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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year ago

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Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year ago

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so sorry it took me a few days to get this together for you, but i hope you enjoy some of these!

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i'm sure there are a bunch i've forgotten, so please feel free to reblog and share your own work and your faves!

also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won't be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.

hobi x reader

guarded & kanalia by @xjoonchildx — basically anything by ana lbr

just practice & we float by @anotherbtswriter

gone wild by @johobi

liar, liar by @eoieopda

party on you by @here2bbtstrash

do i wanna know? by @yoongiphoria

started with a spark, now we're on fire by @the-boy-meets-evil

renegade by @junghelioseok

midnight confessions by @snackhobi

cry to my room by @kithtaehyung

matters of the heart by @hobidreams

plant boy by @gukyi

sunlit affair by @ubemango

the art of war by @wwilloww

not today, satan by @gimmethatagustd

the wood by @sailoryooons

virtuoso by @hamsterclaw

even though by @moni-logues

anything by @dilfhoseokie

upbeat

for the first time (what's past is past)

same old mistakes

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)

as always, mxm fics (aka me being embarrassing sope trash) under the cut!

member x member

little miracles by @here2bbtstrash (jihope)

you're not mine, but you're the best (jihope) ⭐

i only always think (jihope)

you made me dream when i couldn't sleep (jihope)

walk the walk (jihope)

polaroid (jihope)

a midnight clear (jihope) ⭐

got an offer you might refuse (jihope feat. jin)

i don't want it at all (jihope feat. jin)

please be my finale (sope) ⭐

i've been calling your name (in this whole universe) (sope)

nothing without sunlight (sope)

same damn hunger (sope) ⭐

hot fuss (sope)

i'd love it if we made it (sope) ⭐

rub your feelings down my spine (sope)

kiss me hard before you go (sope) ⭐

how easy this should be (sope)

all my days (i'll know your face) (sope)

those ocean eyes (sope)

leave you drowning (until you reach for my hand) (sope)

reputation (sope)

snapshots from the breakdown (sope) ⭐

the best is yet to come (sope)

my hands down your pants (no homo) (sope)

first times and stuff & an experiment in threesomes (sope feat. jk)

at least i got you in my head (hopekook)

10/10, would do again (hopekook)

bone + tissue (hopekook)

telepathy (rapline)

delta (rapline)

i get those goosebumps every time (rapline)

i'm on fire (rapline)

when the moon rises (namseok)

how i'm imagining you (namseok)

in your atmosphere (namseok)

why don't you figure (my heart) out (namseok)

the universe needs more you (namseok)

bated breath (2seok)

smile like you mean it (2seok)

gingerbread (2seok)

cowboys love horses (2seok)

natural gnosis and the chaos therein (2seok) ⭐

telepathy for virgins (2seok)

⭐ = personal mxm favorite. please read any of these and return to scream over them with me.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #fic rec

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kurishiri · 4 months ago

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03 . . . happy birthday, alfons! ˗ˏˋ🪞´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit suggestive, more soft alfons hours.

Alfons: A birthday that will remain in my memory... you said?

A: ...If that’s the case, I would be remiss if I felt that the day has been going swimmingly as you hoped.

Kate: Eh...?

Alfons: This birthday has been so full of ridiculous coincidences, I couldn’t forget it, even if I really wanted to.

Kate: That… doesn’t seem to hold much positive meaning.

Alfons: Oh, I fully assure you I mean it in the best way possible though?

(And once again, it seems like he’s the one being considerate toward me…)

Alfons: …Let me tell you something, Kate. Of course, it would have been wonderful if everything had gone as you planned.

A: Would you not agree, though, that success could be celebrated with just about anybody?

A: A day such as today, where we can laugh together at having gone through so many comical blunders…

A: …If you ask me, that feels much more special than simply celebrating that things have gone according to plan, and it will also stay in my memory as well.

Kate: Now that you mention it… maybe… that is true?

Thanks to Alfons explaining his thoughts to me in such a clear way, connecting his reasoning together,

gradually, yet surely, I was able to think of these blunders as a good thing.

Alfons: Things such as success and failure, sadness and happiness… if it is you I am eating with, every flavor is second to none.

A: So that’s why, come now, won’t you give me your final present?

A: No matter if the present comes out as you have planned, or something has gone awry…

A: Your goal to make this a birthday that stays in my memory is going quite swimmingly, I’d say? You have my congratulations.

(No matter if it’s a success or failure… that’s the first time I’ve heard something like this.)

Encouraged by Alfons’ words, I took the final present out of my bag.

Kate: Here you go. It’s my final present to you… a bouquet of forget-me-not flowers.

Alfons: Hehe, I see you’ve chosen flowers based on my name. Not to mention, the bouquet is quite darling. Thank you for this.

A: …Oh? And what’s this?

Alfons’ eyes were drawn to the card that was attached to the bouquet.

Kate: The florist attached that card on. It’s one wishing you a happy birthday.

Alfons: …So I see.

Kate: Uhm, if there was a blunder in there—

Alfons: No? Come then, how about we look at the flowers together?

Saying this, Alfons took me to stand in front of the mirror in his room.

Reflected in the mirror was Alfons, who was holding the bouquet of flowers, and me.

(…Thank goodness. The flowers look pretty, and the card is there too.)

(And the card says ‘Happy Birthday’ on it too… wait, huh?)

The things reflected in the mirror should appear flipped horizontally, and yet I could read the card’s message clearly through the reflection.

Kate: Alfons, this card…

When I shifted my gaze from the mirror to the bouquet, just as I had thought, the card’s message was written backwards.

Kate: It looks like the message was written wrong… I’m really sorry, to have another blunder like this…

Alfons: …Now this here is most definitely not a failure, but rather a success, no?

Kate: Eh…?

Alfons: Something that becomes correct when reflected in the mirror… it’s as though this gift was prepared specially for me, wouldn’t you say?

A: I would expect nothing less of you, Kate.

As if I myself were looking at a mirror, Alfons managed to completely turn that failure into a success.

(As I thought… Alfons really is a kind person.)

I thought there were many things I couldn’t get a grasp on about him, but I felt so happy at his kindness, which I could easily feel.

And I loved his soft expression he would give me when I felt down.

(It’s Alfons’ birthday, and yet I’m always the one who’s being made happy like this…)

(I wonder… is there anything that could make Alfons happy as well?)

As I searched my memory for something… I recalled his birthday last year.

Kate: …Alfons, could you please sit on the bed?

I had Alfons sit on the bed before I went atop his lap.

Alfons: …Well, seeing you so bold is a less than common sight indeed. Why on my lap?

Kate: Because, last year, when I was on your lap like this, you said you enjoyed it…

—— Flashback ——

Kate: …? Wait, why do I have to be on your lap…

Alfons: Need you even ask? Obviously, it’s because I enjoy it.

—— End flashback ——

Alfons: …I wasn’t aware you had remembered such trivial words from way back then.

Kate: Well, whenever it comes to you, I have quite a good memory.

K: No matter how trivial, or how meaningless they may seem… I haven’t forgotten a single thing.

Even if you do carry a fate where you will end up forgotten, I will never forget you.

As though Alfons had picked up on my silent resolve, he quietly smiled at me,

but he left me with no answer in return.

(I’m sure Alfons can’t believe in a future where he can escape from his tragic fate now.)

But, that was something that couldn’t be helped.

If he were to hold expectations that he could escape from it when a method to do so hadn’t yet been found yet, he would only get hurt.

(So, that’s why… you don’t have to believe in such a future right now.)

(After all, when I do find a way to escape it, I’m sure you will be very happy about it.)

Alfons: …You did say that you went on top of my lap because I enjoy it,

A: but can I say the same for you, being on top of me like this?

A: Seeing as last night as well, you were on top o—

Kate: T-this and that are different! Stop saying such strange things!

Alfons: My sincerest apologies.

When I retorted in a panic with a pout… it was after that I noticed.

That in order to lift my gloomy mood, he had been teasing me.

Alfons: So? Would you care to tell me what you plan to do next?

A: If you don’t mind, though, I will also do what I would like too.

With an air of mischief, his hands undid the ribbon on my clothes.

(At this rate, I’ll slowly melt completely into his touch… so before that,)

Kate: Wait a minute. There are other things I remember.

K: If I remember right, ‘Since we’re celebrating my birthday, is it not natural to give the birthday boy a kiss, at least?’… was it?

Last year, Alfons had used his ability on me, having ensnared me in his temporary illusion,

causing me to kiss him of my own accord.

Kate: Happy birthday, Alfons.

Alfons: …Truly, I am thankful for all the wonderful presents you have given me.

A: Every single one… they have all been engraved. In my heart, that is.

A: However… I did also say that I wished for a most passionate kiss as well.

Kate: That…

(Indeed, I remember last year, he did say that.)

(And, I also remember all the lewd things we did after that.)

Alfons: …Don’t tell me you have forgotten that?

(When he says it heartrendingly like that, I can’t feign forgetfulness with him.)

Kate: I haven’t forgotten. …In fact, I remember it. I remember it all.

Alfons: Then, I do look forward to it.

Once again, our lips touched, and I slipped my tongue in his mouth, which was slightly ajar.

I couldn’t do it as well as Alfons, but I still tried my best, in my own way.

But…

Alfons: I see you could use some work on your kissing, Kate.

The moment our lips parted, Alfons said this with a smile playing on his lips.

Kate: ‘Could use some work’… and here I was trying to do it like you…!

Alfons: I could feel a desperation quite reminiscent of a dog wanting to lap at its owner’s face…

A: Ahh, but if anything, you are more akin to a cat to me.

Kate: …I think it’s just you have much more experience than me in this, so you’re too good at this, Alfons.

When I narrowed my eyes, sarcasm laced into my tone, Alfons responded in turn gave me a flat affirmation as if saying something like ‘that may also be the case.’

(I wanted to satisfy him, so I tried my very best… but was this kiss a blunder too?)

Though he had given me words of encouragement that these blunders would remain in his memory, I still felt my mood would plummet once again.

Alfons: So, that’s why, I implore you to not become good at this.

