#This has been on my mind lately and I needed to let it out

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 3

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: GRAB YOUR TISSUES!, this bitch is a whole ass kdrama episode and it’s gonna hurt before it gets better, happy ending tho!, themes of self-loathing, anxiety, and depression (MC), severe postpartum depression (not MC), it’s monsoon season and namgi don’t like umbrellas, (____) in the rain cliche scene, NAMTIDDIES because I can’t help myself, lastly… watch me morph this into another workplace romance/co-workers to lovers story lmao (real)

Word count: ~7k

Posting date: November 21, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. 

I am a clown 🤡 and a liar 🤥 From pretending this is a two-shot, then a three-shot. It has become a chaptered series, atp. There is a part 4 in the works and I fully intend to end it there, but again, I may have just jinxed myself. Anyway! Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist

“She’s Haneul’s mom.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?”

“Sung Kyung and Yoongi… they’ve been good friends for years,” Namjoon explains quickly, his tone almost apologetic. “I didn’t think they were dating. But yeah, she’s his mom. She left for months and when she came back, she'd already given birth.”

You feel like the ground has been ripped out from under you. What Namjoon said made no sense. You clutch the edge of the counter, your mind racing. “What do you mean she left…?” You have never been more confused in your entire life.

Namjoon sighs. “I don’t know all the details. You know hyung, he tells you what he thinks you need to know. The rest, he keeps to himself. But I do know they did the paternity tests and everything, and Haneul’s his, theirs.”

Theirs. It’s easier if Namjoon just slices your heart open at this rate. 

He places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “It’s better to hear it straight from Yoongi-hyung, since you guys are, you know.”

“I– I don’t know. I don’t know what we are,” you say, leaning your weight sideways against the wall to steady yourself. 

Get a grip. It’s Haneul’s day. 

Namjoon stands to shield you from the rest, in case anybody chances to look your way. You probably look like you’re about to puke. You definitely feel like it.

“Joonie…” Your voice is small when you ask, ��Do you think she wants to come back now?”

Namjoon lifts his shoulder, lets it sag, “I don’t know. Maybe. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Your chest tightens, a wave of insecurity crashing over you. Of course, she would want to come back now. She’s beautiful, successful, everything you’re not. And most importantly, she’s Haneul’s mother. That’s the kicker. How can you compete with that?

Spoiler alert: you can’t.

When you step back into the living room, the first thing you notice is Yoongi’s mom. She’s standing off to the side, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glares at Sung Kyung from across the room with a mixture of disapproval and barely-contained irritation.

“She shouldn’t be here,” she says quietly, her voice cold and clipped.

“Eomma,” Yoongi grits.

“She abandoned Haneul, Yoongi,” his mom hisses, her tone sharper now. “And she thinks she can just come here like nothing happened?”

Yoongi sighs, his hand briefly brushing his mother’s arm in a silent plea for calm. “Not here, eomma. Please. It’s Haneul’s birthday. Don’t make a scene.”

Of course he is siding with her.

You’re unable to tear your eyes away from Sung Kyung. How can she look so beautiful even if she looks miserable? She exchanges a few more quiet words with Yoongi near the door, her expression alternating between frustration and what looks like regret. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you catch the way Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen, the way his jaw tightens as she reaches out to brush his arm. You see Yoongi nod, and you’re so curious, what is he agreeing to?

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she leaves. The door is closed, but for sure this chapter isn’t. Not even close.

You entertain yourself by watching some of the BTS members play some video games. Their antics, as funny as they are, don’t really register. Your laughs are hollow, mind totally elsewhere. It’s a while before Yoongi finally finds you, after he disappeared to his studio after Sung Kyung left and went MIA for half an hour or so.

He corners you near the snack table as you pretend to be engrossed in arranging leftover cupcakes.

“Hey,” he says softly, touching your arm lightly.

You turn to face him, your smile brittle. “Hey. How’s everything going?”

“Can we talk?”

You nod, following him toward the hallway, away from the laughter and chatter. The noise completely fades as you enter his soundproof studio and he turns to face you.

He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you,” he says carefully, like he’s choosing every word with precision.

“About Sung Kyung.” you offer. He nods, shoulders visibly tense. “Yeah. And Haneul.”

The mention of Haneul makes your chest tighten, but you steady yourself, waiting for him to continue.

“She and I… we were close for a long time,” he begins, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And yeah, there was a point where I thought it was going somewhere. But then she just… disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“She left Korea. No warning, no explanation. Just… ghosted.” He shrugs. “I didn’t know where she went or why. She didn’t contact me for months.”

“And then one day,” he continues, “she called. Told me she just gave birth to a son. That it was mine.”

The words hang between you, heavy and jarring. You don’t say anything, letting him get it all out.

“She didn’t tell me she was pregnant,” he says, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. “I literally only found out after he was born.”

You feel a pang of sympathy, but then you’re also feeling angry at Sung Kyung. “Why did she wait so long to tell you?”

“She said she didn’t want to burden me. I was already doing my military service and I had that thing… that case. She thought she could handle it on her own.” He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and conflicted. “But after she had him… she couldn’t. She fell into really severe postpartum depression and some other health issues, basically telling me she was diagnosed unfit to take care of him.”

Your throat tightens, and you clasp your hands together to keep them from shaking. “So you stepped in.”

He nods, “I didn’t have a choice. Haneul needed someone, and I couldn’t—I wouldn’t turn my back on him. He’s my son. It was confirmed by a paternity test.”

“And now she’s back,” you say, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, dragging a hand down his face. “She says she’s better. That she wants to be in his life now. That she can be. And honestly… I don’t know what to do.”

You study him for a moment, your emotions warring between compassion and your own sense of inadequacy. “What do you want, Yoongi? Not for her, not for Haneul. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, gnawing his lip before he says, “I just… I want to do what’s right for Haneul.”

The words cut deeper than you expected, but you force a small smile, nodding as if they don’t sting. “That makes sense.”

Yoongi takes a step closer as he studies your face. “But what about you?” he asks, his voice almost too gentle. “How are you feeling about all this?”

The sincerity in his question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re tempted to tell him everything. The ache in your chest, the jealousy you hate admitting to, the fear of losing whatever connection the two of you have built. But instead, you plaster on a smile, shoving all those emotions into a corner of your mind.

“I’m fine,” you say lightly. “It’s Haneul’s birthday. That’s what matters.”

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s trying to read the truth in your expression. But after a moment, he nods, letting it drop. “Okay.”

Finally, you glance at the door, forcing yourself to straighten up. “We should probably get back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, stepping aside to let you pass. But as you reach for the door, his voice stops you.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You turn back, your brows furrowing. “For what?”

“For everything,” he says, his eyes filled with something you can’t quite name.

You don’t know how to respond, so you just nod. Because his words—why did it feel like a goodbye?

The rest of the party passes in a blur. You keep smiling, keep laughing, keep pretending everything is fine. You stand by as Yoongi helps Haneul blow out his single candle, snapping pictures of his chubby hands smashing into the frosting. 

You’re wiping stray frosting from Haneul’s cheek when you glance at him and for a split second, you see her. Sung Kyung’s face is right there, faint but unmistakable, in the shape of his eyes and the curve of his brows.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You freeze, the cloth clutched in your hand, staring at this beautiful baby boy who isn’t yours. Who will never be yours.

It’s too much. You set the muslin down, excusing yourself to the kitchen with a muttered, “I’ll grab more drinks.”

You don’t even make it to the fridge. You stand there by the counter, gripping its edge as you force yourself to breathe, to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never felt more out of place in your life.

Namjoon finds you a few moments later, leaning against the doorway with a quiet, watchful look. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He just stays there, close but not too close, his presence steady and silent. You appreciate him for that—for knowing exactly what you need when you’re unraveling. He’s your best friend after all.

But even his quiet support isn’t enough to keep the emotions at bay.

Across the room, Yoongi’s eomma catches your eye. There’s something pitying in the glances she throws your way, a faint furrow of her brow that makes you want to sink into the floor. You had the feeling she knows there’s something between you and Yoongi, but now… now it feels like she’s seeing through you, like she knows exactly how small you’re starting to feel.

Because the truth is, you’re nothing.

You’re not Haneul’s mom. You’re not Yoongi’s girlfriend. You’re just someone who helps out when it’s convenient, and now that they have a nanny, you’re not even that. And it hurts. God, it hurts because you thought—maybe foolishly, maybe selfishly—that you were becoming something more. That you were becoming someone to them. That, maybe, you were becoming a family.

But now, as you stand there watching Yoongi carry Haneul to his room, barely sparing you a glance, the truth sinks in like a stone in your chest. You’re not someone. You’re a placeholder. A stand-in.

And pretty soon, just like Jiyong, they’re going to discard you. Because that’s what always happens. You’re always easy to leave behind. Always replaceable. Always useless.

The thought claws at you, and you suddenly can’t breathe. You grab your things and run. The cool night air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

The tears come before you can stop them, hot and angry and full of every ounce of self-loathing you’ve tried to bury.

You glance back at the building. Maybe for the last time. You’re on the outside now—of course you are. You’ve been on the outside this entire time.

Namjoon must have noticed you were gone because he texted shortly after:

Joonie: You okay? Joonie: Don’t worry, I told them you weren’t feeling well. Go home and rest. Text me when you’re there.

That night, you ignored Yoongi’s call. You stared at the screen as his name lit up, your finger hovering over the answer button before you let it ring out. He left a voicemail. You deleted it without listening.

The next morning, you wake up to another call from him. This time, he doesn’t leave a voicemail. Instead, he sends a message.

Yoongi: Can I come over?

You stare at the text for a long time, your stomach twisting with guilt and anger and sadness. Finally, you type out a single word:

You: No

You throw your phone face-down on the couch, ignoring the way it buzzes again and again and again.

For the next few days, you ghost him.

It wasn’t easy. Every time your phone buzzes, you feel a pang of guilt, a deep ache that gnaws at your resolve. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. You need time. You need to figure out where you stood in all of this.

His messages come sporadically at first:

Yoongi: Hey, can we talk? Yoongi: I don’t know what I did wrong, but I want to fix it. Yoongi: Please. Just let me know you’re okay.

You delete most of them without reading too much into them. But then he starts sending pictures.

The first was of Haneul, grinning in his chair, wearing the capybara slippers you’d gifted him for his birthday.

Yoongi: Haneul misses you

The next day, another photo. This time, Haneul was lying on his playmat, still wearing the slippers, holding onto Bora.

Yoongi: Still missing you

Each message chips away at your resolve, but the one that breaks you comes Thursday evening:

A short video clip. In it, Haneul is sitting on the floor, babbling as he clutches Bora. And then, clear as day, he says it:

“Sa-ra.”

Your heart twists painfully. It’s clipped, but it’s unmistakably sarang. Your term of endearment for him, the nickname you’d called him since he started smiling every time he heard it. He’d never been able to say it back—not until now.

And Yoongi knows exactly what he is doing, sending this to you.

You stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, leaving the video on loop, before finally opening your call log. His name was right at the top, of course. You hit the call button, your hands trembling as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice comes through almost immediately.

You exhale shakily. “Hi.”

There was a pause. Then he speaks again, and you can hear his vulnerability. “I didn’t think you’d call back.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “How could I ignore that video? Haneul… he said sarang.”

“Yeah, he’s been saying it non-stop since yesterday.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Yoongi… about… us.”

“Mmh?” He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just waited.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began. “Haneul deserves to have a complete family. He deserves to know his mom, to have her in his life. If—if that’s what you both want.”

Yoongi was quiet for a long moment before he finally responded. “But… he needs you, too.”

Before you can back out, “Yoongi, I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Okay.”

It wasn’t a protest. It wasn’t an argument. Just… okay. It’s the most ‘Yoongi’ reaction to things, and you hate it. You hate it so much.

You hang up, staring at the screen until it goes dark. Your chest felt heavy, your heart splintering in ways you didn’t know it could.

You’d told him you needed space and he said okay. The truth is, when you said space, you just wanted him to make room for you. To assure you that you belong with them. That there is a seat, warm and yours. But he didn’t.

You miss Yoongi so much it feels like a physical ache. But it’s not just him. You miss Haneul’s face, his giggles, his sleepy weight in your arms. 

Namjoon has been doing his best to check in. He sends you UberEats nearly every other day, a steady stream of meals you barely touch. The one time he came over, unannounced, he walked into what could only be described as a disaster.

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon muttered, kicking a stray box out of his way as he entered your apartment. The laundry basket was overflowing, your trash can piled up. You were in a 2-day old shirt, hair a rat’s nest, and you’re slouched on the couch with an empty brain.

Namjoon stared at you, his disappointment radiating off him. “Y/N, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, barely looking at him.

He scoffed. “Fine? You look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Twice.”

“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, but the truth of his words stung.

Namjoon crouched in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “Move in with me for now. You know I have the space. You can’t stay here like this. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not moving in with you, Joon,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not your charity case.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re not a charity case. You’re my best friend. And I’m not gonna sit back and watch you drown in your own misery.”

“I’m not gonna live in your and Soyeon’s sex den,” you snapped unnecessarily.

