#That said I'm not sure if she's doing it out of the goodness of her heart

[fictionalsweethearts]

THE COMMISSION PT. 3 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

You can find part one here. Part two here.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw

Word count: 4,345

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

After that episode, Sevika stopped your supply of Shimmer and threatened any dealers that she would rip out their tongues and eyes if they dared to sell you, so the following week you found yourself in enforced sobriety.

You were adding the finishing touches to the strap, Sevika wanted it to be comfortable and aesthetically pleasing, so that was what you did. The straps were made of fine leather, secured with adjustable snaps. However, it was the long, veiny phallus that was the star of the piece, provided with texture and a purple color, quite similar to Shimmer. On the back, there was a small compartment with the dose of Shimmer, interconnected with the rest of the piece and the wearer, making the strap a dynamic, vibrant piece and certainly better than any other made of plastic or silicone. This one was “alive” so to speak, and designed so that the thrusts would release small bursts of Shimmer into the wearer’s bloodstream, causing as much pleasure as the one receiving it. One of your best pieces, you put a lot of pride into it and it cost you two sleepless nights and delaying other orders to give this one your full attention.

You made your way through the crowd. For a couple of weeks now, The Last Drop has been more crowded, the good sales of shimmer and the economic bonanza it brought made people look for a place to dance, drink more and bet their money in games that Sevika usually won.

Sevika.

You saw her at the back of the club, just like a few weeks ago when you went to her to check her arm and receive the commission you now had ready and kept in a box. She was focused on her cards, a cigarette between her lips and a couple of opponents with pursed lips sitting before her.

"Am I bothering?" you asked once you approached.

"Silco isn't taking guests." she muttered, without taking her eyes off the cards.

"I'm not here to see Silco." you said with a smirk before Sevika realized it was you.

She looked you up and down, taking in your appearance. You looked… good. Rested, healthy, and more beautiful than ever. It was a striking difference from the last time she had seen you, and it made her feel more confident than ever about her decision to take away your Shimmer supply.

"Well, hello yourself." she said, raising a brow. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Merry early Christmas." you teased, placing the box on the table. "Commission done."

She smiled, taking one last glance at her cards before folding and placing them face down. Her opponents grumbled as they laid down their own and counted up their chips, which Sevika quickly started sliding towards her. She picked up the box, feeling the weight of it in her hands. "Finally. Took you long enough."

"Quality takes time." you smirked, leaning to take a sip of Sevika's glass. The woman lifted the lid to peek inside, knowing she had to take a better look of the product in private.

"Continue without me, boys." Sevika said, quitting the game in order to stand up and head to her office with you.

The other players grumbled in annoyance as Sevika stood up, but their protests died out as Sevika glowered at them.

"If I come back and see you've touched my chips, I'll make sure you lose a few fingers." Sevika warned, her voice dripping with malice.

They entered a dimly lit office, the smell of wood and tobacco welcoming you as soon as you set foot inside. There was a coffee table in the center, on it a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, in front of it a vermilion sofa darkened by age and the ashes of hundreds of cigarettes. The office was undeniably Sevika's, she was a sober woman and the room showed it, however you always liked the small jar painted in gold and blue paint, which used to keep mint candies for the breath. The truth is that you tended to eat them yourself and force Sevika to buy more.

"How is Silas?" you asked as you entered, following Sevika. "Did his dick fall off?"

"No, but it's probably the only thing still functional about him." She replied, shutting the door behind her.

She walked over to the coffee table, dropping the box on it before turning her attention to the bottle of whiskey. She poured two glasses before passing one to you.

"Here." She said. "You look like you could use a drink."

"Indeed." you agreed, taking the glass between your fingers. "Booze seems an alternative, since someone put me on forced sobriety."

“Yeah, I’m not sorry about that.” She muttered, taking a sip of her drink. “You were out of control.”

She walked over to the sofa, taking a seat and gesturing for you to do the same. “Now, though,” she said, her voice a hint softer, “you do look better, I have to admit.”

"I look tired." you grumbled. "You know how hard is to work sober? I can't barely make the half of orders I used to finish in a day."

"You look gorgeous when you're tired." She observed, her voice low and full of innuendo. She took another sip from her drink, leaning back into the sofa. "And as for your orders, I don't care if you have to hire a damn army to finish them. You're not touching Shimmer again until I say so."

Sevika changed the subject so quickly that you couldn't comment on her casual compliment. Her eyes didn't betray the way she looked at you, nor the thoughts that had been running through her mind since she asked you for such a commission. She was sweet on you but her demeanor masked it well. "The workshop's rent is getting higher by the month." you said then. "I cannot afford working any less."

"I'll cover the rent," she offered, her voice gruff. "You just focus on your work."

The speed with which she resolved the issue struck you as comical, Sevika seemed convinced enough of the quality of your work to become your financier. You huffed. "Are you into charity now?"

"Charity? Hardly." She replied, her voice dry. "I prefer to think of it as an investment. You're an investment."

She paused to look at you, the way you traced the rim of the glass with your finger, your exposed shoulders, the softness of your neck, your cheekbones visibly more flushed with sobriety. She let out a sigh. "Besides, you owe me."

"Owe you?" you asked.

She couldn't contain a smirk. "For one," she started. "You're sitting in my office, drinking my booze, and you've still yet to even show me the commission I asked for. That's one reason."

She leaned forward, her gaze steady on you. "Two, you've been sleeping and eating in my club for weeks now. You think those things come free?"

Funny. Nothing's free when it comes to Sevika. She believed in the power of trades, of taking advantage of people’s qualities in an honest and effective way. You couldn’t deny that you’d turned to Sevika more times than you’d care to admit, whether it was to get another dose of Shimmer, sleep somewhere other than the workshop, and even sneak into her office and eat her snacks while she was minding her business at the brothel. Not to mention that she was now offering to pay your rent. You owed Sevika, whether you liked it or not. Your silence was your answer.

She leaned back into the sofa again, her expression smug. "That's what I thought." She muttered, taking another sip from her drink. "You're in my debt, dollface. And sooner or later, I'm going to collect."

She put the glass down, her eyes flickering to the box. "Now, are you gonna show me my commission?"

You sat up on the couch and nodded, Sevika's words not to be ignored. "Sure." you said, leaning over to carefully open the cherry-colored box you had brought for her. You lifted the lid and carefully placed the product on the table, unwrapping it.

Sevika couldn't help the way her eyebrow rose, her eyes studying the piece intently before a grin played on her dark lips. What a piece. "Damn." She muttered, her voice low with appreciation. Her hand hovered over the item, the tips of her fingers carefully tracing the leather straps, the velvety texture of the phallus.

"Is the color alright?"

Sevika took the strap, running her fingers over the texture and feel of its components, her eyes taking in the small Shimmer compartment in the back, the neatness of the finishes, even the light, comfortable weight. "Yeah. This is... better than I imagined." She admitted, her eyes flickering to you.

"Just make sure to not overdo it." you warned her, watching the woman testing the weight, the lightness of the piece and the exceptional quality of the materials. She seemed pleased, even though her face was inaccessible when it came to expressions. "It releases small doses of Shimmer, make sure to not wear it for too long."

"Oh, I'll definitely be testing the limits of this thing." She replied, her voice thick with innuendo. "I know when to stop."

"Just don't overdose." you mumbled, leaning back on the couch as Sevika stored the strap back into the box.

"I'm a big girl. I know how to handle myself." she insisted, taking a sip of the glass as her mind began going to places. The potential was massive.

You let out a sigh, you were sober and tired, the smell of the workshop clinging to your overalls and your hands still stained with oil and ink, which seemed to acquire the status of tattoos since they didn't seem to come off with any washing. You finished the glass, Sevika got up to search through her desk for the second half of your pay. She came back, holding out the the pouch. "Here." She said. "All yours."

You accepted the money willingly, thinking you would spend it on something stupid right away. You weren't good with finances, it's an understatement to say that if Sevika didn't manage your expenses regarding materials, machinery and labor, your business would go to hell overnight. She was always behind, watching over you and your lack of common sense when you had a bag full of coins. "I'll make sure to use them wisely."

"Oh, that's what you always say." She teased in return, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And then what do you do instead? Gamble it all away at the fight pits, I suppose?" She knew better than to trust you with money. You'd always been as reliable as a leaky ship, especially when you were hopped up on Shimmer.

"I make good bets." you replied. "But the fighters are getting lame lately."

She crossed her arms across her chest, her expression mocking. "You always pick the ones who look good but have no chance of winning. You always bet on the long shots, and you always lose."

You laughed, because you did tend to bet on the best looking boxer rather than the most skilled. You were a simple girl, you liked to drink in the sweaty bodies of the fighters in the Pit, men or women, releasing adrenaline charges with every punch, spitting and gasping. You found pleasure in premeditated violence, in the cheers and the boos, in the heat of a crowd committed to the spectacle. And perhaps it was because of that bad habit of yours that you bet on Vi last week, and Sevika didn’t take it well.

She huffed, her voice terse. "You picked Vi because she was hot, didn't you?"

"I picked her cause you despise her."

"Damn right, I do." She muttered through gritted teeth. "And you should too. Do you have any idea how many of my thugs she's beat up? Or the crap she caused Silco when she was in Piltover? That woman's always been a pain in my ass."

"You have a thing for problematic women." you shrugged, leaning to pour yourself more whiskey. "The difference is that some you hate, others you keep close."

Sevika rolled her eyes, craving a cigarette to deal with your tongue and insolent smile. "Causes involve problems." she said.

"And you seem to love both." you said.

"Oh, great." She muttered. "Another smartass back talker in my life... Just what I needed."

"Who's the other?"

"Jinx."

Her sigh said it all, Sevika was tired and her patience threatened to falter. Silco was her leader, she championed the cause, Zaun, yet Jinx figured as the constant component ruining her formula. You can't be a good soldier with a leader who is unable to see the flaws of his daughter, or at least, how he sees Jinx. "Sounds like you need to get something off your chest." you said.

She huffed. "I could write an encyclopaedia about everything wrong with that girl." She paused for a moment, her expression hardening once again. "She's Silco's blind spot. He can't see her for what she really is because he's too damn soft on her. And it's getting to the point where we can't cover for her anymore."

"He loves her." you said. "We all act like fools when it comes to love."

"What a joke. He's blinded by his affection for her. He's been babying her for years, giving her everything she wants and then some. And look where it's gotten us? The entire damn city is on the brink of a war because of her, because Silco can't bring himself to step away from his goddamn daughter and see her for what she really is."

Hell, she was mad. You put the glass on the coffee table, watching Sevika retrieve a cigarette from the pack in her pocket. Before she noticed, you were before her, lighting up with your zippo. "Jinx is a part of the game, want it or not. And it's up to you if you wanna keep up with Silco's whims or give up."

Her grey eyes locked on yours, releasing the smoke to the side.

"I'm loyal to Silco. I always have been, and I always will be. I believe in his cause, in his vision for Zaun." She stated. There was not a single hint of doubt on her words; when Sevika commits with a cause, she carries it to the end, no matter what.

That's what you admired of her.

"Then..." you said, grinning. "You need to let off some steam." your eyes flickering to the box on the coffee table.

Sevika thought you were joking. "You suggest I should take a stroll to the brothel while you stay here alone, a room away from the Shimmer reserves Silco keeps here?"

"I'll behave." you insisted.

"You better." She warned. "I don't know how Silco would feel if he came back to his supplies all gone because you had a goddamn party in his absence."

You smiled. "If I wanted to get high, I'd do it with my own money and merit, trust me." you stepped back, walking over to the couch. "It's up to you, Sev. But if I were you, I would go and try my new toy right away."

Sevika rolled her eyes.

"Dammit," she growled. "I can't believe I'm seriously considering this..."

Seeing you settle down on the couch, half drunk from the whiskey, Sevika actually considered taking a stroll around the brothel. She needed to release a pressure that only increased every time you were in front of her, with your stupid jokes and your arms and chest exposed, with your playful eyes and your insolent smile. You were a limit she forced herself to not cross. The woman grunted, picking up the red cape from the coat rack and putting it on.

"Take a bath while I'm gone, you smell like a workshop." she muttered, taking the box from the table

"Excuse me?" you protested, your expression one of mock-offence. "I smell just fine."

Sevika huffed a laugh at your protest, her eyes flickering over your figure. She had to admit she kind of enjoyed the way you smelt. A subtle yet intense medley of oil, grease and sweat - it was almost seductive.

"Don't pretend like I don't know the last time you took a bath was three days ago." She shot back, her voice full of sarcasm. "You smell like you live at a damn workshop."

Now you were offended. "I do live in a damn workshop."

"Don't make it obvious, then." she said, walking over the door. "I ain't paying your rent for you to smell like that. Bath." she added, leaving the room as she didn't just called you dirty.

At the slam of the door, you couldn't help but bury your nose in your armpit, letting out a groan. "Bath, yeah right," you muttered, getting up to grab one of Sevika's treats. "Next time I'll put less oil on that arm of hers…"

Sevika left the office with heavy steps, riled up by your entire presence. She was playing a dangerous game but she didn't intend to lose, not when you had become her most precious jewel but also the hardest to obtain. She wanted to possess you, in more ways than one, but she knew your limits and your whims, getting involved with you would not only be risky but directly novice to her plans. Letting you slip into her her will would only destroy the mettle she took years to build. She had to control herself.

Several glances fell upon Sevika as she entered The House of Pleasure, she hadn't been seen around these parts for weeks, and more than one of the ladies-in-waiting approached her doors hoping to be chosen by her. She was a client who paid well and made love well, there were no cons on her visits. "With Robin." the woman murmured to the owner, before being led to the largest room in the brothel.

Robin was waiting for her on the couch, wrapped in an olive-colored robe, playing with her black locks and looking as willing as ever. Sevika liked her, she had freckles and fleshy curves, she knew how to combat her bad mood.

"Sevika," the woman purred, standing up. "Long time no see. I missed you around here"

"Missing my attention or my money?" she huffed.

"Money lost importance a long time ago." she smiled, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on her client’s cheek before carefully removing her cape, revealing her mechanic arm. Sevika liked to be welcomed with a cigarette and Robin’s sweet perfume, to sit on the couch, manspreading, inhaling the smoke with her on her lap, giving her kisses on her neck and jaw.

However, Sevika saw you standing by the curtain, like an insistent ghost, reminding her that the woman on top her was not you. "What's in the box?" asked Robin then, leaving a kiss on the corner of Sevika's lips, her eyes flckering to the box sitting on the coffee table.

"A new toy." She muttered, her voice gruff.

Robin smiled. "You'd like us to try it?" she asked.

Sevika stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray that rested to her right, cupping the back of Robin's neck to begin a kiss that she hoped would erase you from her mind for a while. "Yeah." she said, against her lips, her hand gripping firmly the hooker's butt.

Sevika knew she was being foolish, that she was using Robin as a replacement for you, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The woman's moans, the feel of her body in her lap, it was all so familiar yet so different. She broke the kiss, her breathing ragged as she looked up at Robin with darkened eyes. "Get the toy.

Robin was helpful and elegant, she knew how to deliver an erotic show on each visit and please Sevika. She had already become accustomed to the rhythm and endurance of her client, her firm hands, her obscene kisses and subtle and not so subtle bites. The hooker opened the box, her smile was not faked when she saw the quality of the piece.

"Robe off, doll." said Sevika, her legs spreading with a latent confidence. Robin approached, an arm around her waist as Sevika pulled her closer. "You'll keep up with me, don't you?"

"Always..." whispered Robin, as Sevika watched the woman undress before her, trying to ignore the picture of your smile on the back of her mind.

Third round, Sevika seemed to hate you more and more as she discovered that the piece you had made for her was sensational.

Each thrust released a small charge of Shimmer, taking Sevika on a roller coaster of sensations, a constant upward slope that did nothing but shake her nerve fibers from head to toe. She had Robin on her stomach on the bed, hips and ass up, one hand firmly in her hair, another on her hip, as she thrusted into her relentlesslty, growling against the back of her neck in an obscene and not at all concealable symphony; the entire brothel knew that Sevika was back.

She had you to thank for this, you and your damn ingenuity. She would never admit it aloud, but gods how she hated you for this. For making her feel something, for making her lose control.

She knew she wouldn't survive another round as she leaned down, her breath ragged and hot in Robin's ear. "I might have... to take you home sometime."

"I'll go anywhere, as long as you fuck me this good." Robin purred, her body melting as Sevika leaned down to place kisses and bites on her shoulder. Sevika refused to open her eyes, she wanted to imagine you beneath her, your smell, your moans, your legs shaking with pleasure and begging for more. She held the woman's neck between her fingers, pressing her hips hard as a tickling sensation settled in her lower belly. Fuck, this was so good.

She felt herself melting, her veins burning, her heart pounding. Robin could see the purple glow in her client's eyes, they had grown deeper throughout rounds, and certainly her strength too. "I want you... so bad." She breathed, her voice gruff and breathless as she began speaking out her thoughts. "But I can't... fucking have."

"Shit... I-'m... cumming." whined Robin, which Sevika straightened up and pulled Robin's back against her chest, choking her harder with every deep, nerve-shaking thrust.

"Shut up," Sevika snapped, her voice guttural and her eyes still tightly shut. She didn't want to hear anyone's name but yours, any voice but yours. She wanted you beneath her, begging and pleading for more.

Sevika growled, her forehead suddenly resting against Robin's back, a firm hand between her legs, rubbing her clit as her brain corrected her moans and made them yours.

Gosh, she almost could smell the goddamn oil and ink.

The Shimmer was beginning to take over her wits, her veins heating up, her breath coming out in loud gasps as a second orgasm began to take over her. And Robin wouldn't shut her mouth, goddamn it!

"Shut. The fuck. Up." Sevika growled, covering Robin's mouth with her flesh hand. The woman whined against her palm, panting at the same time Sevika moaned into her neck, enjoying an unprecedented orgasm. "Fuck...! Take it well and nicely." she whispered against Robin's ear.

Robin fell back onto the mattress, her body marked by dozens of bites, a hand on her buttock, a hickey on her neck. Sevika was the only client who could afford to mark her girls, and Robin accepted it willingly. But today she had gone too far.

Sevika let out a pant, sitting up in bed, dizzy and shaky, as if she had run across all of Zaun. Her flesh hand trembled, she was a round away from overdose, she knew it. She took the strap off and tossed it somewhere in the room before searching for a cigarette on the nightstand. Just the bitter taste of the smoke managed to calm her down and return her from that portal she refused to cross.

"Something's up with you." mumbled Robin, barely catching her breath as she reached out to wet her throat with a glass of water.

Sevika sat on the couch, her cinnamon skin lightly beaded with sweat. Her entire body was still alert, sensitive and active, from her erect nipples to the thickened veins on her arm. The Shimmer was not quick to digest. "Nothing's up." she mumbled.

Robin propped on her elbow, reading Sevika's expression. She knew that one, has seen it on other clients, but it was the first time she saw it on Sevika's face; the expression of frustrated passion. "There is someone, isn't there?"

Sevika dragged on the cigarette, her eyes darting around the room before landing on the strap. Damn you. "Yeah, there's someone."

Robin's eyes softened. "Who...?" she asked softly.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered quietly, avoiding eye contact. "She's...off-limits."

As Robin was about to ask for details, there was a knock at the door. The hooker put on her robe, taking heavy steps towards the door after having dealt with Sevika's stamina for two hours. Sevika let out a cloud of smoke, pulling her head back as she thought about you, and a bitter sensation pooled on her stomach.

I'm wasting my damn time.

When Sevika had already put on her boxers, Robin turned to look at her, her expression suggesting urgency. She frowned. "What is it?"

"It's a message from the Last Drop," Robin said. "A girl overdosed in your office."

Suddenly the Shimmer effect seemed to be heightened, but it was actually raw, pure adrenaline.

No.

Sevika jumped off the couch, looking for her clothes as Robin stood there. "Sev?" she asked worried.

"Get me my damn cape," she said. "I gotta go."

To be continued...

taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias @sevikashairbrush @lipglosskxsses @chaosfieldflower @kairuvhen @moodient @izzy120 @bonemarrowstew @abbysunderwear @batman-2 @karmalovessimonriley @fandomsinthegalaxies @fudosl @femme-historian @poprostuhybryda-blog @kifuqe @xblinkx2 @tamikahoshiko @lia-winther @https-mika

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.

"Are you ready?"

Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."

You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.

"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks. 

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." 

Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.

"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.

"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."

He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.

"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.

"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."

He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.

He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring. 

Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."

You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

"It's a girl."

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.

"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."

Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

----------------------------

Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.

"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.

But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.

Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite. 

When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.

"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."

You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.

-----------------------------

Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.

As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."

"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"

Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."

She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."

Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.

"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"

Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"

"Yeah." 

She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.

"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

----------------------------

After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.

He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag. 

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.

"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.

"What?"

"The word dumbass written across your forehead."

He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.

"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. 

Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."

Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.

"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.

"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.

"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.

"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."

"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.

"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."

Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.

Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"

Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"

Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.

"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.

Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"

"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have? 

"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."

Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.

This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.

Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.

Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.

Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately. 

Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

-----------------------------

Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[takashi0]

This is only true if you're one of those people who think that a DnD campaign where Orcs are the primary villain is some sort of coded message saying that being racist to black people is good, aka a fucking psychopath who is projecting their own bigotry onto fantasy media.

Literally the entire point of the Hearth's warming special with the Windigos and Zecora's introduction episode was "hey being racist is BAD!" Or more accurately mostly the first one since the second one is also a "Don't judge a book by its cover" aesop that also had smatterings of "racism is bad" with it thanks to Zecora being a Zebra. I can't fucking stand this notion of "If you ever had bigoted tendencies ever at all you're irredeemably evil and we will never, ever acknowledge the fact that you changed for the better."

That is some fucking Lily Orchard tier "Straight up lying about the show", there's like FOUR episodes out of Nine seasons!

I'll concede that the buffalo thing wasn't the best thought out idea, but you're talking about a tv show meant for seven year olds and the moral of the episode is "Learn to compromise", you are out of your goddamn mind if you think they're going to touch on things like the Trail of Tears, let alone do it in a fantasy world where you can just say that shit didn't happen.

I'm pretty sure the actual thing they said was "G5 being a distant sequel where the ponies are racist to each other like the Hearths Warming Origin episode completely undermines everything Twilight and co did through the show", but hey acknowledging that means you can't make the show look bad or the fandom look irrational for no reason, and God knows we can't have that!

Oh wow the main protagonists aren't perfect people, I thought that's what you fucking yahoos wanted.

Also didn't Yona give up trying to act like a pony and the ponies gave up on trying to make her act like one too?

Again, real "Orcs are totally black people you guys" vibes

Dragon culture was made up of Fratboy douchebags who tormented each other and other races for fun, to the point where they tried to get Spike to smash Phoenix eggs for shits and giggles. Another dragon straight up tried to KILL SPIKE just for entering his cave.

The Griffons were rude assholes who only cared about themselves and money.

My memory is hazy but I wouldn't blame anyone for not being super stoked about Yak culture since the most I remember of the Yaks outside of Yona is "Screaming loudly and breaking everything in sight."

And I swear to God if you use THE CHANGELINGS as an excuse to slander the ponies you are a complete goddamn idiot. Their first introduction on the show is them INVADING A CITY and attempting to harvest the population for love! Which is exactly what they did in their next appearance to Ponyville! Yes, Thorax exists! Yes, they all eventually did a face turn and Chrysalis left because she's a bitch! That's great! That's wonderful! But that doesn't change the fact that Thorax's whole challenge was proving to the ponies that he wanted to peacefully coexist! The ponies not trusting him were obviously in the wrong to do so, BUT THEY HAD GOOD FUCKING REASON TO NOT IMMEDIATELY TRUST HIM.

If you're going to give the mane six shit for thinking the Zebra they've never seen before who hangs out in THE DANGEROUS FOREST OF MAGICAL PLANTS AND ANIMALS THAT CAN KILL YOU could MAYBE be dangerous, but act like the Changelings did nothing wrong, you need to sort out your priorities!

The Seaponies/Hippogriffs were the only culture aside from maybe the Zebras (who we didn't see until the season 10 comics which I haven't read so idk) and I guess the Kirin (who had like one problem that one of their own already understood how to solve anyway) that you could say "nah they don't need to learn friendship from the ponies." And see the buffalo thing above for "These aren't missionaries you fucking morons, this is a little girl show about friendship."

Yeah! And the board were the ANTAGONISTS! The main villain of the season was the head of the Board's DAUGHTER who worked with the closest thing the show had to SATAN to try and sabotage it! Again, why the fuck are you guys acting like Calvinists?