Kate: Eh…?

Alfons: You were the one who said ‘it’s just you have much more experience than me in this, so you’re too good at this,’ no?

A: If that’s the case, just like now… it’s alright to not know any kiss other than mine.

(When he says it like that, it’s almost like…)

(…he’s saying, ‘Don’t kiss anyone other than me.’)

Hearing that possessive side of him, my mood lifted once again.

Alfons: Come now, Kate. One more time.

The things we were doing were things only adults would do, but the way he was demanding it seemed a bit childish, and I found that somewhat adorable.

Kate: Hehe… alright then.

So that neither he nor I would forget this… with the taste of clumsy kisses, we carved this very moment, deeply so.

Fin.

← prev fin. epilogue →

full masterlist 🪞🍰 ╱ ko-fi ☕ (30% of proceeds will go to doctors without borders for donations $17↑)

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stellayuta · 5 months ago

Text

Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 3.

Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 🧡

PART 1 ||| PART 2

synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.

genre: some smut and lots of angst

content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, all sorts of sexy stuff (fingering, oral, orgasm denial), swearing, angsty elements, cheating and discussion of mental health <3

word count: 5.2k

a/n: can't stop writing this lmao. here's part 3. Also, I noticed I have some trouble writing second person pov and keep switching to first so pls excuse any grammatic discrepancies.

WARNING: always use protection!

The chilly November air is ruthless as it bites your exposed skin. You had an ambitious plan for the night with your flashy dress, but all of it fell apart, leaving you alone and miserable for the second time in your life. Maybe it's the cold, but you feel your nose leaking - or maybe it's your uncontrollable crying that's causing that.

"Oh my god, stop crying!" you snap at yourself. This is pathetic. Your friends will not be happy with this advancement. You couldn't even get Noritoshi his darned autograph.

You seemed to have picked the back exit of the casino fortunately because you can still hear camera shutters going off in a distance. There is nothing in the back except a small, marble fountain with a weak stream of water. You do notice a very flashy, bright red car parked near it though, very far from the parking lot which is more towards the front of the casino. You look at in awe, how it casts a pinkish-red glow on the white marble around it - almost looks like it's made of rubies.

"Like my ride?" a haughty voice grabs your attention, and you haphazardly rub at your eyes before looking up. It's a tall, slender man in a fiery red suit and black accents walking towards you. You take note of his snowy white tresses and crystaline blue eyes. You feel like you've seen him somewhere before? Is he perhaps an actor or a supermodel?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at your car." You apologize to the man in case he had plans of accusing you of an attempted grand theft auto.

"Ah, don't worry about it." He says, waving his hand dismissively, "These cars are meant to be stared at, otherwise what's this point."

The comment makes you smile at bit as you hug yourself a little to get some relief from the cold.

"So?" He begins, twirling his keys on his long index finger. "What are you doing out here? Saw you last with Okkotsu? You his chick?" He interrogates you.

"I just came out for some fresh air, I don't quite like crowded spaces." You tell him, evading his question.

"No one hates glamor." The man says, fashioning a pair of circular sunglasses from his jacket pocket and putting them on. "Especially not formula one glamor. The richest of the riches. The most esteemed parties, crowd. What is it that really irked you?"

You frown at him. "Why do you believe everyone is interested in that kind of life? Do you think one kind find genuineness in life when your environment is constantly this superficial?" Maybe you spoke too much but the man seems intrigued.

"So Okkotsu bagged a smart chick. Good for him." He teases but you are not in the mood for any of it. "I am not his chick. We are friends. Not anymore probably. But don't make assumptions." you snap at the guy.

"Ah, calm down, tiger..." He says, putting his hands up and sitting up on the hood of his car. "Yuta doesn't just bring any chick along with him to places. I thought the two of you looked nice together!"

"He doesn't?" you ask. You feel a terrible ember of hope inside of you but want to immediately douse it. The strange man lets out a manic laugh.

"What? Did you think he was some Casanova, getting into everyone's pants. Do you even know anything about him?" he asks you mockingly and you feel a blush of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. "He's not like the rest of us - forever on the search for love, and getting played by women who want us for the fame." He says, gazing at the sky. It is quite pretty out here today, a starry night.

You don't know for sure if this guy would know anything, but it seems like he would so, you can't help but ask him.

"What's going on between Yuta and that woman with the mole?" you ask, not making eye contact with the man. He looks at you with narrowed eyes.

"Who? Rika?"

"Yes, her."

"Oh yeah, they dated. For a year maybe? Yuta thinks they were in love, but I disagree. Yuta would think he's in love with anyone as long as they love him. He's pretty stupid I must say." The last part brings a smile to your face. "What happened between them?" you prod.

"Hmm, aren't you curious, as a friend?" He sticks his tongue out at you but continues on before you can protest.

"Well turns out, Rika loved how popular he was. Ad campaigns, parties, press tours, social media. Rika loves to be talked about. And with Yuta, she'd be as notorious as him. That was when Yuta was at the peak of his career. He hasn't been so well this year and Rika, finding that she had no screen-time anymore, decided it wasn't worth being linked to Yuta anymore." He says, sighing. You furrow your brows at this reveal.

"And so, as all fake things must come to an end, she asked for the breakup and Yuta had to comply. Do you know why he let her go?" Gojo asks you and you shrug your shoulders.

"Because he felt he wasn't deserving of being her boyfriend if he can't even be famous and publicly liked enough to be known as her boyfriend. He thought she deserves better."

You and the man exchange a glance, knowingly fully well that no man would think this way. Yuta was truly, genuinely too stupidly kind for his own good.

"W-why is he still in contact with her then?" you ask. Now this came from a place of selfishness. You didn't mind that Yuta had a past, but you didn't want her around him anymore. Regardless of whether you and Yuta had anything going or not.

"Well, they got to know each other because she is his personal manager. He didn't want to risk her livelihood by firing her." Gojo says.

"Well not anymore." a third voice joins the two of you as you turn around to see a livid Yuta close the door behind him and walk towards you. His hair is now falling onto his head, lock by lock, ruining his neat hairdo but very much reminding you of his fucked-out look from the other night. He has discarded his grey tuxedo jacket for good. He stands in between you and the white-haired man, seemingly trying to shield you from him. "I got rid of her for good. Now, what are you doing here, Gojo?"

Gojo. Now you get it. The first Ferrari driver who crashed out today. The question makes Gojo give Yuta a half smirk.

"Bad timing, Okkotsu. I was just about to ask this pretty lady here for a ride in my Ferrari. Third-wheel much?"

"Well, that won't be necessary." Yuta declares, pulling you in by the waist. "My Lambo's faster and Y/N prefers the better driver."

Yuta's blatant show of talent supremacy makes your mouth pop open in sheer admiration for a full two seconds.

"See you around..." Yuta says, pulling you along and not waiting for Gojo's reply.

Before the two of you can get to the car though, he finds a crevice between two pillars to push you into.

"I am apologizing again. One last time. You won't see the likes of her again." He says, very seriously, his spiky dark hair brushing the top of your forehead due to his proximity to you. You stare at his lips mindlessly, not knowing what to say. Why would he go this far for you?

"I don't think anybody in your world wants to see you with me and, she seems like she is still in love with you, Yuta..." You admit more to yourself than to him, cupping his face in your quivering hands. His expression is very honest as if he wants to shout it out to you with every cell of his body.

"She can go to hell. So can all of them." It is but a gentle whisper and he waits merely a second for your nodded consent before he presses his lips onto yours and your legs turn to jelly. You take fistfuls of his black shirt into your hands for support as you wrap your arms around him, melting, drowning into the kiss without any hope of surfacing. His hands run up and down your torso, trying to touch as much as body as possible before deciding to settle one hand on your ass and the other holding your chin to face you as he breaks the kiss to take a breath.

The two of you huff, separating yet still connected by a slimy string of your salivas. The weather doesn't seem chilly anymore as you feel his marble-like, wet back from under his soaked shirt. You also find your nipples poking out of your dress painfully, your collar bones shining with sweat as Yuta notices them and swoops right in to start kissing them.

"We'll be papped in this position, dummy." You slap Yuta's back, looking around with haste to see if you had peeping company.

"Don't care," he mumbles, groaning while he peppers the top half of your chest and your cleavage with kisses.

"I care!" You tell him, trying to yank him off of you. "I don't want to be on the gossip pages of a tabloid, making out with you."

He looks up, his dark blue eyes feral. "My car has tinted windows. No flash would penetrate."

You follow his stream of thought to realize what he's saying and bite your lip. You nod at him to give him the green signal to take you back to his car, parked out at the front where the paparazzi is parked too.

But it is not near enough.

You are clinging on to his muscular arm as you walk and feeling the weight of his arm right between your breasts is driving you insane.

Thunder makes a surprise appearance as a previously clear sky starts collecting an army of angry, dark clouds, illuminated by a shameless full moon. It's about to rain down on you two people, whose passion knows no bounds.

"Wait, Yuta-" you make him stop halfway and bring down his face to kiss him yet again. You run your finger along his jawline, admiring how perfect its edges are and occupy your hand with grabbing his hair. You take a small break to mumble truthfully against his puffed-up lips- "I couldn't wait till the car..."

That is enough motivation for Yuta to pick you up in his arms like a doll and carry you the rest of the way to the car, with your legs wrapped around his waist and your tongue fighting his for dominance. Fortunately, it seems the paparazzi had deserted the front area of the casino and you hear them in a distance yelling out "gojo" and "ferrari". So it was him. Now you owe him one. Thanks to that, you're able to manage getting into Yuta's sexy black lambo pretty discreetly.

This is the first time you get to properly see the car and with its teal interior and white lightwork, it truly looks like an engineering masterclass. Somehow your brain wires back to Toji driving this car around smoothly through the streets of Vegas and you turn to Yuta who's already made himself comfortable in the driver's seat.

He looks at you with yearning but it's unsafe to drive under the influence of lust.

You stare at him though till he raises his brow.

"Are you sure you can drive the car, I mean, it's an expensive car." you say before you realize what's coming out your mouth.