Namjoon just looked at you, shook his head, before he flopped beside you on the couch. He fed you, forced you to go take a shower, and watched some shitty reality show with you. He eventually left, though you could feel the weight of his disappointment long after the door shut behind him. If he only knew how thankful you were of those visits.

A week later, you find yourself standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment. You didn’t plan this. You don’t even know what you’re hoping to achieve by being here. All you know is that the ache of missing them—missing him—has become unbearable.

You knock on the door before you can second-guess yourself.

Mrs. Kwon opens it, her expression immediately uneasy. “Y/N,” she says, her tone cautious. “You should come back another time.”

“Why?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s just… not a good time.”

“I need to see them,” you insist, stepping forward.

“My dear girl, please listen—”

But you’re already past her, your determination overriding her warnings.

When you step into the living room–

Fuck.

There she is. Sung Kyung, sitting on the floor with Haneul in her lap, holding a plush toy you don’t recognize. She’s smiling at him, her voice soft as she tries to coax him into playing with it. Adding salt to the wound–Bora, the capybara plush you gave Haneul, is discarded carelessly in the corner near the diaper pail.

Your heart stops, and before you can control yourself, you take a step back, your movement catching Sung Kyung’s attention. She looks up, confused. She doesn’t know you, why would she? 

Yoongi’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn to see him emerging from his studio, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Who rang the—”

His eyes widen when he sees you, but you’re already moving, your feet carrying you toward the door in a blind rush.

“Wait—Y/N!”

You barely hear him as you bend down and snatch Bora from the floor. Haneul’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, his tiny, excited voice calling out, “Sa-ra! Sa-ra!”

Tears blur your vision as you wrench the door open and run, Yoongi’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop.

It’s raining when you step outside. Great, because this day couldn’t get any worse. The cold droplets soak through your clothes almost instantly. You don’t have an umbrella, but you don’t give a shit. Tears stream down your face mixing with the rain.

You don’t know how far you get before you feel it—a warmth against your back, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Yoongi’s voice cracks as he says your name, his rain-soaked body like a furnace against your shivering frame. “Please.”

He sounds like he is begging, but why? What is he asking? What does he want from you?

You shake your head, your voice breaking. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?” he asks, his tone desperate, his chest heaving as he pulls you tighter.

“Because I thought… I thought I had a place here. But I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice barely audible over the rain as he turns you to face him. His hands come up to cradle your face. He was starting to shake too, the pads of his fingers damp against your skin. His eyes search yours, desperate, and before you can stop him—or yourself—he closes the space between you and kisses you.

Against the pouring rain, your lips press against each other, clumsy, shaky, unexpectedly urgent. His lips move like he’s trying to say all the things he can’t find the words for, like this is his only way to make you understand. And for a second, maybe a minute, maybe more, you let him.

You feel his ragged breaths as he licks into your mouth, his hair brushing your temple, droplets trailing down your skin. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently through your wet hair. It’s tender and fierce all at once, like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

But there is a tinge of bitterness cutting through the taste of his kiss. This isn’t enough—not to fix everything, not to erase the doubt clawing at the edges of your mind. Not to prevent the new thoughts from worming its way inside.

Sung Kyung is in his apartment right now. So maybe it’s not just about Haneul anymore. Maybe they’re reconciling. Trying to sort out their own feelings that they put on ice. Yoongi did say he thought their relationship was going somewhere. 

God, you do not want to be some homewrecker. You cannot do that to Haneul. Weakly you try to pull back. 

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. His lips chase yours, teeth gently sinking into your plush and you’re unable to stifle the moan from your mouth at the delicious sting. You open up to him, lips sliding against his as his other hand grips your waist now, pulling you closer until you can really feel the heat of his body through the drenched fabric of his clothes. The world feels like it’s spinning, everything is blending into a dizzying blur, and you don’t know how to stop it.

Your hand hovers at his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. Your heart is screaming to hold on just a little longer. But your head is telling you—

“No,” you whisper, breaking away as quickly as you can without slipping on the slick ground. Your chest heaves as you clutch Bora tighter against you.

Yoongi stands frozen, his lips parted as if he’s about to speak, his dark eyes locked on yours. The rain clings to his lashes, his hair plastered to his forehead, and for a moment, he looks completely lost.

“I can’t do this, Yoongi,” you choke out, your voice shaking. “I just… I can’t.”

And before he can stop you, you turn and run again, your feet splashing through puddles as you make your way to the nearest bus stop. By some miracle, you make your way home in one piece. Barring one vital organ that’s discarded somewhere in Hannam.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad - Stan, Eminem

Your apartment is cold and quiet, the soft patter of rain against the windows the only sound. The mug of tea on your table has long since gone cold, untouched, as you sit curled up on the couch, staring at that grainy selca Yoongi sent you weeks ago. 

You’re startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Namjoon steps in, shaking off the rain and holding a grocery bag in one hand, his hoodie slung over his shoulder. He’s soaked to the bone, but he flashes you his dimples anyway.

“You know,” he starts, setting the bag on the counter, “for someone who always claims they’re fine, you sure as hell don’t look it.”

“Don’t start, Joon,” you mumble, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Namjoon ignores you, glancing around the apartment with a disapproving look. “Seriously? It still looks like you just moved in. No decorations, no warmth. This part could be a photo wall or something…”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Art influencer.”

“I need a dry shirt,” he says, gripping the edge of his tee and pulling it up and over his head without fanfare.

You’ve never felt attracted to your best friend in any physical or sexual way ever (seriously, ew), but you can appreciate a good physique when you see one.

“Wow, Joonie, are your tiddies getting bigger?” you say as you stand to find a shirt for him from your makeshift closet.

“You’re an idiot.”

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Namjoon straightens, wiping his hands on his pants. “You expecting someone?”

You shake your head.

Namjoon strides to the door, glancing through the peephole with a tsk before pulling it open. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s shirtless, which would be awkward enough if it were anyone else standing there. 

But it’s Yoongi.

Yoongi stands in the hallway, his expression strained, his eyes immediately scanning the room behind Namjoon until they land on you, curled on the couch. You clutch the t-shirt you were about to lend Namjoon tighter against your chest, unsure whether to feel relief, anger, or the painful longing that’s been gnawing at you for days.

“I need to talk to her,” Yoongi says, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.

Namjoon steps into the doorway, crossing his arms as he blocks the entrance. “Maybe not today, hyung.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t flinch. “I have to. I need to explain.”

Namjoon doesn’t budge, his voice soft but firm. “Sorry, hyung. Not after everything.”

Yoongi’s eyes flick to you again, desperate. “I just… fuck,” He swallows hard, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t let her think she doesn’t matter to me. She does. More than anyone.”

Namjoon hesitates for the first time, glancing back at you. His expression softens briefly, but when he turns to Yoongi again, it’s your voice that responds.

“Yoongi.” Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. Both men turn to you, and the hope that flashes across Yoongi’s face makes your lungs shrivel.

You grip the fabric in your hands tighter, willing yourself to stay firm. “You should go.”

Yoongi’s lips part as if to argue, but the look in your eyes silences him. He nods once, slowly, his expression crumbling for just a moment before he turns away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it.

Namjoon watches him for a moment longer before stepping back into the apartment and shutting the door.

The first step is always the hardest.

Namjoon didn’t sugarcoat anything when he told you to get your shit together. “I love you,” he said bluntly after Yoongi left that rainy night, “but you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of this. No one else is coming to save you. Not me. Not Jiyong. Not Yoongi. Just you.”

You hated hearing it, but he was right.

So you took the first step: you called a therapist. Twice a week, you sat in that tiny, clinical room and talked about everything you’d buried for years. The abandonment issues you’d carried since childhood. The shame you felt after your relationship with Jiyong fell apart. The way you constantly give pieces of yourself to others, just like you did with Haneul and Yoongi, leaving nothing for yourself. Thinking that’s okay.

Session by session, the fog began to lift. Slowly, you started to understand that happiness couldn’t come from someone else, no matter how deeply you loved them. It had to come from you—built piece by piece, nurtured, protected.

You realized that loving yourself wasn’t selfish. It was necessary. And for the first time in months, you began to believe you were worthy of it.

At home, you started small. One night, you finally tackled the pile of laundry that had been haunting you for weeks. Another night, you scrubbed down the kitchen until the counters gleamed. And then one weekend, you went to IKEA and bought a bed frame—not just a functional one, but a beautiful one that made you feel excited to wake up in the mornings.

You even hung up paintings on the walls, little pops of color that made the apartment feel like it was actually yours. Namjoon gave you some from his collection, too.

Running sucks, but it became your nightly ritual. At first, it was hard. Your legs ached, and your lungs burned. But the more you pushed yourself, the better it felt—the rush of endorphins, the rhythm of your feet hitting the pavement, the way your thoughts quieted for just a little while.

Bit by bit, you started to feel lighter. Like you were shedding layers of weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying.

And then there was Yoongi.

He was still a constant name on your phone, though the tone of his messages had shifted over time. At first, his texts were full of apologies and pleas for a second chance:

Yoongi: I know I messed up. Please let me make it right.

Yoongi: I’m sorry for everything. I hate that I hurt you.

Yoongi: I need you, Y/N. I should have told you sooner.

Yoongi: Can I come over? I really want to explain everything.

Yoongi: I’m an idiot.

Yoongi: I’ll wait for you. Just tell me when you’re ready to talk.

Then came the texts about Haneul:

Yoongi: Haneul misses you. Not to one-up my own kid, but I miss you more.

Yoongi: Han said your name today. He kept pointing at the door like he was waiting for you to walk in.

Yoongi: I bought him a new Bora. This giraffe is lame. [image attached]

Yoongi: Han’s been carrying Bora 2.0 everywhere. He even tried to feed it rice last night.

And now, weeks later, his messages had settled into something different.

Yoongi: I was in the studio all day, and Hobi made me take a break. We ended up eating too much fried chicken and now I have a zit.

Yoongi: How was your run today? Namjoonah says you’re joining a mini marathon. Good luck!

Yoongi: Still have boxes of Silver Moon tea. It’s too bougie for my ghetto taste buds. Lmk if you want it. Yoongi: Actually, no need. I'll send it thru Namjoonah.

Yoongi: I fucked up the choreography to our new track at Mubank today like an amateur. I hope you didn’t get to watch it.

They were simple, almost mundane. But Yoongi’s texts had a way of hitting you square in the chest. You think back to that conversation in his home, the one where he admitted how lonely he sometimes felt—how he wished for someone to talk to about the little things, the big milestones, everything in between. Someone to share life with. And now, with every message he sends, it feels like he’s choosing you.

Even though weeks have passed without seeing him, he’s still there. Reaching out. Trying to stay connected. Even when you never reply.

But his messages have become tiny bursts of dopamine in your otherwise quiet days. You’re both surprised and relieved he hasn’t stopped trying, that he hasn’t grown tired of pouring himself into the void of your Kakao.

Namjoon told you recently that Yoongi and Sung Kyung have started co-parenting Haneul. She gets supervised visits twice a month. At first, the green-eyed monster threatened to come out. But your best friend tells you that Yoongi never wanted to rekindle anything with Sung Kyung, which gave you some peace. Maybe if you’d been braver back then, you could’ve asked Yoongi yourself. Maybe if Yoongi had been better at communicating, he would have told you then it wouldn’t have felt like such an uphill climb.

But, he was also having such a difficult time, sorting through his own circumstances. And your insecurities at the time were too heavy, too overwhelming to sift through. You probably wouldn’t have believed him then. The progress you’ve made now—to love yourself first—feels hard-won and necessary. And maybe Yoongi also needed to go on a journey to really know what he wants for him and Haneul.

You’ve come to realize through all this that you don’t really hate Sung Kyung. Maybe you were angry on behalf of Yoongi and Haneul for all the secrets she kept, for the ways her choices hurt them both. There was even a night when you found yourself doing a Naver search on postpartum depression. You hadn’t understood how debilitating it could be, how it could turn even the strongest person into a shell of themselves. It didn’t excuse everything, but it gave you perspective, especially as you battle your own demons.

Still, as you journey forward, there are moments when you imagine the “what ifs” with Yoongi, if Sung Kyung hadn't showed up that day. Sometimes, late at night, your mind drifts back to him. You replay his kiss, remembering the way it felt, the way he tasted. You can still conjure the image of his face under the rain, the way he looked at you in that fleeting, heart-wrenching moment.

You wonder if he thinks about it, too. You know he’s waiting. You just hope that when you’re finally ready to let him back in, he’ll still be there—on the other side, willing to try again.

One evening, Namjoon called, his tone unusually excited. “Hey, I’ve got something for you.”

“No, I don’t need more lube, I’m stocked,” you joked, just to be a piece of shit.

“Shut up and listen,” he said, laughing. “Hybe’s opening a daycare for employees’ kids. They need someone to run it. You’re perfect for this.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Joonie, I don’t even—”

“Don’t even try to argue,” he interrupted. “You have a degree in early childhood education. You love kids. This was your literal job in the states. C’mon, this is made for you.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

Namjoon sighed. “You are. I’ve seen how much work you’ve been putting in. You’re stronger than you think. Just… apply. The worst they can do is say no.”

You’re quiet, so he added. “...and they won’t. I’ll have each member of Bangtan sign a recommendation letter for you.”

“You’re too much, Joonie,” you laugh. But you surely won’t put it past him to do that. “But ok, I’ll apply.”