They fucking didn't, you should know better than to blindly trust tumblr users on anything.

i'm gonna be honest i don't get why they say everypony instead of everybody in mlp. it's not like the word everybody is human-specific. the ponies have bodies. the word everypony, however, is pony-specific in a world where ponies are not the only people in their society, which means it would be more accurate and inclusive to use everybody instead of everypony. it all makes no sense to me

[bluem1lls]

Hii :3 I also miss se-mi a lot and I really want to see more content about her. Could I ask for sub!se-mi maybe? Besides being curious, I'm also quite upset by the little content about sub!squid game and i miss my wife se-mi so pleaseee 🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️

✧₊⁺ a little help

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: your girlfriend is having a hard time studying.. all you wanna do is help her.

content: minors dni, dom!reader x sub!se-mi, fingering/oral (se-mi!receiving), vibrator

authors note: hiii! i've never wrote any of my fave characters as sub so i hope u like this?? thank u for your request!

"fuck it" se-mi said, frustrated.

"baby.. you're doing so good, keep going"

"i can't princess i want to but i really can't"

"se-mi.. you need to study" i rolled my eyes, laughing, as she rested the papers on her face, reclining against her chair.

"i'm done. i need a break" she said as she stood up, placing the papers on the desk. she grabs my face to kiss me.

i shock my head no as she kisses my entire face, making me laugh as i softly pushed her off.

"baby no. i'm serious. you know you can pass this test and we had plenty of breaks" i said staring at the mcdonald's bags resting on the floor.

oh. wait.

i'm a genius.

"sit" i ordered as she raised one brow.

she chuckles.

"sit dumbass, i'm serious" i said, pushing her to the chair as she stared at me, confused.

i kneel in front of her as i grab the flashcards. i get in between her legs, my chin resting on her inner thighs.

"okay so, when does a substance generates heat?"

"um..l-liquid to solid?"

"yes! good baby!" i smirked. my hands going to her black jeans, undoing the zipper and pulling them until they're out. she stares at me doe eyed, the outline of her pussy in display through her boxers. i can see a wet patch starting to form.

"already getting wet baby?" i smirked as she turned her gaze, embarrassed. "we haven't even started"

i smirk as she rolls her eyes and i give a slap to her thigh.

"focus, so ummm.. which element has exactly five electrons in the highest principal energy level?" i say, reading the flashcard as i stare into her eyes.

"the..um-i-i cant think when you're betw-"

"focus baby. which element?" i repeat the question.

"P.. it's P" she says.

"such a smart girl"

i open her legs, my mouth softly tracing kisses on her inner thigh until it reaches that wet spot.

i deposit open-mouthed kisses to her clothed covered clit, as she sighs, her hand rushes to pull my hair.

my tongue gives kitten licks over her boxers, creating a bigger wet patch as she quietly moans. she pulls me closer. i'm sure that if i pull her boxers down, they have her arousal all over. i smirk at the thought.

"ple-plea-"

"so.. let's keep going" i say, leaning backwards, going back to resting in between her inner thighs as she groans.

"baby-"

"for a chemical reaction it is usually found that the reaction rate is faster at higher temperature. the rate increases because?"

"what do i get if i answer correctly?"

"focus" i softly slap her cheek. "we're studying. remember?"

she bites her lip.

"more reactants collide with.."

i hum.

"um with... energy equal to or greater than the activation energy?"

"good" my hands pull the elastic band of her boxers, she excitedly pushes them down to her ankles.

i laugh at her desperation. my fingertips trace over her wet folds, as she bucks her hips into my hand. a moans leaves her pouty lips.

"say please baby" i whisper.

"please" she begs.

"beg once more?"

"please please please" she cries, moaning as my tongue attacks her clit.

up and down, in circles i move over her clit, her moans are all i hear in the room.

as i pull away, my fingers slide through her salivated cunt, spreading the wetness, slowly going to her aching hole.

she cups my face, kissing me as i introduce two fingers in her. she whines against my mouth.

"such a good girl. you're my girl am i right?" she quickly nods.

my fingers thrust again and again, scissoring moves inside of her as her moans go louder and louder. she's such a needy girl.

kneeling down, my mouth on her. my face buried in her pussy.

"f-fuck im-"she huffs.

my tongue moves on her clit as my fingers curl inside of her, touching that spongy spot that makes her whimper.

"please-yeah just like that" her eyes roll backwards as i slammed into her.

i can hear the squelching noises her cunt makes, becoming wetter as she rides my fingers. my mouth in her clit, kissing it, licking it.

"i'm so close, i'm so close" she says, her hands pull my hair tighter.

"nu-huh." i pull away. leaving her confused. she stares at me as she stutters.

"what?..."

she throws her head back, her eyes shut close from the pleasure, her mouth hangs open.

moans keep slipping out as i press the bullet vibrator on her clit.

"my needy girl" i grin as she grinds her hips against my hand.

"i'm so close, please let me cum, let me cum" she cries as her hands grip the armrest.

as i set it higher, she whimpers over and over until i plunge two fingers into her, making her release a loud moan.

i feel her pulsating cunt clench on my fingers as she cums. tears stream down her cheeks, her body twitches as she gasps. her thighs trap my hand in between her legs as she rides my fingers again, to make her orgasm last even longer.

i remove my fingers as she whines, feeling the lost of them inside her.

i quickly open her legs, putting aside the vibrator as my mouth licks her clean. she tries to close them as my hands prohibit. i taste her in my mouth, hearing her whimpers.

once i'm done, i place my fingers on my mouth, cleaning them with my tongue as she stares with her hooded eyes. she's panting, her cheeks are flushed and her mouth is open.

her lips leave a soft sigh escape her mouth as i kiss her forehead. her hair sticking to it from sweat.

"my sweet girl" i murmur.

"i can't study now. i need a break... and cuddles" she says, making me chuckle.

"okay, we study later?" i say as she smirks.

"like we just did? yes. please"

[iwashie]

Sevika, and reader on her period headcanon...

Sevika is in her late 30s and probably doesn't suffer with her period-or do-, but dating a younger woman, at the peak of hormones and period, makes her think about her time and asks herself how she handles you and all your versions during it.

She knows your period is coming by just seeing your breasts swelling, some complaints about your back hurting, and mood changing during the day as you always do but never remember it's that time of the month.

She always has a lot of pads, your favorite food stockpiled, medicine for your various pains, always ready to massage your back, legs and belly, brings you a lot of water and a hot water bottle for cramps.

"Doll, it's normal to have a period. Don't be angry or disgusting for it. I know you don't like having pains, and all that stuff period brings on, but it's normal. And you have me by your side."

Your mood swings are a challenge for her, but she handles somehow. Just like the day you two were walking around Zaun, enjoying a street food you begged her to buy and then she notices you're not by her side, looking back to see you stuck in the place, your eyes on the ground, on your food on the ground. She immediately ran back to you, soothing you as your eyes filled with tears and mumbled that you haven't even bitten. "That's alright, doll. Have mine and everything is fine."

Or the day she made a joke at the wrong time and wrong place, making everyone at the table in Last Drop alternate gaze between you two just to look away when you lashed out on her and left the place without her. Or the day a woman looked at her for too long, and you had to show that woman that your woman was your woman. Or tried to throw punches at every man whistling at you- Ran had to stop you and Sevika at this one.

She thought your period cravings were something else. Why so much sugar?!? It's was possible worse than pregnancy cravings. "Are you on your period, or are you pregnant?

"I'm craving something sweet, like really sweet." You said, searching for something in the cabinets. "Have some sugar." You looked at her with fire on your eyes, and she felt a cold sweat run down her back. "What about some chocolate cake, ice cream, or some food deep-rooted with sugar? I'll buy it, doll."

She can't keep up with your energy, always accepting whatever you want and following behind you everywhere with a scowl, but making sure you're good, safe, and happy. She doesn't understand how you have so much energy left after doing a lot of things during the day to her about your day and plans, just to fall asleep suddenly.

She also handled you crying over everything and making traps for her, like asking her if she'd love you if you were a worm, or her worst nightmare: "Would you love me if I was from topside?" and her long silence was answer enough for you to start weeping. "Doll, it's just a dumb thought. Of course I'd love you and gonna be with you forever. I promise!"

She prefers to handle you when you are calmer, too sore to handle the world on your back, and stays in bed, being doted by her. She always cuddles you, her human hand on your belly to warm it up, whispering sweet nothings or watching a movie with you, both wrapped in the blankets. "I love you too, doll."

Maybe the best thing about your period is the much horniness you have during it. Your wild side is always showing up at this time of the month; always teasing her with dirty whispers, handsy. She loves fucking you, making love to you, making you cum and all. But, damn, you've come three times already, and you're looking at her with those eyes again, and she isn't young anymore, she needs to catch her breath. "Please, Vika. Just one more. You can use your fingers on me this time. Pleaseee."

She loves it when you are horny and take the lead, playing with yourself, teasing her until she does something about it and makes slow, tender, sweaty love to you. "Fuck, doll. Your pussy is so wet and creamy for me, gotta fuck it properly, huh. Do you want this? Want my cock deep inside your pussy? Good girl, doll..."

Your crazy ideas always caught her by surprise. She is sure that these ideas are made up before your period, and you only come with them to blame on the "period hehehe"

"You know what? I really want-" "Please, a normal thing for once." "You to impregnate me." A silence in the room. "Impossible, doll." "What do you mean it's important? DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?!?" "It's biological Impossible to get you pregnant with my babies." "Well. We gotta keep trying, vika!"

Your low self-esteem is the biggest problem, like how she's gonna put inside your head that you are the most beautiful person in Zaun? The prettiest woman she's ever laid eyes on! "Your body is completely fine! Your skin is normal! You're not fat, square, or I don't know! Your clothes are completely fitting, you're fucking beautiful and perfect. The only woman for me, doll!"

At the end of your period, she would be exhausted, needing vacations away from Zaun, but glad to have you surviving another period without trying to kill her and every other Zaun citizen. She would be so glad to have her girl back, not that you're much different but still.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I know I've written about Daryl x reader in a relationship, but I'm rewatching The Walking Dead and UGH I love him...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The perfect example of your marriage is that scene from Yellowstone at the bar. Here's the link. Warnings: Violence :)

・Yes, so you and Daryl have a very close relationship - it has taken you a long time to get to this point.

・But marriage meant you two would be staying together for life. And Daryl knew that. No one was taking you away from him.

・You two met at the very beginning; in the camp with Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, Andrea, Shane, Glenn etc.

・You abhorred Merle and gave him as much as you could - cussing him out, calling out his actions etc. You were always right but Merle was Merle.

・And you grouped Daryl with his brother; although he didn't say much.

・When Merle wasn't around, you actually got the time to see Daryl differently.

・He was really growing on you.

・You had no idea that he was wrestling with certain feelings as well.

・Your relationship was ... a slowburn to say the least. But you always looked out for each other. Made sure one another had enough food and water.

・There developed a constant between the two of you. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind. Especially when the group would split up

・You always found your way back to each other

・And yet, neither of you could see how much the other cared. Even though the whole group - even the new members - could see it.

・Though he comes off as rough and gruff to most, Daryl would have a soft spot for you. You’d be the only one who gets to see his gentler, more vulnerable side.

・

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Daryl was anxious all day, you even saw his hands shake before he saw it and shoved them in his pockets.

・You were worried; he never kept anything from you. Not even when you were just best friends.

・So you went to Carol, she shrugged her shoulders and gave you that knowing look. It calmed your own nerves down, because when Daryl is anxious; you are tenfhold.

・That night you were getting ready for watch, but a knock came at the door.

・It was Michonne.

"Hey, you wanna come in? I'm gonna start my shift soon but I can make us something tea?"

"It's okay, and don't worry about your shift; I have something for you to do."

"Oh okay, sure."

・You followed Michonne past the gardens, the crops and up to the doors of Alexandria and out into the nearby forest.

"We ugh, made sure the area was clear. You don't need to worry about a thing."

・She gave you one of her knowing smiles and you knew something was up...it made you nervous.

・Once Michonne disappeared, you heard the crunching of leaves.

・Quickly you whipped out your knife and swiped as you turned, only to be met by a large hand grabbing your arm.

"Thought I taught ya better than tha'" Daryl said, letting go of your arm and giving you a smile

"You did. I knew it was you. Heavy boots were giving me a heads up."

・It was then that you noticed his appearance; washed, with a clean black button up shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans.

・You quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this Dixon?"

Hesitating, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused hand, eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting yours.

“Been thinkin’,” he started, shifting his weight between one leg to the other. “’Bout us… and all the shit we've gone through...”

You stepped closer to him. Closing the gap. And your heart started pumping a whole lot faster.

"-You know I ain’t good with words,” he muttered in a low voice. “Specially ain’t good at all this… romantic stuff. But you—you’re the best thing...that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the only thing that makes sense in this goddamn world.”

・Your cheeks started to redden but you let him talk

From his pocket, Daryl pulled out something small and clenched in his hand, his fingers trembling just slightly.

You let out a soft, "oh." Thinking this day would never come.

When he opened his hand, there it was—a simple, gold ring.

“I know it ain’t much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's perfect," the tears had started to fall now. You didn't even notice you had begun to cry.

Daryl sniffed, not realising he had shed a few tears as well. "...I just want you to know… you’re my family now. Always have been.”

He held the ring out to you.

"I don't know how long we have in this world. But I know I wanna spend it with you."

There was a moment of silence. One you let hang in the air, not truly believing this was happening.

"So… what d’ya say?”

・The look on his face was pure and full of love.

"God I love you Daryl Dixon."

・Slipping the ring on your finger, you realised how comfortably it fit. You gave Daryl a knowing look and he gave you a sheepish one.

"...measured your finger when you were sleepin'...also had help from Carol..."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm getting you one, right? I want everyone to know you're taken. That Daryl Dixon is mine."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

・Then he kissed like it was your very first and last kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever felt—raw, deep, and so full of emotion that it left you breathless. His lips claimed yours with an intense passion.

His hands trembled slightly, and cradled your face. Holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world; well, to him you were.

Pulling apart, he rested his forget against your own and whispered:

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

In that moment, the world outside could have crumbled, and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that existed was you and him.

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Being married to Daryl Dixon meant having someone completely and utterly loyal to you.

・He calls you his family; and when he does so, you know it comes from a place of deep sincerity and respect.

・Instead of grand romantic displays, Daryl shows his love in quiet ways, like fixing something for you, preparing food, or just staying by your side during tough times.

・Daryl would be the ultimate protector, keeping you safe at all costs.

・You have your own place together. Not too far from everyone but secluded enough that you feel independent

・A common part of your nightly routine is cuddling up together on the couch and eventually falling asleep. (Daryl already having locked all the doors and has weapons around the house - just in case. He's not leaving anything to chance.)

・You've both shared everything you know about survival with one another.

・One of your ideas was to make a book about it. How to survive in this mess of a world; Daryl has fully encouraged it. He said it would come in handy for the next generations...

・Daryl thrives in the quiet moments of your marriage—sitting together by a fire, riding his motorcycle with you behind him, working on something side by side in comfortable silence.

・He also has a way of surprising you with such tenderness. E.g., brushing hair from your face or resting his forehead against yours in silent appreciation.  

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Look at that stupid dumbass man, ha! Oh shit that's my dumbass-" (Daryl)

Short & bossy x Tall & follows them around

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

"Why Are You Babying Me?" (Daryl) x "'Cause I Know You Like It" (You)  

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Forced Proximity

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

Enemies to Lovers  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Sex On Fire by Kings of Leon

Into My Arms by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

One More Hour by Tame Impala

[vyliez]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 was it casual?

pt 2. to : why'd you only call me when you're high

pairings: se-mi x fem!reader

synopsis: fucking that shit attitude of hers out because what the fuck?

warnings: smut, sub!se-mi, fingering, pwp(?), pathetic!se-mi, squirting, edging. lmk more lolz

a/n: lord knows we need a sub se-mi in our life once in a while because whimpering and whining se-mi will make my phone switch from my right hand to my left :P also i'm shit at endings but wtv at least there's sub se-mi and i'm fine

the morning after, you decided to ask her when her head's clear. "se-mi?" you hummed as you watched her fumble into her clothes, your chin resting on your palm.

"yeah?" se-mi replies, looking down at you, all sprawled in bed, looking disheveled. she swallows her dry throat, trying to keep her thoughts pg-13 as she buckles the belt of her pants.

"about last night..." you started. you could see her pause before continuing on her ministrations. so she had noticed. good. or bad? you waited for her reply in silence as she tried to not meet your eye.

"it was nothing," she finally replied after a moment, looking dead into your eye, her face unreadable. "i was high,"

that made you scoff to yourself. "of course it was," you mumbled, your gaze fleeting downwards as you fiddle with the loose threads of your blankets. it always was nothing.

"hey," she says firmly, placing two fingers under your chin, making you look at her and meet her gaze. your eyes subconsciously wandered all over her face, as if it were memorizing every single eyelash and freckle for your suffering later in the dark. you swallowed hard, you watched how her piercings glinted against the open sunlight. fuck— why does she have to be so hot all the fucking time? it made you wonder what it'd be like to share something more than fucking with her.

"it was a mutual agreement between us," her voice snapped you out of your daze. "no feelings involved."

that made you swallow the lump in your throat, your heart sinking lower and lower deep into the trenches of your sorrow as se-mi lets go of you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as a farewell. "i'll see you when i see you, yeah?" she says, taking her jacket and opened the door to your room. "and remember, this thing between us is just casual," she says casually before closing the door behind her.

nothing was casual about it when you had her helpless on her own couch, squirming and crying as she begged and pleaded while your hands expertly circled her clit.

"b-baby... please, i'm sorry," she begged, sobbing as you denied her for the nth time that night. her hand tried to snake up your hips but you swatted it away. "no," you said firmly, which emitted a whimper from her pretty lips.

se-mi didn't know what she was apologizing for. all she knew that this was somehow a sort of punishment she did a while back. she whined softly, bucking her hips up to your hand for more friction after you ghosted your fingers over her clit. however, she shriveled when she saw your glare, her lips forming into a small pout, akin to a child that had been scolded by their parent.

her mind raced, trying to find the reason for this 'punishment'. surely it was nothing serious right? she traced the day's events in her mind. you messaging her you'd be around tonight, work, lunch, work, had some breakfast at this new diner—oh. her realization hit her like a ton of bricks, at the same time, you inserted two fingers easily through her tight walls, which made her moan loudly, her hand latching onto your arm, throwing her head back and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"ah- ah- ah," you tutted as you removed your fingers from inside her and swatted her hand away from your arm. "no touching unless you don't want to cum, do you understand?"

se-mi whined, her lower lip trembling, mumbling incoherent apologies. "princess— sweetheart... p-please... please, i'll be a good girl— i'll treat you better than before," she panted heavily, another set of tears forming in her eyes, ready to fall again. her begging fell deaf into your ears, however as you pinched her clit harshly. "do you understand?" you asked firmly, staring deep into her eyes.

se-mi yelped, tears down her cheeks. she nodded fervently, desperately grinding her hips down your hand. "words, darling," you cooed as you captured her lips with her, your tongue slid out to fiddle with the piercing on her lip, the metallic taste mixing with her usual taste of cigarettes in your mouth. you pulled away, making her whine and push forward to chase your lips. "words, se-mi. i want to hear words from you," you say, pressing a finger on her lips.

"please," her lower lip trembled, her eyes wide as begged. "i understand, just please..." she whispered.

"mmhm?" you hummed, capturing her lips again, sloppily kissing her as the lewd sounds of your fingers pushing in and out of her wet cunt filled the room. "fuck, you're like a waterfall at how wet you are right now," you gasped against her lips as you watched her wetness stain the couch below her.

"babe— princess— please..." she whined, rolling her eyes backward. "shhh, don't worry darling," you cooed running a hand through her damp hair, thrusting your fingers faster as you watched her build up her orgasm.

"i'm gonna— please—" se-mi pants loudly, gripping the blankets beneath her tightly as she lifted her hips, screaming your name.

"fuck, baby, that was so hot," you murmured amusedly as you watched her squirting.

"you think you can do that one more time?" you mumbled in her ear after she came down her high, running a hand through her hair lovingly.

safe to say after that, her attitude towards you had somehow changed. she'd stay with you in the mornings, make you breakfast, pick you up after work, and makes the best aftercare baths for you. she even asked you out on a proper date! all because you fucked that attitude out of her.

[niningtori]

the way we were before | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu for as long as you've known him. deep down, you've always thought that he loved you, too; so when he tells you that he's engaged to another woman, you decide to break it all off after a nasty fight in which he shows you just how little you mean to him. a life-ending accident seems to put your feelings to rest, for good. just when you think it's all over, however, you awaken to a time before everything fell apart; and you're determined not to repeat the same mistakes. it's just that beomgyu can't seem to let you go.

genre: ANGST (literally so much angst it's not even funny), romance, second chancelau, rebirthlau, she falls first but he falls harder, possessive!beomgyu

warnings: mcd (and rebirth), somewhat graphic depictions of death/a corpse, suicidal thoughts, you can interpret a scene at the end as somewhat suggestive but not really

word count: 12.7k

notes: this work contains a lot of angst... and that's coming from ME. this might be too sad to the point of being corny but luckily i was born on the cob. don't be mean to me tho i'm going thru it rn. feedback also means the world 2 me <3

some things are a matter of course. for example, when you were initially paired with beomgyu for a project in your senior year of college, it was a matter of course to fall in love with him. supporting him morally and emotionally while he struggled throughout the rest of the year and well into his adult career? well, that was a matter of course, too. being with him every day, spending every spare second you had with the intention to make him happy, and giving up any concept of self-preservation in exchange for even a morsel of his affection? the answer doesn’t even need to be said. through it all, you’ve suspected that all of the intimacy that you’ve nurtured will inevitably end up with you two being together, of course. 

you haven’t done any of it for the outcome. truly, you haven't. you make him happy simply because it makes you happy just to see him shine. he’s always been such a bright, sunny boy, and it’s always been enough just to be the one who helps maintain his true personality. it absolutely kills you to see him hurting, so it isn’t unusual to drop everything, be it work or social events, just to give him advice, give him comfort, or even just give him company. while he certainly doesn't show his affection towards you as profusely as you do to him, you know he cares about you. you can see it in the way he notices the little things about you, and in the way he listens to you with full attentiveness, even when you have nothing particularly interesting to tell him. when everyone talks over you, he tells you that he wants to hear what you have to say. and that’s enough.  

with all of this in mind, you jump at his invitation to hang out at his apartment. he’s been a little distracted lately, cancelling plans together for reasons unknown. it’s been odd, to be sure, but you know he’ll tell you whatever’s been bothering him soon enough. he always does. you greet him with takeout from his favorite restaurant in tow as a surprise, and he takes it with that smile you love so damn much. he looks a little nervous, but happy, mostly, and you don’t have to wait for very long before he clears his throat and announces that he has something important to tell you.

you try not to get your hopes up, but who can blame you for feeling a hint of anticipation? maybe he’ll finally confess his feelings to you. maybe that’s why he’s been a little weird. naturally, since your mind is racing so much with romantic hypotheticals, of course it comes as a shock to you that he simply says, “i’m getting married.”

beomgyu, notorious for never even having the time nor interest to date around, is not only dating, but engaged. your jaw drops when he tells you that it all happened so quickly, he doesn’t even know how it unfolded. all he knows is that once he met her, a whirlwind romance swept him up, and just a few months have been more than enough for him to know that she’s the one. in fact, as he so fondly declares, he knew it from the very first moment he saw her at the dinner between the company you two work for and her own. the one where you were his “date”. you knew that it wasn’t a real proclamation of love or affection for him to ask you to accompany him, but you can’t say that you weren’t beaming with pride and validation at you being his natural choice. when you arrived at the dinner, you remember some of your coworkers jokingly whispering to you to just make it official already. you spent the night mostly by his side, looking up at him in admiration and love. as it turns out, the time you spent fawning over him was equally spent with him falling in love at first sight with another woman. you weren’t even apart for very long, but apparently he met her when you two broke apart to mingle. 

it’s a kick in the chest, to put it bluntly. you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs, and you’re struggling to breathe. the first time you caught a glimpse of him, you knew that any attempts to stop yourself from falling in love with him were hopeless. his smile, his charm, his playfulness immediately had you enraptured. you’ve always, always known that he didn't have a similar experience with you, but you just assumed that he simply isn’t the type to be caught up in such childish romanticism. you've always loved him outwardly and persistently, and you've shown him that in every single way you possibly know how. you dared to hope that maybe he was just the type to quietly reciprocate. obviously, with how emphatically he’s professing his love for another woman, you were very, very wrong.