Yuta makes the most interesting expression possible.

"Remind me whose car this is?"

"Yours?"

"Remind me what I do for a living...?"

".... drive cars really fast...?"

Okay that was stupid on your part. It's just out of Toji's smooth, more practiced hands and into Yuta's younger, more energetic hands - you didn't know what to think. You were now going to witness Yuta Okkotsu in his true element - doing the thing he was born to pioneer.

Yuta revs the engine and pulls the car out of its spot and out of the premises smoother than buttery silk. He gets on to the road and soon enough we accelerate to a comfortable pace.

You admire how perfectly this car moves, like a black cat prowling through the roads.

Once Yuta hits the highways though, he assaults the gas pedal.

"Ahhhh!!!" you yelp, feeling the air hit your face with the windows down. It feels like literally being slapped by the wind. This earns a hearty laugh from Yuta.

"You should sit in one of our race cars, this is nothing!" he yells, rolling down his window too.

Since it is the wee hours of the night, the highway is practically empty, and you watch Yuta own the road like he was meant to rule it.

"Woo-hoo-hooooo!!!!" You scream out again, this time, cautiously putting your head out the window. You watch the buildings and the shimmering rows of cars running on the local streets pass by at a distance. Your hair finds its own rhythm, flying with the wind.

When you finally get off the highway, the both of you roll up the windows and relax into your seats. You feel wide awake now, more than you've ever been before.

"That was the best!" you tell Yuta, still high on adrenaline.

"You're welcome..." he says coolly.

"Where are we going?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you like stars?" Yuta turns to you, smiling, probably already knowing your answer by how your eyes begin to twinkle just like those stars he mentioned.

****

The car finds itself right at home by the edge of a cliff as Yuta helps you out of the car and locks hands with you. It is quite windy up here too and the cliff overlooks the Vegas City, the view is mind-blowing.

But nothing can beat the expanse of the universe that is showing you a glimpse of itself in the night sky. You stand there looking up at the myriads of colors and glitter decorating the inky black canvas of the night. You spot at least 5 shooting stars in 30 seconds.

"Come here." Yuta calls out to you, and you turn around to see that he has laid out a fluffy blanket on the hood of his car and has another one in his hand for you two to use, perhaps.

You approach the car skeptically and ask Yuta if it can handle the weight.

"It can handle much more." He comments, urging you to join him on the hood of the car. The two of you maintain a good distance between you on the hood, but you so want to touch him right now. The sparkling sky finds its home in Yuta's dark, spectating eyes too and you can't help but look at him with... l-love?

For a while the two of you just sit there, enjoying the view and saying nothing. The silence isn't awkward this time but calming, very warm. You bring your knees closer to your chest. Without club alcohol, you feel shy now, of all times to be shy.

The last strand of your patience snaps though when you put your hand down on the hand and accidentally brush fingers with him.

The two of you exchange a look and you are not sure what's stopping you two? Dignity? Qualms? To hell with all of that.

"Stop looking at me..." you whisper at him, slowly sliding towards him, across the hood and climbing on top of him, right on his crotch, making him lay back down on the hood. He, however, does not want to stop looking at you like he wants to drink you up,

"Look anywhere else!" you gasp, placing your palms face down on his chest and yet, he won't break eye contact at all. He is studying you now, up and down, eyes stopping a second too long on the cleavage out for display, your lush thighs around his hips.

"Why, is it bothering you? I'm not going to look away." He declares, propping himself up on the hood and running his hands up and down your sides. The roughness of his hands that is evident even through the dress makes you bite you lip and breath out harshly. You are now practically sitting in his lap.

"Usually..." He continues, bringing his lips dangerously close to yours, brushing them against yours as you breathe in his heady scent.

"People have a thing for doing this stuff inside the car." His tongue slides across your bottom lip and he moves to bite your earlobe.

"Yet, here we are..." he comes back to your lips, nose brushing against yours as his hand snakes up your side to hold your neck gently. "Right out in the open... inviting anyone to see, am I right, Y/N?"

You look at him with pleading eyes and move in to kiss him but he uses his other hand to hold you by your hair. He doesn't hurt you but pulls with enough pressure to keep the two of you apart.

"I want to touch you..." you confess. What is his problem, this jerk? The only thing he is accomplishing by delaying this is making your heart race and making your bottom wet.

"Would you have gone with Gojo if he really invited you out for a ride?" He asks, his eyes darkening further while his fingers stay intertwined in your hair. Oh, now you see. He is the territorial type. Well, you can't judge him, so are you. But two can play at this game.

"Well, he was quite hot." you lie with a convincing smile, pretending to dream of some attractive version of Gojo that does not exist in your brain. Sure, he is handsome - but, Yuta made you suck him off in record time, that's something. Even Megumi took a month.

Yuta must believe what you say because his grip in your hair tightens ever so slightly.

"What did you talk about?" He asks, cocking his head to the side as he uses his free hand to slide it down your back and raise your skirt up. He must be pleased to find his target already soaking wet and you barely control a squeal when he plunges two fingers in at torturously slow pace. You have wanted him for so long though, that you begin to lose focus and he lightly tugs at your hair.

"Go on, what did you talk about?" he demands in a lower voice.

"Huh, oh yes." you try to continue your farce. "H-he was telling me how good I look. He told me he's a good ride." you grin at Yuta and he curves his fingers upward into your womanhood to finally earn a disgruntled moan from you.

"You riding him? Don't make me laugh." He says, a twisted smile forming on his face that only makes you want to prod him more.

"Why not?" you push. "He's tall, has a majestic body. He looks like he's got a lot of endurance. He looks like h-he'd b-be." With every compliment you direct towards Gojo, Yuta's pace increases as he assaults your sensitive spot.

"He what?"

"H-h-he... it would be fun to r-ride-" before you can finish your sentence though you can already feel a balloon of pleasure inflating rapidly inside your nether regions. You were about to cum any second now.

But just as you are about to go over the peak, Yuta pulls out his fingers without warning. Your brows furrow together, and you look at Yuta with a face so shocked, he almost wants to laugh.

"What happened, baby?" He asks, pushing his face into your cleavage. "Go on... tell me." he says, the vibration of his voice making your nipples erect.

"Why'd you stop?" you ask him, still unable to fully recover from the loss of your orgasm.

"That's your punishment for lying about Gojo."

"Yuta that's unfair!" you grab a bunch of his hair and hug him tight, making his nose press between the valley of your breasts.

"Mhmm..." he replies lazily. "I can give you a chance to make it up to me though." He kisses your nipple through the fabric of your dress and looks up at you. He doesn't need a nod to know that you are up for his challenge. He helps you shimmy yourself out of that flimsy dress and it lays discarded on the top of the car. Now you are butt naked in the middle of nowhere, atop Yuta's car. The thrill of it sends a shiver down your spine and certainly a shiver up your puss.

Yuta makes you get on your knees on top of the hood, facing the windshield. The cold touch of the glass on your squished breasts makes you sensitive and ticklish. He pokes your ass. "Up!"

At once, you raise your bottom for him to feast his eyes on. A leaky mess you are, glossy liquid covering your inner thigh and the opening to your womanhood. Yuta doesn't waste too much time gawking at it though and gets straight to business.

He licks one strip up your slit to get you started as you moan out. "Yes, that's your task. You only get to come today, if you are loud enough."

"What if someone comes running to find us?" you ask, turning around only to see Yuta raise a brow. "Isn't that what you want?"

You hate that he is right. This is exactly what you want. It's a massive, massive turn on for you, the risk of being seen. How does he know though?

You merely nod at him and lay your face back down on the glass as he continues to alternate between licking your nether lips and inserting his tongue into your hole. With each move, you are unable to hold you moans and whimpers that echo away in the night.

Soon, you feel another tingle of a bubbling orgasm and your moans turn to lower groans which makes Yuta stop again.

"Yuta, I swear to fucking god!" you scream out.

"Yes, keep that volume up!" Yuta grabs a hold of your ass and takes a deep dive into your crevice, picking up a lot of speed as he goes in and out with tongue and using two of his fingers to prod at your clit.

"Ah! Oh my goodness!" you shriek, moaning louder than ever, your breasts hitting the windshield with every time he thrusts his face into your heat.

"I-I'm cum-" this time, you are able to go over, losing your mind in the process, going cross eyed as Yuta doesn't slow down at all.

He doesn't stop until minutes later when your orgasm has subsided, and you are speechless from overstimulation. When he retracts you simply slump down the windshield and lay flat back on the hood, facing the sky - your face red and in a daze.

"How does it feel?" Yuta asks, placing a warm hand on your abdomen. He is completely soaked - in sweat and in your fluids. So is the blanket he laid out on the hood.

"Please Yuta..." you beg him, raising your hands up at him. "I can't, I need to kiss you, please..."

"God, baby..." Yuta pouts at you and leans over, connecting your lips together as your grab hold of his hair and deepen the kiss. This is all you wanted at the end of the day. To feel his lips and their warmth, to breathe in his odor. When you finally separate, you keep your heads connected and smile like a crazed teenager.

"Wait, it's your turn..." you remind him.

"It's fine. We can do that later." Yuta says, grabbing a hold of the second blanket to wrap around you while using the first one to clean you up down under. "You'll catch a cold out of here. Sorry, if I went too far."

You don't want to buy that though.

"You're going too far if you don't let me see mini Yuta again."

"Don't call it that oh my god." Yuta fake-heaves.

"But that's my favorite part about you!"

"What happened to liking someone for their character, Y/N?"

"Ughh... shush.. you!" you snap, getting off the car and reaching for your dress. It's a chore to put it on but you have to.

"I'm not letting you go without pleasuring you." you declare but Yuta merely guides you by the back and makes you sit inside the car.

"Soon, soon." he says. "We're going back to my hotel anyway. We need a change of clothes and a proper bed."

"So it's part two of last night?" you ask him teasingly. It was impressive that it had not even been a whole 24 hours yet it seemed like forever between last time and now. It also seemed like you got to know so much more of this man who was a complete stranger as of last night.

This made you smile but it immediately made you anxious as well.