So you did. And a week later, you got the call.

Your first day at Hybe’s daycare center feels like a dream you didn’t know you had. The space is beautiful—sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the colorful toys, tiny tables, and pastel murals. There are only three kids who pre-registered, but you were expecting more to walk in.

Namjoon is there, truly your ride or die, sitting casually on your desk with his ever-supportive grin. “You nervous?” 

“Nope,” you say, trying to sound confident. But the way your voice wavers gives you away.

Namjoon chuckles. “Relax. You’re going to crush this.”

Before you can respond, the door swings open, and in walks Hobi with Yunjin and their toddler, Jeongyeon. The little girl looks adorable in her sunflower-patterned overalls, her tiny pigtails bobbing as she walks toward the play area.

“Jeongyeon, say hi to teacher Y/N,” Yunjin says, gently guiding her forward.

“Hi!” Jeongyeon squeaks.

You crouch down to her level. “Hi, Jeongyeon! You’re gonna have so much fun today.”

“First kid of the day, ayeeee!" Hobi says, high-fiving Yunjin, before she runs to Jeongyeon who is mounting the toy pony. Then he turns to you, “Congratulations, Y/N.”

Just as they’re leaving, Namjoon nudges you. “By the way, did you know there’s a capybara mascot today?”

“What?” you blink, confused.

Before Namjoon can explain, something soft and warm suddenly envelops you in a hug. You turn to see a capybara mascot wrapping its plush arms around you, its giant head tilted adorably to the side.

“What the…” You laugh, surprised, grasping its arm. “Hybe really went all out, huh?”

Namjoon smirks. “Of course. First-day activations are a big deal here. And look at that, your favorite animal. What a coincidence.”

You grin, stepping back to look at the mascot. “Guess I’m a little biased, but this might be the cutest thing ever.”

The mascot gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up. 

Shortly, Haneul arrives. The moment you see him toddling through the door, all your nerves, all the weight you’d carried for weeks—gone. There’s no ache, no tension. Just pure, uncomplicated happiness.

His nanny, a kind older woman, walks him in, holding his hand as he peers curiously around the room.

Haneul bounds toward you giggling, his gummy smile stretching wide as he lets go of the nanny’s hand and waddles toward you.

“Hi, sarang,” you say, crouching down to scoop him into your arms. He smells like baby lotion and sunshine, and your chest feels full as he buries his face in your shoulder. “I missed you.”

You glance toward the door, your eyes darting around instinctively, but there’s no sign of Yoongi. A small pang of disappointment settles in your stomach before you shake it off. He’s probably holed up in his studio, working on something brilliant. It would have been nice to see him though.

The capybara mascot wanders over, drawing Haneul’s attention instantly. His eyes light up as he points at it, giggling.

“Appa!” Haneul says excitedly, punching the knee of the mascot with his tiny fists.

You laugh, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “That’s not your appa, Haneul. He’s probably in one of the big studios upstairs working very hard right now.”

The mascot gives you a pat on the head, and something about its movements feels oddly familiar. But you don’t dwell on it, too caught up in Haneul’s delighted squeals as the mascot does a little dance for him. It sure loves to shake its ass.

For the rest of the morning, you’re in your element, guiding the kids through activities, wiping tears, and singing songs during circle time. Every so often, Haneul points at the mascot and calls out “Appa!” again, and you can’t help but laugh.

And if the capybara mascot seems to hover a little longer around Haneul, or if it lingers near you whenever there’s a chance, well… you just chalk it up to coincidence.

(One day, much later, you’ll find out the truth. But for now, you’re content not knowing.)

That night, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out to find another message from Yoongi.

Yoongi: Congratulations on your first day!

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. For the first time in weeks, as you look at your thread of messages from him, you let yourself smile—a small, cautious smile, but a smile nonetheless. And for the first time in months of radio silence, you type up your first reply to him.

You: Thanks, Yoongi. I’m really happy. :)

His reply came almost immediately.

Yoongi: You deserve it

And it may have taken a while, but you finally believe that. So you decide you are also finally ready to do this.

You: Can we talk? Yoongi: giv me 10 mins im cming overr

:)

A/N: 

Alright!! Wheeeew! You good? How are you feeling?!?!? As usual, please sound off in the comments. 💕

I just want to say that am so proud of this chapter. I think I wrote my best, angst work here. Plus - Kissing in the rain? Namtiddies? A taste of smau? Hee hee. 🤗 

If you make it to here, thank you so so much for reading this story, you lovely, beautiful, human! xo

Part 4 is coming uppp and it’s gonna be a doozy~ 🤭

P.S. As some of y’all know I am a mom and I have experienced post-partum depression before. It was nowhere near the severity of how it is depicted here (a condition that is grave and rare because the character also has other mental struggles), but I empathize. I cannot imagine being truly unfit to care for my own baby. So I request that we do not vilify L&L! LSK. She fucked up real baddd, she could’ve involved Yoongi earlier, etc etc but again she is trying to do better. Plusss, it needs to be said, she does not want Yoongi. Gasp. Y’all can rest easy. He’s yours! 💕

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.

Taglist:

@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld

@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos

@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk

@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen

@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake

@flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond

@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne

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@jkkkkkay @chimmisbae @angellekookie @jovanaprime @txtsoobean @joonlovely

@kookiewithluv @soop-sprite @hyukaluve

[favefandomimagines]

Daylight (r.c)

Summary: it takes Rafe some time to realize what he has

AN: this is very one tree hill code with JJ being very Lucas Scott esque lol and this was PURELY self indulgent, no one asked for this

Y/N Routledge sat on the edge of her bed, feeling like she could throw up at any second. The little plastic stick in her trembling hand bore the answer she had been dreading and hoping wasn’t true. The bold letters stared back at her like they were mocking her.

Pregnant.

Her mind raced. It felt as though the world had tilted off its axis. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight. What now? Who could she possibly confide in about this? How could she even begin to explain? The answer wasn’t simple, not when the father was Rafe Cameron.

For a year, their relationship—or whatever it was—had been a secret. Late-night meetings, whispered words in the dark, stolen moments when no one was looking. There had never been an official label on it. Rafe had made sure of that. “Labels complicate things,” he’d said, and Y/N, hopelessly drawn to him despite every red flag, had agreed.

But now? Things were complicated anyway.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. The door swung open, and there stood her brother, John B, looking confused and concerned.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, leaning against the frame. “You’ve been in here for a while.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She shoved the pregnancy test behind her back, but she wasn’t fast enough.

“What’s that?” His eyes narrowed, the easy-going brotherly demeanor replaced with something sharper.

“Nothing,” she blurted out, but John B wasn’t buying it.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

The lump in her throat grew too large to ignore, and before she knew it, the words came tumbling out. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

For a moment, John B just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a long exhale, he sat down beside her.

“Okay,” he said carefully. “I’m not gonna ask who the father is. That’s your business. But whoever it is, he deserves to know.”

Y/N looked down at the floor, her chest tightening. “I don’t even know how to tell him,” she admitted. “What if he doesn’t want this?”

John B reached over, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Then you don’t need him. You’ve got me. And the rest of the Pogues. We’ll figure it out. This kid's gonna have a pretty cool life, Y/N. I promise.”

Y/N nodded her head. “I’m so scared, JB.” She whispered. John B nodded his own head before he pulled his sister in for a tight hug.

“I know you are. But you’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” He told her gently.

||

Later that evening, Y/N stood nervously outside Tannyhill. Her palms were clammy, her stomach a mess of nerves. She had rehearsed what she wanted to say a thousand times, but now that she was here, the words felt like they dried up in her throat.

When Rafe opened the door, his blue eyes scanned her face, immediately sensing something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “I need to tell you something.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, her voice shaking.

For a moment, he just stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, as the realization sank in, his expression darkened.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, Rafe. I’m serious.” Y/N replied.

He ran a hand over his buzzed his hair, pacing the room. “I… I can’t do this right now,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m trying to get my dad’s business back on track, and now you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”

Y/N felt the sting of his words like a physical blow. “I didn’t plan for this, Rafe! But it’s happening.”

He turned to face her, his eyes cold. “Maybe you should just do it alone. I’m not raising a kid with a Pogue.”

That cut deeper than anything else he’d said. Tears burned in her eyes as she stared at him, her heart breaking. “Really? That’s how you feel?” She asked, her voice unsteady. “Yeah, that’s how I feel. Did you really expect we were going to play big happy family?” He snapped.

Y/N let out a teary scoff before her impulsive thoughts took over. She stepped closer to Rafe, the palm of her hand connecting with his cheek, the sound of the slap echoing throughout the foyer. Without another word, Y/N turned and walked out the door.

||

One year later, and Y/N had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. It wasn’t an easy feat, but Y/N had John B and Sarah. Taking their roles as aunt and uncle way too seriously.

Now, Y/N cradled her one-year-old daughter, Isla, as the Pogues gathered on the beach. The little girl was the spitting image of her father—Rafe’s blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes. It was a constant reminder of the man who had walked away.

But Y/N wasn’t alone. John B, Sarah, JJ, Kiara, Cleo, and Pope had rallied around her, becoming Isla’s extended family. JJ, in particular, had taken to the role of honorary uncle with enthusiasm, and Isla adored him.

As JJ held Isla over the waves, her tiny giggles filled the air, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at you, kiddo,” JJ said, spinning her gently. “You’re a natural beach bum.”

From the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed a familiar figure further down the shore. Rafe was there, flanked by Topper and Kelce, his gaze locked on her. Then, his eyes then shifted to JJ and Isla.

He’d have to be an idiot to deny that that one year old was his. Y/N had kept the baby and now he was feeling an influx of emotions. Anger, regret, jealousy. Jealous that another man was raising his child, jealous that another man was in his place.

Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. JJ walked back to Y/N, handing Isla to her with a smile. Y/N couldn’t help but smile down at her daughter. But then she remembered who was watching them. When she whispered something to JJ, he turned and saw Rafe, his expression immediately hardening.

JJ said something else to her and Y/N walked back towards the rest of the Pogues. Rafe and JJ were now walking towards each other, JJ not messing around when it comes to Isla and Y/N.

“You need to leave her alone,” JJ said, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s my daughter,” Rafe snapped. “I have a right to know her.”

JJ scoffed. “You don’t get to decide that. Y/N does and you left her. You told her you weren’t raising a kid with a Pogue. You don’t deserve a second of her time.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Just because you’re playing house with my girl and my kid doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.” JJ laughed bitterly. “I’m not with Y/N. I’m just picking up the slack from the coward who abandoned them.”

Rafe stood there, seething with anger and regret, as JJ's words lingered in the air. But before he could say anything more, Topper yelled his name.

||

Later that night, Rafe pulled up to the old Maybank property that was now the Pogues sanctuary. He hadn’t prepared a single thing to say to Y/N. He knew there was a very high possibility that she would slam the door in his face.

What he said to her that night was harsh. He knew that and he knew he couldn’t take it back. He knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer the door. Rafe could hear the laughter and the music playing from the other side.

John B was the one to pull the door open, Isla in his arms. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat upon the sight of the little girl. “What are you doing here?” John B asked. “I’m uh, c-can I talk to Y/N?” He stammered.

Y/N’s brother looked at the man with furrowed brows, not used to seeing him in such an insecure, uncertain state. John B hated Rafe for what he did to Y/N, but Isla deserves a father. No matter how that happens.

“Y/N!” John B called. He turned away and walked back down the hall and soon Y/N appeared in the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Rafe asked. Y/N was hesitant; their last conversation did not go well obviously. “Um, sure. We can talk down at the store.” She answered.

The two walked silently down the dock to the bait shop where Y/N knew no one would be eavesdropping on them.

“Rafe, before you say anything, I didn’t want this to be how you found out. I didn’t want it to come to this,” she said quietly, her voice trembling but steady. “But you can’t just expect me to pretend like you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t want this baby. You walked away. You made your choice.”

Rafe flinched, her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but something stopped him. The way she held Isla, the way Isla smiled at her mother, the warmth between them—it hit him all at once. What he had lost, what he could have had, and how foolish he’d been to let pride and fear dictate his actions.

“I—” He paused, swallowing hard. “I screwed up. I was scared, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to be the kind of man you needed.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, but she didn’t look away. “You had a choice, Rafe. We both did. You made yours. I made mine.”

He took a step forward, his gaze falling to the water, as if he were gathering the courage to say what needed to be said. “I was wrong. And I know it. I’ve been trying to fix everything else, but I didn’t even try with you… with Isla. I was too damn proud. Too scared. But I don’t want to be that man anymore. I want to be a part of her life. I want to be a part of your life.”

Y/N blinked, the warmth in her chest slowly spreading, though the ache of everything that had happened still lingered. “It’s not going to be easy. We can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“I don’t want to,” he said softly. “I want to start fresh. As a father. As someone you can count on.”

A long silence passed between them, the weight of the past still hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded. “Okay. But you need to prove it. You need to show me you’re in this. All in. For her. For me.”

Rafe’s heart pounded, but he could see the flicker of hope in her eyes. Hope he thought he’d lost. “I will. I swear I will.”

||

The sun was shining brightly over the beach house, casting a golden glow over the yard where Isla’s second birthday party was in full swing.