“what's the matter? aren't you happy for me?” you struggle to answer, but he continues as if he doesn’t notice. “you know, i was thinking you could be, like, my best man. i've seen people do it these days—you'd pretty much be my best woman. i really want you to do it. there's no one else i can think of to—well, actually, there's soobin, but you’re my—”

“beomgyu,” you sharply interrupt, wetness pooling in your waterlines. beomgyu may be a little emotionally slow, but he’s not stupid. you know he knows that you've had feelings for him since forever ago. while it hurts, the fact of them being unrequited isn't what really gets you; it’s the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to just tell the truth. he took advantage of your love for him, always calling for you when he needed you, without ever really doing the same for you. “what… what about us?” 

“what about us? you’re my best friend, and i want you to be part of my wedding,” he says smoothly, but you level him with a watery stare. as if realization finally dawns on him, he replies in a way you sincerely did not anticipate.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” he chuckles with a wave of his hand, and you really would’ve rathered him say literally anything else. you’d prefer it if he had just punched you in the stomach, actually, because that would feel considerably better than this… this humiliation. you’re silent for a moment before you feel the tears you’ve been struggling to keep in cascade down your face. to his credit, he has the decency to look uncomfortable, and his playful smile drops. before he can reply, however, you speak again.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me,“ you declare. “if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.”

“listen, i’m sorry that you’re hurt, but i really didn’t mean—” 

“are you really sorry that i’m hurt, or are you sorry that i showed you i’m hurt?” you cut in. “beomgyu, you don’t care about how i feel, just as long as you don’t have to be the one to deal with it.” 

“i’m—you're being unfair. i didn't want to hurt your feelings, i just wanted us to stay friends. what's so bad about that? don't you want that?” he seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can't wrap his head around why you'd ever be indignant at the fact that he stayed friends with you mainly for his own comfort.

“jesus christ, beomgyu! a real friend would never do this. you kept me around so i’d keep helping you with work, with life, with what the fuck ever. why can't you just be honest, after all this time? just don’t lie,” you spit.

“i'm not lying! you've helped me a lot, and i'm grateful for that, but you can't expect me to just owe you my feelings,” he snaps.

“that's not what this is about, and you know it,” you tremblingly reply, dignity cut right to the bone.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” your eyes burn with an intensity so great, it feels like they're being seared out of your skull. in this moment, you realize that he will never, ever respect you enough to consider you worthy of being leveled with. he doesn't think you're even worth the time. you're his silly, lovesick best friend who's absolutely delusional to the point of being laughable for suggesting that he actually take you seriously, for once. and that revelation breaks you like nothing else.

you won’t do this anymore. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and you don’t. 

“i never want to see you again,” you sob, and while it may seem juvenile to say, you truly mean it. before you can hear beomgyu reply, you dash out of the building and to your car. 

everything is a blur when you peel out of the parking lot and onto the road. your eyes are pouring out thick, hot tears, and you try your best to swipe them away as soon as they come, but it’s difficult when they’re seemingly endless. you don’t even attempt to hold in your sobs—they’re far too deep and frequent for that. if someone were to glance at you through their window, they’d think you were absolutely insane. and maybe you are, you don’t know. maybe you’re insane for thinking that things could’ve ever been any different. maybe you were just imagining everything that seemed like confirmation that he loved you back. maybe it was all a delusion because you wanted it so fucking badly. and maybe that’s your fault.

but did he really have to crush you like this? he knew you were in in love with him. he knew you were waiting for him. he knew what he meant to you. why couldn’t he have just been honest instead of stringing you along? to ask for him to return your feelings would’ve been too much, you've always understood that to be the case; but even to the bitter end, he’ll call you crazy before he tells you the truth. 

you try to keep yourself focused, but everything’s a blur with your eyes bleary with a film of tears. you have half a mind to just pull over and have a meltdown on the side of the road, but before you can do that, you hear your phone ringing. you pick it up in a frenzy, silently hoping that it’s beomgyu with an apology, but the number is unknown. you don’t even have time to feel disappointed before you look up and see that you’re barrelling past a red light. in a panic, you realize that you’re about to crash headfirst into another car. you swerve your steering wheel as hard as you can, seemingly avoiding danger, but the sight of a tree coming closer and closer into your vision paralyzes you with fear. you try to brake, but you’re going too quickly for it to be of any use. 

the collision is bone-shattering in the literal sense. you’d think you’d feel adrenaline alone in such a situation, but you can feel pain bursting out of every cell of your body as you still after being thrown back and forth in your seat. every organ, every bone, feels like it’s just been crushed, and not for the first time today, you’re struggling to breathe. 

as you slip out of consciousness, one immovable thought resounds in your head: i wish i never met him.

-

the sound of your alarm ringing pulls you out of the darkness. your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up in pure shock. while you pant—just trying to catch your breath—you grab your chest, clutching at your shirt as you feel your heart drumming erratically. did you survive? you scramble out of your bed and look in the mirror. there’s nothing on your face. no fresh wounds, bruises, no scars from what just happened. that can’t be right. you know you were torn up from the collision, and there’s no earthly way you came out of it unscathed. was it a dream? it can’t be; you can still feel the phantom of pain on every inch of you, even when there’s no indication of any material harm. you remember every second you spent before and after wrapping yourself around that tree. does that mean you’re dead? are you in the afterlife? 

that doesn’t seem right, either. you don’t know much about what the afterlife is supposed to be like, if there’s even one at all, but this feels too real and familiar. you reach for your phone, with its alarm still blaring, and as you hit snooze, you notice the date. it’s just a few months before… before everything happened. did you go back in time? is that even possible? you try to reconcile yourself with that fact for a long, long time. so long, in fact, that you don't even realize you're supposed to be heading to work until it's five minutes after you're supposed to be there. 

as if on cue, your phone rings with your boss’ contact displayed on the screen.

“hello,” he says as casually as anyone ever can. this just solidifies the idea that your accident must never have happened, because if it had, he certainly wouldn’t be greeting you as if it’s just another day. 

“h-hey,” you attempt to reply, and your voice is so choked and thick with emotion, he can hear how badly you’re struggling to speak at all. 

“is everything alright?” he asks, concern laced in his tone. that’s enough to make you break, and before you can stop it, you’re outright sobbing into the phone. 

“i’m—i just—i don’t think i can come in today.” you fumble for an excuse, but it’s difficult to think straight as you feel your mind breaking down. “i, um, i—” 

“hey, it’s okay. you can take the day off, alright? don’t worry about anything, just focus on feeling better.” his words, so comforting in nature, do nothing but make you cry even harder. it feels nice to be cared for like this. if you had the coherence to think so, you’d wonder how baffled he must be at your behavior. luckily, you’re far too gone to care. you think you end up stammering out something similar to a thank you, but you’re not quite sure. either way, the call ends, and you collapse onto your bed. you curl yourself up and tuck your knees to your chest as you grip yourself as tightly as you can. this is real. you’ve gone back. thank god, you’ve gone back. 

you cry and cry until no more tears will come out, and while you try to keep yourself awake as the hours pass by, the relief you feel coalesces with the enticing nature of your soft bed, so you can't help but drift off. it’s different from the way you drifted off mere hours ago. it’s a lot warmer and kinder, and you're so, so fucking tired, you don’t even want to fight it anymore. 

a knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. it’s a good thing, too, because you were having a nightmare. rejection, devastation, primal fear, mind-numbing pain, then total darkness repeated incessantly in your head for hours on end. you swipe away your tears, but they continue to flow as you practically drag yourself to your door. you’re so disoriented, you don’t even think to check to see who it is before opening it. what a mistake that turns out to be.

“hey! whoa—are you okay?” he asks, and who else could it be besides beomgyu? your heart pounds in your chest, and even more tears stream down your face as you let out a sob. his mouth contorts into a frown. his face, previously so endearing to you, makes you feel absolutely repulsed. you lost everything for the figure standing before you, and he has the nerve to ask you if you’re okay. a fire is ignited in your stomach, and you feel yourself on the precipice of carnal rage. while you’re trying to suppress that feeling, he speaks again. 

“i heard you called in, so i thought i’d check on you. do you have a fever?” he questions, reaching out his hand to check your forehead for abnormal warmth. without even thinking about it, you smack his hand away.

“don’t touch me,” you all but growl, but beomgyu is undeterred. 

“what’s the matter? i don’t care if you get me sick; i could use the time off,” he teases with a grin, but your face remains twisted up in pure anger. 

“get out,” you mumble between clenched teeth.

“what?” he asks, and it's unclear if that's because he's confused, or because he simply didn't hear you. either way, you don't care.

“get out,” you repeat, louder this time, but not lacking any of the previous anger. your erratic behavior is enough to finally irritate beomgyu. 

“fine, whatever. forget i even bothered,” he scoffs as he stalks out of the door. you slam it behind him before falling to the floor. this is your chance. you came back too late to avoid ever meeting him again, but it’s still good enough for you. from now on, you two will live completely separate lives spent being nothing to each other. owing nothing to each other. again, you find yourself sobbing in relief. 

-

when you return to work the next day, the first thing you do is head to your boss’ office. he looks relieved to see you for a moment before he notices the envelope in your hand. with the way his smile drops, you know he immediately knows what it is. 

“what’s that?” he asks, though the tension in the air is more than enough confirmation that he has no doubts about what the letter reads.

“my resignation,” you tell him. 

“may i ask what this is about?” he probes. no, he can’t, because even if you told him, he’d never believe you.  

“i just don’t think this position is right for me,” you deadpan, and the look on his face shows that he doesn’t really buy it.

“you’ve worked so hard for so long, and you want to give up now?” he has a point. your company is on the brink of a major deal with another company, which will result in a financial breakthrough like none other, if successful. as fate would have it, said company is the one in which beomgyu’s future wife works, and the dinner where the two of them met is the celebratory party for such success. you’d laugh at the circumstances if you could. “whatever the issue is, we can work it out. just don’t leave before we do this. we need you, and even if you want to leave after we close the deal, you’ll still be rewarded for everything you’ve done. don’t you want to see that happen?” you do. you really, really do. you’ve given so much of yourself for this opportunity, and you really want to see it work out. you guess, in a way, you already have seen it; but if you leave now, that’ll never happen. this particular project needs you to get off of its feet.

but can you really stand to see beomgyu for a second longer? have his mere presence fuck with your head? is it even worth it? you’re about to declare that it most certainly is not, but you stop yourself. the money will be good for you to start a new life. maybe you’ll move buildings, maybe even to a new city, maybe across the country, who knows? you’ll be more than comfortable with this potential payout, and then you can start a new life somewhere where you know nobody, and nobody knows you. 

“i want a new partner, at least,” you counter, and his face morphs into a grimace. he’s undoubtedly confused at your sudden aversion towards beomgyu, but he doesn't mention it to you. 

“that’ll be difficult. i need you both for this to work.” you’re about to flatout deny him, but he continues. “if you can just make it through this, i promise that you can go wherever you want to go, and i’ll even give you a bonus for your trouble. deal?” you purse your lips as you mull it over. if you can suffer through being partners with beomgyu, your move will be considerably easier. still, you’re undecided before you have an epiphany: in just a few months, beomgyu will meet his future wife and fall head over heels in love with her. all you have to do is ignore him until then, and he’ll inevitably leave you alone once he meets her. so what if beomgyu’s here? you don’t want to care about him anymore. and once everything’s settled, you’ll pack your life away and start somewhere without the bad memories. 

“okay,” you reply, and his face breaks out into a grin. 

-

beomgyu is very visibly ruffled today, which you would immediately notice if you just spared him a glance, but you do no such thing. your lack of attention towards him serves to only rile him up even further. he wants to be stubborn—act out until you apologize to him, but once he realizes you have no intention of doing so, he finally relents and approaches you.

“hey,” he says coolly, still a little annoyed, but prepared to forgive you. you look up at him blankly, and he’s unsettled by just how empty your eyes look, so he nervously asks you, “are you… are you feeling better?” you look at him as if he just spouted the most asinine question of all time, and for the first time ever, he feels small under your gaze. he shifts awkwardly on his feet before you break the silence. 

“i’m fine,” you tell him. he waits for you to ask him how he is, but the words never come. in fact, you turn away and bury your nose in your work as if he’s not standing there, waiting dumbly for you to respond as you usually would. well, whatever. you’ll have to talk to him, eventually. especially since you two are working on such a big project. 

you don’t really talk to him, though, aside from what’s absolutely necessary. for most of the day, you silently slide papers over to him without even deigning to look at him while you do it. when you do have to speak to him, your words are cold and detached, as if even speaking to him is a chore. it’s like you’re looking past him, almost. like you don’t even really see him, and he’s never felt as unsettled by a gaze in his life. 

at lunch, you quietly remain at your desk instead of joining beomgyu like you usually would, and you can't quite bring yourself to eat. you just feel sick by this entire situation, and while you know you need food to survive, you’re sure you’ll vomit if you try to eat anything. 

beomgyu, on his part, leaves you alone, though he desperately wants to try to get you to eat with him. he won’t admit it, but he’s actually afraid that you’ll reject him again. he doesn't know why, but the thought of you doing so slashes at his heart. this is a mystery to him. he shouldn’t really care if you reject him or not, since he’s been quietly rejecting you for years, but he can’t help it. still, as he watches you space out at your desk, he tries to will himself to bear the brunt of a possible denial before a coworker he recognizes approaches you.

you don’t even notice mingi walking up to you, so you jump in surprise when he greets you. you’re pretty familiar with him, but you’re not particularly close, so you’re a bit surprised by his arrival. 

“can i sit with you?” he asks, grinning as he asks it. you nod in response, and he grins even wider before he pulls up a chair and seats himself in front of you.

“are you going to eat?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“not hungry,” you reply. he frowns.

“you still need to eat. you need energy, especially since you’re working so hard.” you’re actually a little sheepish because of his words. so he’s noticed how hard you’ve been working? it feels nice to be appreciated. is he worried about you? 

“i’ll eat later,” you lie. he seems a bit reluctant, but he eventually nods. 

“make sure you eat, okay? i’ll—i’ll text you and make sure you have. is that alright?” you’re stunned for a few seconds before agreeing, and he ends up sliding you his phone so you can put your number in it.

beomgyu watches it all from his desk, and he feels a sense of loss. is it because you’re directing your attention elsewhere? that has to be it, right? it can't be any deeper than that, but somewhere nearly unreachable inside of him, he feels an unfamiliar sensation scratching at his heart, begging him to  acknowledge it. but he shakes away the thought. you’re acting really weird, but that’s okay. you love him, and you’ll get back to normal really soon.

that’s what he tells himself, but you remain as cold as ever throughout the rest of the week. you don’t look at him with those adoring eyes, and you don’t even crack a smile at his attempted jokes. he feels like he's going insane, as if he's on the brink of understanding something really important, but he can't quite make it there. 

it all comes to a head when beomgyu shows up late back from grabbing lunch. he's done this a million times before, and he's always been greeted by your insistence that his tardiness isn't a big deal. in spite of the tension between you two, he still assumes that you'll be as forgiving as ever.

“hey, sorry i'm late. i got caught up with eating and didn't realize how late it was getting,” he says casually. he searches your face for any traces of leniency, for the indulgence you used to give him, but there is none. only anger, and maybe even something like regret, though he can't quite understand the latter.

“don't be late again. we don't have time for this,” you say coldly before sticking your nose back into your computer, effectively ignoring anything else beomgyu could say to placate you.

you two work late into the night. beomgyu gets so caught up in his work, too afraid to draw your ire again, but when he realizes he hasn't heard any noise coming from you in a while, he peers over to see you staring blankly at the wall. your face seems expressionless, but your eyes are what horrifies him. dead, empty, hopeless. “a-are you okay?”

the sound of his voice does nothing to break you out of your trance, however. in fact, it seems to have triggered something in you, decimated a dam that was already leaking. your eyes still look blank as tears begin to leak out of your eyes. they fall slowly at first, then incessantly. it's hard to reconcile the steady stream with the way your face remains completely devoid of emotion. 

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. suddenly, you're jolted awake, eyes now looking as composed and indifferent as ever.

“are you okay? w-what's wrong?” he asks anxiously, 

you hurriedly wipe away your tears before you say, “nothing. just thinking about something.” you redirect your attention to your work, just trying to fully shake the way you were just locked into the memory of you dying alone.

“what could you possibly be thinking about to make you look like that?” he asks concernedly, his voice unintentionally rising in frustration. your eyes harden before you turn to him.

“none of your business,” you say firmly. before he can say anything, you're packing up your things. “i'm going to call it a night and go home.”

“wait! talk to me! what's been bothering you so much lately? you've been weird for a while now, so just tell me what's going on with you. i'm here. i'm listening,” he says as gently as he can.

“you're here? you're listening?” you sneer. “i'm so honored that you finally give a fuck about how i'm feeling,” you say sarcastically. he frowns at your words.

“what are you talking about? i'm always here for you,” he says, and he looks so genuine, it makes you even angrier. he sincerely thinks he's telling the truth. so fucking clueless and selfish.

“are you? do you think offering up your ear once in a blue moon makes you an altruistic angel or something?” you know he can't understand that you're throwing his own words back in his face, because he can't even remember saying them, but you don't care. it just feels too damn vindicating to stop yourself. “beomgyu, you're only as available to me as is convenient to you. you'd never put yourself out of your way to comfort me. meanwhile, i've always been ‘here’ and ‘listening’ at your will. i don't need your pity, and i certainly don't want it.” he's stunned into silence. you're absolutely correct, he realizes with a sinking feeling. before he can formulate the words to defend himself, you pack up your things and leave the office.

-

in the following weeks, you realize that mingi is… nice. really, really nice. you’re not used to prospective romantic partners actually seeming to like you, so the feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. do you have feelings for him outside of appreciation? well, not really. in the back of your mind, you honestly doubt that you’re even capable of having feelings for other people anymore, but you try not to think about it too much. if you seriously search for an answer, you fear you won’t like what you find.

mingi is diligent, though, and you like that about him. now that you’ve made it clear that you’re not involved with beomgyu (and never want to be), he’s pulling out all the stops to charm you. lunches you would previously spend with beomgyu are now spent laughing with mingi. in the same way, downtime at work, which would normally entail catching up with beomgyu and maybe helping with a few of his assignments, are now reserved for chats with mingi. as beomgyu watches you two giggle with your heads together, he wonders what you two could possibly be talking about to ever be that funny. his jaw ticks in irritation at the scene. most notably, though, is the fact that instead of spending your off days with him, you flatout reject him with no explanation. not even with a perfunctory “sorry”. he doesn't have to wonder what you’ve been doing when he hears your coworkers gossiping about how you're always hanging out with mingi. 

beomgyu feels you slipping away, and it brings a sense of panic he’s never known before. but why? he shouldn't care about your romantic endeavors. granted, you haven’t had one during the entire time that you've known him, but it’s only natural that he supports you as your best friend. best friend. does that term even apply to him anymore? he wants to insist that it does, but as the weeks turn into months, your disgust for him becomes clearer and clearer. as he sits across from you and mingi at an after-work dinner with your department, he watches as mingi flirtatiously whispers into your ear. when some of your coworkers tease the two of you about it, he realizes with sickening certainty that he doesn't just want to be your best friend, he wants to be the one who sits next to you. he wants to be the one your coworkers joke about being your boyfriend, and he wants them to be right about it. the time you two have spent apart has shown him that he can't imagine anyone else occupying the space beside you. with an overwhelming sense of clarity, beomgyu realizes that this feeling, so deep and all-consuming, is love.

how could he not love you? regardless of everything you've done for him, you're still so perfect to him, for him. he finds himself appreciating things he previously took for granted. you're beautiful, caring, funny, and smart. he loves your smile, your laugh, your company. he loves the way you look when you're focused, the way you look so innocent when you sleep. you're the first person he wants to tell any time something happens, good or bad. you're the face he wants to wake up to in the morning. you're the only person he trusts to be his partner for the rest of his life. and now, it's clear that he can't just let you go without a fight.

as everyone begins to leave the restaurant one by one, he follows you out into the parking lot, determined to make his feelings known. even if you don't reciprocate them anymore, he's willing to put in the effort to make you love him again. and even if you don't… even if you can't… the desire to simply be next to you supersedes the need to be loved back. 

you don't realize that beomgyu is trailing after you until you get to your car. he calls out your name as you're about to pull the door handle. with a sigh, you turn around.

“what is it?” you ask flatly.

“are you serious about mingi?” he asks firmly, but he already knows that you are not. the way you look at mingi is laughable compared to the way you looked at beomgyu before your sudden change in behavior.

“yep,” you say.

“no, you're not. i can tell,” he argues with conviction.

“oh, and you know me so fucking well, huh?” you snark.

“i do,” he tells you, stepping closer. “i know you, and i know you don't really like him. not really.” damn. he caught you.

“just because i don’t like him now, doesn't mean i can’t like him later,” you insist.

“so what? you’re just going to string him along while hoping you’ll like him someday? are you just going to spend the rest of your life never really caring about anyone? you can't live like that.” his words leave no room for argument, but you’ll be damned before you don't at least try.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t lead him on, but what’s it matter to you? even if it doesn't work out with him, maybe i’ll meet somebody who i can tolerate, and who can tolerate me. i don’t think i need anything more than that.” beomgyu flinches at your bizarre words, but he's already reconciled with the idea that even if you don't want him anymore, he'll still take whatever you want to give him with a smile on his face.

“then what about me? i… i can be that person.” he's so nervous, you can tell that it took all of his courage to say that. but who cares? 

“you can’t,” you argue.

“why not?” 

“that would mean i’d have to be able to tolerate you, and i don’t want to do that.” not anymore.

“why are you acting like this? you’re acting like i’m so fucking horrible, but you used to lo—” he stops himself, but you both know he was going to bring up the love you had for him. “i just want to know what changed.”

“i did. i changed.”

“but why? i mean, i didn’t realize it before, and i know i wasn’t always the best, but i’ve always had feelings for y—” 

“don’t even bother finishing that sentence. you don't like me at all,” you sneer, “you just don’t like seeing me move on.” this makes him pause, and even you don’t have the heart to pretend like you can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“why can’t you ever just believe me?” he asks quietly. “i’m telling you i love you, but you don’t even care. i’m saying that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but you’re acting like… like i'm disgusting to you.” he looks like he's about to cry, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“you don’t understand,” you reply in between clenched teeth. 

“then help me understand. i just want to know why. i just want to know how to fix it. how can i bring you back?” 

“you can't. look, i’m—” and you’re about to apologize, but you just can’t make yourself do it. “you’ll get it really, really soon. you won’t even remember feeling this way, i can promise you that, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“what are you talking about?” he says exasperatedly. beomgyu may not have always been the best of friends towards you, but he can recognize when you’re holding yourself back. “what aren't you telling me?” you purse your lips in response. 

“nothing. there's no point in saying anything, because you wouldn't understand even if you tried. you wouldn't remember—fuck, never mind. just let it go, beomgyu. i have.” but he can't just let it go. this whole fucking thing as an enigma to him. but your words are… odd. what do you mean he wouldn't remember? there's nothing to remember, no matter how much he tries. before he can respond, you get into your car and drive away.

-

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” beomgyu tells you, forcing an awkward laugh. your expression immediately crumbles, and he begins to shift uncomfortably when he realizes that he must’ve said the wrong thing. your silence is deafening, ringing in his ears, but he still tries to maintain a smile. maybe you’ll lighten up. maybe you’ll go back to the way you were before. maybe you’ll even crack at smile at this ridiculous situation when you realize that he’s right in his assumption that you’re just being emotional. your feelings for him can only go so deep, right? you can go back to being friends after this, just the way he likes it. 

his smile is wiped clean off of his face when your eyes redden and well up in pure, unadulterated hurt. hurt he’s never seen before. he fumbles for the right words, but before he can find them, you break the suffocating silence. 

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me. if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.” any delusions beomgyu has that you’ll just let this go are promptly flushed away at your biting tone. jesus christ. you’re right, and he knows it. he flounders for a response, but nothing he can possibly say could really be enough. 

he spends the duration of the argument mainly trying to defend himself. honestly? he doesn't want to remember everything you two say, but he knows he's being nasty in an effort to keep himself from reconciling with the fact that he is, indeed, a coward. he knows he’s never been the greatest friend to you, though he’s always justified it by recalling the times where he did do thoughtful things for you. when you tell him that your resentment isn’t about the fact that he doesn't feel the same way, but because of the fact that he won’t own up to his actions, he feels a stab to his pride. before he can stop himself, he lashes out. 