When this night is over, where will the two of you be?

You were partially afraid to say anything and break your trance. what if this is all a dream?

"What are you thinking?" He suddenly asks, caressing your hair. This is the first time he touches you in a while. Well probably, it's only been a few minutes but it felt like a while.

"I-" you begin but are unable to find words.

"Do you think this is just an infatuation and will dwindle down to nothing in the next few days?" you finally say. It's better to face the truth now than to delay it. Yuta has to take a chance to ponder over it for a while which only proceeds to create a knot in your stomach.

"That depends on whether you believe in love at first sight?" he replies unexpectedly.

A woman of no nonsense, you can't help but reply "I don't."

"I don't either." he reciprocates. "But I do believe in potential at first sight."

He separates himself from you only for a moment to hold you and look into your eyes as he speaks, pouring out his feelings.

"After the first time we locked eyes, after our first conversation and after the first night we spent together - albeit it was rushed and impulsive and although I won't say I was in love back then, I can't stop thinking about you either." He tells you, transparently.

"This pull between us, it doesn't exist without reason. So I'm asking you..." He says, taking a deep breath.

"Are you willing to give this a chance?"

----

Megumi and you met at a mutual friend's house-warming party. Both of you were newcomers in a small town who migrated for work. There was that in common other than the fact that both of you were slightly awkward, not great talkers and certainly liked the indoors better than adventure. You were just happy that you could find a similar soul in a town full of older people or already married people with families. It was almost not surprising when the two of you started dating. It was a choice of convenience. There was love, without doubt. At least from your side. How could you hate a man, who made you coffee first thing in the morning after a long, tiring day at work. How could you not love a man who played with stray puppies he found on the side of the road. How could you not love a man who knew how to have intelligent conversations and also appreciate your intelligence at the same time.

For you, love was a no-brainer. If this wasn't your perfect match, who would be?

Although Megumi had never explicitly given you any 'I Love You's ,Who could Megumi possibly find in this small town that was more compatible with him than you?

So, when another new hire at the company, Nobara, first reached out to you to set her up with some social circles, you started out by inviting her home for dinner. The three of you had a pleasant evening and you thought nothing of it. Megumi and you had been together for three years at this point. You were even planning to adopt a dog together. You thought of yourself as a married couple, almost.

Then why?

Why, after a horribly taxing day at work, with chinese takeout in your hand and barely enough energy to make it your room, do you find yourself listening to noises of a creaking bed. Why do you find yourself looking at your boyfriend biting Nobara's lips as he tells her the filthiest, yet most romantic phrases. Why is pressing her forehead on to her as he cums. It doesn't make sense. Intercourse with Megumi was quiet, quick affair. That's why it was 'intercourse'. It was something the two of you did to quickly satisfy each other, mostly him.

When you dropped the take-out bag, curry streamed out onto the wooden floor and carpet, and you could only do so much to keep yourself upright and not fall into the small puddle of curry. The noise made the duo turn to look at you and your brain was completely tuning out what Nobara had to say. She seemed to be apologetic, pleading almost but your eyes only followed Megumi as his bare self got out of bed, put his pants on and walked right past you - like you were air. Like you were invisible to him. He went to the restroom and closed the door, with Nobara scurrying out of the house, half clothed.

That night, a part of you was lost forever. The other part of you that refused to give up your survival instincts pushed you - it pushed you until you found yourself at Momo and Noritoshi's doorstep - the Kamo household.

You remember telling them the whole thing as it killed you again, word by word. You find yourself sobbing till you got a panic attack - and then one more. Momo had to call over Miwa and her boyfriend, Kokichi too.

They were the ones who decided that to pull you out of this, you'd need to be pulled out of that town.

The Vegas trip happened only after you promised yourself in the mirror, with a lot of conviction that you would never, ever fall in love with a man again.

----

It's like his confession sobers you out completely. You fall back into the chasm of reality.

Yuta's dark blue eyes wait earnestly for an answer. And maybe you know what you're going to tell him. You'll have to tell him it's not going to work. You'll have to tell him you can't place your heart in jeopardy again.

You will have to stab yourself in your heart because you can't afford to hurt yourself, but you absolutely can't lie to this man and hurt him too.

After tonight, you will let him go..

"Let's get going, Yuta." You laugh nervously. "I'm too tired, don't mind if I sleep."

to be continued.... PART 4 HERE

a/n: phew, this part took some time to figure out what direction I wanted this to go and what elements I wanted to include in this part. Expect a LOT of angst in the next one. I believe Part 4 may be the penultimate chapter. Till then, stay tuned and stay healthy!

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cerealxperimentslain · 4 months ago

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i am sick to bastard fucking death of shofarsogood (tw for anti arabism and islamophobia) (& a guest appearance of a klansman for some fucking reason)

i think this post is a little funny, and i will give you the context to see why

ID: A post by @xclowniex, reblogged by @shofarsogood:

“I really need goyim to listen to the whole "if 9 people sit at a table and then one nazi sits at that table and no one tried to remove the nazi, then there are 10 nazis at the table"

I have lost my entire irl friend group due to antisemitism, and whilst correlation doesn't equal causation, so im not saying anything as 100% fact, however there is mad correlation between levels of being antisemitic and closeness with a specific person.

I can't be bothered to turn it into a physcial graph but in my head, oo babie is it a strong graph”

End ID

(first of all lol. lmao.)

ID: @xclowniex reblogged @the-catboy-minyan:

@goatfactsofficial:

A screenshot of a 4chan comment saying “I see you've fall for the old Jewish trick of using evidence to make a point”

@goatfactsofficial:

“literally the pro-pal crowd for the last 298 days”

End ID

let’s be clear, @shofarsogood is mutuals with @prismatic-bell

ID: @shofarsogood reblogged @prismatic-bell

@badjokesbyjeff:

(the post has been cut off for brevity)

End ID

(badjokesbyjeff cameo, naturally)

(I could insert screenshots of prismatic-bell reblogging from shofarsogood but that feels redundant. go scroll both their blogs for a single minute you’ll find more than enough proof)

we should all be familiar with prismatic-bell at this point, but here’s a quick reminder

ID: Post by @prismatic-bell, dated 13 may 2021:

"Free Palestine" IS an antisemitic statement.

It comes with the idea that Palestinians are the only people who have an ancient homeland here, and that Jews are to blame for "taking it over." When they destroyed our temple and put a mosque right on top of it! And then they claim we don't belong there!

"Free Palestine" is a shorthand way of saying you hate Jews. Because it ignores history and, almost without variation, is used as an excuse for antisemitic crimes.”

End ID

(google dot com what were muslims doing in the year 70CE) (also i have endless examples of prismatic bell saying the most fucked up shit. xe has never-stop-posting disease and it would be literally impossible to miss what kind of person xe is)

ID: post by @prismatic-bell:

“You know what?

Fuck Ramadan.

Sorry. We were attacked, raped, murdered, beaten, and kidnapped on a major Jewish holiday, and our Chanukkah was spent in misery. I was threatened for playing Chanukkah music IN MY OWN CAR.

So FUCK Ramadan. If this is how our holidays are treated, y'all can feel the same.”

End ID

like. there are so many “don’t call me zionist” people who follow and interact with shofarsogood. i don’t think you get to find yourself offended by people calling you a zionist if this is who you are mutuals with, & therefore mutuals-in-law with @prismatic-bell and @spot-the-antisemitism.

also second cameo of @the-catboy-minyan

ID: @shofarsogood reblogged @spot-the-antisemitism:

@the-catboy-minyan:

“dude I should have replied to every donation ask I got while having "proud Israeli Jew" on my blog to show people how these are bots that send asks randomly. you think Gazans are gonna come to a (((zionist))) for money? Imao.”

End ID

ID: @spot-the-antisemitism reblogged @shofarsogood. End ID

let me introduce @spot-the-antisemitism

ID: @spot-the-antisemitism reblogged a post by @the-garbanzo-annex-jr:

A badly cropped image. On the left is a photo of protesters protecting their identities with Palestinian keffiyeh and masks. On the right is a photo of a klansman in a hood. The text on the image reads:

“If your ideology requires that you cover your face… …maybe you need a new ideology.”

End ID

these guys’ whole entire deal is cherry picking examples of people being antisemitic and using that to try and delegitimise the whole antizionist & pro Palestine movement through some attempt of “guilt by association”. all while freely and guiltlessly associating with people like @some-israeli-guy

ID: @spot-the-antisemitism reblogged from @some-israeli-guy. End ID

this fucking guy

ID: @some-israeli-guy:

“They started a war to wipe out the Jews, they spread lies of rape and torture to demonize the Jews, and when their people ran away in fear and their militaries lost, they had the nerve to call is "the disaster" and act like innocent victims.”

#israel #palestine #no peace with nazis #palestine is a death cult #palestinian hypocrisy #antisemitism

End ID

like what do you even say to that.

a lot of this checking blog stuff i learned to do when it was much more common for cryptoterfs to be prowling around these parts. cryptoterfs won’t say transphobic slurs and they won’t openly advocate for the death of all transfems and forceful detransition of all transmascs, but they have no qualms about following people who do, while they avoid reblogging anything hateful enough that will get them easily clocked as radfems or terfs. hell, maybe they don’t even personally believe those things, maybe they’re trying to “see both sides of things”. maybe they don’t care at all and follow those blogs for entirely unrelated things and that’s why they won’t reblog any of the hate speech.

does it matter?

at the end of the day, whatever their internal motivations may be, they don’t disagree enough with the absolutely horrendous levels of transmisogyny and transphobia to see it as a dealbreaker

parallels parallels parallels

speaking of which, the way these people blog also mirrors the way that many radfems will blog. we all know the style, the “dig up some fucking joe nobody transgender person saying something stupid or lesbophobic/misogynistic & use that to paint the whole movement in a bad light”

“oh but isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” prismatic-bell hasn’t been the bane of tumblr for years just for you to call xir a joe nobody. i could pull up a joe nobody with 3 followers who says things about palestine that i wouldn’t repeat with a gun to my head, but that’s not what this is about

this is about some incredibly popular blogs on here that are either violently hateful towards palestinians, or they are mutuals with those people and don’t see that as enough of a problem to even unfollow let alone block & denounce them.

anyway i can’t link links in the original post but i have a lot of receipts reblogged to @disgustingechoes feel free to have a peruse if you are unconvinced

#shofarsogood #prismatic-bell #spot-the-antisemitism #the-catboy-minyan #xclowniex #some-israeli-guy #goatfactsofficial #the-garbanzo-annex-jr #anti arabism #islamophobia

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isa-ghost · 11 months ago

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Attention JSE Community: Important

PLEASE REBLOG

This will probably blow up in my face, but something needs to be said. Besides, anyone who comes after me for this supports genocide, so. Whatever. Free blocklist if anyone sends me hate anons.