The Pogues, along with Rafe, were scattered across the yard, setting up and getting ready to celebrate the little girl who had brought so much joy into their lives.

John B and Pope were hanging colorful decorations from the trees and the porch, adding the final touches to a vibrant banner that read, “Happy Birthday, Isla!”

Sarah and Kie were carefully bringing out a pile of birthday gifts, wrapping paper and bows sparkling in the sunlight.

Meanwhile, Isla was darting around the yard, laughing as JJ ran after her, pretending to be a superhero.

JJ scooped her up in his arms, making jet engine noises as he spun her around, keeping her distracted so she wouldn’t see the presents waiting inside.

Rafe stood off to the side, leaning against the window frame of the house, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before him. His heart swelled as he watched Isla giggle, her little feet kicking in the air as JJ swung her around like a plane.

Her laugh was like music to his ears, a reminder of how much he’d missed and how far he’d come since that day on the beach.

Y/N, who had just finished setting the cake down on the table, noticed Rafe standing there, his eyes soft and full of affection. She smiled to herself and walked over to him, sliding her arm around his bicep as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What’s got you all smiley?” she asked softly, her voice gentle but teasing.

Rafe looked down at her, a look of gratitude and tenderness crossing his features. “You,” he said simply. “Isla. You letting me back into your life and into hers.”

Y/N’s heart melted, and she lifted her chin to look up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him softly, the kind of kiss that spoke of everything they’d been through and everything they’d built together.

As they pulled apart, John B appeared at the doorway with a grin. “Alright, JJ, it’s time for cake and presents!”

JJ, who had been in the middle of a game of "airplane" with Isla, immediately scooped her up again, making exaggerated flying noises as he carried her inside. Isla squealed with laughter, her little arms flailing in the air as JJ pretended she was a plane about to take off.

As they entered the living room, JJ passed Isla off to Rafe with a grin. “Special delivery!”

Rafe smiled and crouched down to gently set Isla in her chair. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head, a tender moment of fatherly affection. Isla beamed up at him, her tiny hands reaching up to grab his face, a look of adoration in her eyes.

Y/N stood beside them, watching with a heart full of love as Rafe straightened up and looked at her with a smile. This moment was everything they’d fought for—a family, together, stronger than ever.

As Isla sat at the table, her little hands covered in frosting as she tried to grab a slice of cake, Rafe took a seat next to her, helping her scoop up a piece. Y/N joined them, wrapping an arm around Rafe’s shoulder as she placed a kiss on Isla’s cheek.

The room was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and joy as everyone gathered around, ready to celebrate Isla’s special day. It was simple, but perfect. They were a family now, not just by blood, but by choice. And in this moment, surrounded by love and happiness, they all knew they’d found something rare and precious.

John B raised his glass, a grin on his face as he toasted, “To my niece Isla, the brightest light in all of our lives.”

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses in unison, as Isla clapped her little hands, excited by the attention.

“Cheers!” Rafe said, glancing over at Y/N with a smile that said it all.

Y/N smiled back, squeezing his hand. “Cheers.”

As the cake was passed around, Isla sat contentedly on Rafe’s lap, covered in frosting and giggling with pure joy. And in that moment, as they all looked on at the little girl they had all come to love, Rafe and Y/N knew this was exactly where they were meant to be—together, as a family.

[certified-sleep-deprived]

hi! I was wondering if you could do an Agatha harkness x reader comfort fic for self harm? it's totally okay if not!! 🫶🫶

Hiya!! I wouldn't mind at all! As someone who used to struggle with SH, it was kind of nice to write a hurt/comfort for it. If you guys need someone to talk to, my dms are open :')

I have been very slow with this because of tech week, performances for a play, and then getting sick, sorry!! I'm getting to all my requests I promise yall. This one was a bit shorter than I intended but I still enjoyed writing it

°Agatha with a s/o who sh's°

Warnings/notes: mentions and descriptions of self harm, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, soft Agatha for the win

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. You, there on the floor of the bathroom, were mid-way cutting your wrist with a knife as you stared at her with wide eyes. Your arm was covered in dripping blood as it started pooling on the floor. Tears spilled out of your eyes as she kneeled down beside you on the rough, tiled floor.

Her hand gently placed itself over yours that held the knife, and she softly pried it from your blood soaked fingers. You let her do so, as you know you couldn't fight her.

The knife was placed in the sink, and she took your injured arm in both her hands, not seeming to care about being covered in your blood.

"Agatha-"

"Why...? Why would you..." She cuts you off.

She is at a loss for words as she chokes on a sob, tears of her own spilling down her face. Guilt hits you like a freight train, and you hang your head in shame, and you try to take your arm away from her but she doesn't relent. She grabs your hips and uses them to pull you into her lap so she can have an easier time cleaning up your wounds.

The next ten or so minutes as she cleaned the cuts was full of winces and gasps of pain as wet paper towels and peroxide dragged and seeped into your cuts; it felt like acid was burning at you when the peroxide was used to clean any dirt. As soon as she was done cleaning your cuts, she made sure to press gentle kisses to every single one of them, like a dog would to its own wounds. She wraps your arm in moisturizing medicine and gauze to prevent it from opening or drying out overnight.

As you attempt to get up, she doesn't let you, but instead she picks you up and brings you to the bed you two share. She places you in a sitting position, and you can't meet her gaze the whole time. Noticing this, her voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Doll, look at me, please?"

She tilts your chin up, and she sees the redness of your face and the glassy look of your eyes that mirrored her own. All that is in your gaze is guilt and pain, and her heart aches at the sight. You try your best to avoid her gaze, but it's impossible with how close she is holding your face to hers. A thumb gently rubs your cheek, and instinctively you lean into her hand with fresh tears flowing out of your eyes. The same thumb wipes some of them away with tenderness.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but know I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

You nod at her words, and you take a deep breath before speaking to ground yourself.

"Its just... shit has been so stressful lately with my job making me stay later and raising my workload, all the deadlines, and then seeing someone from years ago who I had a falling out with today didn't help."

She looked you in the eye the whole time you were speaking, tentatively listening.

"I haven't cut in so long, but I relapsed just like that" you say with a snap of your fingers.

"How could I let myself slip". You weep for your relapse.

Her mouth opens as if she was going to say something, but no words come out. Not like they could as you spoke again before she could get the chance.