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” he regrets the words as soon as as he says them. every syllable seems so vile as they leave his lips, but he can't stop himself. when he sees you crack at his words, he really wishes he had just kept his fucking mouth shut. 

“i never want to see you again,” you choke out between sobs, and he feels a piercing pain shoot through his body, all the way down to his bones. you don’t mean that. there’s no way you mean that. you care about him. you love him, and even if he doesn't feel quite the same way, he loves you, too. but one look at your resolute face is enough to tell him that you mean it. he wills himself to say something—anything—but you rush out of the door before he can quite muster up the courage to speak.

he stands in a stunned silence for longer than he could ever rightfully justify, but a call from an unfamiliar number eventually pulls him out of his daze. usually, he’d reject it and chalk it up to spam, but something tells him that he should—needs to—answer it. with shaky hands, he accepts the call. 

“h-hello?”

the response mostly sounds rather clinical in nature, really. there’s a perfunctory greeting before the monotone voice detachedly states that there’s been an accident, and he will need to come to the coroner’s office to accurately identify the corpse, which had been declared deceased at the scene. as it turns out, he was your first emergency contact. 

“we are deeply, deeply sorry.” the final words are the only ones that seem to hold any hint of an emotion in them, but beomgyu is too preoccupied to hear it. in a daze, he gets in his car and makes his way to the coroner’s office. hoping, praying, needing for this to be a bad dream. as he comes to find out, it is not. 

-

beomgyu’s head whips up in horror, and he’s panting like mad in between whimpers. tears incessantly pour out of his eyes, wetting his flushed cheeks. was it all a dream? there’s no way; it was too real to be a dream. he was there—he lived it. no, no, no…

“beomgyu?” a voice says, somewhat breaking him out of his panic. his bleary eyes snap up to the doorway to see you standing there, your eyebrows knit with concern and confusion. you two have been working late again, awkwardly alone together once more after his confession. you saw that he had fallen asleep, but he looked so tired, you couldn't bring yourself to wake him up. “are… are you okay?” he's absolutely frozen as you tentatively approach him, pausing a bit uncertainly before approaching him to get a closer look. he grabs you and tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in an almost bruising grip. he nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent in between shudders. 

“beomgyu, are you sick? did you have a bad dream?” you ask. his heart would flutter at your concern, concern you haven’t shown him for so long, in any other context; but as it is, he’s far too distraught to appreciate it. 

“i… i remember,” he croaks, trying to get even closer to you, as if doing so is the only way to keep you safe. you’d like to break out of his embrace, but he’s so distraught while you’re so off-guard, you don’t do it just yet. 

“remember what? something about the project? we can—” 

“no. i’m—i remember… i remember losing you.” he can’t quite bring himself to be any clearer, but you seem to understand him, anyway. you stiffen in his arms before prying him off of you. he fumbles for you, just to touch you again, but you push him away. you exert very little force, but it’s firm and unrelenting. 

“oh,” you reply, looking a little lost, but mostly just cold. he's basically wailing now, but he tries his best to answer.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry. i didn’t—” 

“what, you didn’t mean to? you’re sorry? maybe so, but  does it matter?” you cut in, almost snarling. now that he remembers, all of the feelings, all of the resentment you’ve kept bottled up come tumbling out of your mouth. “what's the point in telling me this now, after everything? you’re not sorry, beomgyu. you only care because i’m—because i was gone. i don’t want to hear about your regrets; they’re worthless to me.” he recoils as if you just punched him. his eyes turn even redder than they were before, too, and he’s silent at your words. 

he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, because he really is sorry, but can he truthfully say that he’d realize his feelings if you didn’t… go? he can’t. for all he knows, he’d have rejected you forever. he's so ashamed, he'd rather die than feel this way. even so, he wants to attempt to explain himself; you deserve that much. before he can reply, however, you rise and stalk towards the doorway. it’s reminiscent of the way you left when everything happened, and he desperately tries to follow you, grabbing your arm before you can make it out the door. 

“don’t touch me. don’t you ever touch me,” you seethe, ripping yourself out of his grip as if the mere feeling of his hands on you burns through your skin, and he staggers backwards. he keeps his arm somewhat outstretched, though. just in case you change your mind.

“don’t leave like this. i-i don’t want you to get hurt.” not again.

“what’s it matter to you?” you sneer. “you didn’t care before, so i won’t waste my life on you ever again.” his eyes widen in terror, and tears fall even more profusely than they already were. you begin to leave, but to your regret—and to his anguish, the angriest part of you forces you to turn around and face him again.

“do you want to know what my last thought was?” you ask, face mostly blank besides the slight traces of disdain in your eyes, and he’s too terrified to move or even speak at all. he knows whatever you say will be something that breaks him, so he tries to shrink himself to be as small as possible; subconsciously praying that doing so will make him disappear in the face of your anger. still, your eyes remain locked on his face—narrowing in on him regardless of his efforts. “it was of you, actually. i was wishing i’d never met you.” he visibly flinches as he gasps sharply, feeling like you just knocked the air out of his lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe. it would have felt better if you had just ripped his heart out of his chest, because as it is, it’s aching so badly, he wishes you had. 

his lips tremble, and he looks like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. and he has. you hate him that much? you regret all of the time you had together to the point of wishing it had never happened? he’s never, ever regretted a moment he’s spent with you, but he guesses your company has always been better than his. how could it not be? you’ve always given him more than he could ever reasonably ask for, and even if you hadn’t, you’re still a much better person than he is. better to the extent of making him realize just how unworthy he is.

he lets you leave, but his anxiety makes him frantically pace about the room. he tugs at his hair, willing himself to calm down, but he just can’t. after a few minutes, he texts you and asks if you made it home. to his relief, it says that you’ve read the message, so he knows you must be okay. still, you don’t respond. 

-

the deal is tied up exceptionally smoothly; you’ve done it before, after all, so that comes as no surprise. on the night of the celebratory dinner, you take mingi as your date. you’ve already told him that you don’t see things panning out, but he actually takes it really well. maybe telling him that you’re planning on moving helped smooth things over. still, he insists that you accompany him to the dinner, just as friends. you oblige. 

it’s mostly the same as you remember. you spend the night mixing with your coworkers for the last time, and it’s bittersweet. they don’t know that this will be the last time you see them, as your two weeks before resignation have already passed in secret, and you’ll spend the next few weeks just packing and finding a new place to stay far, far away from here. it’s freeing, in a way. 

at some point, your manager announces that he’ll be making a toast, and the room quiets as everyone’s attention is placed on him. 

“firstly, i’d like to celebrate the success of this collaboration. everyone has worked hard to make everything come to fruition. secondly, i’d like to recognize two of the people who made this possible.” he specially thanks you and beomgyu, which is normal, but the unexpected happens when he voices his regret that you’ll be resigning. 

your coworkers look at you in shock, but one person in particular is especially stunned. beomgyu. your manager probably thanks employees of the other company, too, but he doesn’t hear it. other voices, other people, are drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. you’re leaving, and it's all because of him. 

he tries to drown his feelings in alcohol, stomach burning with every round, but the regret never seems to numb. the room seems to be spinning, and he looks visibly ill. eventually, a familiar figure takes a seat next to him. ah. his previous fiancée.

“hey,” she says, somewhat coyly. he doesn't respond. “wow, are you okay? you look a little green. how are you getting home?” again, he doesn't respond. she actually appears to be embarrassed, but she tries one more time. 

“i actually—i came over here because you're really… cute. if you don't have a way home, i can take you. i won't try anything on you, but i can't just let you go home alone. and maybe, you know, when you're sober, we can—”

“beat it,” he snaps. he knows it’s not her fault, and that she hasn’t done anything, but he still can’t help his resentment, even when it should all be directed towards himself. but his recognition of his unfairness isn’t enough for him to care. she blinks in surprise and embarrassment, rising from her seat in defeat. 

beomgyu continues to drink until he’s on the verge of passing out, putting his face in his hands. he draws attention from everyone, but he doesn’t have the mind to care. people try to approach him, but he flatly rejects everyone who attempts to offer their help in order to ensure that he gets home safely. 

“should you… should you take him home?” mingi asks. it’s obvious who he’s referring to.

“it’s not my problem,” you reply, a bit more curtly than you intended. 

“you’re right, it’s not. but you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and i think you know that.” mingi argues. you sigh. he’s right. as much as you want to blame beomgyu for everything, you’ve come to realize that after the conversation—more like confrontation—you two had, you’re not angry anymore. it was hard to see in the moment, but you’ve begun to question your merciless stance towards him. isn’t it partially your fault that things turned out the way they did? he didn't make you check your phone that day, so isn’t it unfair to completely blame him for everything? 

with this in mind, you approach him. he initially bats you away, assuming you’re just another one of his coworkers, but your voice pulls him out of his drunken stupor.

“c’mon. i’ll take you home.” his head whips up in surprise, and he almost thinks you’re joking, but your face is completely serious.

“o-okay,” he replies, sounding extremely docile. you don’t respond, but you begin to walk ahead of him as you head to the exit. he’s having a hard time even following you as he clumsily staggers through the crowd, following you like a lost puppy. hesitantly, he reaches out for your hand, though the fear of you telling him not to touch you remains. you turn back to see his fingers hesitantly outstretched to your hand, and with a look of resignation, you let him grab it as you lead him out.

the ride to his home is a silent one. beomgyu rests his head upon the cold window as he stares at the scenery outside. he doesn’t really take anything in, far too dazed to appreciate the view, but he looks, anyway. 

when you enter his apartment, begrudgingly letting him lean on you for support, you take him to his bedroom. he plops down onto his bed in an unnaturally clumsy manner. 

“th-thanks for taking me home,” he says meekly. 

“mm,” you reply, no inflection of emotion in your tone, getting ready to leave and head to your apartment. 

“w-wait! can you… can you stay here tonight?” you look at him doubtfully, but before you can resolutely deny him, he begins to retch. with widened eyes, you pull him up and drag him to his bathroom. he hunches over the toilet and lets everything go. he’s trembling after he’s finished, and you clean him up as best as you can. he melts into your touch as you gently wipe his face. you’re not soothing him with your words like you would’ve a few months ago, but your care, no matter how unwilling you seem to give it, is something he revels in. he brushes his teeth, but he keeps his eyes on your pensive reflection in the mirror. after he's finished, you speak.

“i’ll stay,” you tell him. 

“w-what?” he questions, eyes watery.

“i’ll stay for tonight. i’ll take the couch. i just don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling like this. it’s dangerous.” 

“n-no! you can stay in the guest room.” 

“i need to be able to hear you if something happens,” you argue. 

“th-then i’ll sleep on the couch. i don’t want you to—” 

“beomgyu, you need to properly rest. if you don’t sleep in your room, i’ll leave.” his face crumbles before he acquiesces with a strained nod.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a smile at his blind obedience, but he's too drunk to notice it. if he had, he would’ve clung to it like a man drowning. 

“thank you,” he solemnly whispers.  

“goodnight, beomgyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you rifle through his drawer for some clothes before heading to his living room and changing. you pull out spare blankets from his linen closet before sliding onto his couch.

you sleep rather peacefully, but beomgyu has no such luck. instead, he's pulled into a dream—one he comes to realize is a memory.

-

when beomgyu arrives at the coroner’s office, there is a moment, albeit brief, that he sickly hopes that it’s literally anyone else in the world, but when he sees you—body mangled nearly beyond recognition—he realizes that there is no such mercy. apparently, you didn't even die on impact, but by the time somebody reached you, you were already gone. he doesn't want to imagine how you must've felt, being alone in your last moments, but he feels like he should. against the warnings of the coroner and surrounding police officers, he demands for your face to be uncovered. he can surely identify you based on frame and clothing alone, but for reasons he doesn’t dare to dwell on, he feels like he just has to see. he just has to be sure. he just has to know what he did to you. 

and he does come to know it. to his eternal regret, he begins to know it at that moment, and consequently, every moment after. as it turns out, they suspect that you were looking at your phone before you swerved off of the road. he doesn’t know how, but he’s instinctively sure that it’s because you were waiting on his call. one  resounding thought thrums incessantly in his head: it’s all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

your face is bloody, barely even showing any of the underlying skin, and marred from shattered glass. he swallows thickly as he reaches out to touch you, running his hands over the gashes on your face as softly as he can as to avoid hurting you, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s at all possible for him to tend to your wounds. he would go over single one, softly patching you up back to normal; but you're already cold to the touch, and though you definitely can’t feel anything, his mind imagines how much it must hurt to have him caress the gaping wounds on your face. he snatches back his hand, as if his touch is poison to you. 

“s-sorry, i’m really sorry!” he panickedly exclaims. “i-i won’t—i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s unsure if he means that in the current physical or the previous emotional sense, but does that really matter? he already has. besides, you can’t feel anything anymore. all of your muscles are relaxed, leaving you devoid of any expression as your eyes hollowly stare up at the ceiling. for a moment, he wishes the hurt he saw in them a mere hour ago was still there. anything would be better than the current blankness of your features. 

the blankness remains, however, even after all of the makeup and superficial repairs done to make you look like you’re only peacefully asleep. to him, you just look dead, no matter how badly he wishes the former were the case. as much as he wants to speak at your funeral, he does not. he doesn't deserve the dignity to speak, much less to properly mourn you. not after what he said to you. not when everything that's happened is all his fault.

the breakup with his girlfriend—or fiancée—is more bothersome than he can handle. in between her pleas and attempts to reason, all he can do is coolly recite the constant refrain: “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to be with you.” she tells him he’s just grieving, that he’ll get over it with time, and she wants to support him while he does it; but he montonously repeats his words as if they're the only ones he knows. in her anger and desperation, she tells him he’s making a mistake, and that he’s just feeling guilty because of your unrequited love, which ultimately proves itself to be the categorically worst thing to say. he finally explodes, telling her that she was the mistake, that he doesn't know what he ever saw in her that even closely compares to you, and he'd take every moment with her back if he could. she's the biggest regret of his life, which previously felt like it had only just begun, but now feels like it stretches far beyond what he can tolerate. 

in the days, weeks, months that follow, he struggles to understand how something so unjust could occur. it doesn't make sense. really, it just doesn't make sense. eventually, even his initially patient friends grow weary of his neurotic harping upon how unfair it is, how sudden and wrong it all is. he should be punished. you shouldn’t have had to be the one to suffer, but you were. what kind of justice is that? what kind of universe allows something so cruel to happen right under its nose?

when everyone finally tells him that it’s time to move on and let go, he resorts to speaking to the only person who can’t argue back. you. he visits you every day, bringing you gifts on christmas and your birthday, and even just when he sees something he think you'd like. in a way, they’re almost like sacrifices to you to atone for what he did. his contrition. he spends many of his visits by raving like a man gone mad at a stone slab. he likes to think that you’re agreeing with him, that you see the unfairness for what it is. he’s realized that he loves you, has always loved you, but he was too self-absorbed to notice. as hypocritical as it is, he’s only noticed after you�� left, and he’s more disgusted by himself than he ever thought possible. still, he thinks you deserve to know. you deserve for him to be brave and tell the truth, but who cares? what’s the use of only recognizing it after everything he’s done? 

he apologizes to you while crying about how much he misses you. he tries to tell you about other things, too. about the things he thinks you would’ve liked to hear. about current events he decides you’d find funny or interesting, about life updates on your friends that you’d want to know, about how a new album has been released by an artist you really liked, and that he can't quite bring himself to listen to it yet. he’ll definitely listen, though, someday. he’ll give you his opinions after describing each track in great detail, once he’s able to bear it, that is. you always look(ed) forward to their releases, so it’s the least he can do to repay his debt to you. 

but if you owe someone a debt as deep as their life, how can you repay that debt when they’re no longer here to collect it? if he really thinks about it, there are a lot of things he owes you. he owes you the years you spent caring about him when he couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate a fraction of the same courtesy. he owes you every thoughtful action, every encouraging word you wasted on him. he owes you the time you dedicated to make sure he always felt seen, felt understood, felt loved. yes, he owes you a lot of things—too many to properly account for, actually. and now, he even owes you your life. his debt is so heavy, he crumbles under it every day, squirming pathetically beneath the crushing weight of it all like an insect. the worst part is: he owes you more than you ever asked him for. all you wanted in return was honesty, but it appears that even that was too much to ask from him.

he wishes you were here to punish him, to scorn him for being such a fucking bastard. yell at him, hit him, kill him. anything would be fine—he’d tolerate it all—just as long as you were still here. he’d be perfectly content with your hatred, he’d revel in it, even; but he supposes that he doesn’t even deserve that much. as it is, your silence is the most punishment he can receive, but that doesn't feel like it's even close to enough. he finds himself praying for mercy, for some bizarre, cosmic event to put him out of his misery once and for all. he indulges in the idea that if he plays his cards right, if he begs and pleads enough, he’ll find you again. such a notion is initially enough to placate him, but it is to his horror when he realizes that he’s more afraid of that than anything else. what if he finds you, and you tell him, “i never want to see you again,” just like before? such a terrifying outcome is enough to keep him from snuffing out his own light with his own two hands for good. he’d rather live as if he were dead than hear those words again.

so he does. he lives like that for years, decades, until death mercifully takes him. he lives quietly and utterly alone. no wife, no children, and hardly any friends. if your life was robbed from you by his actions, then it’s only right that he lives as if his own were robbed from him, too. it’s the least he can do to atone for what he’s done. what keeps him up at night, though, is the possibility that it’s just not enough. if you do meet him again, what will you say? will you still tell him that you don't want to see him? that the lifetime he spent regretting everything he's ever done pales in comparison to the price you paid for caring about him? as the darkness overcomes him, however, he realizes that you deigning to say anything at all to him is better than your unbearable silence. his final thought before he's swallowed whole is: please, just let me see you one more time.

-

beomgyu awakens in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he struggles to understand where he is. is he still alive? that can’t be right—he clearly felt himself slipping away. but what if he can’t die? what if that’s his punishment? the thought alone is enough to elicit a guttural, “no, no, no!” out of him as he realizes that his nightmare is not yet over, and may very well never be. tears pour down his face as he wails like a child.

“beomgyu?” you say as you walk through the doorway, looking somewhat sleepy and disheveled in clothes he subconsciously registers as his own. when he looks at you, he's relieved, but the regret he feels is what overwhelms him.

“oh, god. i'm—it's all my fault.”

“what?” you ask, still a bit disoriented from just waking up, seeing as how it's still the middle of the night.

“it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault. i did that to you.” suddenly, you realize what he’s saying, and your heart clenches at his words.

“beomgyu, no. i was distracted. i didn’t see—”

“you were distracted because of me. you thought i was calling you, i just know it. you were there because of me. because i’m a fucking coward who couldn't just tell you the truth.” you don’t know what to say. did he really blame himself for everything? even after all of this time? before you can answer, he speaks again.

“i saw—you just looked so small. i've never—i didn't even think anyone could bleed that much. you were so cold, a-and your face was—” 

“hey, hey, hey, stop it,” you say firmly, but gently, “you're not—” 

“they said you died at the scene, all… all alone. and i know i was the one who did that. if i had just listened to you, if i had just been honest with you, you would've been alright. but i called you crazy. i said you were being stupid. w-why did i say that? what did i do it for?” 

“look at me,” you say firmly, which makes his unfocused eyes zero in on you. “listen, listen to me. it's not your fault, okay? i used to feel like it was, but now i understand that you were scared. i know you couldn't control how you felt about her, and you were right about you not owing me your feelings. you could've been honest, but that doesn't mean you killed me.” 

“no, i did it. i did it. i did that to you. if i had just—”

“gyu,” you sigh, and his heart can’t help but stutter at the nickname you haven’t called him in months. “i’m telling you it’s not your fault. i used to blame it all on you, and i was wrong for doing that. but you get it now, right? you're supposed to be with her. you love her.”

“no, no, no! i don't. i really don't,” he desperately exclaims, trying to convince you in the only way he knows how.

“maybe not yet,” you concede, “but you will. once you get to know her, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with her. that's how it's supposed to be, just like before.”

“there is no before,” he cuts in pleadingly. “i lived and died alone, just like i deserved. i just—i love you so much, i couldn't stand to let you go.” you frown at his words—they make you actually feel guilty. even so, you guess that it's time to let the purgatory you find yourselves in go. besides, maybe he needs an apology to finally put it all to rest. 

“i'm sorry that—” his heart drops to his stomach. please don’t say it. he’s begging you not to say it. not to someone as unworthy and filthy as him.

“don't. please, please, don't apologize to m—”

“—i made you feel that way. even when i hated you, i never wanted you to live like that; but you can't mistake guilt for… something else. maybe this is another chance to get it right. you can be with her guilt-free, and i can live without regrets.”

“no, i-i didn’t break up with her because of guilt! i did it because i realized that if it’s not you, i don’t want it to be anyone else. it can’t be anyone else.” 

“you don’t know that,” you sigh. “you think you feel that way, but you’re just sad that things ended how they did.” 

“you’re wrong!” he exclaims. “i didn’t realize it—i was too stupid to realize it. and i know it’s disgusting of me, but i only… i only understood it after i lost you. i-i’m sorry i didn’t realize it before, but please don’t tell me how i feel. i spent every day wishing i would just fucking die so i could see you again. i just couldn’t stand living without you. that’s not normal—that’s not how friends feel, no matter how guilty they are. i just wanted to die.” you purse your lips at his words as you feel dread pooling in your stomach. at least when you died, you didn’t suffer for long, but he suffered for the rest of his life. in the same way, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, no matter how angry you were. 

beomgyu has begun to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you—too afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. he’s probably having a panic attack as tears stream down his face, and he ruthlessly tugs at his hair in pure distress. all he can do is repeat that it's all his fault and how sorry he is, and any lingering resentment you may feel dissipates like smoke at his absolutely shattered state. it seems like he really can't live without you, so are you sure you can abandon him like this? you don't think so. although it may not be right, you still think that it's worth a shot. you don't think he has the capacity to hurt you ever again, and you realize that even after everything, you don't think you can love somebody the way that you love him. so, you're willing to let him try again.

“hey, hey. stop it,” you coax, seating yourself on his bed. but he can’t stop it, he physically can’t. he’s whimpering now, like a wild beast with a mortal wound. you don’t hesitate to take him into your arms, holding him tightly as you shush him. “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. don’t cry. i’m here, and i won’t leave again. i promise. just breathe, in… then out. that’s it, just like that. good job.” 

eventually, his breath begins to even out, though his body is still racked with shudders. you’re here. you’re okay. you promised that you won’t leave him, and you always keep your word when it comes to him. he finally feels like he can breathe, and even though he’s in so much pain, he still wishes this moment will never end. he wishes he could stay in your arms forever, never letting you leave his side. always staying where he can reach you.

“better?” you ask, pulling away to get a good look at him, but he shakily grips your sleeve in sheer desperation. he just has to be touching you, somehow. he forces himself to nod.

“good,” you say, eyes soft and lips slightly upturned in relief. he almost loses it again at the sight of your smile, no matter how small. he never thought he’d see it directed towards him again in this life or the next. “do you want to start over?” 

“s-start over?” he asks. he doesn't dare to let himself hope that you mean what he thinks you mean. 

“start over,” you nod. “we can try again, okay?” 

“oh, p-please,” he begs. he’s so pathetic. he doesn’t deserve your mercy, but he supposes he’s too selfish to reject it. you look at him for a long, long time with soft eyes. you’re not angry anymore—he’s suffered more than enough, and you finally believe that he loves you just as much as you love him, and maybe even a little more than that.

“you promise you won't hurt me again?”

“i promise. i swear to god—” 

without a second thought, you gently cup his face in your hands, which makes his words catch in his throat. his eyes widen as you lean in while pulling him towards you. when your lips meet, he’s electrified to his bones. he melts into the kiss, whimpering slightly at the feeling of your lips against his. when you break apart, you rest his forehead on his own, closing your eyes as he stares at you before he does the same. he clutches the hand you have on his face and grazes his thumb over it as he lets out a contented sigh. nobody has ever made him feel this way before, and if he could go back to the first day he met you, he’d tie you to him immediately. 

“thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers. with a smile, you press your lips against his again. he falls into the feeling just as easily as the first time, and you push him down before continuing to go even deeper. before completely giving in. 

you spend the night loving and being loved in a way that you never thought you could. you feel cherished to a degree you previously considered impossible. beomgyu reveres you as if you’re his god, and he shows you as much with how loving and gentle he is. when you’re finished, panting heavily against each other, he holds his hand against your cheek as he stares at you in awe.