There's a person in the community, who runs a few blogs you may know, which you'll want to block if a) you're Palestinian or b) you wholeheartedly oppose the genocide taking place against them. I'm going to provide context, then list the blogs you'll want to block.

Back in November or so, when I first started reblogging pro-Palestine posts, I as an American wasn't as informed at the time about the war going on as I am now. Like any sensible American, I fully expected that any major media source I'd be given info from would be feeding me propaganda or just lies in general. (I'm right but I digress). As soon as I started reblogging pro-Palestine posts, I got concerned asks from two anonymous Israeli people who were formerly veteran followers of mine (one had been following me for at least 6 years). I thought their concern was reasonable, given I doubted the media sources I'd be most likely to get information from. I offered to let them correct me if I reblogged misinformation, assuming America would lie to me about both sides of the war, because of course I want to ensure I'm not perpetuating misinfo.

Mind you, I only reblogged 3 types of pro-Palestine posts: charity signal boosts, posts BY Palestinians, and videos of actual literal real life footage of proof or interviews about what Israeli forces are doing to Palestine and its people.

The anons I was getting started getting angrier, more aggressive, and guilt-trippy. I'm not sure which post was their last straw, but either the main anon (the one following me 6+ years) or BOTH anons I had previously heard from attacked me in my askbox calling me antisemitic and saying other nasty things because I was supporting Palestine. The main anon guilt-tripped me and straight up claimed Israel is not harming Palestine whatsoever, in other words denying the genocide is happening. Then they unfollowed me. This person owns the blogs I'm going to list to you.

I haven't heard from this main anon or the other one on Tumblr since, however they both were, until recently, also in a JSE Community theorist server I mod in, and recently blew up in there after the server mods declared their support for Palestine. The server owners AND the mods have been getting hate anons from Zionists (presumably the two anons sending multiple asks) for the last few days because of it, just like I did when I kept reblogging pro-Palestine posts.

One of the two anons, I'm unsure which, also owned a blog called @/hamas-is-isis, which is now inactive and/or deleted. You can still block the blog regardless just to be safe. Whichever anon didn't own the blog was reblogging its posts. So both anons supported the blog to say the least.

NOTE: DO NOT INTERACT WITH THESE BLOGS. ONLY BLOCK THEM. THIS POST IS NOT INTENDED TO CAUSE HARASSMENT, ONLY AWARENESS.

The main anon, the one denying the genocide is happening, owns the following blogs, two of which are/were major community blogs (which is why I'm fully expecting this to blow up in my face somehow).

@/theoristsden

@/hug-bot

@/aceofspades-lena (this is the main anon & possibly the owner of @/hamas-is-isis)

I strongly urge anyone who sees this post to block them, because I and at least 6 other people I will not name to avoid them getting harassed further, have witnessed this person being legitimately malicious towards Palestine and the topic of it. Again, they sent me an ask denying that Israel was hurting Palestinian people.

The second anon, the server mods realized today, had previously been sending subtle Islamophobic dogwhistle art in the server. We didn't catch it until after it came out that they're Zionists. Obviously, for any members of the server who see this that may be concerned, the mods have now deleted that art. The following blogs are theirs and I'm urging anyone who sees this to block them too:

@/phantomhunt

@/spacetimesystem

On the spacetimesystem blog, there are other sideblogs they listed in their pinned post if you want to go as far as to block those too.

I won't share it on this post, but the mods of the server I mentioned have screenshot proof of some of the hate anons that have been sent (I don't have any of the ones I got months ago unfortunately), as well as some other things these two have said. We also have a screenshot of the art.

I also want to mention, we found them discussing the idea of making a JSE community space that would "accept them." If you see Discord invites floating around, be wary. You could unknowingly be joining a Zionist-owned, anti-Palestine server.

Absolutely mind-boggling to me that these two would do all this or be this way when the charity that Sean supported for Thankmas this year is helping Palestinians. Not to mention he just straight up doesn't want hateful people in his community at all. But I digress.

Anyway, I urge you to block the blogs I listed. At least one of them is genuinely malicious and has attacked multiple people on anon over voicing support for Palestine. The other made art that implied Palestinians are monsters.

Free Palestine, and stay safe.

And once more: DO NOT INTERACT WITH THE LISTED BLOGS. ONLY BLOCK. I AM NOT MAKING THIS POST LOOKING TO GET ANYONE HARASSED.

#jacksepticeye #jse community

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exaflux · 2 months ago

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How good is BTAA Scarecrow at therapy really? (An Analysis) (Part 2)

[Part 1]

Alt title: What the hell is JoyCure anyway?

Now onto the long overdue second part of this analysis series looking at the most ethical psychologist the world has ever laid eyes on. We simply must rate his performance!

I apologeese for the delay on this. Been in my drafts for over a month blegh.

This is a very long analysis compared to the first part, word of warning.

This part contains- more breaking down of psychology approaches some in less detail if covered in the first bit, Harvey almost falling off a skyscraper, and in the conclusion some talks on JoyCure and a talk on how Jon views "trust" (if you're into character analysis)

Disclaimer- I am not a trained psychologist or therapist or anything of the like, I just like psychology as a topic. This writing is purely for fun.

Harvey and Two-face will be referred to seperately in this analysis, but if referring to both Harvey will be used as default. Jonathan is still Jonathan.

Delightfully surprised by all the people who enjoyed the first part by the way! The likes and reblogs are much appreciated~

Session two-

The following all takes place in S2, Episode 7 unless otherwise stated

This session starts out with Harvey and Two-Face talking amongst themselves, focusing on a strange noise they can mutually hear in the background. In his confusion, Harvey asks Jonathan if he's still there, to which he responds: "Yes. I'm right here, Harvey. You can leave your blindfold on until I tell you to remove it, please" (10:37). Immediately responding to the questions of a worried client would help with setting their nerves at ease while minimising the amount of time they'd experience distress, with the added bonus of some trust building. Also Jonathan is so polite here! What a nice man.

That sound that Harvey's hearing, by the way, is explained by Jon as such: "That's Harmony, Two-Face. You've never known a moment of it in your entire tortured existence" (10:55). Reminder that wording matters as it can influence client outlook, especially in a therapy setting. Describing a client's experiences as a "tortured existence" is quite negative and is not an example of a good therapy practice.

A bit further on Jonathan starts advertising his goods explaining why Harvey is hearing weird stuff, claiming "the JoyCure has brought peace at last to your long inner conflict. You simply must trust me. Remember, we talked about trust when you agreed to put that blindfold on for me?" (11:24). This sets the scene as a trust exercise. Not too bad. "You said to cooperate. We cooperated" "Yes, Harvey, cooperation, that's exactly what today's lesson is all about [...] I want you to cooperate with you" (11:36) Never mind. Please do not gaslight your clients then claim you were talking about something completely different when they catch wind of it. 🚩❌ The memory is actually quite suggestible. You can influence a person's memories by both wording used in a question and how you word it. As a psychologist Jon should know this.

Directly following on from Jon's previous statement, Two-Face says he doesn't get what Jon means, so he goes on to clarify "We have oh so many ways we wage war within ourselves every day. You're just an unusually extreme case" (12:01). This is a very interesting thing for Jon to say given his tendency to negatively describe his clients' situation, and at a blush I almost said this was within acceptable therapy practices. Almost. See, here he establishes that everyone suffers from inner conflict, and Harvey's situation is just a step above that. It's notable enough to comment on, being "unusually extreme" but it's still very much kept within the realm of normal behaviour. Imo the language use here ("extreme") doesn't necessarily have a negative connotation but is an observation, but your mileage may vary. This sounds good, right? But then you have to ask- why is Two-Face needing to ask about this to begin with? This session has been set up as a trust exercise already, and these have to be discussed and agreed to beforehand. It's ethically necessary. This tells me that Jonathan has completely neglected to explain the how and whys with Harvey before all this stuff was set up for the session. He broke ethics.

"I am going to take off your blindfold now, and then I'd like you to tell me how irrational you believe your fear of high places to be" (12:42). Always good practice to give clear and easy to follow instructions to clients if you're doing an exercise with them. After Harvey removes the blindfold, finding himself standing outside of a skyscraper window, Jon wants to know his thoughts- "Tell me how do you feel?" (13:18). Again therapy stuff. Therapists ask questions on how their clients feel about certain experiences, and in identifying a feeling clients can then work towards learning why they feel that way.

We find out that Harvey finds himself unbothered by how high up he is, and later that this is due to the drug he took, JoyCure. Immediately after being asked whether he'd like to look at the view alongside Harvey, Jon responds "Thank you, I'll stay here inside where it's safe" (13:40). As if it isn't obvious enough already, standing outside a skyscraper window isn't exactly safe. Therapists, don't ask your clients to do this either. Jon throughout most of this segment doesn't sound too bothered by his own breaching of ethics, in fact he sounds like a kid who just got told they'll be getting $50 worth of Robux after class for peak gaming. Maybe it's because he's still a therapist and considers all this as progress in his client? Who knows. Either way, Jon slowly gets Harvey to do increasingly more and more dangerous things on the ledge outside the window: "In fact, you might even dance a jig on that narrow ledge if I asked you to" (14:30), "[...] you would walk to the end of that flagpole if I asked you to, I bet" (15:07). Again, this is dangerous. At the very least he's just suggesting this. It's not like he's telling Harvey (who's still relying on others to make decisions for him at this point) to walk that flagpole, right? "Yes, I want you to show me you can walk it like a tightrope [...] Walk to the very end" (15:22). Ah.❌ At the very least he's celebratory of his client's achievements, exclaiming "Congratulations Harvey!" (15:56) when that flagpole does get walked like a tightrope. Nice.