"I'd understand if you want to leave or anything. I won't judge or blame you."

~~~~~~

...what?

Her expression changed from that of a gentle one, to very confused as her nose scrunched up. Before you could get on a rambling train, she pulls your face to hers for a gentle kiss. It didn't last long before she pulled away and made you look her in the eye.

"Now why would I do that? You think I would really leave you, especially in a time where you need me?"

She continues holding your face in her hands, rubbing your cheekbones with her thumbs in a gentle caress.

Your gently pushed down on your back, and she lays on her side, facing you. A hand places itself on your bandaged arm and lightly strokes the length of it.

"I'm here for the long haul, no matter what happens. Im going to be here for you in your highs and your lows, darling. I won't leave because of you... harming yourself like this."

Your heart swells at her words, and you can't help the guilt train that hits you in the face, because she's staying with you even with your flaws. Agatha seems to have noticed the shift in your already guilty expression, as she cups the underside of your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

"Dont let anything eat away at you. Everyone had their was of... destressing, I guess you can put it. It isn't a way I endorse, but I can help you find a better way. That's why I'm here."

She looks at you with glassy eyes, brushing some hair out of your face tenderly. Your gaze flicks down to her lips and back up. She does the same and smiles, catching your gaze again as her lips find their way to yours. Her usual rough nature is pushed aside in this moment, a soft side reserved only for you as she tries to ease your pain.

"Let me be your shoulder to cry on. Don't do this when you have a bad day, come to me. I feel like such an awful girlfriend for not even noticing how you were feeling. I've been so wrapped up in mentoring Billy lately that I haven't even spared any of my time for you..."

She traces her fingers along the underside of your jaw as she talks. You grab her hand and you trail kisses from her finger tips up her arm before speaking again.

"Don't feel awful. I know how much he needs your help. The boy is just finding out who and what he is, so I understand. I'm just used to hiding my feelings and masking them, so that's likely why you didn't pick up on anything initially."

You look eachother in the eyes before embracing again, occasional sniffles and sobs escape you two before you separate and Agatha gently pushes you to lay down on the bed.

"Let's get some sleep, bunny. It's been an emotional night for us, so let's rest."

All you can manage is a nod as sleep starts to creep up on you like a fox. Agatha slips into the bed beside you and pulls you close so she is spooning you. The last thing you hear before you fall into slumber is a soft 'goodnight' from behind you, and then a tender kiss on your head.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Your Favorite Flavor - pt3

modern!aemond x fem!dealer!reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Aemond and you have been talking nonstop and he makes the trip to come visit you. By the end of his visit you two are closer than he ever thought possible. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, smoking, drugs(weed), face riding, fingering, spanking, oral(f+m), p in v, unprotected

Authors Note: idk when i’m ever gonna get over this man and it’s a touch concerning ! n e ways this is cute and filthy again x

Word Count: 5.6k

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The semester is still a couple weeks out and Aemond has never been more excited for exams so he can go home and see you again. He texts you when he has any moment of spare time and everytime he sees the three little dots his heart races. On late nights when his roommate is out he FaceTimes you for hours and listens to you whine that he’s not next to you. 

“And you say I’m the one who pouts.” Aemond chuckles as you groan and roll over on your bed. 

“Shut up, almond.” you glare at the screen filled with his face. “I think you should come visit me.” you mumble and he grins. 

“Why?” he smirks and you scoff. 

“Do you need an excuse to come see me? You’re the one who begged me last time.” you purse your lips and he relaxes back into his bed. 

“Mm, I think I’d like to hear you beg for me.” he watches your cheeks flush. 

“I’m sure you would.” your voice doesn’t hold the steadiness you’d like it to. 

“I’ll wait.” he chews on his lip with a smile. 

“Aemond,” he hums at you saying his actual name for once. “Please Aem,” you push your bottom lip out. His heart races as your tone “You don’t even have to stay the whole weekend. I just want you to make me come and smoke with me.” you bat your eyelashes at him. “Please,” you whine and he groans and he’s already mentally packing his bag. 

“What will I get out of it?” he raises his brow, enjoying that he’s teasing you for once. 

“Anything.” the word spills from your mouth quickly. “Kisses, head, you can keep me in bed the whole time if you want.” his eyes darken watching you get worked up. “I won’t call you almond all weekend.” he throws his head back and laughs. 

“I don’t believe that for one second.” he purses his lips. 

“Are you coming or not?” you pout. 

“Ask me nicely one more time.” he watches as you move from the bed and prop the phone up and you get on your knees putting your hands in front of you. His breath catches watching you stare at him from the ground. 

“Aemond please,” your whine has his cock starting to harden. “Please come take care of me. I want your- 

“Hey Aemond.” his roommate walks into the room and Aemond turns the volume down. 

“Let me call you later.” he looks down at the phone with flushed cheeks.

“Wait wait, is that your little girlfriend?” Aemonds eyes widen at his words and is about to hang up the phone. 

“You can properly say goodbye to me. Do not hang up on me.” you purse your lips as he looks down at the screen and back to his roommate.

“That weed you gave me was some of the best shit I’ve had. I don’t mind being displaced if you leave more baggies.” he chuckles before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door with a snap. 

“You told him I’m your girlfriend?” you smile nibbling your lip. He groans, throwing his head back. 

“No, I,” he shakes his head. “I just,” his brows scrunch not knowing what to say and he feels his face heat. 

“Oh baby almond.” you coo much to his horror. 

“You said you wouldn’t call me almond.” he whines and you chuckle. 

“Then come make me stop.” you challenge. “Almond.” you watch his nostrils flare and you giggle. 

“I’ll pack a bag and be on my way within the hour.” he gets up and grabs an empty bag. 

“What about your Friday class?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“I haven’t used any of my absences yet, I’ll be good. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” you nod quickly with a smile. 

“Okay. Drive safe, almond.” he rolls his eyes and hangs up the call. 

Aemond tosses his phone to the end of his bed and gets up throwing clothes into the bag. He goes to the fridge and grabs some of your soda to bring to you. His roommate comes out of the bathroom and looks at him packing his bag. 

“You good?” he falls back onto his bed. 

“I’m gonna be gone for the weekend.” Aemonds tone slightly clipped, remembering his words of his ‘little girlfriend’.

“Can you pick up for me from your girl? I can send you money.” Aemond sighs and nods his head zipping up his bag. 

“Yeah just send me the money and I’ll grab it.” he stands and offers him a smile. 

Aemond gets to his car quickly and tosses his bag in and starts it up. He sends you a text and starts his drive. He drums his fingers on the wheel with a ridiculous smile on face. He doesn’t care that it’s the middle of the night and he can’t wait to have you in his arms again. Time flies as he drives and soon he’s back in town. He calls you once he’s five minutes away and you answer with a sleep thick voice. 

“Aem?” you hum and he bites his lip. 

“I’m about to pull up.” he hears the blankets shuffle. 

“I’ll meet you outside.” you mumble and hang up the phone. He pulls into your driveway and sees you open the front door and wait for him on the porch. He grabs his bag and walks up to you and you wrap your arms around him. 

“You look so sleepy.” he hums, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. 

“I am.” you pout up at him and tug him into the house. You shut the door and lock it before pulling him upstairs. He follows you into your room and you grab his bag and toss it to the floor. 

“Get back into bed. I’ll be there soon.” he scoots you to your bed and starts to kick off his shoes. You watch him from under the blankets as he pulls his shirt off and pushes down his pants. You lift the blankets and he crawls into bed next to you and you curl against him and his arms wrap around you.

“I missed you.” you mumble and his arms tighten. 

“I missed you too.” he presses his lips to the top of your head. He looks down at you and sees your eyes shut and smiles as he closes his holding you closer. 

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Aemond stretches out as he feels a soft tickling at his neck. He smiles and wraps his arms around your waist as you start to kiss at his neck with more fervor. His hands slip under your shirt as you kiss up his jaw. You press your lips to his and squeak as his hands travel down and squeeze your ass. His hands trail between your thighs, smiling that you're bare and he starts to pull you up his body. 

“Aem,” you giggle as he keeps scooting you up. “What are you doing?” you bat at his hands. 

“Trying to get you to sit on my face.” he smirks as you flush on his chest. He rubs circles into your thighs trying to coax you a little higher. His fingers slip under your thighs and lift you quickly and you gasp as he sets you on his mouth. “Just like this.” he kisses each of your thighs before pressing his lips against your bud. 

His hands travel under your shirt and travel up to your breasts and begin to tweak your nipples. His tongue softly licks at you and you whimper softly above him. His lips encase your bud and you tremble holding onto his arms under your shirt. Your hips start to softly rock against his mouth and he starts lapping at you faster. 

“Please yes,” your pleas are breathy and he pinches your nipples and you mewl above him. His hands sliding down to your hips and he starts to grind you against his mouth. He watches your stomach flex and tighten and his tongue flicks even faster. He hears your quick gasps and pulls you closer against his mouth. “Aemond,” your nails dig into his arms as you come across his face. He lifts you off of his face and takes in your flushed face. 

You lean down and smash your lips to his. You kiss him desperately holding him tightly as he rolls over to hover above you. He can feel the absolute need pouring off of you as you whine into his mouth. He lifts up and chuckles as you pull him back down against you. He goes to lift up again and you wrap your legs around him holding him tightly. “Please,” you whine arching up into him. 

“Gods you’re so needy today.” he chuckles watching you squirm beneath him. He laughs as a pout forms on your face and he kisses it away. You sigh, burying your fingers in his hair. “What do you wanna do today?” he hums against your lips. 

“You.” you reach up and press your lips to his. 

“I was thinking I could take you out somewhere.” he pulls back and looks down at you. 

“Almond, are you trying to take me on a date?” you smirk up at him and watch his cheeks flush. 

“You said you wouldn’t call me that all weekend.” he purses his lips as you continue to giggle. “Get up and get dressed.” he untangles from you and watches you pout in the pile of blankets. 

“Where are you dragging me?” you throw your shirt at him and he turns to you with dark eyes. 

“I want to surprise my little girlfriend and take her somewhere. So get up and get dressed.” your breath catches at his tone causing your cheeks to heat. You nod and walk over to your closet grabbing out clothes. He watches you get dressed and smiles to himself that you actually listened and looked flushed. He pulls his pants on and grabs the bag with your soda. “I brought you these.” he hums and you turn to him tilting your head. 

“Almond.” you coo grabbing the bag. He’s had enough of the nickname for the weekend and stalks over to you grabbing your chin making you look up at him. “Hm?” you blink up at him. 

“I’ve had enough of you calling me almond.” he glares at you as you smirk. “I mean it.” he flares his nostrils. 

“Mm do you almond?” he dips his head down to yours. 

“If you say it again I won’t let you come for the rest of the weekend.” he watches your eyes widen in shock. 

“That’s no way to treat your ‘little girlfriend’.” you purse your lips squinting your eyes at him. 

“It's no way to treat your boyfriend calling him ‘baby almond’.” he waits for your response as he watches your cheeks flush. 

“If you wanna date me you need to ask me out.” you tilt your chin up higher. 

“If you wanna date me you need to stop calling me baby almond.” he raises his eyebrow to you. 

“So is little almond okay? Or what about my little almond joy?” he exhales deeply looking up at the ceiling. 

“Your little almond joy is getting ready to put you over his knees.” you smile getting excited seeing this side of him. “I don’t want to hear anything else. Finish getting dressed so I can take you on a date.” he purses his lips as he grabs his bag to find a shirt. 

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Aemond stares at you from across the table unbelieving that he’s in a staring contest with you at a cafe. You rest your head in your hands and stare at him unblinking and he mirrors your movements. The waitress drops off the drinks and you mumble a thanks still staring ahead at Aemond. You know this will make him terribly mad but you have no plans on losing. You kick his leg under the table and he blinks at you, baffled as you start to giggle. 

“You lose.” you say triumphant before grabbing your glass and sipping your coffee. 

“You cheated.” he shakes his head, grabbing his drink. 

“The only rule you said was no blinking. Don’t be such a sore loser, little almond.” he chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Baby brother?” Gods that’s a voice he wasn’t expecting to hear. He watches your face soften as Helaena approaches your table. “What are you two doing?” she nibbles her lip with a knowing smile. 

“He begged to take me on a date.” you look up at his sister with a grin. “How could I say no to sweet baby almond?” you slide your eyes to Aemond and see him clench his jaw. 

“Moms gonna be mad you didn’t tell her you’re in town.” Helaena looks at him and he groans. 

“Don’t tell her.” he looks up at her with pleading eyes. 

“I won’t if you tell me how long this has been going on.” she gestures between us, chewing her lip to hide her smile. 

“A couple weeks. He’s terribly obsessed with me.” his eyes snap to you as you joke with his sister. 

“How could he not be?” she laughs. “Don’t fuck this up.” Helaena hisses at Aemond. “Okay well enjoy and I’ll text you somewhere nice to take her.” she tosses over her shoulder as she makes her way up to the counter to order her drink. 

“What did I say about ‘baby almond’?” he watches you try and fail to stifle your laughter. 

“I mean technically I said ‘sweet baby almond’.” he starts to tap his rings against the glass as he stares at you. You recline back into your chair as you look at him pouting.

“Aemond if you want to woo her you need to speak and not just stare at her like that.” Helaena approaches our table once more. He slides his eyes up to her, pursing his lips. 

“Everytime I try to talk to her she teases me.” he offers me a pointed look and Helaena and I giggle at the same time. 

“That means she likes you, loser.” Helaena whispers in his ear and pats his back. “Ugh you two are cute.” she sticks her finger in her mouth jokingly before she leaves the cafe. His phone dings and he pulls it out looking at what Helaena’s suggestion is. 

helaena: *sent directions* 

Aemond clicks it and groans at her stupidity. You  snatch the phone from him and bark out a laugh and he takes his phone back with red cheeks. You pull out your phone to message Helaena. 

you: Gods you should see him blushing at ‘Poundtown’ i literally have tears in my eyes buuut tmi? we’ve already been there 🫣🤭 

hel: i figured 😭 he was far too happy when he came back from picking up from you 🙄 

You look up and see Aemond frowning at you with red cheeks. He doesn’t want you to see him as just Helaena’s little brother that you occasionally fuck. You put your phone back in your pocket and reach for his hand across the table. He places his hand in yours and you wrap your other hand around it too. 

“I’m sorry.” you say softly and he scrunches his brows. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” he shakes his head feeling embarrassed for showing his feelings on his face so openly. 

“I am enjoying my time with you today.” his eyes search yours. “As much as I love you between my thighs, it’s nice to go out.” your words are so soft and the way you’re holding his hands has his heart beating faster.

“Any amount of time you spend with me I enjoy. No matter what we do.” its your turn to flush at his words.

“Careful baby almond. Your massive crush is showing.” he rolls his eyes, squeezing your hands tightly.

“You think you’re hiding yours any better?” he raises a brow. “You were the one begging last night and whining about how much you missed me.” he loves watching your cheeks redden at his words.

“You’re the one who drove to me in the middle of the night.” you watch his smile grow.

“You still haven’t thanked me. I come all the way down here just to hold you and make you come and what do I get? Relentless teasing.” you chew the inside of your cheek as you chuckle.

“Thank you for always being so desperate to get between my thighs.” you watch him flare his nostrils.

“Gods you’re being a brat today.” he shakes his head at you. 