“i missed you so much. i love you so much. i promise that nobody will ever love you as much as i do. i promise that nobody will ever treat you as well as i will. just don’t leave me, okay?” and when the time comes, even if you do leave first, he’ll be sure to follow you. he won't let you be alone ever again. but he definitely can’t tell you that, or else you’d yell at him for not caring about his life enough.

“okay,” you tell him with a sleepy smile, and he beams before kissing your forehead and letting you drift off. he stares at your peaceful face, resolving to always give you what you want, no matter what it costs him. even if it kills him, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to ensure that you're happier with him than you could ever be with anyone else. he'll prove to you how much he loves you, and he'll pay back the debt he owes you a million times over. you'll see. he’ll marry you, start a new life with you, and chain himself to you forever; which may sound selfish, but he’ll make up for his willfulness by being everything you could ever want and need. and finally, before he joins you to sleep, he thanks the universe for having mercy on him—for letting him see you again.

notes pt. 2: ... so? LMAOOOOO i hope this was worth the wait bc this work was so hard for me to get through it was making me so sad to write it. anyway, love yew. please don't be mean to me tho like if u don't like it just close your eyes n scroll 🙏

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[creatingblackcharacters]

I honestly think there is something in specifically white english teachers that make them foam at the mouth when it comes to having students read aloud books that contain the n word. In high school grade 10 we read to kill a mocking bird and my teacher was delighted to tell everyone that when reading it in class each student would read a chapter and that the book contained the racial slur and that it had to be said out loud. No one wanted to do that and when a few of the Black students in my class, along with some other Native and white students, were like do we have to its pretty insensitive the teacher then made it a rule where we had to say it or a mark would be deducted from the class participation for that unit since we were refusing to participate.

And yes there was some students who were delighted to say the word didn't matter the context as long as they weren't getting in trouble for saying it because racists will be racist. There was this one girl super shy and sheltered most of her life never even heard her say the word crap when it was her turn to read she literally broke down crying not wanting to say it and how uncomfortable it made her. The teacher just rolled her eyes and got one of the eager racist people in the class to say it.

When this was brought to our principal and school board they dismissed it since they didn't want to censor a book if it said that word it said it for a reason and by that we had to say it. I would also like to add this was a very white school with all-white teachers and a school board in a smallish town and also a catholic school. A few years later when a Native student and a Black student did projects on residential schools and the catholic church involvement, and Canada's emancipation day both students got in trouble for topics that weren't allowed. So much for not wanting to censor things huh.

"Canada's safer than the US" oh ho HO naat really!

Sidebar; It's time to let a book other than To Kill a Mockingbird be read in schools about racism. Is it a good book? Sure, and I'm not saying don't read it. But I shouldn't have to read from the perspective of a "good white" to get my only acceptable reference to dealing with racism in this world (and then told I HAVE to say the slur from the otherwise sanitized perspective, which apparently is still considered ban-able). But your English teacher wouldn't wanna hear that 😭 I'm sorry that someone like that was even allowed to be around kids, let alone teach.

[plumeria1]

Painted Love

Note : Here's my new Vi x Reader. Hope you like it 😊 Pairing : Vi x painter Fem Reader

Content : Fluff

Warning : None

Summary : You made a surprise for Vi

It was finally there, the letter you had been waiting for was finally in your hands. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to open it, too worried about the response.

A few weeks ago, a friend of your mother's had seen some of your paintings. She said that you had a lot of talent and that you deserved to see your works exhibited.

Without telling you, she had contacted her friend Mel Medarda, a renowned gallery owner in the city, and sent her some of your paintings to exhibit in her gallery.

The day she told you, you had a little argument, but she told you to give your art a chance, and you were convinced.

Mel was supposed to send you a letter indicating what she thought of your works and if she wanted to exhibit them.

And since then you had been waiting, sometimes spending hours thinking and asking yourself a bunch of questions.

- Stop stressing, I'm sure it's a good news.

Vi, your girlfriend, sat next to you on the couch and watched you stare at the envelope. Vi had always been by your side since the day you met her in high school, through the time your father disowned you when you confessed that you were lesbian.

That day, Vi had never let go of your hand, in fact, after that, she never let it go again.

- I will always stay close to you, I will never abandon you.

That's what she had told you after confessing her feelings. You had never been happier than at that moment.

- And what if she didn't like it and found it horrible ?

- Don't say that, you are very talented and if she doesn't see it, it's because she's an idiot.

You handed her the envelope.

- Open it.

She laughs softly, shaking her head, her pink hair following the movement of her head.

- No way, it's your letter, you open it.

You knew she was saying that to get back at you, after all, you had said the same thing to her when she received her university letter to find out if she had gotten the sports scholarship she had applied for.

You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pushing a long strand of hair behind your ear, you always did that when you were stressed. Vi had always found it adorable.

You slowly opened the envelope and read the letter carefully to make sure you understood its contents.

Vi watched you read, you furrowed your brows as if you couldn't believe what you were reading, and she saw your smile slowly grow.

- No way. I can't believe it !

- A problem ?

- No. Mel says she loved my paintings and wants to dedicate an entire exhibition to them. I have a week to give her my answer and if I say yes, the exhibition will be in six months.

- That's great, sweetie ! I knew you could do it.

You took her in your arms, crumpling the letter in the process, but you didn't pay attention to it. The question didn't even arise, of course you were going to accept.

The next day, you replied to Mel, saying that you accepted her proposal, and things seemed to move at lightning speed.

You spent hours in the workshop that Vi had set up for you in your apartment. Sometimes she had to come and get you to go to sleep, you grumbled just for show, but in reality, you loved falling asleep in her arms.

Sometimes she was curious to see what you were painting, and you let her look at each one except for the one you seemed to spend the most time on, which you covered with a sheet every time she came to see you.

You said it was the centerpiece of your exhibition and that no one but you had the right to see it.

Without you realizing it, six months had passed and the day of the exhibition had arrived. The room was crowded, and everyone present was looking at your paintings while chatting with glasses of champagne in hand.

You felt like you could hear the beating of your own heart, you kept fiddling with the long sleeves of your dress and looked around you.

A hand grasped yours and you found yourself face to face with Vi, who smiled gently at you.

- Everything will be fine stop worrying.

You held her hand and looked into her eyes, all your doubts disappearing like magic. Since you had known each other, she had always supported and encouraged you to the point of becoming your muse, even though you had never admitted it to her.

- I'm going to tell you something. I think I was waiting for this day almost as much as you were.

- How is that possible ?

- Because I was really looking forward to seeing that painting you didn't want to show me.

The sound of Mel's glass clinking silenced the entire room, and all eyes turned towards her, but especially towards the red velvet curtain hanging behind her.

- Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming today to attend the very first exhibition of this young artist who, as you may have seen, is very talented.

- It is now time to unveil the most beautiful piece of this exhibition. She signaled for you to come closer. You downed your champagne in one go and headed toward her.

- Good evening, thank you for coming. Before revealing this final painting to you, I would like to say a few words.

-First, I would like to thank Mrs. Medarda who organized this exhibition, but also my mother who has always encouraged me to paint.

-But there is someone I would like to thank more than anyone, it's my girlfriend Vi who has always been there for me in good times and also in bad. She was by my side every time I thought I wouldn't succeed, and it is thanks to her encouragement and her love that I am here today. She is my muse and she always will be.

You turned to her and smiled.

- So I really hope you like this painting.

- I painted this picture with my heart and put all my love into it. I called it "Passion."

When the curtain fell, revealing the portrait, the room remained silent for a brief moment that felt like an eternity before the applause began.

You could hear the people but you only looked at Vi. Her eyes were fixed on the portrait you had painted of her. She hadn't moved or said a word.

You slowly approached her.

- So, what do you think ? I've heard everyone's opinion except yours.

She turned to look at you.

- You painted me ?

- Yes, I wanted to immortalize everything I feel for you, and painting is what I do best, so I painted your portrait. You don't like it ?

- I love it, it's magnificent, I just don't know what to say, that's all.

She held you in her arms and kissed your forehead. But a question was on her mind.

- Why did you paint me as I was 16 ?

- Because that's what you looked like the first time I saw you and fell in love with you.

You kissed her gently. The rest of the evening passed quickly, you had spoken with almost everyone and had also kept Vi company.

People were starting to leave when Mel came to find you tell you one last thing.

- Congratulations ! Your paintings were very well received, you've already sold almost everything. Ther's a man who wants to buy Vi's portrait.

- It's not for sale.

Mel looked at you incredulously.

- I haven't told you the price he's willing to pay yet.

- It doesn't matter, it's not for sale.

- Very well, after all, it's your work.

Mel left with a small smile to announce that the painting was not for sale.

Later, you took the time to turn off the lights in the room and locked the door, then you saw Vi looking at you with curiosity. You raised an eyebrow.

- What ?

- Why didn't you accept ? You didn't even know how much he was offering.

-I don't care what price he would have put on it, I don't want a stranger to have a portrait of you in his house, who knows what he would do with it.

Vi laughed before placing her hands on your hips while you placed yours on her shoulders.

-Are you jealous ?

-Not at all, I'm in love.

You pulled her into a deep passionate kiss, then rested your forehead against hers with a smile.

- Anyway, even if he had the painting, you would still be the only one to possess the original.

- I certainly hope so.

After checking one last time that the door was properly closed, you took the hand Vi was offering you and you both headed home to get warm.

[allthingsfangirl101]

*About Damn Time – Jake Seresin

Warnings: public kink, unprotected, teasing, language

I walked in from training, instantly taking my hair out of my tight updo. I ran my fingers through my hair, well aware of the eyes that followed me through the room. I knew all too well who was watching me. That just made it even more fun.

It was no secret - to anyone - that Jake Seresin had a massive crush on me. I found out after about the third time he scared off the hot guy talking to me at the bar. In fact, no one comes near me because of him. Not that I minded. I only wish he would finally tell me how he felt.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N," Jake nodded as I walked into the auditorium.

"Lieutenant Seresin," I nodded. "You look good."

"We're in the same uniform," he stuttered.

"Relax, Hangman," I said, playfully patting his face. "It's just a compliment. You act as if no one has ever told you how handsome you are."

"You think I'm. . ."

"Don't act like you don't know it," I teased him. To send him over the edge – and to give him a hint– I kissed his cheek before heading over to talk to Phoenix.

"He cannot take his eyes off of you," she laughed as soon as I walked over to her. "That poor boy."

"Hey," I said, putting my hands up in defense. "All I'm doing is flirting and teasing him a bit."

"All you're doing is torturing the man," she said.

"It wouldn't be torture if he did something about his feelings," I shrugged. "It's been 13 months of this. You think he'll finally tell me how he feels about me now that we might be put on different ships?"

"I don't know, sweetie," she shrugged. "I hope he does."

"Me too," I sighed. "Maybe I should just tell him how I feel."

"I thought you said the whole reason you haven't told him is because you wanted to let him be the man and confess his feelings for you."

"I thought so," I mumbled. "But I'm getting tired of waiting for him to finally do something about it."

I walked away, heading to check in. Little did I know that Phoenix was running to the others and coming up with a plan.

* * * * *

After graduation, we all changed out of our uniforms and went to the unofficial party. I ended up showing up a little late and by the time I got there, everything was in full swing.

"There you are, Y/L/N," Jake teased me as I walked in late to one of the other trainee's homes. "I thought you ditched us."

"You know I would never," I smiled as I patted him on the arm as I passed. "I got stuck talking to and taking pictures with my family. They finally went back to the hotel after I promised I'd meet them for breakfast."

"Guess that means you can't get batshit drunk," Payback smirked.

"I never said that," I said, looking over at Jake and sending him a wink. "I'll be right back. I gotta get out of this uniform."

"Aren't you going to help her with that, Hangman?" I heard Coyote taunt Jake as I walked into the bathroom down the hall from the kitchen.

I quickly changed out of my uniform and into the light blue silk floor-length gown. I was about to zip it up when I got an idea. I opened the door, instantly seeing Phoenix.

"Hey, girly," she smiled. "Need help with your dress?"

"I do," I smirked. "Any chance you can push Hangman into the hall?"

She looked into the kitchen and laughed. "Honey, he is hovering around the corner, waiting for you to come out. I'll mention something to him."

"Thank you," I said sing-songy as I closed the door.

I heard as Phoenix mentioned me taking a while getting into my dress. Jake cleared his throat before I could hear footsteps. Just then, I peeked my head out of the bathroom.

"Jake!" I whispered loudly.

"Yeah?" His breath got caught in his throat when he turned around and saw me barely dressed. "What's up?"

"Can you help me zip my dress?"

"Sure," he said, his voice dropping. I carefully held my dress to my chest as I walked out of the bathroom and turned around. "Thank you, Jake," I said, sounding like I was relieved. "I was hiding in the bathroom and thought I heard Phoenix."

I looked over my shoulder to see Jake focused on the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra underneath my dress. "Everything okay, Hangman?"

"Yeah," he said a little too quickly. He slowly reached forward and grabbed my zipper. I hid my smirk when he carefully zipped up my dress.

"All good?" I asked.

"All good," he said, his voice catching in his throat. I turned around and didn't hide my smirk when he checked me out.

"Jake," I said, sounding concerned as I gently reached up and felt his forehead and cheek. "Are you feeling okay? You look kind of flushed."

"I'm fine," he stuttered.

"Let's get you a drink." I grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen.

"Damn, Y/L/N!" Payback laughed when we walked in.

"Jealous?" I smirked.

"I know someone who might be," Coyote mumbled, hiding behind his beer.

A few minutes later, I noticed Jake off to the side, listening to Fanboy, Phoenix, Bob, and Omaha argue about their fantasy football while I was listening to Rooster and Payback argue about who's got a better time on the track.

"I don't know why you boys are debating this," I scoffed. "Everyone knows that I've held the record for the fastest time since I joined your little training group."

"Y/N, can I borrow you for a minute?" Phoenix asked.

"Sure," I shrugged. "Not like I'm missing anything here."

"You are evil."

"How so?" I laughed. She looked into the living room, toward Jake.

"Do me a favor," Phoenix sighed as she looked back at me. "Please put that poor boy out of his misery and just tell him you feel the same. I can't handle him moping around and watching you from across the room with yearning in his eyes."

"I'm still waiting for him to tell me how he feels," I chuckled, sending her a playful wink.

"Well," she giggled, "let's give him a little push."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the other room. "Whatever happened with that guy from your hometown?" She asked a little too loudly.

"What guy?" Rooster asked, glancing at Hangman whose beer was frozen halfway to his lips.

"No one," I pushed off. "He was an old neighbor, growing up. Apparently, he's here doing his residency and looked me up. He wants to get drinks."

"You gonna go?" Coyote asked, no-so-subtly looking at Hangman.

"Not sure," I shrugged. "He's an old friend, but I haven't seen him in a while. Then again, it's not like there's anyone else with a better offer."

I pretended to see someone trying to get my attention and excused myself. Instead, I hid around the corner and listened to everyone badger poor Jake.

"You good, Hangman?" Rooster laughed.

"Yeah," Payback chuckled. "You look like you're gonna throw up."

"Or kill a man," Coyote mumbled.

"Maybe the guy who's been pestering Y/N to go out with him?" Phoenix teased him.

"You heard her," Rooster smirked. "She'd forget him if she had a better offer. Anyone know of a better offer?"

Part of me did feel bad for teasing him like this. Jake is actually a great guy. He got a bad rap when we first started training. Sure, he's 'Hangman' when we're flying, but he's not actually like that when we're on the ground. He's literally saved me from a drunk creep at the bar on multiple occasions.

I hadn't noticed that they had stopped talking until someone grabbed my wrist and pulled me around the corner. Once they had me against the wall, I saw it was Jake.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I scoffed as I pushed him off of me. "You can't go grabbing people, Seresin."

"I'm sorry," he said, not sounding like himself.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my own tone of voice changing.

"Yeah," he said with a soft smile. "I'm okay. I just needed to talk to you."

"And you thought kidnapping me was the best thing to do?" I taunted him. "There's this thing called a conversation."

My sentence got caught in my throat when he took a step forward, trapping me between him and the wall. I couldn't look away from his eyes as he slowly leaned in. I grabbed his face and closed the gap between us. Our lips instantly started moving roughly in sync as we wrapped our arms around each other.

We both let out moans as he pushed me firmer up against the wall. He broke the kiss and reattached them to my neck. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes as he explored from my collarbone to my ear.

"Shit, Seresin," I moaned.

"You've been driving me crazy, Y/L/N," he moaned against my skin. I gasped when he roughly kissed me again. This time, I broke the kiss and rubbed my hands up and down his chest.

"Follow me," I whispered. I grabbed his hand and led him down to the basement. The second we got to the bottom of the stairs, Jake turned me around. As soon as I was facing him, he leaned in and kissed me. I instantly wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Without breaking the kiss, Jake picked me up and put me on the counter. He opened my legs and stepped between them. Our lips moved in sync and our tongues danced as we held each other close. I ran my fingers through his hair as he slid his hands up my thighs, bringing my dress with him.

Unable to resist anymore, I roughly pushed him away. I hopped off the counter and landed directly in front of him.

I looked up at him with innocent eyes. "Can you help me with my zipper?"

His pout turned into a smirk when I turned around. He stepped up and dragged his hands up and down my arms. He kissed my neck as he slowly unzipped my dress. I turned around before letting my dress pool at my feet.

"Fuck," Jake moaned. "I knew you were gorgeous under that flight suit."

"You've thought about what I had underneath my flight suit?" I smirked. I reached forward and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"All the time," he moaned as I tore off his shirt.

"Well, good," I said as I grabbed the waistband of his pants and pulled him toward me. "To be honest, I've often thought about what you had underneath your flight suit. Especially when I am alone. . . Late at night. . . Or in the shower."

"Fuck," he moaned again as he crashed his lips onto mine. I wrapped my arms around him as he pulled me into his chest. He backed us up until we collapsed onto the couch. As Jake climbed on top of me. I pulled the waistband of his pants down.

Jake tore his lips away from mine as we finished undressing. His eyes glanced over my bare body before he rolled his body down mine. I arched my back and moaned when his body pressed firmly to mine, smashing all the right parts together.

"Oh Jake," I moaned as he continued to rub his body against mine.

"Fuck, Y/N," he moaned back. "I want you so bad."

"Then take me," I grunted loudly before grabbing his face and bringing his lips down to mine. "Finally take me."

Jake pressed his lips back to mine as we both adjusted. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed my leg and wrapped it around his waist. I arched my back and moaned against his lips as he pushed himself into me.

"Holy shit," he groaned against my lips.

"Oh baby," I moaned as I bit his bottom lip. He chuckled before focusing back on his hip movements. The more he moved his hips, the weaker mine got. I squeezed my eyes shut as the pressure built.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath. I opened my eyes to see him watching me.

"What's wrong, baby?" I purred.

"Nothing," he stuttered through his grunts. "Just watching your face change as I. . . As I make. . . Seeing the effect I have on you."

I arched my back, bringing my face closer to his. "Just you wait, baby. There's a whole lot more we got to do."

"Fuck!"

I gasped when his movements got deeper and sharper. He kissed my neck as I dragged my hands up and down his bare back.

"I have wanted you for so long."

"And I have wanted you," I gasped, Jake's movements cutting me off.

Our lips reattached as our hips continued to dance. We could hear the party going on upstairs, but neither one of us cared. We only focused on each other; our movements, our lips, our feelings.

"Shit!" I moaned as I reached orgasm.

"Shit," Jake echoed me. He gently pulled out of me but remained hovering over me. "Y/N," he whispered, "there's something I've been dying to say to you since we first met."

"And what's that?" I asked as I snaked my arms around his neck.

"I'm crazy into you," he said, pressing his forehead to mine. "The thought of not being with you literally drove me mad. Now, the idea of someone else getting to have you makes me ready to get kicked out of the Navy."

"Don't do that," I pouted. "Then I'll be all alone."

"I will never let that happen," he whispered.

* * * * *

After going another round, we quickly got dressed and tried to make ourselves look like we didn't just hook up. With matching smirks on our faces, we headed back upstairs.

"And where were you two?" Payback smirked as he folded his arms and studied us.

"Downstairs," Jake smirked, "in the basement."

He grabbed my hand and led me into the kitchen. I winked at Payback and the others.

"Finally," Phoenix chuckled. Rooster laughed as he agreed.

"About time they hooked up."

[lordprettyflackotara]

Follow You || Chapter Two || Eyeless Jack

sum: after returning to your college dorm room, jack just can’t stay away. this ends up resulting in an unfortunate run in with your unhinged roommate

tw: mentions of drug usage/drugs

a/n: i want to make it very clear i do not support drug usage as depicted in this story. this is a work of fiction and i would never encourage you to snort adderall lmaoo

chapter one is here

“You’re gonna be shaped like the letter C for the rest of your life if you sit like that.”

Jennifer’s voice was sour, an obvious sign she was sober. You looked over at your roommate, rolling your eyes. “You sit just like this, only you do it to get high, I do it for academics,” You countered. You wouldn’t consider your roommate, Jennifer, a friend. If anything she was far from it. She had long ginger hair, big green eyes, and freckles that decorated her cheeks. You had been assigned as roommates your freshman year of college. You both had heard horror stories of other people's roommates and decided although you weren’t fond of one another, you could tolerate each other's habits.

Giving Jennifer the benefit of the doubt she wasn’t wrong, even if it was hypocritical. You had been hunched over your desk for what felt like eternity, studying and writing notes for an upcoming exam. Out of instinct you leaned back, stretching over the back of your chair. “Touché. This exam has you bent out of shape huh?” Jennifer asked. She was laying on her bed, lazily hanging her head off of the side. Her eyes were glued to her phone, her fingers typing away. “That's a severe understatement. You try taking biochemistry. Everything is blending together the longer I look at it,” You sighed. You rubbed your temple, letting out an exhausted breath. “Yeah, I think I'm good. I’ll still with my art major,” The ginger replied. Glancing at her you could see the noticeable eye bags hanging under her eyes. You see Jennifer had an astounding drug problem, one you had grown tolerant of. Despite not partaking in substances yourself, you were well educated in the world of pharmaceuticals. Jennifer took advantage of your knowledge, in exchange for keeping that aspect of her life out of your dorm.

Your shared bathroom was up for grabs naturally, but your main bedroom was not. You thought of Jennifer to just be a woke party girl, who spent her spare time either partying or attending whatever cause she was obsessed with for the week. This week it happened to be veganism. You suspected this charade wouldn’t last long, considering any protein Jennifer consumed seemed to evaporate due to her constant drug usage. She’d feel like shit and get bacon next week at breakfast, you were sure. “Are you going to Mark’s Halloween party? It’s all anyone can talk about right now,” Jennifer asked. You propped your head up on your hand, giving her a sarcastic smile. “Cmon Jen, you know I don’t party. Besides my big exams are the day after,” You reminded her. Not that she should’ve needed reminding, considering it’s all you could think about. It may have only been the beginning of October, but your focus was consumed by your studies.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, rolling over on her stomach. “You know a part of the college experience is socializing right? Your books aren’t going to do you any favors when it comes to meeting hot guys,” She said teasingly, sticking out her tongue. You noticed she had changed her tongue piercing, a neon green ball sitting on her unbrushed tongue. “Hot guys can come after I become a doctor. Half of the guys here are gonna drop out anyways,” You replied. Jennifer snickered, her gaze returning to her phone. “Thats not what you think about Ethan Kibber though,” She teased. You felt heat rush to your cheeks at the sound of his name.

Ethan Kibber. Tall, mean, incredibly handsome. He had beautiful dreadlocks that went down to his shoulders, his chocolate orbs always captivating you every time you saw him. And his voice? It was deep and raspy enough to make you swoon. He was a psychology major, determined to thrive as a psychologist. His admission to Harvard had been publicized, his sister having been a victim to suicide. Ever since then he had been determined to help others mental health. A trait you absolutely adored. He also played football, typical jock popularity following along with it. But you admired his ability to never let that change him. Sure, your only interactions had been nods or brief greetings in the hallway. You were sure it was only because Jennifer walked beside you, but you thought the effort to acknowledge you was sweet.