"Now this next part is very dangerous. When you're ready, turn around and come back" (16:06)- Once again, wording matters in therapy settings. Stating that the next part of the exercise is dangerous would definitely not help with putting client's worries at ease.

Neither Harvey Two-Face nor Two-Face Two-face can make heads or tails cough cough of what they've been told to do. "What do you mean when we're ready?" "Simply discuss it amongst yourselves. When you mutually decide you want to come in, turn either to your left or alternately turn to your right and come back" (16:15). Jon again making his instructions clear to his client. Two-Face becomes uneased at this response however and wants Jon to tell him what to do, with Jon declining to (16:39). This is still within the realm of normal therapy practices as Jon can't do this exercise for Harvey.

Also, at this point it'd be good to mention that despite me characterising this whole thing as a "trust exercise" up 'til now, that isn't strictly the only thing it is. This whole scene is actually an example of exposure therapy. This form of therapy is performed normally on people to help treat phobias and various anxiety conditions, OCD and PTSD. As the name suggests, this is done through presenting the client with whatever thing is a trigger to them in feeling anxiety and over time through exposure they'll (in theory) feel less anxiety over the trigger. One caveat though- you're still supposed to talk about this with a client beforehand, understand how comfortable they feel with doing the exercise and be completely willing to stop the exercise if the client no longer wants to do it. It's apparent already that Jon hasn't done this. There's multiple types of exposure therapy, this one is called gradual exposure, or systematic desensitisation. With this version of the therapy a client is supposed to make a tier list of what things give them least to most anxiety called an (exposure hierarchy), then they work their way up at their own pace. Jon here seems to be calling the shots though much more than his clients on how much they "face their fears" as it were, especially given Harvey can't make any decisions for himself.

In fact, to make things even worse again, Jon increasingly makes the exercise more anxiety-inducing than it needs to be. He presents Harvey with more and more decisions ("Come on, Harvey. Turn right or turn left. Then once you've turned, do you lead with your left foot or your right?" (16:53)) then plays dumb about knowing that Harvey can't currently make decisions on his own, "Ah, but you're without your coin. I'd forgotten." (17:11). Of course he's BSing about forgetting, especially when you notice how he suggested walking the flagpole earlier ("you would [...] if I asked you to, I bet" (15:07)) which makes one wonder if he was wanting to see to what extent that Harvey would actually do what he was told. Hmm... Either way though, he's being a twat and deliberately causing distress. ❌❌❌

This part is the juiciest bit of the session- Harvey tells Jon that he's afraid, and Jon talks about the drugs, JoyCure, he put Harvey on. Unfortunately, the details on JoyCure will be left for the conclusion as it is too juicy. But, about Harvey being afraid, Jon has this to say- "Your real fear isn't high places. The fear your feeling right now? That's the fear that defines you, Harvey. The fear of having to make a decision [...] No coin. No counsel. Just the two of you." (17:34). To recap everything that has went on so far, Jon tried to make out all this was a trust exercise (and according to Two-Face, he was just told to co-operate) and then it turned out that all this was actually an attempt at gradual exposure. But now we find it actually isn't, because the fear that that therapy would have treated isn't actually a fear anymore due to JoyCure. Instead, Harvey has been dunked directly into his real fear, making a decision, which is closer to a different type of exposure therapy: flooding. Flooding (unlike gradual exposure) is basically the theraputic equivalent to throwing you in the deep end of whatever you're made anxious by. It's a valid therapy technique, but is only used in particular circumstances and again with the consent of the client first. Do we think that Jon got permission from Harvey to do this type of therapy? Probably not.

If it's all too much info to understand, here's a simplified diagram:

At this point the session devolves more and more into being a train-wreck. There's hardly any actual therapy going on.

As a rundown:

Harvey wants off the flagpole. Jon's immediate response is to faux panic about Harvey slipping before mocking him with a fun fact, "Did you know a baby's first instinct is a fear of falling?" (18:02). ❌

Two-Face threatens Jon with a "I'll kill you!" and Jon barks back "You said "I"! That's a breakthrough! One of you is taking charge!(18:10). A breakthrough is another word for a milestone in therapy. But really him calling it a "breakthrough" I don't think should be taken at face value for... Obvious reasons here. ❌❌

And finally, right before the session ends, our world renowned psychologist says "Come on now. You simply need to agree upon a strategy before it's too late" (18:24). Which I mean, he's making light of the situation and how easy it sounds (in theory) for Harvey to have both his halves work together. Definitely not an empathatic approach like you'd want from a therapist.❌❌❌

In conclusion:

Just as with his first second? session with Harvey, Jonathan demonstrates good skills as a therapist, but misuses those skills repeatedly. Again, he ignores ethics and purposefully causes distress to his clients, being even worse about it than the first session somehow. At least in the first session you could argue that he made some attempt to follow standard therapy room procedure up until a point. Here though? Definitely not.

In fact just to overview everything that happens in the session, because it's a bit much to process all at once:

Harvey goes to do this exercise blindfolded, not being told what's happening until he's already outside the window. Jon goes on this whole "trust me" spiel and Two-Face points out they were told to co-operate.

Jon talks about his drug JoyCure and how it's stopped Harvey's conflicted feelings. He then tells Harvey to remove the blindfold and report how he's feeling.

He then suggests/outright tells Harvey to do increasingly dangerous stunts. You could argue this is gradual exposure therapy, but done in the worst way possible.

After he gets Harvey to walk the flagpole, Jon tells Harvey he can come back whenever he's ready. During this he's very vocal and clear on what Harvey should do. Harvey can't make a decision, Jon knows this.

Harvey shits the bed because it turns out the real fear he has is over making a decision for himself. Jon knew this the whole time, and knew that JoyCure wouldn't help with that. Suddenly the method of therapy used has shifted to become flooding therapy.

Jon absolutely refuses to assist Harvey during any of this when it comes to overcoming his fears. The session only ends because Jon's secretary calls him.

So what can we get from this beyond our wonderful analysis subject being absolutely atrocious as a therapist? Well two major things stand out.

Firstly, that Jon knew from the beginning how everything would play out. He knew how JoyCure would affect Harvey and to what extent it would. He knew that "the fear that defines" Harvey was decision making, and he most likely figured this out this from as early on as the first session if one remembers how that went. Everything from beginning to end was elaborately set up in the session to make Harvey face his defining fear head on. This plays out very similarly to the first session- Jon steered everything in the direction he wanted it to go in just to make Harvey acknowledge his fears.

Thing is though, this premise has some... Interesting implications if one looks at what Jon talks about at the start of the session. Now granted I did try saying that Jon was speedrunning therapy last part of this analysis series. That idea still stands imo shitposty as it is. But to add to it though, to focus on how Jon apparently "talked about trust" before the session began. Two-Face responded that they were told to co-operate though rather than trust, and unless it's a situation where Harvey Two-Face misinterpreted something that was said, chances are he was just told to go along with it not that he has a choice. Trust was also mentioned first session too, where Jon explains that establishing a bond of trust would be the best way for him to help Harvey, and that translates to him removing Harvey's coin. Hell, Jon even tells Harvey "I think we're gonna make excellent progress if you just put your trust in me" as early as their first meeting (S2, E4, 33:04).

So what might this all mean? Just going off of the two sessions observed so far, Jon's method of doing therapy is to seek out what main fear makes a person tick, then try and get the person to acknowledge and/or face it head on whether they'd like to or not. His idea of "trust" is just having a person be unable to (or at the very least, not likely to) resist. As for his intentions about all this... That's honestly up for discussion. But! I'm hard pressed saying that none of it is him actually wanting people to overcome their fears. Not downplaying how terrible he is mind, but it'd be perplexing that a psychologist who would be only focused on traumatising clients (who can also uncover what a client is frightened by so rapidly too!) would still choose to try and get the client to recognise that fear in themselves rather than just, ya know, not telling the client their deepest fears and scaring the heebie jeebies out of them. He even goes as far as to set up a session on a skyscraper to make an elaborate point about Harvey's defining fear. He tells Harvey beforehand what he needs to do in the session, and it isn't just doing everything he says: "I want you to cooperate with you". If Jon talks about "trusting him" it's bad news. He asks whether Skids trusts him during the infamous Stabberscotch scene too, again a moment where the person he's asking to trust him is forced to co-operate (S2, E4, 5:06), reinstating the point. That said, given Jon's belief that "fear sets limits on courage" (S2, E4, 4:15), I don't reckon that him wanting to see people overcome fear is out of any streak of benevolence as much as him just wanting to see how far that person's fear goes. The possibility they might be able to overcome the fear might be the real enticing thing for him.

Second major thing that stands out, that this JoyCure thing he put Harvey on. It stops Harvey from feeling his fear of heights but not his fear of making decisions. As for why, I wager it's because JoyCure is a drug that causes feelings of euphoria and dulls basic fear caused by instinct, but it doesn't help at all with fears you actively think about.

If you're really confused right now by what I mean I don't blame you, but it'll make sense.

At the beginning of the session, Jon uses the co-operation talk to segway into rambling about conflict. According to him, everyone feels conflict, and Harvey is just a step up from that. Conflict is caused by fear, and "When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict and there are casualties." (12:13). Harvey is on the drug, and he seems hunky-dory, not arguing with himself, but then again he doesn't have to: Jon is giving him instructions rather than making him do anything on his own. His fear of heights seemingly vanished, he doesn't feel even slightly nervous being asked to dance or walk a flagpole so high up. But, again, he's being told to do this. In fact, remember I mentioned earlier that Jon gave a fun fact, "Did you know a baby's first instinct is a fear of falling"? That's the thing, Jon is saying here (whether intentionally or not) that a fear of heights is hardwired into us from birth. Harvey's fear of it isn't unusual at all, but JoyCure prevents him from feeling that instinct anyway. And to elaborate further, "When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict", but Harvey is scared of heights, scared he might fall off because the height will harm him, and he's on a skyscraper so it's true. There is no inner conflict in knowing his feelings are unfounded, because they are.