“I am not.” you glare at him across the table.

“Oh, but you are.” he smiles watching your cheeks flush. You huff and rise from the table and start towards the door, smiling as you hear his chair scrape on the ground. You push open the door and start to walk down the sidewalk until he pulls you back against him. You look up at him with that pout that drives him crazy and he buries his fingers in your hair tilting your head up for him. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you today. He’s ready to pull you down an alley and take you against the bricks. 

“I thought I was getting my sweet baby almond today, not pouting Aemond.” he watches your lips turn up and he tilts your head further up. 

“Yet all you’ve done today is tease me.” you bite your lip at his tone. 

“No.” you try to shake your head but his fingers won’t give. You look up at him waiting for him to do something. You want to see if that authoritative tone earlier was just a show or if he would back it up. You figured teasing him relentlessly was the best route, you’ll either be on your knees apologizing with your mouth or over his knees like he said. “Baby almond.” you coo.

“Let’s go.” his hand leaves your hair and wraps around your wrist pulling you. You pull him back and he turns with a glare. “Walk to the car or I’ll drag you.” his voice low. 

“I don’t believe you.” you purse your lips and he chuckles. His grip tightens and he starts to pull you to the car. You see his jaw flex as he starts to pull you faster. He pulls the door open for you and looks at you expectantly. 

“Get in the car.” you take your seat and he has the door clicked shut a second later. 

“Where are you taking me now, almond?” you turn to him with a smile. 

“Home.” his tone excites you. 

“Why?” you whine and he slides his eyes to you turning on the car. 

He shakes his head and pulls the car onto the road. You take his hand and he can’t stop the small smile on his face as you twist his rings. A low groan comes from his lips as you take one of his fingers into your mouth. You brush your tongue against the digit and Aemonds breathing deepens. He pulls his finger from your mouth and pats his hand on your thigh leaving it there. The rest of the ride is silent building promises of what’s to come. 

“Is anyone home?” he turns to you when he pulls in the driveway. 

You shake your head and he gets out of the car and is pulling you out of your side quickly. You unlock the door and he ushers you inside and is dragging you up the stairs. Once in your room he tugs you over the bed and your heart races in anticipation. He sits down and looks up at you with a smirk. 

“Take off your clothes.” your breath catches at his words. He nods at you, raising an eyebrow. You slowly peel off each layer and he leans back and watches you. He can not wait to absolutely ruin you once you're in his arms. He holds his hand out for you to come to him and you slowly walk to stand in front of him. “Gods look at you.” he hums, sliding his hands from your waist down to your hips. He brings one of his hands down hard on your ass and watches you bite your lip and scoot closer to him. He repeats the action with his other hand and you let out a small whimper. 

“Please,” his eyes darken and he guides you over his knees. You squeeze your legs shut and he chuckles trailing a finger up your slit. He smiles as his finger slides through your dripping center while you squirm beneath him. His other hand comes down on your cheek as he slips his finger into your core. “Aemond,” you whine as he starts to pump his finger. 

“Hm?” he brings his hand down again on your cheek as he slips a second finger in. He watches your legs curl up as he starts to slam his fingers into you. He spanks each of your cheeks again and the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard fall from your lips. Aemond listens to the sounds you make to be sure you’re still enjoying yourself even though he can feel your squeezing his fingers tightly. The sounds of your pleas and wetness cause his cock to throb and he pulls his fingers out needing to have you right now. 

“No, please,” you grab for his arm and he chuckles at your desperation. “I’ll be good.” you whine and he groans at your words before lifting you up. 

“I know you will.” he pushes you onto the bed and you lift your ass into the air for him. 

He pulls his clothes off and he watches you spread your legs wider for him. He brings your hips to him and he swirls his tip around your wetness. He pushes in slowly clenching his teeth at the feel of you wrapping around him. You grip the sheets as he starts to snap his hips into yours. When his hand lands on your cheek you fall apart around him moaning loudly. 

“Fuck.” Aemonds fingers dig into your hips continuing to push into you. 

His pleasure builds at your small whimpers and gasps that fill the room along with the sounds of your wetness. You push your hips back into his and he lands his hands onto your ass again. His hips falter as you pulse around him whining his name. His fingers dig into you as his high washes through him. He collapses on the bed next to you and you move to lay against his chest. 

“So you’re done pouting now?” your taunt comes out breathy. He flips you over and you look up at him nibbling your lip as he hovers above you with dark eyes. 

“You’re not done with your attitude.” you squeak when his fingers slip back into you. When his thumb swipes across your bud you tremble. You arch up into him and he chuckles leaning down above your lips. You reach up and he pulls his head back watching you pout. He curls his fingers watching your face scrunch with pleasure the faster he moves.

“Aemond, please,” you gasp, holding onto his arm. “Please,” the word goes straight to his cock once more. He chuckles as your pleasure coats his fingers and pours out of you while you cling against him. He pulls his fingers out and slams into you and your breath catches in your throat. “Yes, Aem,” your eyes roll back as he hammers into you. 

“Fucking perfect.” he grunts and you claw into his back when his fingers circle your sensitive bud. A loud cry falls from your lips as your pleasure explodes through you. Your toes curl as he slams into you while spilling his pleasure into you. He rests his forehead on yours as you both pant. “Anything more to say?” you shake your head clinging against him. 

“Please,” you pull him down to your lips. He slowly presses his lips to yours and when his tongue slips into your mouth you sigh. He rolls you both over and has you rest against his chest as his fingers caress your skin. You whimper into his mouth at his soft touch and he kisses down your neck. 

“I’m gonna take you dinner tomorrow. You’ll be nice and you won’t call me almond.” he sucks softly on your neck and you nod holding onto him tightly.

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Today Aemond has seen how much you’ll allow him to get away with. Everytime you nod your head at a suggestion his heart races. You didn’t even protest when he picked out your shortest, flirest dress for you to wear. You simply smiled and paired it with long socks that made his eyes darken. Not even when he pushed his fingers into your panties on the way to the restaurant, you just put them in your mouth after you came all over them. 

“Fuck your like a perfect little doll today.” he groans watching you clean his fingers as you both sit parked outside of the restaurant. 

“After the way you fucked me yesterday you can have anything, Aem.” you bat your lashes at him and he groans. He gets out of the car and goes to your door and offers you his hand. He leads you into the dim restaurant and you lean against him as you wait to be led to the table. 

“Are your cheeks still sore?” he dips down and whispers in your ear. 

You gasp as his hand squeezes against your ass before wrapping around your waist. You look up at him with pleading eyes and he leans down to press his lips to yours. He chuckles at your pout as he pulls back. You’re both led to a table and he pulls out your chair for you. He sits across from you and you smile looking at his relaxed features. 

“You are so handsome, Aemond.” you reach your hand out for his. You haven’t called him almond all day and he refuses to admit he misses it the smallest amount. “So cute when you blush.” he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth. “I wish you didn’t have to leave in the morning.” your soft words surprise him. 

“I don’t want to leave either.” he rubs his thumb across your hand. “I’ll be home in a couple weeks.” your frown causes his chest to tighten. 

“I know. I’m just going to miss you.” you don’t care how needy you sound. “I know we’ll call and stuff but,” your frown deepens. 

“I mean there’s no reason we can just switch driving to each other every weekend.” he nibbles on his lip. “It’s not that far. Unless that’s too much and- 

“I would like that.” you nod your head quickly. “A lot.” you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. 

“So you’ll come up next weekend?” he searches your eyes. 

“I’ll be there on Friday when you get out of class.” you squeeze his hand. 

“As my girlfriend?” he knows there’s a flush on his face as he waits for your answer. 

“Or your perfect doll.” you offer him a playful smile. 

“Both?” his eyes darken. 

“I suppose I could do that for my boyfriend.” you watch a smile spread across his face. 

The waitress takes your orders and you spend the next couple of hours in a sweet bliss enjoying each other's company. When you get home you push him back onto your bed and roll at your desk. He watches you walk back to him and he just wants to lay you out in the bed and devour you. 

“Here.” you crawl into bed with him and lean against him. He lights the blunt and passes it to you. Your eyes become lidded as you both smoke and you start to look at him with such intense need. “Finish it.” you hum and slide down his body to settle between his legs. He looks at you with flushed cheeks as you start to unbutton his pants. 

He groans as you wrap your fingers around him and free him from his pants. You suck his tip into his mouth and watch his chest heave. He brings the blunt to his mouth and watches you lower your mouth. He sighs feeling your soft lips wrap around him and he curses as you hollow your cheeks. You look up at him and he groans, putting the blunt in the ashtray. 

“You’re fucking perfect.” Aemond rasps down to you.  You start to bob your head faster and he tosses his head back. His hips jerk and you follow his movements and his fingers tangle in your hair. With the way you’re looking at him his stomach starts to tighten as you bob faster. You bring him to the back of your throat and he groans, pulling your hair as his pleasure flows into your mouth. You hum around him swallowing his pleasure as soft moans fall from his mouth. You slowly pull your mouth off of him watching his face twist with pleasure. 

“Come up here.” you slowly crawl back up the bed and he smashes his lips to yours. He pulls your dress up and rubs his fingers across your soaked panties. “Lay back on the bed.” he smiles against your lips. He pushes the sleeves down your arms and tugs the dress down to expose your chest. His lips attach to one of your nipples and he quickly flicks his tongue across it. He takes the peak between his teeth and chuckles as you squirm beneath him. His other hand is between your thighs teasing you above your panties. 

“Aemond please,” your hips chase his hand. He listens to your soft pleases as he licks across your chest to your other nipple before swirling around it with his tongue. He smiles feeling your panties getting wetter as he teases you. He harshly sucks your peak into his mouth and you whimper above him. He rises and leaves your chest glistening before he slides down your body. He presses his lips against your panties watching your thighs shake beside his head. 

He flicks his tongue against your covered bud and your chest heaves. You grind against his face and he chuckles and slides his tongue down to your core. He pulls back and looks down at you. Your pouted lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed. His eyes slide to your chest and your hardened nipples that he wants to put between his teeth again just so he can hear those soft cries. He then looks at your panties that are soaked just for him. 

“Touch me, please.” his eyes snap up to yours at your plea. “Please, Aem,” you’re begging for him. You, his girlfriend. His head spins and he pulls off your panties. He throws your legs over his shoulders as his mouth attaches to your core. He groans being greeted by your dripping center. “Yes,” you cry arching off the bed. His hands push your dress up more to dig into your waist. You fall apart as his tongue lashes against you. He slowly pulls back watching the pleasure still course through your body. 

He brings his lips to yours and you hold him against you. He pulls back to tug his clothes off and helps you do the same. He lays back into bed and pulls the blankets over you both as you cling to him. He smiles to himself that you didn’t call him almond all day and now you’re officially his girlfriend who’s curled against him. 

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You sit in bed with a frown as you watch Aemond pack his bag. He walks over to you with a shirt and slips it over your head before bending down and pressing his lips to yours. You try to pull him back into bed but he pulls you out of it. You purse your lips walking over to your dresser to grab a pair of sweats. 

“My roommate wants to pick up.” Aemond hums walking over to you. You hand him a couple baggies and he sends you the money. You hand him an extra baggie for himself regardless of his protests. “You don’t have to.” he stuffs them into his bag. 

“I want to, almond.” his head snaps to you and sees your smirk. 

“Don’t start this right as I’m about to leave.” he flares his nostrils as he slings his bag over his shoulder. 

“Start what?” you tilt your head. He shakes his head and your hand slips into his as you lead him downstairs and out to his car. He pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours. 

“I will see you on Friday.” he murmurs against your mouth. 

“Please drive safe and text me when you get there.” you press your lips to his once more. He gets in his car and you watch him as he backs out of the driveway. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

me vs saying two more parts again bc i already started pt4 and it won’t be the last chap that’s fs

ur fav flav taglist: @echos-muses @sinistersnakey @uwuuness

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

sorry if this is weird or hyperspecfic but uh....

lates 90s/early 2000s dilf Dave and he has you bent over, back arched arched, ass in the air, face in the bed and is RAMMING into you and like you're supposed to stay quiet and he hears you whine or mumble something and he tanks you by your hair and asks what you said and degrades you and just uhhh yeah

is that too freaky

A/n: never too freaky

Warnings: smut, degradation, rough sex, edging, spanking, angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Whilst trying to find a picture to put here I remembered how fucking hot he is so expect more Davie soon 😘

Dave was having a bad week, every night he came home and had a drink on the couch and watched TV. You tried to help but there wasn’t much that was helping, not even blowjobs.

It was Friday night and Dave came home in an especially bad mood. He didn’t grab a drink or sit in the living room, he went straight to bed and didn’t move.

You let him have some time to himself but you didn’t want to stay away for too long before heading up to see him.

He was laying on his side, eyes open so he wasn’t sleeping. He was just thinking and didn’t look at you as you came into the room.

“Davie?” You started. “Are you alright?” You asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine… just tired.” You didn’t believe him, hell, he didn’t believe it either.

You reached out and started rubbing his side through the sheets. “Is there anything I can do?” Dave inhaled deeply, he was about to send you away but then he got a better idea.

He looked up at you. “I love you, you know that?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, you nodded nonetheless. “Yes, of course, and I love you too.”

He smiled, a small chuckle leaving him. “Good.” He said, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “Don’t forget that, because I need you to do something for me.”

At this point you were willing to do anything if it would make him feel better. You weren’t new to Dave taking out some anger on you, you didn’t mind honestly because at the end he held you close and told you nothing but praise and that he loved you. Besides, you loved when he was rough with you.

He hadn’t let you cum yet, his hand was on your back and keeping it arched, face shoved in the pillows and making it hard to breathe. Your ass was red and stinging from him spanking you, eyes and cheeks a similar shade from crying.

Dave’s hips snapped into yours at a brutal pace, if there was a thrash genre of sex this was definitely it. He fucked you so deep and hard your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, but you refused to make a sound.

“Fuck, you love this don’t you? Love being used you fucking whore, my own little cocksleeve.” He grunted, groaning lowly into the room, the gruff sound of it mixing with skin slapping and the creaking of the bed as it rocked.

You’d been doing so good, not making a single sound, but it was getting harder with every high he ruined for you, pulling out completely or refusing to move. Your clit was neglected and hurt, cunt abused and puffy, you thought the pillows would be enough to hide the whine you couldn’t keep down.

Dave’s hand came to the back of your head, clutching a handful of your hair and yanking you up. “Come again, doll?” He asked, bringing your ear right to his lips.