Playfully you threw a pencil at her, causing her to giggle. “Don't tell me you’re going to try to bribe me by guaranteeing his attendance,” You groaned. Jennifer sat up fully, sliding off of her bed. “Not necessarily but it would be soooo good for you to get out more. You’re always cooped up in here all the time,” She replied. You watched her go over to the bathroom, doing what she did best. You tried not to stare as you heard a drawer open and shut. Her special little ‘stash’. “Hey, what'll get me through my quiz today? I have a bunch of uppers,” She asked. You cringed at the thought of her voice echoing into another dorm. “What time is your quiz?” You asked. You refrained from looking over your shoulder, no matter how much your curiosity lured you to. “In an hour,” Jennifer responded. Your eyes widened, your gaze glued to your desk. “Jesus, Jen. Take an adderall and crush it up and snort it,” You sighed. You didn’t enjoy assisting Jennifer’s drug problem, but you also despised the idea of having to help her detox. Not that she ever truly would.

“Thanks! You’re the best. Now back to what I was saying,” She replied. You could hear the rattling of pills in a bottle, before the sound of them crushing occurred. “I know you’re not a party go-er but why not give it a try? You’re basically a scientist right? Why not trial and error another party?” She asked. Another party. You felt slightly embarrassed at the memory, glancing down at your bandages. You hadn’t told anyone about Jack or what had happened. You pretended you went home with a guy you didn’t remember, earning a big congratulations from your precious roommate. Little did she or anyone else know you were a virgin, dreaming of the day Ethan Kibber would sweep you off your feet. So you played along with the story, claiming you had fallen a bunch at the party. You regretted every second that you attended, cringing at how sloppy of a drunk you turned out to be. Turns out having an unrestricted supply of alcohol is troublesome for even the best students.

“I want to be a doctor in medicine, not science. Although I appreciate the notion, I think i’m good,” You say. You cringed at the sound of her loudly snorting, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. “Give it some thought. Why not come out with me this weekend? Spend the week being a bookworm but loosen up on the weekend with me,” Jennifer suggested. She walked out of the bathroom, grabbing a hoodie. Her high waisted early 2000’s pink shorts were not suitable for the weather at all. Jennifer never feared the weather, no matter how freezing cold it was. Instead she would double layer her tank tops, making sure they were cropped enough to show off her playboy belly ring. She shoved on a hoodie that you presumed she ‘borrowed’ from her last fling. That was the only way she ever obtained winter wear. “Yeah yeah i’ll think about it. Hurry up and go before you’re late,” You say, finally rising from your chair. You handed her whatever pair of uggs she was obsessed with for the time being, wishing her good luck before practically shoving her out of the door.

You ran your fingers through your hair, stressed out beyond belief. How were you going to manage parenting your roommate while balancing studying for possibly your most important exam yet? You trudged over to the bathroom, satisfied to see that the counters were clean. You looked at yourself in the mirror, noticing how exhausted you appeared. Your hair had grown out longer than you preferred, your face more worn out looking than usual. You leaned over to the sink, flipping on the cold water. You needed to focus. You splashed your face with cold water, rubbing your eyes as you did so. Colorful dots danced in your vision as it settled, your hand struggling to find the towel. You managed to find it, wiping your face before tossing it aside.

It was then your heart jumped out of your chest, a tall ominous figure standing beside your desk. You jumped in surprise, nearly tripping over a pair of Jennifer’s discarded sneakers. Swallowing, you took deep breaths, realizing Jack was standing before you. In his visible hand was your heels, coated with mud from your journey into the woods. “Holy shit, what the hell are you doing here?” You hissed. While you were slightly fearful of Jack’s presence, the demon didn’t interpret your words to mean that at all. He held up your heels, setting them down on the floor. “I climbed through your window. You should really lock that,” Jack told you. He thought he was being helpfully informative, all the while your emotions were going haywire. “I brought you back your shoes, you accidentally left them at my cabin,” He explained. Your brain fully seemed to register the situation, your head instinctively nodding. Jack wasn’t intending to be creepy or unsettling, he was just trying to be nice.

“Thank you. You scared the shit out of me. At least give me some warning next time,” You say awkwardly, rocking back and forth on your heels. There was a certain tension, where neither of you seemed to know what to do with the other. Jack, an oversized demon with the communication skills of a walnut, just wanted to get to know you. Maybe it was the savior complex he was beginning to form, but something about you was intriguing. A connection. An odd connection that kept him wanting to come back. You, an overworked stressed out med student, were extremely unsure how to handle Jack’s attention. You had never acquired such attention from a male. Nor had you ever received such genuine kindness. It made you suspicious of his intentions, as if his rough exterior appearance didn’t do that enough. Jack inhaled, his eyebrows raising. His action confused you, your eyes widening in surprise as he pushed past you into the bathroom.

You stared dumb founded as he yanked open one of the bathroom drawers, revealing Jennifer’s infamous drawer of treasure. Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “I thought you were a med student. Why the hell do you have percocet and xanax in your bathroom? Do you know how bad this is for you?” Jack asked, his tone laced with how offended he was. He was thankful for his acute sense of smell, the scent of crushed adderall catching his attention. You didn’t seem like you did substances, your face twisting in disgust. “They're not mine you flimsy snoop! They’re my roommates. How the hell did you know they were there?” You fired back. Jack went to quip a response, when his ears twitched. The scent of your roommate was coming closer, her heart racing as fast as Jack would expect from a college student snorting adderall. “Your roommate is coming,” Jack whispered. You barely managed to choke out a sound of confusion, his large hand grabbing your arm and dragging you into the bathroom. His touch was absurdly hot, his skin so warm it felt like it could burn you. You gasped in surprise as Jack pressed you back against the bathroom door, flicking the tiny lock on the door handle.

There was no time for confusion, the sound of your dorms door flying open. “Roomie? Where are you?” Jennifer asked. Jack flinched at the sound of her voice, the hoarseness making him freeze. He hadn’t accounted for being seen by anyone else. “In the bathroom, w-what’s up?” You sputtered. Jack didn’t need to relay the fear he felt, his tenseness telling you everything you needed to know. “Theyre sending the drug dogs around to our floor, I need to flush all of my shit,” Jennifer squealed, desperately shaking the doorknob. Under his mask Jack was terrified, seemingly frozen in fear. The Operator would have his head on a silver platter for exposing their kind. “I-I got it. Trust me i’ll take care of it,” You replied. Your eyes flickered back and forth at Jacks mask, searching for any emotion. The endless void of darkness stared back at you, the unsettling tar like substance dripping down the royal blue mask. Jack could then hear the sound of conversation a few doors down, a drunk pair of roommates arguing about a broken bottle. It wasn’t long before the smell of metallic blood flooded his nostrils, one of the roommates evidently cutting themselves on the glass. An odd sound escaped Jack’s throat, similar to a hum. You flinched at the sound, before pushing past Jack.

“You’ll take care of it? Let me help you it’s my stuff,” Jennifer pleaded, desperation lacing her words. Through Jack’s hungry haze, he realized just how worried your roommate was about you seeing her stash. Jack wasn’t an expert of human interaction by any means, but he gained the sense that you had no idea just how many kinds of drugs she had stored away in that drawer. Jack tried to push past you, not wanting to ruin your friendship. He grabbed random bottles, unscrewing the lids and tossing them in the toilet. “Is there someone else in there?” Jennifer asked. Jack watched your cheeks flush pink, your mouth running dry. “W-What? N-no!” You sputtered, becoming rapidly embarrassed. Your embarrassment was distraction enough, Jack managing to grab a majority of the unlabeled bottles. Your eyes flickered over to the drawer, your clammy hand grabbing a small baggie of marijuana. Jacks eye sockets widened as you shoved it down your shirt. “I can hear two sets of footsteps in there. Is this the guy?!” She squeaked, her mood jumping to excitement. Now Jack was the one flustered, freezing in place.

You grabbed the pill bottle from his hand, finishing dumping them out. Jack had misread you. You did tell her. How much did she know? “What? Fuck, uh, yeah it is,” You replied, stumbling over each word. You stood on your tippy toes, brushing past Jack’s hood. Your breath was hot against his skin, the demons own heart beginning to feel as though it was racing. “She thinks I lost my virginity in the woods, just follow my lead,” You whispered. Jack raised an eyebrow, relieved at the notion you had in fact kept his secret. “OH MY GOD! Can I meet him?” Jennifer squealed, her voice high and pitchy. Jack cringed at the sound, wondering if a human girl's whines could make his ears bleed. ”Uh no you cannot, we’re gonna leave now,” You rambled. In an unsure manner you grabbed his hand, the demon grabbing onto the wall. Your doe eyes met his, something calming about the color staring back at him. “Trust me,” You whispered. You unlocked the door, shoving it open. Jack avoided looking at Jennifer, keeping his head down. He could hear the cops beginning to search your neighboring dorm mates. “They’re coming,” Jack mumbled, just low enough so you could hear him. You squeezed his hand, pushing past a gushing Jennifer.

“This is him? Why’s he wearing a mask?” She questioned. You guided Jack over to the window, pushing the blinds aside and shoving it open. “I’m uh, into mask play,” You said slowly, as if you were unsure of the own words coming out of your mouth. Jack was halfway out of the window, freezing once he heard your flustered words. “Like ghostface? Seriously? You’ve only had sex once and you’re jumping into mask play?” Jennifer gasped, flabbergasted at the mere thought you were presenting her. Your cheeks were bright red, nervously shoving on a random pair of sneakers. “Yup I am. Don’t judge me. I don’t judge you. Gonna go now, bye!” You rambled, practically shoving Jack out of the window. He jumped down first effortlessly, realizing your dorm was on the third floor. You nervously peered out of the window, looking down at Jack. The demon knew time was thin, outstretching his arms and waiting for you to jump. The overwhelming knock at the door gave you enough courage, your eyes screwing shut as you threw yourself out of the window.

[jellxzy]

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞! (𝐆𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠... 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠)

|| 𝐂𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

|| 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬!: 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!

|| 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞! 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝!

|| 𝐀/𝐧: 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫!! 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲! 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐓 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨... 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟-𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! 𝐋/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 “𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞“ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 “𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞“

You stood in-front of the mirror with shaky hands as you fixed your over-sized gray blazer. You fiddled with the hem of the black mini skirt you wore, soon tying up the laces of black worn-out convers you wore.

Sure, it wasn’t your first time on a date with a woman, but it's your first time asking out a woman. Usually it had been them, with you giving them subtle hints. But after two months of waiting patiently, you did the first move.

And that's how you got here, trying to somewhat fix the poorly tied tie, and your wrinkled white button up. You tried to dress fancy, given that you want this to end up well.

Though you didn't have the right clothes for it, so you stole some from your good ole' brother. The trousers couldn't fit on you so, you went for the black skirt instead.

In other words, you tried your very best. You picked up the bouquet of flowers that sat on your table, picking out your fanciest-looking purse and left your apartment.

The reason you went all out on your outfit was, that was because you had nothing else to impress her with. Your apartment was shit, one kick away from crumbling. You had no car, not even a drivers license. You had nothing, nothing at all.

You just had your crazy-good fashion sense and a smart mind. You fiddled with your glasses, fixing them and your hair. You rang the doorbell to her house, breathing deep but steady breaths before hiding the bouquet behind your back.

You stood there patiently waiting for her to open the gate, or do anything. Nervously mumbling words of praises under your breath. "You can do this.", "you look beautiful and she will love you.".

Then she opened the door, you instantly look up from your feet. Even if she wore something casual—wait, she's wearing something casual.

First wrong of the date: "hey, beautiful." You tried to flirt with her, keyword: tried. But you still desperately failed so bad. And with a wide blush coming up on your cheeks looked down on your feet again. "Sorry." You mumble giving her the hidden bouquet of flowers from behind your back.

"This is really pretty." She smiled and took the flowers on your hands and smelled them. "You look really pretty." She looked up from the flowers and her eyes met yours. "T-thank you, you look beautiful, Hyun-ju." You grin before grabbing her hand in yours.

"Sorry, i thought we were going for something casual." She said looking down at her casual outfit. "No, it's alright. I should've asked you beforehand. You still look really beautiful."

The walk to the restaurant was near but there was still a distance. "Sorry, i don't have a car. And plus the restaurant's parking is shitty." You tell her with a small smile, which she just let smiles at.

"It's fine. This is actually the best date ever." She chuckles, brushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Don't worry too much about this date, i want you to enjoy." She said as she subtly intertwines her fingers with hers.

Second wrong of the date: "Uhm, hi. Reservation for L/n, please." You smile. "Oh, uhm. I'm sorry, i can't find your name in here." She scrolls through the book. "Uhm, what?" You nervously chuckle, though you just send an already worried Hyun-ju a smile.

"Can i talk to F/n, please?" You say with an irritated smile as your friend walks over to you. "So...?" She trails off. "What the hell!" You whisper shout at her as she pulls you behind a car. "Look, i'm sorry. I didn't have time to put you on the reservation list. I'm really busy, and we're filled with people."

"What am i gonna do now?" You huff in annoyance as you rub your temples. "Uhm, there's this other really nice restaurant. It's just a couple blocks from here." Your friend suggests. "Fine, but i'll never let you live down this moment ever again."

And with that you walk away. You force a smile as you walk on over to her, but it seems she already knows it. "So, we search for other restaurants?" She smiles as she intertwines her fingers with yours once again.

"Are you sure? You can go back home, i'll just reschedule this date." You look up at her with sad eyes. "No, i want this date to continue." She smiled looking at your eyes, before hesitantly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Fireworks. You felt fireworks erupting inside of you as she pressed her soft lips on your forehead. "Sorry, am i moving too fast?" She asks with worried eyes, but you shake your head with a wide smile and a blush on your cheeks. "No."

Third wrong of the date: as the both of you talk and walk towards the restaurant, people who walks by, stare at the both of you with disgust planted on their face. The way they would walk slowly just to whisper something, then walk away like nothing happened.

It made you sick to your stomach. You would never except people to be like this. You hated that. You hated how they would stare at the both of you with such disgust, as if they're perfect people.

Your hands ball up into a fist as you tried your best not to glare at them. You snap out of your thoughts as Hyun-ju stopped walking. You looked at her with confusion. "I'm sorry." She apologized turning to look at you. "I'm sorry, you're getting all these looks because of me."

"It's okay. I-i'm used to it." You grab her cold hands and try to warm it with yours. "I don't mind." You smile. "Do you want me to cook for you instead?" You offer, brushing your thumb over her knuckles. "I promise, i make decent food."

"I would love that." She smiles. "Your apartment closer, right? Let's go there instead." She says, you and Hyun-ju walk to your apartment, talking and laughing once again. This time with no one to interrupt the two of you.

Since it was night, the streets near your apartment are usually quiet. So all the sounds that you could only hear was the sounds of her giggles and laugh at your stupid jokes.

Stupid jokes that at least made her laugh.

Once the both of you reach your apartment, you turn on the dim lights, preparing dinner whilst she sat on the very uncomfortable couch. "Sorry, i'm not the richest." You spoke up from the kitchen. "Don't worry. I'm touring myself instead."

She looked at the portraits and family pictures you had set up on the shelf, it was clear that you loved your family. The shelves were filled with books, occupying most of the shelves. You loved to read. She kept that in mind.

And, you also loved to cook. She guessed that from the row of cook books you had. "You're not gonna find any gold in there, that's for sure." And she chuckled at that as you set up your dinner and hers.

After eating dinner, the both of you decided to sit on the couch and watch tv instead. After a few minutes, despite your desperate fighting, sleep won over you. Your head slowly leaning towards her shoulder, she didn't mind. In fact, she liked it.

She admired you whilst you slept, the moon light seeping through the windows as you slept, lighting up your face perfectly. "Best date ever." She whispered under her breath before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"Best date ever." You whisper back, waking up from her kiss. "So, let's do this again?" You asked with eyes full of hope. "I would love that. Now go to sleep."

The next morning, you woke up with a goddess laying next to you, admiring your features. And it was truly the best date ever despite all the things that happened.

[oli-ribbun-ver]

TADC Ep 4 Ramble! (?)

OKAY!! ive been wanting to yap about this for a while so!!

FIRST!! what finally got me to make this post!

the difference between how jax and ragatha worded it when they said something about gangle being happy!!

as you can see here, jax says "I like you better when you're sad."

but why am i thinking about this so much?

jax doesn't really say "i hate when youre happy," or anything of that sort! he just says "i like you better when you're sad." is there really that much of a difference? well, yes!

there's actually a BIG difference!

"I hate when you're happy," would mean that Jax ONLY likes Gangle when she's sad and that he makes her sad BECAUSE she's happy, which isn't the case!

We KNOW that Jax doesn't do it because he dislikes when she's happy (although that MIGHT be the case, he definitely doesnt overall HATE when she's happy) because he says in Ep 1;

"I'm fine with doing whatever, as long as I get to see funny things happen to people."

AND at the beginning of Ep 3, he has absolutely no issue with her being happy in any way. You can even visually see the reason he throws her mask is because he thinks it's funny.

(he literally dgaf)

Hell, you can tell he wasn't even considering throwing her mask until Gangle mentioned the doors and he was like "oh stars yknow what would be funny..."

oh stars wait i didnt know there was a pic limit hokd on

okay had to delete some SORYR wait does fhis mean this has to be a seperate part thing??? how do i even do fhat... oh dear... THATS OKAY ILL FIGURE IT OUT!! anyways

I'm sure you get my point! Yes, in Ep 2, he seems a bit happier with her being sad, he LITERALLY SAYS "Aren't you supposed to be submissive and agreeable?", but also remember he SPECIFICALLY says

"I like you better when you're sad." not that he ONLY likes her when she's sad, which is kinda my point with this.

Now, what makes it so different to Ragatha's comment about her being happy?

"You're kind of annoying when you have your happy mask."

Yeah. Kind of a big difference.

She just straight up says she thinks Gangle is annoying when she has her happy mask.

It can be argued that it's because Ragatha was hit with the good ol' stupid sauce, but if you haven't noticed, it's not that it made her stupid(although it sorta did), it just made her brutally honest with how she felt.

Gangle already knows that Ragatha is a people pleaser. Kind of everyone knows that. But regardless, Gangle considers Ragatha a friend. Sure, she could've expected it from Jax, but from RAGATHA?

Yeah. I wouldn't expect it either.

Because again, unlike Jax, Ragatha says she finds Gangle annoying when she's happy. Jax does not. And we know Jax is typically at least somewhat honest about how he feels. He literally has no reason to lie to Gangle about that, though. Like literally no reason.

"I like you better when you're sad" is a BIG difference than "You're kind of annoying when you have your happy mask."

Before anyone mentions it, although yes Ragatha DOES say happy MASK, Gangle doesn't exactly show she's sad when she has her happy mask on. She seems happier than when she doesn't have it, but we can pretty confidently assume that's not the case. I'll get into her mask later, though.

Regardless, what we know so far is that nobody really knows her happy mask doesn't actually make her happy except (now) Pomni and MAYBE Zooble.

Although I sorta doubt the Zooble thing because Ep 4 allowed us to learn that Gangle has a bigger mood drop the longer she's 'happy' for, since happiness isn't what she truly feels most of the time.

OKAY next post so i can put more images.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 36 Have you left a seat for me?

Final chapter of Moonlight

A/N- The final chapter! but there will be an epilogue!!

Warning- some angst, FLUFF!!!! Talks of death and violence, SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- Past 578

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

And there he is ever so gracefully under the moonlight, like a wild wolf admiring the beautiful moon. Only Cregan is very quietly watching over your son as he continues to talk to Alys, making sure that she doesn’t…cast a spell on him you assume? He is very wary of her because of what she can do.

“How is it going?” You interrupt his silence even though he already heard you approaching him since you were a few paces back.

“I do not know,” he shares as he peers over his shoulder and watches you break the barrier of space that was between you by wrapping your arms around his waist, and then pressing a kiss on his shoulder blade before resting your chin on his shoulder.

“He left dinner a while ago to come talk to her again,” he adds as he turns his head away to continue watching the pair distancing themselves from the Weirwood tree—“At least he hasn’t turned into a frog.”

You roll your eyes and gently knee the back of his leg, causing him to laugh breathlessly as he cups your hands wrapped around him before drifting his gaze to the corner of his eyes to be able to look at you.

“We can ask in the morning,” you try to assure him. “Just trust her okay? Has Alys given you a reason to distrust her? Alys likes the kids. All of them. If she didn’t she wouldn’t have agreed to help.”

Cregan hums in comprehension and then turns around to be able to look at you, letting you see his conflicted eyes brewing under the moonlight. “I tried talking to Jacaerys, but he brushed me off. Again.”

You watch the desperation in his eyes and lift your hand to stroke his jaw. “My love, he’s drinking right now and carried away with his brothers. Try again when he’s sober. Alright?”

Cregan nods his head and then lifts his hand to caress your arms. “I have been dropping my woes on you, how was your funeral?”

The softness taking ahold of your eyes fades and that sorrow and ache once again contorts your face. Cregan notices right away and interjects rapidly. “I am sorry I could not be at your side. I wanted to…”

“But Aemond would not have liked it,” you finish his sentence and move away from him to start leading him away from the Godswood. “So it’s okay. I already told you it was. Besides, the girls were at my side in your place.”

“And because they wanted to be there too,” he adds, causing you to respond with a small smile that tells him that you know that too.

“And I'm grateful for it…” You trail off and your smile fades whilst agony quickly takes over the sorrow as you think back to what Aerion said and did earlier.

“Do you think…I did something wrong to make Aerion and Daenys forsake their father?” You have to ask out of helplessness because what Aerion said has been gnawing at your mind all night and wounding your heart for Aemond— “You know I tried to keep our people from speaking ill of him when they lived in Winterfell, and I never talked bad about him to them either, but they still don’t acknowledge him. That’s why Daenys didn’t bother showing up for his funeral.”

Cregan glances at you and sees your distress and guilt clearly spewing out, making this conversation easier to navigate. “They know what you told them. They remember your efforts of painting him in a good light so they can look at him fondly, but, my darling, they are adults now and you cannot keep the world silent.”

Your frown deepens and you whisper. “I know.”

He swallows back nervously and continues to be brutal but honest. “They were going to learn about their father's doings and form their own opinion about him one way or another. Besides, they…didn’t know him as you did, so the good shared by one person cannot outweigh the bad written in history and shared by thousands.”

You draw in a shaky breath and nod, leaving a silence to spread between you and linger as you make your way to your dragon. Cregan doesn’t know that but he follows you anyhow with the silence not bothering him.

“One time,” you break the silence and keep the melancholy emotions running high. “A Red Priestess told me that three of my children would be followed by sin,” you pause and Cregan looks at you bewildered, not because he finds what you’re saying absurd, but because he can’t believe you seem to take words from the priestess so seriously.

“I have tried to break my head trying to figure out what she meant for so long…”

Cregan sighs out of annoyance but he doesn’t fail to amuse you. “What does it mean?” He probes.

You glance at the starry sky and share what you assume. “Daenerys is a bastard. We cannot deny that. We can't spin it any other way. She was created while I was married to Aemond,” you say with no actual guilt or distress because you don’t let that fact bother you anymore—“And Daenys and Aerion will always be overshadowed by the actions of their father and me. Kinslayers. Every time someone figures out who their parents are, that's the first thing that will come to mind. That sin.” Your voice breaks but tears don’t spill. You continue to look distressed.

“That should not bother you. They’re words of a witch. I have told you this many times.”

“But it does,” you retort and drop your eyes on him. “Because it’s what makes me a bad mother.”

Cregan lifts his eyebrow and leans his face towards you to whisper. “If you’re a bad parent then I am one too. I cannot talk to my sons and in turn, they don’t trust me enough to bear their sorrows on me. They think I hate them because I cannot simply talk to them. I am too cold. I am their Lord rather than their father, so don’t bear that burden alone.”

You hold his gaze and your eyes soften with awe as you let out a soft and relieved scoff. In turn, Cregan strokes your chin and then drags his hand up to caress your cheek, making you lean into his touch.

“I love you,” you remind him, making a warmth creep onto his cheeks and a timid smile tug on his lips.

“I love you too,” he doesn’t hesitate to redirect.

You hold his grey eyes for a second longer before you look ahead and pick up your speed as you walk past the castle gates and see Astraea curled up outside the wall since she’s too big to fit within the castle walls and too protective to stray far to find a nice open space to rest.

“<Look at you!>” You exclaim to your beloved dragon in High Valyrian and skip before you jog to her. “<Too worried to go far?>” You ask. “<Good girl,>” You coo as you reach Astraea and throw your arms around her snout.

This time Astraea fills her silence by letting out an affectionate growl. You proceed to caress her and press your forehead against her, choosing to leave it there for a moment, but then getting interrupted by the sound of a word that sends you in alert. “Mother.”