So overall, if I'm right with this idea anyway self-preservation while on JoyCure goes functionally out the window. You'd normally get nervous putting your hand near a hot stove tops for example, knowing you'd get burnt, but if you took JoyCure you wouldn't feel any nerves at all about it. To again quote Jon, "Fear is a furnace which must be fed. What I have done is empty your mental coal tinder" (14:22) talking about how the drug works, that whatever "tinder" is there (in this case instinctive fear) is emptied. So, I suppose, consciously fearing is the equivalent of adding tinder again? I mean, Harvey starts feeling fear because he consciously has to make a decision, he has to think about it actively and worry actively, rather than just have the fear be reflexive like it would be dealing with something dangerous. I imagine because of this the drug also wouldn't work as a treatment for anxiety disorders. Very Sadge 💔

FINAL SCORE FOR THE SESSION:

🎊 1/10 🎊

How the hell Jon got worse than first session I have no idea but here we are. The extent of his therapy here is using psychological theory to prove a point to his clients that they're terrified of making decisions on their own. Elaborate and impressive! He probably spent more time planning how this session was gonna go than actually doing what's expected of him as a therapist.

This man does not care about ethics, client's feelings or whether his sessions might kill a man.

In fact he knows his sessions might kill someone. He plans them out after all:

"When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict and there are casualties"

#Batman #Batman the Audio Adventures #BTAA #BTAA Scarecrow #Scarecrow #Jonathan Crane #text post #analysis #Character analysis #How good is Scarecrow at therapy really?

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angeamant · 30 days ago

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my disappearance ♡

hiii this is cynthia most commonly known as gentlehue/jgracie/irlangelics <3 i wasnt gonna make a post like this for reasons i'll go thru under the cut but after having three of you reach out to me on pinterest i thought it'd be unfair to leave everyone in the dark 💗 tagging @luvusrry @findmeonvenus / @daystarpoet and @bloodwrittenletters thank u for checking up on me lovelies xx

okay so the main reason i deactivated yesterday was because i realised being on here was negatively impacting my productivity LOL as you all probably know (because i never shut up about it) im in my second to last year of high school and everything i do now and next year is what has the largest impact on what uni i get into which then has a pretty big impact on where i end up in the future basically LMAO 😭 my life is so busy these days between doing the whole ib itself which im still getting used to since the british system is so structured and tells you exactly what to do in comparison to ib where a lot of it is you doing your own thing & prepping for uni by researching diff courses and the lnat which is an exam i'll have to sit in order to apply to study law & also getting back into all my extracurricular/picking up new ones which is another thing i have to get used to since im SUCH an academically oriented person & a BUNCHHH of other things i wont be getting into rn 😭 and so i cannot afford to be lounging around in any way whatsoever right now!! this is the socmed app i spend the most time on and i tend to tell myself its ok cause im not replying to notifs im just scrolling which is so silly LOL but i need to eliminate that from my life soooo i left

a mini second reason why i left is smth thats gonna be rly hard for me to explain here & im pretty sure probs has smth to do w my ocd (another thing i dont rly like to talk ab that much so idk how many of u know this) but i have this thing where if something negatively impacts me or like if i have a negative association w it it becomes "imperfect" and i acc cannot have it around me like it physically disgusts me and i cant function or think or anything 😭 and thats what was happening w my tumblr account because of how it caused me soooo much procrastination and so little work done 😣 soz if this doesnt make any sense or if its weird but its smth ive had for years now and am slowly working on 😭 my perfectionism is so horrible too and tumblr makes it worse cause im always overthinking what my feed looks like 😫 like i cant have too many talking posts or too many asks or too many reblogs and im always doing them in a way that balances it out in my head and i spiral so bad over it 🙁

ANOTHER reason (wow lots of reasons) is cause ive begun to enjoy my real life so so much these days and dont want to be distracted by being online 😭 i love my friend group i love sixth form i love having a crush i love it all! a lot of my friends r graduating this year as well and so i probs wont be seeing them as often afterwards cause obvs theyre not all applying to unis in our city let alone our country !!! i dont wanna take this year for granted at ALL cause i'll so regret it if i do :(

the second thing im addressing is why i left w out saying anything LOL basically i knew if i posted smth and said my goodbyes i wouldn't commit to it at all 😭 and i need to seriously be disciplined w myself these days if i wanna be rich and traveling the world in 10 years 🫡

i dont know if i'll ever come back but im so so happy i got to know u all whether u knew me from jgracie or discovered me later on after i abandoned her im so glad i got to call u my lovely friends :) i carry a piece of you all wherever i go ♡ you know you'll always know me! i wont deactivate this account but i wont be active on it either unless i decide to fully come back, but if u send me an ask within this week i'll answer it xx

for those of you who are worried about my fics on jgracie, i made a backup account back in the summer and everything ive ever written is reblogged over there :) @cynarchives

#love yewwwww

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maximoffcarter · 6 months ago

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Is it over? - Part 2.

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x reader.

Summary: Second part of Is it over?. After Emily's death, it was hard for the team, and specially for y/n to cope. As they try to find Declan, more things come to light, and an unexpected person makes their return.

A/n: Second paaaart! I was seriously thinking if I'd do a second part or not to this, but I am happy with the results. I knew that posting this story would come with you beautiful people asking for a part 2 cause why would we want more angst for our beautiful Emily, right? So here it is😌 I hope you guys enjoy this, if you got any requests for Emily, send them my way😌 Leave comments, hearts, whatever you’d like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

Part 1.

*not my gif*

Seven months. It had been exactly seven months since Emily had passed away, and there was not a day where y/n didn’t think about her or missed her. Hotch had offered a whole month of vacation, so she could take her time to process things and to be able to clear her mind, but she had only taken two weeks, and in those two weeks, she had gone with Garcia and Morgan to clean Emily’s apartment and take everything back to her apartment. Y/n had tried her best to remain calm and show everyone that she was okay, but deep inside she knew the struggle she had. It wasn’t every single day that they spent the night at each other’s apartments, at times, it happened that they were able to spend the night together, other times they were away and sometimes they were not lucky enough to end up in the same room together, but in all of these months, y/n had a hard time sleeping to the point where she had to take sleeping pills to be able to help herself.

Hotch had made the call for her to see a therapist, Hotch had already talked to everyone in the team by Strauss’ orders, and when Hotch mentioned seeing a professional, y/n didn’t argue back, she just agreed. She knew she needed it, she knew she needed someone to talk to, the team had seen enough of her weakness, and she wanted everyone to think that she was okay, and she had started to move on. Y/n had made Hotch promise that it would stay between them that she had gone to a professional, and he had agreed, which y/n had noticed that he had only agreed because he knew that this whole thing with Emily had been a hard thing for her, but well, she would accept it as long as he wasn’t on her back every day, she’d accept anything. Spencer had been the one who had spent most of his time with y/n and JJ, even y/n had gone with Spencer to JJ’s house, and to be honest, Henry was one of the reasons y/n kept smiling too, they had become so close that y/n couldn’t help but want to be there every single day.

It was no lie that she had her bad and good days, more bad than good, but she wouldn’t admit that. At times she didn’t even know if she should be truthful to her therapist and just pretend like she was having a good day just so she could discharge her and things could slowly go back to normal, but she also couldn’t deny that talking to someone about this whole thing helped her more than anything. But today specially, it had been a really bad day. After getting back from a case, y/n found herself going back to her apartment, it was early in the morning, perfect timing to take a shower and go to bed to sleep all day. But as she got out of the shower, she got a notification on her phone, a reminder that today, they had planned a trip. She had planned a trip with Emily for her birthday. And she was now gone. Her birthday was tomorrow.

Her eyes got teary as she remembered the joy in Emily’s voice as y/n mentioned a trip with her for her birthday. They were supposed to go on a trip too for her birthday, but she had spent all day at JJ’s house with the rest of the team. And today, she was supposed to go on that trip with Emily, and by tomorrow, they’d already be at their destination, just having a day for them. She threw her phone on the bed and started sobbing uncontrollably, feeling her chest tightening as she dropped to the floor. Why did this happen? Why it had to be Emily? Why couldn’t she get there sooner? All the questions returned to her mind as she sobbed, wrapping her arms around her legs, holding them closer to her chest. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, but next thing she knew, she felt arms wrapping around her, startling her for a moment before she heard the soothing voice against her ear.

“You’re okay, I’m here.” JJ whispered softly as she held y/n tighter.

Y/n sobbed quietly as she turned in JJ’s arms and buried her face in the crook of her neck. “JJ…” she whispered softly as small sobs left her lips.

“I got you.” JJ said in a whisper as she kissed her head.

They stayed like that for a while, until at some point y/n started shivering noticing that she was still in just a towel and her hair was still dripping. Y/n sniffled as she pulled away slowly from JJ, looking up at her. “I should uh…I should get dressed.” She chuckled softly.

JJ nodded softly as she offered a smile, helping y/n stand up from the floor. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Coffee?”

Y/n nodded softly as she smiled. “You can look around, I’ll be out soon.”

JJ nodded again as she walked out of the room. Y/n sighed softly as she went ahead to get ready. JJ had been the only person who had seen y/n break like this. She had been the one checking on her daily, not leaving her side. Not that the rest of the team didn’t check on her, it had also been really hard for Spencer to process, so he had also spent most of his time with y/n. Y/n sighed softly as she finished brushing her hair and walked out of her room to meet JJ, who had already put some waffles in the toaster and was now doing some bacon. Y/n smiled softly as she sat on one of the stools as she looked at JJ.

“Why would you come here when we just got back from a case?” Y/n smiled.

JJ chuckled as she turned to put the bacon on a plate and shrugged. “Henry is at my mom’s, Will left for work before I even got home. Thought you could use some company.” She smiled as she looked at y/n. “And I also kind of needed it.” She went to grab the coffee, placing it in front of y/n.