You hoped keeping quiet would settle this but you just couldn’t do it, another whine leaving you as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Fucking bitch.” He grunted, tightening his hold on your hair as his thrusts somehow quickened. His free hand held your hip, gripping it so tight it was sure to leave bruises the next morning. “Can’t do the one thing I asked of you? Are you that fucking useless?” More whines left you, coming out more as soft sobs. “Answer me!” His hand on your hip came down hard on your ass.

“Yes, I am, m’useless, Davie!” You cried, weakly reaching for the sheets. He scoffed at your admission and threw you down onto the bed, watching you crumble as he continued to spit insults at you, emphasizing his words with more hits to your ass.

All you could do was take it and cry, hope he’d be done soon and let you cum, at the very least just stop. All you could do was wait for your hugs and kisses, for him to hold you and tell you he loved you, that he didn’t mean any of it.

“Can’t do fucking shit! I told you to shut up and you couldn’t even do that!” He yelled. “Worthless cunt, doesn’t deserve shit.” He grunted.

Where was your Davie?

[straylightdream]

getaway car • coming soon

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k and counting

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, lots of emotions

an: this was inspired by the song getaway car by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

PREVIEW

Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.

“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.

“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.

“Yeah.”

Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.

“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.

He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.

“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.

“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”

Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”

“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”

He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.

There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”

He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”

READ THE FULL STORY HERE

[skyrim-forever]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It's Wednesday again, let's see them wips <3 I was tagged by @ladytanithia for a wip whenever yesterday, thank you friend!

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @umbracirrus @changelingsandothernonsense

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @pocket-vvardvark @firefly-factory @hircines-hunter @captain-of-silvenar

I'd like to give a special shoutout to @lillxart who got me thinking more about the fun little emotion that is jealousy and I decided I wanted to tackle it more in-depth than I have before. Also was missing writing from Ondolemar's pov and he's at his best denying his feelings so here's a snippet from before they have confessed <3 Under the cut because somewhat suggestive, mostly angst:

So caught up in his own mental groveling, what she says next is nearly missed. “I would love to know if you find anything interesting about them, I’ll confess I don't know much about the Dwemer. More familiar with the Ayelids, my father had an interest."

“Perfectly understandable, the Dwemer never went as far south as Cyrodiil.” The young wizard pauses before continuing. “I’ve already got some theories, perhaps we could continue this conversation over dinner? If you’d be interested, of course.”

It comes out of him quickly, words staunch and firm, the authoritarian tone hopefully covers up his desperation. It was unlike him to speak without thinking, let whatever fall from his mouth. Careful, calculated, that is how he was taught to speak. More thought should be put into deciding what to reveal than the physical exertion of saying it. Despite all that training, or perhaps in spite of it, the accusation comes out. 

“You.” The single word is so cutting, far more than it needs to be. The anger in voice should not be directed at her, nor Aicantar who knows not of his crime. It should claim its victim in himself  and it would have, if he had not been struck mad at the thought of her having dinner with someone else. A younger Altmer who was doing what his own younger self set out to do, a scholar; a mer who could be with her, unbound by the confines of oaths and duty. “You have been interfering with official business of the Altmeri Dominion and I am taking you for questioning.” 

Unlike his anger, misplaced and sporadic, hers is properly accessed as she glares at him, burring holes through his very being. Ondolemar knew nothing of dragons. The beasts they say she fought bore little concern on his mind. However, as he guides them back to his quarters, few words said to his guards to explain her presence, he wonders how much truth there is in the tales of their wrath. How much truth is found in the title Dragonborn? Was she like a dragon, could her wrath consume him? 

It’s more unnerving as she is silent on their way, nothing but that agonizing stare to confirm she’s there. Slowly, he shuts the door behind them. Enjoying a few seconds of her company without facing the consequences of what has occurred. 

“What was that?” Every word is a brutal strike and every answer he can give is more pathetic than the next. Though this is no time to be blaise, he does so anyway. An attempt can’t hurt. 

“You were late.” He passes her the goblet poured early, a peace offering, as insignificant as it is. It is rejected. 

“I didn’t realize being late for you to fuck me was a crime, delaying your pleasure counted as interfering with official business.” He deserves the mocking tone as she echoes his words. 

“Given what you have told me I thought you may have been held up by the City Guards. Now I see it was something else.”

“That doesn’t explain what you said. Now the next time I speak with Aicantar I’ll have to fabricate some story because you seem to think your position means you can demand anything you want, at any time.” Her words hit him heavily, settling in his stomach like a thick sludge where sustenance should be. Did she really think that all he was concerned about? Of course she did, he had worked very hard to not let slip any of the borderline romantic thoughts he harboured. Fearful of even thinking of them sober, speaking them aloud would be far too real. 

But she is angry with him and despite their very opposing sides, Ondolemar doesn’t want Theodora angry at him. Their identities as enemies was much better suited for their private activities. Where they still mattered, his position and rank never leaving his mind, but no one to see how he used them to please her. Collecting the right works, he speaks. 

“In the moment I was taken aback when he asked you to dinner and forgot myself.” Her rage quells slightly, what rage leaves is replaced with hurt, her words are layered with pain. 

“Am I not allowed to be asked to dinner?”

“Of course.”

“Then why did you order me away?” He expected her to ask if he was jealous. All the clues point in that direction, it would be easier on him to confirm her conclusion than draw his own. Fearful if he say it he would go even further and inform her that the lack of freedom and autonomy got to him at times. That it did hurt to hear someone else was interested in her and she would not need to hide with him. Taken aback again, this time by her pain and sincerity, he can’t bring himself to tell the truth. 

“I do not know.” It’s a suffocating silence. Distracting himself momentarily, he puts down the rejected peace offering, mentally praying that they will get to share a drink tonight. If she can forgive him for his stupid and barbaric behaviour as well as the fact he cannot provide her an explanation, unable to admit some things to himself. 

“If I saw you with another woman, asking her to dinner or kissing her or even fucking her, I wouldn’t say anything. It’s not my place to.”

There was he wants say. An fruitless endeavour but one nonetheless.

[yelenasdiary]

Hello…I didn’t expect to make this request, but I didn’t know who else to turn to, and you’re the most active writer I’ve followed for so long that is still around. (And I’m happy for that, sincerely)

Well, before I request something, let me explain why. I…I’m saying goodbye. (Not that way, don’t worry) I’m saying goodbye…to the fandom…specifically, to reading Natasha x reader fics. I tried for a while to hope for fics where Reader was more of the knight in shining armor, masc presenting woman, or the top in the relationship, but…well, that didn’t happen much. And I’m not bashing on anyone for writing reader as more of the opposite. Not at all, everyone is entitled to write how they want to write….but I can’t just keep coming here and continue to see it be the same troupe. And no matter how much I request for one (and when requests are asked and open) it never happens, and instead it’s something else I didn’t request. So…I think it’s best for me to bid farewell. I cant force writers to write what I want, that’s not how it works. It’s a dick move

Here’s what I want to ask…for my final Natasha x reader fic request:

Reader is a soldier for the United States Air Force. Natasha has been busy as an Avenger. Reader, on leave, tried to spend time with Natasha but was always met with rain checks. On top of that, Natasha has always treated reader as the frail, need to protect, girlfriend, and reader always made it clear she wasn’t much for the pillow process type.

Anyways, reader decides to re-enlist for another deployment and begin a new life, maybe somewhere in Germany I don’t know. But, as she’s packing to leave is when Natasha FINALLY decides to give her the time of day….but it’s too late.

Reader sits Natasha down and says along the lines this, “I’m not the person you want…and we’ve just become different people and are pursuing different things….” She’d go on about how as much as she loves Natasha, she can’t be the partner she expects of her. She’s tired of being made out to be this woman that’s made to be the trophy wife or something like that. That she should find someone who can connect and click with her. Be her true soulmate.

Natasha is heartbroken and wants to fix things. Not expecting this at all. Pleading for a second chance but reader stands her ground. No tears shed, but she’s not cold to her either. Reader leaves, Natasha follows her all the way to the airport, tries one last time but reader doesn’t give in….she bids the redhead farewell…and thanks her for the memories that were amazing. She wishes nothing but happiness for her and a happy life.

…that’s it. Write it, toss it away, it’s fine. I’m just going to leave this here, do with it what you want.

Thanks for the fics you made, specifically the ones where you portrayed reader as the knight in shining armor.

Signing off.

A Final Goodbye

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Masc! Reader

Summary: You take a step back and do what is best for you, and Natasha. 

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this in, I am sorry to hear that you’re leave and I do hope that you’re still around to read this. I do apologise for it taking me a while to get it out, I also just want to say that I do not consider myself a masc lesbian so I do apologise in advance if anything in this is not giving that representation. Rest assured, this is Reader being the lead in this. I hope you enjoy x

You took a deep breath as you zipped up the last duffel bag, feeling the weight of your decision settle across your shoulders. Your small apartment almost empty, leaving most of your belongings in storage. Carefully, you placed the duffle bag with the others before taking a moment to gather your thoughts. 

It had been playing on your mind for a while now, keeping you up at night while you tossed and turned endlessly, wishing things were different but too much had changed over time. You tried to spend time with her, but you only met with rain checks or last-minute cancellations. You missed her but you couldn’t stop thinking about the drift between you two. 

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman you fell for. At first, things were great, you both were on the same page and were very much in the ‘honeymoon’ phase almost every day but like all couples, there were things that you would argue about and there were plenty of things that made you both frustrated. One thing you couldn’t understand was why Nat would consistently treat you like a frail and need to be protected girlfriend. As much as you loved that she cared for you, you hated being treated like a pillow princess. It wasn’t you. 

You didn’t need saving; you didn’t need protecting. You needed somebody who understood you and loved you for you. You always made it clear to Natasha that the pillow princess type wasn’t you at all, you always reminded her that you didn’t need her to protect you from every little thing, after all, you were a soldier. But something about being firm with her just didn’t stick. So, you made the decision to re-enlist for another deployment, making sure that the next time you returned, things would be different. Not just for you but for Natasha as well. 

Natasha knocked softly on the door; it was time. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, meeting her soft green eyes for the first time in weeks. Her famous red locks still damp from the rain outside, her expression a mix of relief and uncertainty. 

“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled on your lips, “Hey, I’m glad you could come” you replied, opening the door wider for her. 

 “I’m so glad you’re still here. I… I thought you might be gone already.” She said softly, her eyes darting to the small pile of duffle bags. 

“I leave tomorrow” you replied, watching as Nat turned around to face you once more. “Can we talk, please?” She asked, her gaze locked onto you. “I want to give you time to talk but I really need you to listen to me first” you said as you gestured that the two of you take a seat. Natasha let out a soft sigh, deep down she knew she wasn’t leaving your apartment the same woman she came as. 

The two of you took a seat at the dining table, the cold surface somehow bringing a little comfort to you in this moment as you gently reached for Natasha’s hand. You looked into her eyes for a moment, taking in the beauty she held. 

“I love you so much, I always will but I need to honest with you, with us. This isn’t so much about the fact our schedules suck and the rain check are rain check. This is about us and how I’m not the person you want” you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in before continuing. “We’ve become different people. We’re pursuing different things and different dreams. I can’t be the partner you expect of me. I’m tired of you only seeing me as this fragile person who needs to protect. I’m a soldier, I’m in the air force. I can hold my own and I want to be respected for that” you added. 

“Detka, I do respect you. You’re everything to me, I don’t mean to make you feel like that….I just, I care about you so, so much but I can’t deal with the thought if something were to happen to you” Natasha pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes.

You smiled softly, trying to keep your own tears from building up, “I know you respect me Nat, but, when you’re around others, you’re not the same. We go from being one to two different people and somehow, you think I’m the one who needs to protected and treated differently….” You paused for a moment, your thumb stroking her soft skin. “We both know that love is such a big, beautiful and powerful thing. It means a lot of things and one of those things is knowing when to let go. You deserve somebody who can give you everything you want, but we know deep down it’s not me” you added. 

A silence fell between you both, Natasha’s face falling, her defenses crumbling as you continued. “I want you to find happiness, even if that means without me. You deserve it.”

“But… what if we can work it out? I can be better, I promise” Natasha said, pleading, her voice breaking as her tears began to fall freely down her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry Nat, but it’s too late. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too”

Natasha’s expression shifted from desperation to heartbreak as she nodded at your words. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, she stood up. “I don’t want to hold you back” she said softly, barely able to look into your eyes. You stood up from your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat as she reached out to hug you one last time. 

“Please be safe” she whispered, “and write to me whenever you’re ready” she added, hugging you tightly. You hugged her back, allowing yourself to feel the love she has for you one last time, hugging her just as tightly back. “I promise” you replied in the same soft whisper. 

As you two parted, you smiled softly at her, hoping it would somehow ease her broken heart a little. “I know this wasn’t what you expected but I want you to know that all the memories we share and the time we had, it was beautiful, and I will forever cherish them. I want nothing but love and happiness for you, don’t hold yourself back from find another love. Be happy Nat, you deserve that” you said.

To your surprise the redhead returned a soft smile, “I will always love you” she spoke ever so gently. 

“And I will always love you” you replied. 

Natasha turned, and headed for the door. You watched her leave, closing the door gently behind her, taking with her a piece of your heart. You took a moment for yourself, part of you broken from the words shared but the other half excited knowing a new chapter awaited. The memories of Natasha would always be with you, reminding you that love can be found again.

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[gothamite-rambler]

Barbara finds out Dick and Kori are back together

Context (there's a lot): Hey, this is my take on a ship fic about Dick and Kori, which I've always seen as my OTP. I love exploring how romance is perceived on Kori's planet, and when written well, I find it aligns with our view of monogamous dating. I mean no hate toward Babs/Dick shippers; I do get it and the current comic runs have done exceptionally well at writing them as a couple ... but Dick and Kori are my favorite couple they have my heart. This is connected to my Batfamiy flash fiction series.