Your eyes snap open and you move away from Astraea without letting her go to follow the sound and that’s when you catch Jacaerys sitting against Astraea with a goblet in his hand that he lifts in the air for you, and Cregan walking up behind you.

“Father.”

You share a quick glance with Astraea and then let your hands slip to slowly approach Jacaerys. “I’m surprised you’re out here, Jace.”

He scoffs and takes a long drink of wine before he gives you his response. “Why? You should know I’m going to enjoy my last bits of freedom before I am forced to wither away at the Wall.”

You blink repeatedly out of nervousness and then you snap at him. “Jacaerys. We already talked. Don’t—”

“All for you father,” he cuts you off and pushes the cup toward Cregan slowly making his way to you and Jacaerys.

“Jacaerys.”

“It's alright,” Cregan assures you. “He may speak his mind.”

Jacaerys rolls his eyes away as he turns his head away. Cregan reaches where you are and pats your arm before walking past you to be closer to Jacaerys.

“Why are you mad at me, Jace?” Cregan asks, making your stomach knot with concern. Especially as Jacaerys keeps quiet for a while.

Astraea senses this and turns her head to gently tap your side with her snout so you can relax. And you do take a breath but you still feel worried. More so as Jacaerys finally meets his father's eyes.

“Because of you and this need to send me away to the Wall,” he finally snaps with his eyebrows quickly furrowing. “I may not be next in line to be Lord like Rickon or Maekor. I may not have dragon dreams like Torrhen, or be married to a lady with a powerful family, but have you ever thought about what I wanted and not what you wanted? Have you thought about the fact that wasting away with a bunch of old men is not what I consider honorable? It’s always, “It's an honor”, or “It’s your duty”, that I started to be someone that I wasn’t to believe it, but I’m tired. I do not want to be a Brother of the Night's watch. That’s not me.”

Cregan drops his head and places his arms on his hips, whilst Jacaerys glances over at you with a flicker of surprise over the fact that he just said all that to his father. And as Cregan remains quiet Jacaerys speechlessly asks for reassurance so you offer him a small nod and a gentle smile, letting him draw in a deep breath and return his attention to his father.

“Then what do you want, Jacaerys?” Cregan interjects as he lifts his eyes off the ground to look at Jacaerys without anger. It would be heard in his voice if he was angry.

“I,” said man pauses but not because he’s caught off guard or clueless. He just exhales and then continues. “I cannot have a dragon like mother, but maybe I want to sail and…see the world like Yi-Ti, or some other distant land. This world is big. I don't want to just waste away in some corner imagining what it might look like when I have the ability to actually know it.”

A proud smile spreads on your face as you hear your son's dream. One similar to the one you had once upon a time.

“It was told to me that a Stark always had to serve the Wall. With all your brothers having a place in this world, I placed that duty on you without taking your opinion under consideration. And maybe if your mother had been another woman I would have forced you, but…” Cregan pauses and looks back at you with an admiring smile. “I have heard your words before. I know that girl would want nothing more than to let you go and do what she couldn’t,” he says, making your smile tremble—“So go if you want Jace,” he directs back at his son. “Or stay. Follow your heart. Be free and keep dreaming in ways that girl couldn’t.”

Jacaerys eyes fall and you see his mind racing so you approach Cregan and hook your arm around his. He turns his head and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

“Mother…is it true?” Jacaerys questions since your past desires are something you haven’t shared with your kids. It’s been forgotten for a long time until now.

“Once. I always wanted more, but your father helped me see that I already had so much in what I was given. I just had to learn to see it and enjoy it. Besides…my place was always here. I learned that long ago, but your place…is wherever you want it to be because you don’t have the burdens we did…so be free Jace.”

Said man nods in comprehension and his breath shudders as he lowers his head again. Cregan takes this time to approach him and take a seat beside him without uttering a word. He just sits with his son, causing the boy to slowly look at his father with an appreciative smile.

Cregan slowly meets his gaze and offers a sweet smile in return, making your heart swoon as you watch the silent interaction from where you stand.

——

*A FEW DAYS LATER*

“<Trust me we’re getting out of here now,>” you assure Astraea since she’s not a fan of the Riverlands. “<But I do have to tell you that when we get to King’s Landing you’ll have to fly to Dragonstone. Aegon…” you breathe out as you stroke her face. “Is not a fan of you, so stay at Dragonstone until it’s time to leave okay?>”

Astraea, like always doesn’t respond, you know she listens but she can’t respond.

“Are you flying Astraea to Kings Landing?” You hear a voice travel into your ears, making your hands fall off Astraea to turn and face Torrhen joining you and your dragon in the field past the castle walls.

“Not yet. I don’t want to leave you all behind for two weeks,” you let him know and watch Astraea as she pushes herself up and crawls closer to Torrhen to nudge him gently.

“About that,” Torrhen brings up softly as he lays his eyes on Astraea. “I am going to stay with Alys. Just until you make your way back this way. After that, I am leaving back home with you.”

You blink in surprise and then your eyebrows knot together. “Are you…sure? You don’t want to go see your sister? Or your uncles?”

Torrhen's grey eyes slowly find you and he sighs before he explains his reasoning. “I would like to, but I have been learning so much from Alys, and she still has a lot to teach me. I don’t want to waste this opportunity, not while my mind is still rampant. I still cannot make sense of what I see, but…the weight of them is not as heavy anymore and it’s thanks to her.”

Your confusion and concern falls and the corner of your lips show your amusement as it rises. “And you didn’t want to talk to her,” you remark teasingly, making him laugh under his breath.

“Maybe after this, I can be unburdened by my dreams and visions and be carefree like her,” he adds, causing you to fall serious and close the space between you to wrap your hand around his arm and gently caress him.

“If that's what you believe then stay,” you assure him since even if he wasn’t asking, he was still seeking your opinion without demanding it. “And then come home,” you press, but quickly break into a smile to let him know you’re not all that serious about demanding him home.

“Or don’t. If that’s what you want. I will be sad, but it is normal.”

Torrhen shows his pity, but he quickly consoles you. “My place is still at home. Do not worry.”

You scoff and nod lightly in comprehension before you let go of his arm and offer him a sweet smile. “Stay then, and after…talk to your father? Him and Jacaerys talked, so maybe you can try talking with him now.”

Torrhen sees the desperation and the plea in your eyes so even if he’s hesitant he tries to please you. “I will try. I swear.”

You let out a breath of relief and when he notices the change on your face he flashes you a faint smile before he licks his lips and tries to share his concern. “Will you be okay when you return to King's Landing?”

You have returned to King’s Landing many times already, so going shouldn’t bring you so much conflict, but you still grow stiff and nervously avert your gaze. “I always am,” you respond in a stiff voice and then drift your eyes over to him to offer him a faint smile to go with your response.

“Now,” you avoid going deeper into that conversation since he knows more than anyone you're depressing history with King’s Landing. “See us off?”

Torrhen doesn’t deny your request, he happily lets you hook your arm around him to return to the castle side by side.

The moments that follow aren’t eventful, you stick to your schedule and depart from Harrenhal to head to King’s Landing whilst also leaving Torrhen behind with Alys with no protests from anyone. Then again what could they say? Even if this would be his first time being alone away from home, he’s a man grown trying to make sense of his abilities. It’s best to leave him be so he can get his help.

Besides, the further you get away from Harrenhal and your youngest child, the less you worry about him and the more that you feel distressed by returning to King's Landing, the land where you once lived your life for fifteen years.

Happy memories were made there. Good memories you cherish, but the grief, agony, torment, and the violence that you lived through there is what makes itself present every time you think about King’s Landing and every single time you've returned because it’s a constant reminder of what you lost. Just like Dragonstone. Albeit you can actually step foot in King’s Landing, you cannot and have not returned to Dragonstone—Even if it’s been twenty-five years since your mother died.

Time was supposed to heal you. Turn your wounds into scars, and then distant and faded memories, alas, the moment you arrive to the great capital and lay your eyes on the amazing Red Keep, you curse everyone who said such a stupid thing because twenty-five years since your mother's death, twenty-six years since Aemond’s death, and twenty-seven years since the war started has not passed in your heart or your mind. The memories and the anguish are not vivid anymore, but the scar hurts, and the ache is a reminder of what you no longer have.

At least there is happiness and light in the family you do have living here though. They keep the storm at bay and break a smile on your face.

“Grandmother!” The sweet little sing-song voice of Naerys rings as she breaks out of formation and makes her way to you.

You beam right away as you see your young granddaughter running to you and meet her halfway to quickly sweep her off her feet and hold her against you. “Hello, my little songbird,” you coo as you hug her tightly. “How are you feeling, hm?” You ask right away.

“Oh grandmother I have missed you,” she lets you know before she pulls back to face you with her sweet blue eyes. “I am better.”

You grin brighter. “I’m glad to hear it. And for that, your grandfather and I have brought you a present.”

The little girl's eyes brighten as she grows giddy. “What is it? Where is it?” She asks and looks past your shoulder.

“With your grandfather. You’ll have to wait for him to get here,” you tell her, making her even more eager to know. “Now let’s put you down—”

“Hey! Where is Astraea going?!” Another young voice interjects, making you drift your eyes down to see your grandson Aemon running past you to watch Astraea fly away with a pout—“I wanted to ride her,” he complains as he crosses his arms over his chest whilst you put Naerys down and approach him from behind.

“Forgive me little one. I don’t want to distress your uncle Aegon, so she has to leave,” you tell Aemon, Daenys’ oldest child with her husband and your brother Viserys, making Naerys their youngest child and Aemon’s sister.

“Well,” Aemon huffs and turns around to face you. “Then can you promise that I will ride her with you before you leave?” He pleads and bats his eyes, making you touch your chest and melt.

“Of course, I promise, but first,” you add and crouch to be at his level. “Why don’t you show me some love, hm?”

The little boy grins brightly and then throws his arms around you, causing Naerys to join in and throw her little arms around you too.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you all. You’ve grown so much since I last saw you,” you mutter as you embrace them against you.

“I lost a tooth since we saw each other last,” Aemon shares as he peels back to show the gap where his tooth is meant to be. “Because Aegon pushed me during training.”

You stroke his chin and whisper. “Did you get a coin for that tooth?”

Aemon closes his mouth a nods, causing you to flash him one last smile before you let Naerys go and stand to your given height to turn around and face your daughter Daenys.

Once your eyes are on her, much like her daughter, she breaks from formation and makes her way to you as you make your way to her to meet each other halfway with an embrace.

“I am sorry I could not go to Harrenhal,” Daenys chooses to make that the first thing she still tells you without knowing that her brother already told you the real reason why she chose not to go.

Albeit you don’t bring it up. Like with her brother, you let her be angry and have her own emotions toward her father. Instead, you caress her back and assure her. “It’s alright. I understand. I’m just glad Naerys is okay and I could make it here to see you.”

Without needing to see her you know Daenys is smiling timidly and that’s all you need from her to let the ordeal go.

“When do the others get here? Is Alysanne coming?” She asks as you both pull away from each other and hold each other's hands.

“She is. And they should be here by the end of the day.”

Her smile widens at the sound of the news, making you stroke her cheek before you move to greet your brother Viserys, who was thought of as dead for a while, but a few years after peace was officially announced throughout the realm, a family from Lys sailed to Westeros with him aboard to bring him back home. With conditions of course, but alas, that condition abandoned Viserys a year after she had their son Aegon the Fourth.

After that condition left is when Daenys and Viserys married, out of duty, but also because they grew a liking to each other as Daenys was the Queen’s Lady-in-waiting.

“Vis,” you greet sweetly and don’t greet him with an embrace, instead you cup the back of his neck and offer him a sweet smile that he mirrors with a charm added to it.

“Sister. I’m happy to see you and I know our brother Aegon is eager too, but…” he trails off and you finish for him.

“Astraea. Yes, I assumed. How are you?”

He shrugs. “I have no reason to complain. My daughter made it out of her illness and you are here with the rest of our family soon to join…Aerion is coming, yes?”

You giggle and nod. “Of course.”

His smile grows wider and he nods in comprehension. After that, you step to the side and look down at the little boy standing beside him.

“Hello, Aegon.”

Said boy offers you a faint tight-lipped smile, but that’s it. He doesn’t mirror his siblings' excitement, so you move on to greet the Queen, Daenaera Velaryon, one of your cousins, and the second wife to your brother Aegon after Jaehaera sadly passed away not long after she was crowned Queen and before she and Aegon could have children.

Daenaera is sweet and charming. Kind and understanding which is why you were comfortable greeting your grandchildren, daughter, and brother first, because she doesn’t mind it and because to her your title as the Dowager Queen commands more respect, so she lets you be, plus she knows you’ll never leave her out, and you don’t. After you greet her, you then greet her children standing at her side, but then hastily return to her to touch her expecting belly since you treat her like you do your brothers, with affection and warmth.

Once that greeting is over nevertheless, as all the noise of your welcome has calmed down, you make your way to a drawing room in the royal apartments. One that you would spend your time at with your mother and brothers. One where the setting sun would shine through the balcony window and bask your mother ever so perfectly, making her look ethereal and angelic as she listened to you read your books in Valyrian, or sing a song.

You always liked the end of the day in that room because of that detail. You looked forward to it every day because it was always so warm and comforting. She was always so warm and comforting…

When you're there now, all that's gone, leaving only a sad memory. Thus your exhale is heavy and not relaxed, and when a knock raps on the door you expect to see someone who’s been dead a long time, but instead you see your brother Aegon walking in so you quickly get up and curtsy. “Your Grace,” you greet, and right away Aegon puts his hands out and interjects.

“Please, you do not have to do that when we’re alone. You’re the Dowager Queen. I owe you my respects,” he says and then offers you a small bow, making you giggle before you make your way around the couch to reach him.

“Dowager Queen or not you are still my King,” you argue, causing him to lower his head and then shake it.

“Perhaps but I prefer to be your brother first,” he counters and you sigh before taking his hands in yours.

“Alright…sweet brother. I’m glad to see you.”

He lifts his solemn blue eyes off the floor to meet your gaze, causing a shuddering breath to escape through your nose as a memory of your mother flashes in your mind. Aegon doesn’t look like your mother, he doesn’t have her eyes or the same color hair. His hair is also pin straight and he’s impressively tall and lean, but even so, as you look into the eyes of the little brother who was with you when your mother died, you see her in him for a fraction of a second.

“And I you,” he redirects as he gently rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs. “Is your dragon…”

“Gone?” You cut him off and then nod. “She flew to Dragonstone. She’ll stay there until it’s time to leave, so you can rest easy.”

He nods stiffly in comprehension and you proceed to take a long look at his thin face, noticing he looks a bit thinner than usual. “Aegon, my sweet, have you been eating?” You ask and he pulls his hands away and nods quickly as if to brush you off.

“Quite well in fact,” he dismisses you and makes his way over to the couch to take a seat, making you walk back to sit beside him.

“Why do you come here first every time you come to King's Landing?” He cuts the other conversation short. “I always mean to ask, but I always forget.”

You intertwine your fingers together and exhale deeply as if trying to work up the courage to share the reason. As if it was costly to your scarred heart. “Uh…when I was a little girl I used to come here with our brothers and mother…”

Aegon shifts slightly at the sound of the memory but you continue.

“…it was not every evening, just some, but we would spend time here whether it be playing, talking about our day, and or doing some different activity, but,” you pause and your eyes flicker to your hands as the memory becomes more vivid than before. “One of my favorite things to do was read or sing to our mother right here on this couch because when the sun was setting it would peek through the balcony doors and all the windows and kiss her ever so gracefully, making her look…absolutely breathtaking, so I would admire her and hope every time that I would grow up to be as beautiful as her…” you trail off and peel your hands away from each other to gently rub the couch before finding the strength to look at him without feeling like you’ll cry.

However, you notice that Aegon is teary-eyed, so you reach over for his hand and cradle it.

“I wish I could have seen that,” he mutters and averts his gaze. “I wish I had been born earlier so I had more time with her like you and our brothers did.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze, causing his eyes to pull back to you and catch your pitiful smile.

“I try to talk to Viserys about our mother, or our father, but…he doesn’t remember how they look like or actually hold a single memory about our life before, so I’m alone in my grief until you’re here.”

If only he knew how alone you felt in your grief whether it was with him, or without him over the simple fact that he never lived in the earlier years when you still lived with your mother and brothers. But you don’t tell him that to avoid breaking his heart.

“If you ever want to talk you can send me a raven,” you remind him. “I’ll answer as soon as I can or even fly here if need be.”

He giggles softly and you can’t help but smile before you drag yourself closer to him and share a small story about your mother since he loves hearing them. Albeit there was a time when he was a boy that he wanted nothing to do with you because of the fact that you left; he was so livid that you left him all on his lonesome, but when he got older and a bit mature he figured out that you left because you had your duty to your husband and your family, and well…older sisters eventually have to leave their little brothers behind to live their lives. He was never aware of the fact that you couldn’t continue living here, and you would never tell him.

“One time when I was a little girl, as you know, I liked going down to the platform by the sea,” you begin your story, sparking eagerness within him to know more.

“I liked to sneak away from my Septa’s, and our mother never got me in trouble even if she was told to, but,” you giggle. “She got curious as to where I always ran off to one day, so she followed me without my knowledge. Every step I took, she took in secret without making a peep. She was rather sneaky. Eventually, when I reached the platform, she came up behind me as I reached my straw man and announced her presence so abruptly that she frightened me so badly that I fell over the ledge with my straw man falling under me, breaking my fall, but not shielding me from the wave that crashed over me. So I got soaked, and after our mother helped me back to stable ground she laughed…and I laughed with her.”

A smile tugs on Aegon’s lips before he laughs softly, making his shoulders shake and his solemn eyes spark with a flicker of joy.

That reaction makes you laugh with him, giggle in fact as you watch him and admire the way he laughs because it’s so rare to hear. You have to grasp and internalize the scraps you’re given. However in doing so, even though the sun is not seeping through the balcony door and all the drawing rooms windows, sunbeams still find their way inside and cast Aegon in its illuminating hue, making his usually dark blue eyes gleam brightly, and making him appear as beautiful as you mother looked when she was basked by the same sun.

For the first time in twenty-five years since her death, for a fraction of a second, your mother was in the same quarters as you in the body of her son. And then…as fast as that second same, she left and you were orphaned all over again.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

After some time of being in King's Landing, it’s finally time to leave, and yes, you’ll miss your brothers, your daughter, and your grandchildren, but besides the memories that haunt you, this place is not as grandeur as you once believed. Thus you’re eager to leave with Alysanne to the Riverlands until she gives birth—albeit you will miss the sea; it’s so far from Winterfell...

Nevertheless, before you can even attempt to leave, you enter your chambers to grab what you need before you meet up with Daenys and Aerion, but as you come across your bed; you see that there's a rather long and wide gift box sitting on the bed.

You look around in confusion before you approach the gift box and notice a small square folded note attached to the ribbon that has your name neatly written on it.

Cregan comes to mind, but he has not eluded to gifting you something. He usually would, but he hasn’t and neither have any of your children, so, you eagerly grab the note to see who it could be from.

“Dear sister,

I found one of Mother’s gowns so I had it tailored for you so you could cherish and wear it. And that’s not at all, in my search I also found one of her rings and I noticed that you fidget with your rings the same way she did, so I had it customized for you.

From,

Aegon.”

Whether you wanted to or not, tears run out of your eyes without warning and stream down the curve of your cheeks whilst your heart dances with pure bliss. You try to open the gift box, but all you can do is put the note down before you start sobbing, and your heart starts aching out of genuine bliss.

You can hardly breathe for quite a while so you have to sit down and catch your breath first before you wipe the tears off your face and pull the box onto your lap. More tears do quickly well up in your eyes, but you ignore them and pull on the ribbon to loosen it and put it aside before you open the box. Thin paper presides over the gown so you yank it off and when you lay your eyes on the black and crimson gown you break down again, but to avoid staining the gown with tears you cover your face to cry into your hands.

After a few more tears you pull your hands away to wipe them off your face and then wipe your hands on your thighs before grabbing a small velvet box that was placed on top of the gown.

Of course, more tears stream down your face and your shoulders tremble as you take in the simple yet beautiful gold ruby ring that once belonged to your beloved mother.

After she fled the city and after she died you never thought you’d find any of her things. Most of the smallfolk took off with the jewelry and the clothes she had to leave behind, leaving only a few things behind, so you didn’t have much until now. And it’s all thanks to your sweet melancholy brother, Aegon.

You smile at your gifts and gently smooth out the gown. You would wear it right away, but the day is coming to an end so you’ll have to save it for later. As for the ring, well, you wear that now and get surprised when it fits just right.

You proceed to linger on the edge of the bed after that with the things resting on your lap until you feel like it doesn’t look like you’ve been sobbing uncontrollably. After that, you set the gift box down on the bed again and grab what you came here for before meeting up with your children.

As expected they’re already waiting for you where you told them to with quite the impatient look painted on their faces.

“Mother,” Daenys complains as she unfolds her arms. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting here for ages.”

You snicker and roll your eyes as you walk past the pair, catching the way Aerion tries to study your face as evidence that you’ve been crying still remains on your face.

“Mother,” Aerion speaks up as he trails right behind you. “Are you alright?”

You hum in agreement and unlatch the tall windows to push them open and reveal the roofs. The same roofs that Aemond and you would escape to when you were children—“Come,” you urge them and step out of the window to stand on the roofs.

“Mother,” Daenys calls out. “Are you mad? What are you doing?!”

“Just come on,” you brush off her panic and lead them away from the window and around the corner where no windows decorate the walls so you aren’t seen. Aerion and Daenys are hesitant to follow, you almost believe that they won’t follow you, but eventually, you see them peeking around the corner.

“Mother,” Aerion calls out now with worry, but you just pat the empty spots beside you.

The siblings look at each other with concern but Daenys takes the risk and falls by your side, Aerion lingers behind cautiously, so you interject with amusement. “We will not fall, trust me. I have done this hundreds of times.”

“I believe you,” Daenys mutters and raises her head to peek over the ledge.

“We will not stay long,” you assure them, and then turn around to dig into the bag that you brought with you and pull out things they have not seen before.

Aerion notices that you’re pulling things out of your bag so he carefully makes his way over to join you and his sister. “This is completely unsafe,” he mutters. “You are meant to safeguard us, not put us in harm's way.”

You snort and cover the things by pulling back a thin layer of your gown. “I fought in a battle with your sisters in my belly, and have taken you on dragonback when you were babes. I am not someone who takes safety as my priority, besides, you will be fine. Unless you’re reckless. Are you?”

Aerion carefully takes a seat beside you and then shakes his head and deadpans. “No.”

You shrug to brush him off and then move along with the matter at hand. “I brought you here today because when we were in the capital together a few years back, I…never took your feelings toward your father under consideration. I worried about my own grief and my own loss that I disregarded yours and thought lies that I would only recently uncover. So now that the three of us are here I summoned you to a…rather unexpected place, but it’s a place where Aemond and I would come to when we were kids. So it’s special.”

Aerion and Daenys share another quick glance before their eyes fall on your lap as you yank off the layer of your gown to show what you brought.

“This,” you continue to speak before they have the thought of interrupting and pick up a hand-carved wooden siren. “Is a siren your father carved me when he was a boy. He lacked a dragon so he picked up other talents, and whittling was one of them.”

You put the siren down and grab the heart-shaped book that holds songs and ballads in Valyrian. “This,” you move on to the book. “Is a rare book of ballads and songs he scoured the earth for because he knew how much I loved to sing in Valyrian, and well, he really liked it when I sang in our mother tongue.” You giggle and pass the book to Aerion since he’s more musically inclined than Daenys.

“And this,” you move on to the third thing made of glimmering gold and beautiful gems. “Is a circlet inspired by one of my favorite ancestors, Daenys the Dreamer. He,” you pause and draw in a deep breath to calm your racing heart—“he had this done like one Daenys wore in a drawing of her in one of the history books because he knew how much I looked up to her. It was after I had you, Aerion.”

Said man sits in silence for a moment and when he returns the book to your lap he quips, “expecting a girl?”

You smile bashfully. “Desired a girl, yes, but we were still rejoiced when we had you…he really did love you Aerion, and you too Daenys. He never got to meet you, but he loved you. He cared about you both,” you finally share what you came here to say as you put the circlet down to give them your attention.

“If he really did love us like you say,” Aerion cuts in while Daenys remains quiet—“he would have tried harder to make it back to us, but he fought and died. He left and died.”

