with another cliffhanger, but I didn't want to make Part 2 too lengthy and risk boring you. I acknowledge it might not be as good as Part 1, and for that, I apologize. Rest assured, I'll make it worth the wait in Part 3 (I promise)! On a positive note, who's excited for the groveling trope? I certainly am! Get ready for some intense moments! intense moments ahead!

All the sub-plot with Wanda will start to make sense in Part 3 as it intertwines, and you can expect some moments of jealousy and possessiveness from Bucky as well.

Don't forget to show your support by leaving likes and comments; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊📚

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#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #marvel x reader

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