This is if Barbara found out they were back together, with Dick and Barbara having more of a sibling-like after trying dating out, it didn't work so their friends. I promise this isn't sending hate to their ship, plus it's all fun tbh. I hope you enjoy it!

Barbara knocked on the door of Dick Grayson’s apartment, her fingers tapping a rhythm on the armrest of her wheelchair as she waited. Dick hadn't told her why he wanted to go out to lunch with her, but he said he has a big surprise for her.

Barbara (in her head): He's been acting odd lately and I know he's lying about taking a dance class. He dances alone, not with a group.

Barbara chuckles at that thought as she kept waiting for someone to answer the door. She knocked again.

Barbara (in her head): Oh God, I hope he doesn't want to try dating me again. I get it, I'm exceptional, but I can't date him again. At this point, he's like my twin brother which leagues better than my actual brother. And is he going to answer the damn door?!

She knocked a third time, this one with more force to sound louder and get Dick's attention to open the door. The door did open, but she was greeted by Kori wearing a silk bathrobe. A dark orange blush quickly colored her cheeks as her eyes widened.

Barbara (surprised): Starfire?

Kori (yelping, gripping her robe): Nope, not her!

She quickly slammed the door shut and unseeable to Barbara, she ran to the bathroom as Dick left the shower.

Kori (embarrassed): She saw me in a robe! Dang it!

Dick sighed, placing a hand over his eyes.

Outside, Barbara’s mind raced as she processed the unexpected sight.

Barbara (to herself): I didn’t take any loony pills, right? That was definitely only a robe! Are they back together? Oh my God, they got back together. That's fantastic- I should probably stop talking to myself and knock on the door again.

She knocked once more, this time with urgency. The door opened to reveal Dick, a bath towel wrapped precariously around his waist, held with one hand.

Dick: You probably have a lot of questions—

Barbara (loudly): You guys are back together?!

Dick (sighing, nodding): Yeah. I was going to tell you today when we went to Chili’s, but you decided to drop by early.

Barbara (laughing as she wheeled past him into the apartment): I got here five minutes early! But I didn’t expect you two to reconnect—especially like this. How long have you been hiding it?

Dick: Two months and three days. Nobody knows, except for you. You’re not mad, are you?

Barbara (turning to face him, raising an eyebrow): At what? That you're dating her again? Maybe five years ago, I would have been. But after dating you and—let's just say—being disappointed—

Dick: Okay, you don’t have to insult our sex! I was nervous back then!

Barbara (rolling her eyes): Fair enough. Honestly, I’m happy. Now the rumors about us can end. I really don’t need people gossiping that we’re back together.

Dick (cocky): Because you’re worried people will wonder how you scored a treasure like me?

Barbara (sarcastically): Whatever you want to believe, Dick. And by the way, keep the towel around your waist; I don’t want to go blind seeing that again.

Dick rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his dignity.

Dick: I’m glad you’re not jealous anymore. At this point, we’re friends, and I don’t want to deal with relationship drama.

Barbara (nodding): Now we’re on the same page. Not going to lie, though, I’m surprised she took you back. Where’d the blushing Starfire go, anyway? I thought she’d be worried I’d snap seeing her again, but I want to chat.

As Barbara wheeled around the apartment, Dick considered her comment.

Dick: What do you mean you’re surprised she took me back?

Barbara (over her shoulder): I’ve known you long enough, Dickie-bird. You know exactly what I mean.

Dick (smirking): You’re one to talk. You hacked my text messages when you thought I was dating someone else—or the time you thought I was dating my rapist when she was actually a crazy stalker.

Barbara (genuinely): I am sorry for being like that, although you definitely were texting that first girl.

Dick: She was my yoga teacher!

Barbara shrugged, acknowledging her past assumptions during their brief stint of dating.

Barbara: You were the jealous type, annoyingly overprotective... and, let’s just say, you weren’t exactly gifted in the bedroom.

Dick crossed his arms, trying to ignore Barbara’s jabs, even though he was tempted to respond.

Barbara (calling out): Kori, come on out! I’m not judging you. I’m genuinely happy for you two and hope you can make it work. Dick's been playing the field for years; it’s about time he settles down.

Dick (angry but holding the towel): I’ve said nothing to warrant this onslaught of insults!

Barbara (laughing): I’m just trying to break the ice and simply stating a fact. Kori! As long as you’re not wearing that robe, we can talk now.

There was a heavy sigh, and then Kori emerged from Dick’s bedroom, now wearing a purple top and blue jeans. She offered a small wave and a smile.

Kori: I really didn’t want our meeting to be this awkward. I overheard you two talking, and I’m glad you don’t hate me for getting back with Dick. I really hate that we fought over him in the past.

Barbara nodded, understanding Kori's perspective.

Barbara: Same here. I care about him, but he’s my friend. That’s why I make jokes at his expense.

Dick crossed his arms, scoffing, though his smile betrayed his amusement.

Barbara (continuing): You’re probably going to be the best influence on him. Plus, Dick and I have stayed friends for about seven years. I prefer that dynamic, and he couldn't handle all this.

Kori pondered that for a second and then nodded in agreement.

Kori: It's tough for me, especially matching his... freak, as they call it.

Barbara stifled a laugh, covering her mouth.

Barbara: Yeah, Richard's freak has definitely been discussed in the hero circle. I’ve never done it, but I’ve heard he does the crouching tiger well.

Kori (with a playful grin): I'm on top during—

Dick (blushing, from the next room): Could you not?! I'm getting changed; don’t mock me while I’m gone!

Dick wandered off to his room, avoiding eye contact with Barbara, who was clearly entertained by the entire conversation.

Kori (giggling): Looks like we've managed to ruffle his feathers.

Barbara: I’ve got a talent for that. The point is, Kori, we’ve had our issues, but I’m on board with this new dynamic. Seriously, I'm not mad or jealous. I’m... happy for both of you.

Barbara smiled and gave Kori a sincere nod.

Barbara: I don’t want to push this, but I could really use more girlfriends besides Batgirls, Supergirls, and Harley.

Kori nodded thoughtfully, her expression brightening.

Kori: Plus, our blossoming friendship could lead to some surprising reactions that will definitely make us laugh.

Barbara rolled closer, extending her hand.

Barbara: Now you’re talking. Kori, this is the start of something great.

Kori (jokingly): Or a “colleagueship”?

They shook hands.

Kori: Would you like a snack? We could play a card game while we wait for Dick.

Barbara (enthusiastic): Oh my goodness, you’re already winning me over. I’ll be in the living room. And Kori, keeping an eye on Dick is probably a good idea—he can be weird at times.

Dick (from the other room): Oh my God, I’m not even in the room!

Laughter filled the air as Kori and Barbara shared a light moment, the tension melting away with each chuckle. By the time Dick emerged from his room, a sense of camaraderie settled in, carrying the promise of new beginnings.

A Smoothie and a Second Chance

[srovtl]

(in here, a magic that connects hearts) Faust SSR Card Story Translation

Translator note: This, and all the fifth anniversary card stories, reference each character’s affection story (which can be read here) and I recommend reading them beforehand.

also thanks for Sra and nor from twitter for providing me with the raws

Don't go easy, but let your heart be at ease - Episode 1

Akira: (Faust wasn't in his room. Is he out somewhere?)

It's been a while since I started living at the magic manor.

I was going around asking everyone for interviews again, hoping to add to the contents of the sage's manual.

Faust: Sage. We're back.

Figaro: Hello, sage.

Akira: Welcome back. So both of you were out?

Figaro: Yeah, we went to a store I'm familiar with.

Akira: There are all kinds of flowers in this basket. They're beautiful.

Faust: They're all rare varieties. I'm planning to use them in the next class.

Faust: For example, this blue bud is for Shino. It's a flower that is sensitive to people's gazes, and if you stare at it for five minutes, the bud will open.

Figaro: But if you look away for even a second, it won't bloom, even if you wait five minutes. It's perfect for training your patience.

Figaro: The blue flower next to it was for Heathcliff, right? It scatters pollen irregularly and makes you sleepy.

Faust: The more sensitive you are, the more sleepy you will be. I hope this will help him practice using magic to defend himself instantly.

Akira: Wow, they were chosen to suit each individual's personality. Interesting.

Akira: Then, is this bushy grass that looks like a cat toy for Nero?

Faust: Yes. We talked about this plant in detail in the last lesson. This is to make sure he actually reviewed it.

Figaro: It's like a surprise test. I'm looking forward to seeing Nero's reaction.

Faust: I wonder. He's not the type to review things frequently, but he has a good memory.

Faust: Well, if he can't do it, Heath will probably help him.

Akira: ……Huh? Now that I look closely, there's another purple flower. Who did you prepare this for?

Faust, Figaro: ………

Faust: .....It's for me.

Figaro: The student is our Faust, and the special lecturer is me, Doctor Figaro.

Akira: What! Figaro and Faust are teaching together?

Faust: You don't need to be so surprised.

Figaro: Teachers need to work hard together too. Or we might get overtaken by the younger kids in no time.

Blinking rapidly, I looked at the two people before me.

Akira: (...I cant believe a day like this would come. I never imagined it when I came to the magic manor.)

Days living under the same roof. Days working on the same missions.

All those experiences must have changed something in them, little by little. Now I can feel that with my very eyes, and my cheeks relax.

Faust: What is it, sage? It seems like you have something to say.

Akira: No, it's nothing! …Wait, I completely forgot that I had something to ask of you Faust.

Faust: Me?

Akira: Yes. Actually, I'd like to write about you all again in the Sage's manual.

Figaro: The sage's re-interviewing each of us. I had a talk with them the other day.

Akira: So, would you mind giving me some of your time soon, Faust?

Faust: If that's the case, I'm free after this. If you'd like, we can talk in my room.

Don't go easy, but let your heart be at ease - Episode 2

We immediately headed to Faust's room, and found Lennox standing at the door.

Lennox: Lord Faust, sage. Hello.

Faust: What's the matter, Lennox? Do you need something?

Lennox: Lord Faust, I wanted to give this to you.

Faust: A candle...

Faust: I was just about to buy another candle for my amulet, since I was running low on it.

Akira: Really? What a coincidence.

Faust: Lennox, why did you give this to me? 

Lennox: I thought it was about time you would need one.

Lennox: I accompanied you when you went to buy the same thing before, didn't I? It's been some time since then so…

Lennox: Besides, you've been busy lately, Lord Faust, so I thought you might not have time to go and buy it yourself...

Akira: Is that so...? As expected of Lennox, you really pay attention to the people around you.

Lennox: No, it's not that serious.

Faust: ……..

Faust stared at Lennox for a while with his violet eyes.

Then he takes a faint breath, lowers his eyebrows and smiles.

Faust: Really… I just can't hide anything from you.

The voice he speaks is endlessly soft, and gives the impression of a definite passage of time.

His gaze, shifted to the candle, is still gentle. Surely memories of the past are shining deep in those violet eyes.

Faust: There's no need for you to go that far.

Lennox: I'm sorry for doing something unnecessary.

Faust: I don't mean it like that…..

Faust: Hmm? Haven't we had this conversation before?

Lennox: I think we did...?

Faust: ...Haha. Anyway, you helped me out. Thank you, Leno.

Lennox: No. If I was of help to you, nothing makes me happier.

Their mutual consideration, their trust and respect for each other were all indicative of their attitude. It naturally warmed my heart.

Akira: (Faust and Lennox have helped each other out so many times like this.)

Akira: (I'm sure it will continue to be the same from now on���)

Don't go easy, but let your heart be at ease - Episode 3

When I entered the room, Faust put the paper bag he was carrying on the desk and waved his finger.

A chair floated through the air and was presented in front of me.

Faust: Sit down. I'll make some tea now.

Akira: Thank you! Hm? Is this the same tea from our last interview?

Faust: Yes, it is. You have a good memory. Now then…

Faust handed me the cup and sat down opposite me.

Faust: You can start right away. Where should I start?

His fingers were clasped together just like that time.

It showed his seriousness, and I thought it was a beautiful, elegant sight.

Akira: May I ask you about all sorts of things that have happened since we met?

Akira: If there is anything hard to say you don't have to—-

Faust: ……..

Faust's eyebrows twitch, and I involuntarily gasp.

Then I straighten my back and reword what I had said earlier.

Akira: ...I might be asking some questions that are hard to answer. I'd be happy if you could answer as much as you can.

Faust: Heh.

Faust: You've gotten a lot tougher. That's right, there's no need to go easy on me.

Akira: (Hahaha. ...Even though his words are harsh, it feels like he's praising me by saying "well done.")

I don't know how nervous I had been, but I noticed that my shoulders had suddenly relaxed.

After that, I asked him the questions I'd prepared, one by one.

Faust answered sincerely and carefully, carefully choosing his words. The pages were filled with information about him.

Akira: Thank you for answering so many questions, Faust. This is my last question...

Akira: ...This may be difficult for you to answer. But, please let me know.

Faust: ………What is it?

Akira: Faust……. 

Akira: You like cats, don't you?

Faust: Huh?

Akira: During the first interview, you stubbornly denied it, but this time I'd really like to ask you about it!

Faust: ……Pff, Hahaha.

Faust: You really are, above my imagination.

Akira: R-Really...?

Faust: Well, never mind. To answer your previous question… Well, I don't hate cats.

Akira: You wouldn't say you like them, would you?

Faust: I'm a curse worker, after all. That kind of thing doesn't look good on me.

Faust shook his head with a smile on his face, and I remembered when we first met.

Akira: (Come to think of it, last time he said "There's nothing in particular" that he likes...)

If only one day he could tell me something that he would say he likes without hesitation.

what a joyous thing that would be.

But that's why I want us to get to know each other little by little, without rushing.

Feeling that he has a much softer air about him than when we first met... I gently put my pen down.

I can only say because it’s now - Card Episode

Akira: Faust, thank you for taking the time for the interview!

Akira: Also, this is something I've been asking everyone...

Akira: Is there anything you can talk about because it is now?

Faust: Because it is now...? That's a difficult question.

Faust: ……

Akira: (He's really thinking about it seriously. Ah, he looked at me...)

Faust: I wear that hat sometimes.

Akira: ......That hat? 

Akira: Wait, what? You mean that wool one?

Faust: Yes. The one you bought me as a souvenir when you went to the central city.

Faust: ......you gave it to me yourself why are you so surprised.

Akira: Haha, sorry. I've never seen you wearing it before, so I was surprised.

Akira: I'm so happy that you actually use it. Thank you for letting me know!

Faust: Don't mention it. I would feel uncomfortable if I didn't say anything about it.

Akira: (You're so serious, Faust...) (But I really love that about you)

Homescreen Voiceline

Hearts change with time. Even if we exchange a promise, can our hearts stay the same forever? I won't believe it. What about you, sage?

[verywolf589]

*Inhale and Exhale.*

Tyler is Eve, not the Judas! Not just because Judas kiss Jesus (Wednesday) knowing he’ll have to betray her at the end. He is the Eve because just like Eve, he gets trick by the serpent (Laurel) to get knowledge (trying to figure out what happened to his mother, Francoise) because God (Donovan) won’t give him the knowledge! TYLER IS EVE! TYLER IS EVE!! 

[phonification]

ive been thinking about taco and balloon forming a little alliance post s1/ pre s2 where they'd (begrudgingly) work together planning on how to break into hotel OJ to steal stuff to take back to their makeshift camp like food, blankets, pillows, etc,,, anything that could be useful to them

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

[miallurk]

In these days i realized i like art and writing and creating and shopping and taking walks and talking to people and cleaning and helping and studying and doing things but i'm just. too stressed, tired and burned out to do them. How great!

[angerygoomba]

listening to ants from up there like a normal healthy person that has relationships that they know will thrive and will not be lost and is certain of their future and enjoys whats happening today and what was happening yesterday and last week and last month. and im cool about it

[spottedmischief]

Shenzi: *tells him the truth about Scar*

Cheezi: Okay, I think we made a mistake.

Shenzi: *asks him to join her clan so they can be safe*

Cheezi: how dare.