You nod rapidly. “Yes. Yes, don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I was furious too? I was left widowed with three children. Newborn twins and an infant. I was mad too Aerion, because he died after he promised that it was just us in this world that mattered. Him and me…Me and him, but he left with only traces of him to haunt me.”

“Then perhaps he should have fought harder,” Aerion continues to be hard-headed as he pouts down at the surface beneath his feet.

“I…” you trail on with tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. “I was angry at my father once too. I forsook him because he left too. I carried that hate in my heart because I was betrayed by him and my mother. All I felt pulsing through me was my anger, so I know, I know some of that resentment you hold for your own father, but as someone who went through that, as someone who knew how much Aemond loved and cared for you both, I just want you to change your perspectives. Open your hearts and accept a little piece of him at least.”

“But,” Daenys’ sweet voice finally fills your ears. “He was a monster. You have your scar to prove it.”

“And you have a new part of the city to prove my sins,” you defend him by shedding light on your own wrongdoings. “He did bad things, yes, but I did too. Everyone who fought in that war did bad things, some worse than the others, but it was done. It doesn’t make him any less of your father. It doesn’t take away that he still loved you.”

“But you have your life to make up for it,” Aerion argues, making your eyes drift to him. “And you raised us. You were here and made sure that we did not only think of the bad parts when we thought of you. When I think about Aemond…I see the death, destruction, and pain he left behind.”

“Because,” you pause and drop your head to fiddle with the wooden siren. “That’s what you hear. That’s what they all say about him, but he was much more than that. He,” you laugh softly and with a fond smile. “He would watch you sleep to make sure you were breathing when you slept. He went out to make sure you found your dragon so you didn’t feel ostracized like he did. He was selfish, but that made his love that more passionate.”

“I wish…we had memories together,” Daenys whispers in such a way that can only be heard if you’re sitting next to her, so you barely catch what she said—“Not just words spoken by you and others. That’s why it makes seeing him as a monster easier because I can’t even dream of him. At least Aerion can cling onto that, but me…I only have his name and trinkets that have no meaning to me.”

You look at her with pity and you catch tears crawling out of her eyes, but she’s quick to wipe them away.

“I am sorry, my Sweet,” is all you can offer her besides the wooden siren he had made for you—“keep it. It was made by his own hands. It’s not him, but it’s something made by him.”

Daenys carefully takes the siren and looks at you with worry. “Are you sure?” She asks.

You nod and pat her hand. “Positive.”

With a faint smile, Daenys looks down at the hand-carved siren, assuring you without words that she will try to look at her father under a different light, leaving you to seek Aerion’s response to all this now.

“You can’t ask me to forgive him just like that,” Aerion says and tries to hide his quiver.

“Nor will I ask you to,” you reassure him as you take his hand in yours. “Just change your prescriptive.”

Aerion takes a deep breath and then shudders. “I’ll try.”

A relieved look unfurls on your face and you squeeze his hand. “That’s all I want. Monster to man.”

Aerion meets your gaze and shares a faint nod, causing you to raise your hand to stroke his cheek and look into his striking blue eyes for a second longer before you look away and watch the horizon with contentment just like you would so long ago.

Life has been hard. It is still hard sometimes, but you can admit that you know what peace means now. You’re not falling into any abyss. You know happiness, you can find it in every member of your family. You know love, and it’s true you miss so many people, but their loss is not like being pierced in the heart or getting it torn and shattered, it aches when you remember the good moments, but you’ve preserved through your agony and grief, and that’s your greatest achievement because you can love again. You can smile with your lips and your eyes, and you can enjoy the sun's warm embrace as it seems to shine just for you as you dip your feet in the sand and let the salty sea waves crash over your feet on the morning of the day you have to leave King’s Landing.

Everyone else is barely starting to stir awake because you made it your mission to get up as the sun was rising to find serenity by the sea before you left.

Albeit there is one presence who does join you in your moment of solitude, but they don’t announce themselves. They watch you from afar as the sun completely shines just for you, kissing your skin, and making your silver-white hair glimmer like untouched snowflakes on fields of snow.

They can’t see your face since they’re behind you, but they know you well, they can picture your blissful smile as clear as day as you take in the sun and welcome the cold touch of the water. Perhaps—no, this is the best part about departing from the North and visiting King’s Landing and or visiting Driftmark, they get to see you completely enamored by the sea as if you were a mythical creature parted from their home. It’s always breathtaking to see and be a part of it that they don’t want to move from where they are, but after a while of stillness, you’re the one who looks over your shoulder with your smiling gaze.

“Come. Join me,” you wave Cregan over and his lips show off a fascinated smile before he breaks away from his spot and joins your side unable to part his eyes away from your face.

“What?” You quiere with a giddy smile. “Will you dive with me this time? Just a few miles offshore. I swear it this time.”

Cregan’s smile softens and his eyes darken as his pupils dilate even bigger as you’re all that reflects over his gaze.

“You are and have always been my heart's keeper,” he interjects assertively and catches you off guard. “Everywhere you go my heart follows. Even in death, where the sea meets the edge of tomorrow.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you look as if this is the first time he’s ever made such a passionate confession, when in truth he has never stopped reminding you how much he loves you. Physically and with sweet and romantic words. You're the one who lacks in reminding him sometimes, but your heart has never faltered, it has only grown fonder.

“And you, are the reason I am here,” you now offer him a confession of your own filled with just as much passion. “You are the reason my heart beats and why I draw in air. You are my morning and evening star. My light and the color that forbids me from looking at the world in black in white. Everything about you fascinates me, from the inner markings of your soul to your stormful grey eyes.”

Cregan scoffs softly as he stands in disbelief, causing you to react by cradling his cheeks to close the space between you. He follows by wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pushing you to him to rest your foreheads against each other and just breathe in and be in each other's presence under the shining sun, and by the peaceful blue sea.

——

*SEVERAL YEARS LATER*

A loud gasp escapes your lips as your heart jolts and your eyes spring open. However, you’re quickly forced to shield your eyes from the blinding light that shines before you, letting your other senses take in your surroundings instead, like your ears, that catch the sound of louder chatter, laughter, and music in High Valyrian. Your nose also kicks in and you smell freshly made strawberry tarts, roasted pig, and every other traditional Valyrian food that you love.

But it’s weird because the last thing you remember is…getting swallowed by darkness. It was slightly terrifying, but you couldn’t resist its call, you let it take you…here…

You slowly pull your hand down and open your eyes, catching at that moment, the sight of your hands missing the wrinkles that once marked your skin to proudly show off how long you’ve lived. Now besides seeing the expensive and extravagant jewelry decorating your hands and fingers, you see that your hands look like they did when you were a young adult…

You would ask yourself why and start to panic, but as your surroundings come into focus you realize that you’re in a corridor you don’t recognize, but one still so familiar that doesn’t let you feel estranged. You feel at home like this is where you were meant to be the whole time. It’s why your jolting heart that had started to race calms down to a relaxed beat.

That’s not all, the bright light that once blinded you is not actually before you, but casting through the colorful stained glass set on the stone walls that all tell a story of…your Targaryen ancestors. Every major event that you read in books or got told is told on the glass, even the past you lived through.

You see a visual summary of the war, the dragons that fell, and the family that got torn apart. It’s there and as tempted as you are to walk to it to admire it from up close, the commotion coming from behind the tall doors ahead of you is more tempting, so you break away from the spot you woke up from, walk past grand stone dragon heads sitting at the sides of the doors, and without hesitation you push the doors open, catching sight of the beautiful lilac gown on your body made of your favorite silk from Yi-Ti, and catching sight of your long white-silver hair flowing past you with the swift movement.

Yet what does the sight of a beautiful gown and unique colored hair hold compared to what you see in front of you, the marvelous and breathtaking sight of so many different people, all whom you know in your heart have Targaryen and Velaryon blood running through them just like you. They’re all your family…every body and soul is your family that once lived…just like you…That’s right…you’re dead and now you’re…yet in another space you don’t recognize, but it doesn’t feel at all strange; not with the warm setting sun embracing your figure, or the sight of your family.

You could melt with all the heartwarming bliss you’re already filled with, however, before you can melt, the sound of your name breaks through the commotion, snapping your attention straight ahead.

Albeit you don't catch a thing. The sound of your name continues to be called though so you walk down the stairs and go toward the crowd. Before you can make an attempt to break through though, none other than Jacaerys and Lucerys come out, catching you off guard and paralyzing you right where you are.

“Jace,” you breathe out with your eyes set wide with bewilderment and fascination. “Luke.”

The pair look at one another with a teasing smile before they both offer you heart-warming smiles that you start to mirror as your eyes immediately brim with hot tears.

“Jace…Luke,” you call out again and then laugh, making them flash you a grin before they giggle too and set off toward you, causing you to break away from your spot and run at them. When you meet each other halfway you can’t contain your excitement, you jump on them and they don’t fail to catch you or laugh with you the moment you’re wrapped in each other's embrace.

Nothing is said when you’re tangled in each other's arms; no witty remark, and no funny joke, nothing is passed between you but a comfortable silence as the three of you take in the fact that you’re together again. After so much longing, you’re together again and nothing will tear you apart ever again.

“Mother!”

Your eyes snap open and ahead of you comes Alysanne; the girl who reintroduced you to an agonizing grief when she died after the birth of her first child. Following at her side is your eldest boy, your Aerion who died alongside his step-brother Rickon as they fought a war his cousin Daeron started against Dorne.

They were both gone from your life for so long. You mourned their death until your dying breath because losing children was a different and more painful heartbreak than you had felt before. Alas, there they are and every muscle in your body takes you to them right away.

“<My loves,>” you mewl in High Valyrian as you embrace the both of them the same way you embraced your brothers so you wouldn’t leave either of them out.

“<Mother,>” Alysanne cries as she's overcome with emotion. “It's been so long.”

“I’m here now my darling,” you console her as you rub her back. “I’m here.”

Alysanne nods, you can feel her head moving as she welcomes your comfort as if that’s what she’s been needing since she died.

“Oh,” you gasp and step back to turn around and face your brothers. “I’m assuming you know my brothers, your uncles. Jacaerys and Lucerys.”

“Yes, we do,” Aerion lets you know while Lucerys confirms with a nod.

“Don't worry we’ve been looking out for them since they got here,” Lucerys offers you some consolation, making you smile brightly.

“Not that we needed looking out for,” Alysanne quips. “But we’ve been together all this time. We hardly separate.” She says with the corner of her lips perking up.

“Because mother hardly lets them out of her sight,” Jacaerys interjects and your curiosity piques while every single thought becomes about her.

“Mother…” you mouth and let your children go to step forward and probe. “Where is she?”

Jacaerys’ eyes point forward, past the bodies of your children, so you turn around swiftly as if afraid your mother would disappear, and as if intertwined with each other's thoughts, the dancing crowd in front of you begins to drift away, making a path that leads you to the middle of the floor where your mother is under the twinkling candlelight.

She doesn’t spot you right away, it’s not until she probably feels you staring that she turns and steals your breath when your eyes lock together.

“Mama,” your voice quivers and your heart skips a beat as the commotion around you drowns out, the dancing light all over the room dims except for the lights above her, making her the center of all your attention, and making her beauty that much more enchanting to your eye.

Maybe it is because you haven’t seen her in so long, but something about her just glows.

“Mama,” you say again and start moving toward her with a wobbly smile tugging on your lips and tears flying past you.

Your mother doesn’t lack a reaction; her lips part slightly as her eyes glimmer at the sight of you. She doesn’t keep still either, the moment you make your way toward her she comes after you too, letting you meet in the middle of the hall with a tight embrace that connects your hearts and finally feeds that yearning they felt for each other's connection once again.

“<Oh my sweet,>” she coos as she cradles the back of your head and keeps you close.

“<Mama,>” you keep saying as you weep happy tears, feeling the world around you completely disappear, leaving only you and her in the large hall.

No more yearning and no need to strain your mind to remember how she looked or how she smelled. You’re together again, drawing in her calming scent, and basking in the comfort and warmth only she could provide.

You died an old lady, but here, now, with her and the others you’re the age you were mere days before the war started, that brief period where you were endlessly happy and you had it all; your brothers, your son, Aemond, and your mother.

“<We have all eternity together now,>” she assures you, making you beam and grip onto her tighter.

“<And I’m glad for it. Thank you for looking out for my children. Thank you for loving them while I was gone.>”

She scoffs softly. “<I would do it all for your children because they’re my grandchildren too, so there’s nothing to thank me for…you did good my sweet. I’m so proud of you.>”

You nuzzle your face in the crook of her neck and pamper her with more tears.

“Someone’s been waiting for you,” she interjects, pulling you away from her to look her in the eyes, but not ask who because the moment those words leave her mouth, you think about one person. Thus without asking and without guidance of any guide you let her go and drift away from her to head toward the tall windows that decorate the massive stone walls.

The people around you make way for you without needing to be told, or at least you don’t care to excuse yourself because you’re so consumed by the thought of him; of seeing him, of touching him, and being in his arms again. So much so that when you finally make it past the sea of people and find him outside the window sitting on the roof and watching the sun go down, you stop breathing. Your heart feels like it stops beating and the entire world around you freezes except for him, Aemond.

Just like with your mother, there’s no need to say his name, he turns around and your eyes meet, making sparks fly, and reviving your heart. Whilst his jaw drops and his eyes widen while he slowly stands up.

When he starts moving, your legs move in unison, and after breaking every single barrier of space that was keeping you apart, you throw your arms around each other to bring each other as close as you can manage to be without being in each other's skin.

This time unlike the others there’s no words exchanged because no amount of words can explain how enthralled you both are for being reunited. The longing looks speak for themselves when you pull away at arm's length to take in the sight of each other. The matching breaths share how in sync you are, and the smile your faces hold share how connected your souls are.

Still, he gently cups your cheek, and you cradle his face, taking note that he looks the same age he was when you were the happiest; that moment in time before the war, where you had it all. He chose that moment too, leaving you both to be forever young.

“<Me and you,>” he mutters and pulls you toward him to crash his lips on your forehead.

“<You and me,>” you echo and smile tenderly as your heart feels forever content now.

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A/N- Lived to watch her family die and then outlived her younger brothers and two of her children…

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello lovely fandom! It’s tiiimmeeeee. I’m so ready for this premiere. This hiatus felt like the longest one yet. Probably cause they weren’t allowed to share literally anything for months and months. While I might still gripe we’re only getting 18 and 20 would’ve been better….I am psyched to be analyzing a new season ❤️

Changing these up to First impressions cause mini and I don’t get along in terms of brevity. Now imma try and be briefer since I’ll be doing a deep dive next summer. Hopefully in our next hiatus. *fingers crossed* The library still a turd for new gifs. So had to make all mine. Also I must have a new angle at my new place. So they came out not how I wanted lol But after a full day of work I was too tired to re-do them all. It's a miracle this is coming out with how tired I am haha Anyways bear with me and hopefully next weeks gifs are better ha Off we go!

7x01 The Shot.

Cool thanks recap. Not like we forgot the breakup that ruined us all…Would like to say someday that won't ruin me to watch, but that's a lie...Love that to leave the lineup for recaps now. Thanks.

It's the little things like them sitting next to each other in the swat car that make me so happy. Not gonna lie I was grinning like a damn fool just seeing them seated together. God I missed them. Straight giddy them working together in the field. It’s where they originated. It’s where they’re going to heal.

I love her directing him in the field. That snap of her fingers and he knows instantly what she needs and follows. That beautiful rhythm only they can achieve. Silent communication at it's finest folks. Mmm loving this. Lucy taking down a dude double her size and Tim coming in to help finish him off. Hot damn I love them in the field. Legit ship crack to me everyone. Look at those beautiful humans in motion above. I can't get enough.

Oooh lord T.O Tim *fans self* Mmm Can’t say haven’t missed him. I'll be real honest. Yum. Thank you Nolan for not undermining him while he sized them up. We would've had words sir. It probably shouldn't delight me watching him tear them apart, and yet here we are with me drooling over him. With zero regrets. Just nice to see him in his element after being knocked out of it last year. I shall enjoy this year for him I can already tell.

Ha! Bingo card hit. That's one square down. ‘Grey guides Lucy with her career.’ Yasss I’m a dork I know but you all knew this ha Grey pulling strings to get her to T.O. "Temp." I’m sure it’ll stick. He see’s what a good teacher and leader she is. Look at him jumping starting this for her. Nudging her in the right direction.

Lucy not being sure....Still battling with that UC identity and detective path. Some left over S6 bleh hanging around. I think Grey is setting her path and she has no idea how ‘not temporary’ this will be. At least IMO. I see her excelling at this and wanting to stay at it. Plus like Grey said it’ll strengthen her position should detective come back up. Also like to list the reasons why I think this will be good for her.

One it'll rebuild her confidence. Something we all know was shattered and then run over by s6. Second it'll give her a new purpose and clarity for her career. (Which is also a bingo square for me. Yes I'll be tallying mine all year lol) Now she has to accept being a FT one for it to apply but I think it will. Lastly it'll get rid of the pesky 'Chain of Command' issue for them later on. Because we don't want that again.

Tim enters the chat and he is a most welcome addition. The mini banter about her training. I'm here for it and I love love love it. Look at the flirty smirks on these idiots. Like breathing fresh air once again. The small smirks have me reeling. Gimme. Grey although has no time for this LOL Ushering their asses out. Just happy they can breathe the same air again and not have it be nuclear.

Then the real banter begins. I’ve missed them so much. I wanna cry. Tim instantly offering to give her tips. Is this one of his small doses? Possibly I think he would’ve offered this as an olive branch either way tbh. But I love seeing how eager he is to bond with her over this. Lucy’s so cute with her ‘ My rookie.’ Girl you’re gonna wanna stay a T.O. I already see it.

Lucy of course has her sassy answer locked and loaded for him. He answers right back. Goodness their banter is top tier. And woo another bingo card for me. Well this was not in my official bingo card. BUT I did say how if she ended up as a T.O. this season this would happen. In my 6x08 review said they would end up doing a bet over who trains a better rookie. And here we are. I'm enjoying my spoils and grinning like a happy fool. Which is nice after spending the second half of s6 being emotionally spent and destroyed.

Oh Lucy, like you could ever walk way from your man about a competitive bet of all things. This is how they’re gonna heal my friends. Going back to the beginning. To their roots. Where this rock solid bond was started. In the field. Along with some banter and fiery competition thrown in. This new dynamic has me so giddy I can’t even contain myself.

You can see how excited Tim is she’s going to be a T.O. With him. Flirting with her by offering this up. Moth to a flame with her in general. But this? Man is raring to go. Being a T.O and competition with his girl? He is beaming with excitement. Also probably knows this is a good way to further his cause of mending fences.

The goading of her oh my lord. It’s s4 all over again and I’m here for it. Except Tim is far more aware he’s in love with this woman. The straight teasing and flirting in front of the entire station. Welcome back. Oh my word I love sfm. His telling smirk is amazing. Reeling her back in slowly LOL

Nolan actually ignites more flirty flirts for them when he tells them about the ringer. Because classic John can't shut his yapper. I’ve truly missed this high grade goodness though. Lucy accusing him of hustling her haha Tim deescalates her like only he can with his strong logic. Saying it's actually harder that he has previous experience. He’s not wrong. First thing I thought about him when they said he had experience…Poor Seth called a virgin lmao

The rookies get assigned and we get jealous/protective Tim. Welcome back to our screens. You've been missed. *grabs ice water* This premiere is trying to kill me in the best way. I was here for the show. You tell that cocky little boy babe. I think someone else had one of the rookies flirts with Lucy in their bingo card. So you get that square ha The balls to do that in front of Tim. This kid has a death wish on wheels.

Ovary explosion at the way he barked at him though. Man is making me thirsty af. Also this kid is not a ringer in the least. I know what it’s like to de-program someone. It’s not easy. When I would get someone from another team (and terrible manager btw) I would spend the first 30 days just getting rid of the bad habits before I could begin to mold them. So ringer he is not....Lucy has a better shot with fresh meat tbh. Seth is far more impressionable. Hence her finishing line above.

Tim TEARS Texas a new one. Was kind of hoping he would. Nothing like a solid Tim T.O. rant. This kid needed it holy cow. Too damn cocky for a rookie even with experience. Makes it worse. Get em Tim! I’m enjoying this far too much. Haha Mmm. Sidelines his ass as he should. Maybe he can rejoin when his ego is in check.

This scene had me cackling. First off look at them both with crossed arms. I'm dying. Also Lying liars who lie LOL Both struggling a little bit with their rookies. It’s hilarious. Can’t ever admit fault of course. Very s4 vibes going on here I love it sfm.

Friggin Nolan has to be include himself...Listen John they checked the guest list for this work flirt convo. You're not on it sir. So needy this one. He actually didn't bug me much at all in this one. Probably the lack of Bailey....

Tim’s final T.O scene has me drooling holy hell. The jacket, the stern taking to, and telling them to suck less? I’m dying hahaha I loved how this was shot. Seeing the faces as Tim grills them both. Putting them in place. I love it sfm I'm so VERY excited for this season for him. If this was our look into it I am ready for more.

Oh my word, this final scene of theirs. If you don’t feel giddy, and a sense of promise for reconciliation from this interaction, I can't help you. LOL. I mean that in the nicest way haha I really do. The subtext running through this scene like a bullet train of hope. The moment begins with puppy dog Tim. Let’s take a second to contrast how he just was with the rookies earlier. To seeing his girl in the parking lot. That's the Lucy Chen effect.

That man is walking on air, and beaming his best ‘Lucy’ smile as he approaches her car, looking like a damn snack I wanna devour. I adore the swapping of stories. Giving each other shit but staying confident in their abilities to right their rookies ships as it were. Lucy saying ‘Tomorrow is another day.’ With Tim’s hopeful ‘Yes it is.’ Got me all in my damn feels. To me it’s a positive setup for the entire season. The low key flirty vibes here are glorious first and foremost. Second the flirting inside the promise with those two lines has me reeling.

The smiles they both convey just shows our babies are healing. Lucy is healing. She isn’t holding back with the positivity and flirting right back. There is this underlying UST too. But the most beautiful part is their talk about 'Tomorrow'. Tomorrow is another day for them to get one step closer to being who they once were. Only stronger. Tim’s 'Yes it is.' Is everything. His tone of voice, how he’s looking at her, and that determination to make something out of every day he gets with her. Driven to make tomorrow a day he inches one step closer to the promise he made in the elevator in 6x10. Oooh lord I’m excited for this season.

I said couple days ago how amped I was for this new dynamic. Them being T.O’s together and finding their way back in this fashion. It’s a fantastic and true to them way to do it. Couldn’t be more excited. The LOOKS everyone my god. The way he is pining after her. Doesn’t tear eyes away for a second as she pulls off. And our girl checks the mirror not once but TWICE.

Making eyes right back at him. This scene should excite the hell out of you. I’m scaling the walls right now haha This is as a very very promising opening episode for them. Little more proof they're going to make their way back. Won't be right away but it's coming. This is what I was longing for when we left off all those months ago.

For them to be in a better place to even start this healing. I’m so ready for this journey. I really am. Trusting the writers to do this at the right pace. So when it does happen and it will. We’re gonna be on cloud 9 x1000 Ooof lord that was good. They know how to close out an ep our ship. Watched promo for next ep. I’m vibrating with excitement.

The UST I feel from that little clip is the beauty of Eric and Melissa. This season gonna be incredible i feel it deep in my soul baha Now I’m excited we don’t have a break now that we’re here. As always thank you thank you thank you. To any and all who comments(love me to chat don’t be shy wanna theorize with you all) , like or reblog these. You have no idea how much it means to me. Also proud of myself for keeping this brief ish for me lol Below is my side notes feel free to comment on anything said in this or below till next week my lovely fandom :)

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Side notes non Chenford

No Bailey in a the premiere was already staring off with a win for me. Sorry Jenna but ya know lol sorta not….really…

Lieutenant Grey! So happy for him. Solid reasoning why he got it. Sucks he feels bad but I'm glad for him.

Lots of action off the bat hot damn. They said we'd have more and I loved it

Oooh loving Wes being assumed to the station. Welcome sir. Happy to have you and more Wopez moments to come.

Aaron went to north Hollywood someone had to lol Makes sense he would leave due to Blair. Also leaves the door open for him to return someday. Which makes my heart happy.

Poor Wes has to hear the recording of a man wanting to do things to his wife lol oh my lord. He’s legit having a meltdown about it hahah I sense some trouble for Wopez. Should be interesting season for them.