Y/n tilted her head. “It’s been 7 months, JJ.”

“And I found you sobbing on the floor.” JJ raised her brow as she went for the waffles.

“It’s a bad day, you know I have those.”

“And I’m here for the bad days too. You don’t have to hide from me like you hide from the others.” JJ walked around the kitchen island and placed a plate in front of y/n, sitting down next to her.

Y/n sighed as she looked at the food in front of her. “Tomorrow is her birthday, you know?”

JJ nodded. “I know. Spencer wants to buy a cake for him and for Emily.”

Y/n shook her head. “I cannot imagine how hard this is for Spencer.” She said softly as she picked up her mug.

“Just as hard as it is for you.” JJ smiled softly as she placed her hand on y/n’s free hand. “We’ll go together. The whole team already signed up for it.” She grinned a little.

Y/n chuckled softly as she nodded. “Of course they did. What would I do without you guys?” She grinned as she turned to look at JJ. “Thank you. Seriously. You don’t have to do all of this, and yet, you’re the one who’s always here with me and for me. And I will always be thankful.”

“It’s nothing really. I love you, and I’ll always be here.” JJ smiled as she leaned in to kiss her head. “Now, let’s eat so we take a much needed nap, I’m exhausted. And yes, I plan on spending my day here with you.” She grinned softly.

Y/n chuckled softly as she nodded, rolling her eyes playfully. “Alright.”

********************

“So…” Y/n closed the door of Morgan’s office behind her and looked at both Morgan and Garcia. “What do you know so far?”

Morgan and Garcia stared at each other for a moment before Garcia looked back at y/n. “Uh…about what?”

Y/n tilted her head as she raised her brow. “Maybe the rest of the team wanna pretend that you guys are not doing anything, but I know you two.” She sighed. “So…you’re looking for Declan, aren’t you?”

Morgan sighed as he dropped the file he had in his hand and nodded. “We found him.”

Y/n’s heart stopped for a moment as she stared at Morgan. “Is he…is he okay?”

Morgan nodded as he offered a smile. “Emily made sure he was okay and had a good life. He’s in a good school, living with the person he grew up with.”

“But?”

Morgan sighed. “We know that’s not gonna last forever. Doyle could find him sooner or later.”

“So now the mission is to find him?”

Morgan nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’ll let me help you.”

“Y/n…” Garcia said softly.

“I will help.” Y/n snapped as she stared at them. “Yes, I wanna kill Doyle. If I see him I…” she nibbled on her lip as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if I see him face to face. But all I know…is that I want Declan to be safe. Emily worked hard to keep him safe.”

Morgan nodded. “Okay. But you gotta keep up with us, no games, Carter.”

Y/n grinned softly. “You got it, boss.”

Y/n knew maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea, she knew she has been thinking about this too much but never got the guts to do anything about it, and now that Morgan was a step ahead of her, she wanted to do this right. Not only was she at risk of losing her job if something went wrong, but she also didn’t know what she’d be capable of if she had Ian Doyle right in front of her. But so it went like that for around two months. Between Morgan and y/n, they’d go to Declan’s school to check on him and make sure he was safe. At times, y/n sat there in her car and stared at him, getting to see a bit of the kid he was and smiled at the thought of Emily doing anything and everything for him to be safe. That was Emily. That’s what she always admired from Emily, the dedication and empathy she had for the victims.

And then one day, it brought the memory of a conversation she had with Emily on a random rainy day at Emily’s apartment. They had been watching a movie, cuddling on the couch when all of a sudden, the power went off and they were left in the darkness. They both gathered all the candles that Emily had, and they stay cuddling on the couch, engaging in random conversations to keep each other busy.

“You know what JJ said?” Emily smiled softly as she ran her fingers through y/n’s hair. “She said that she saw me with kids…and the thought crossed my mind for a moment but…” she shrugged. “I don’t think so.” She chuckled.

Y/n sat up and sat down in front of Emily, smiling softly. “Why not?”

Emily’s brows furrowed slightly as she stared at her. “What? You…” she tilted her head. “…you’d consider it?”

“Kids?” Y/n smiled. “With you?” She shrugged. “Yes.” She nodded softly. “I mean…I’ve always liked kids and…I always imagined myself with kids. But the job…it just didn’t fit at the time.”

“But you’re willing to try?” Emily raised her brow curiously, waiting for her answer.

Y/n stared at her and smiled softly as she nodded. “JJ is right. I see you with kids and…” she shrugged. “I’d be lying to say that I haven’t thought about it.” She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “Too soon, right?”

Emily chuckled softly as she moved closer to y/n, placing her hands on y/n’s hips and pulling her into her lap, making y/n wrap her legs and arms around Emily’s waist and neck. “No…not too soon. Cause I’ve thought about it too.” She smiled softly.

Y/n’s smile widened as she leaned in and kissed Emily’s nose softly. “A little Emily wouldn’t be too bad…” She grinned.

“What if it’s a boy?” Emily raised her brow as she grinned. “Carter is a good name.”

Y/n furrowed her brows. “That’s my last name.”

“We could change it.” Emily bit her lip as she tried to hide her smirk.

Y/n’s heart stopped for a second as she stared at Emily, a silly smile appearing on her face. “Are you already proposing to me, Prentiss?”

Emily shrugged. “Just a thought.” She smiled. “Y/n Prentiss…sounds perfect to me.”

Y/n tilted her head and chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her lips softly. “It does.”

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears at the memory, but she pushed it away as she leaned back in her seat and noticed recess was done so he was going back inside. And so it went on like that for a while. But then everything changed when they figured out that Doyle was back and he knew where Declan was, which made things more complicated now in a way. It seemed like this whole thing was not really over yet.

********************

“Y/n, Morgan is going to take care of it.” JJ said as she followed y/n.

Y/n shook her head. “He already tried, and he said nothing. I’ll go in there and get it out of him.” She said while she rapidly walked to the interrogation room.

JJ sighed and grabbed y/n by the arm, stopping her. “Hey!” She looked into her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe this is not a good idea.”

Y/n scoffed. “Why? Because he killed the love of my life so all of you think that I’ll kill him? I know better than to do that, Jennifer. Our priority is finding Declan, whatever happens to Doyle, is the least important thing on my list.” She snapped as she went back to walking.

Y/n knew JJ was right, it wasn’t a good idea for y/n to go in there with Doyle, but they needed to find Declan sooner or later, and it was hard to believe that he really didn’t know where he was when they perfectly knew that they had seen him already, so no…she didn’t buy it. She walked into the interrogation room, her blood boiling as he stared back at her.

“Agent.” Doyle nodded his head as he stared at her.

Y/n took a deep breath as she stood leaning on the door, her arms crossed. “Where is he, Doyle?”

Doyle shrugged. “I already told the other agent. I have no idea.”

Y/n scoffed. “And you think I’ll buy it? We have footage of you driving by the house where he was staying. Try again.”

“I don’t know.” Doyle simply said. He then smiled. “You right. I did find him, after you guys did. I should’ve thought harder.” He chuckled darkly. “Our beautiful girl liked cul-de-sacs. I should’ve bought her one when I could.”

Y/n felt a shiver run down her spine as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to walk to him and beat him up, but she stopped herself. “Where. Is Declan.”

“I know you’re trying to scare me. This is your strategy and-“

“I couldn’t care less what happens to you. It is known that not only us were looking for you, and I have no doubt that there is at least someone who would love to have your head. So don’t test me.” Y/n snapped. “I only care about finding Declan.”

Doyle tried to hide his worry with a huff of a laugh, staring right at y/n’s eyes. “Ah. You the girl she went to visit the day before. The person she was protecting the most.” He grinned. “She meant more than just a simple coworker, right?”

Y/n’s breathing became heavy at the mention, trying to stay as calm as possible. “We’re not here to talk about me…or Emily. We’re here to talk about Declan.”

“Did you get enough of her? Or did I took her way too soon?” Doyle smirked. “Because let me tell you that…even if she was not who she said she was…she was really good in bed.” He laughed.

Before y/n could think twice of what she was going to do, she was by Doyle’s side and soon enough, she punched him right in the face. But before she could do anything else, Morgan had walked into the room and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of the room as y/n yelled at Doyle to go to hell. Y/n tried for Morgan to let go of her, but Morgan kept his grip tight until they were in the hallway, JJ following them and leaving Rossi and Strauss behind.

“Let go of me!” Y/n pushed Morgan away and turned to look at them. “Didn’t you hear what he said?!”

“Which is why I told you it was a bad idea, y/n.” JJ said softly, not trying to pick up a fight with her.

Y/n ran her hand through her hair as she tried to calm down. She shook her head as she felt tears in her eyes. “He knew…he…” she sighed as she nibbled on her lip.

Spencer walked to them and placed his hands on y/n’s shoulder. “Let’s go get some air.” He said softly as y/n turned to look at him.

Y/n looked back at Morgan and JJ. “I’m sorry.” She said softly before she followed Spencer to the rooftop. Once they got there, y/n shook her head as she looked at the sky for a moment, her hand finding her necklace. “I knew I’d lose it.”

Spencer looked at her and nodded. “But you still went inside.”

“I don’t know why.” Y/n sighed. “I do want to find Declan. I know Emily cared for him.”

“But you also want revenge for Emily.” Spencer simply said as he nodded, shrugging. “I get it.”

Y/n looked at Spencer and smiled softly. “Cases like this gets the worse of us, huh?”

Spencer nodded as he offered a small smile. “Apparently.”

Y/n raised her brow as she grinned playfully. “You’re not gonna make a smart comment? Quote? Story?”

Spencer huffed a chuckle as he shook his head. “I just thought we could use some fresh air.” He looked at y/n and smiled. “And that you needed a friend.”

Y/n smiled softly as she walked to him and leaned her head on his shoulder as she looked back at the sky. “You’re always right, Reid.” She said softly.

They stayed there for another twenty minutes or so, until they both got a text from JJ saying they were needed for a meeting. Y/n furrowed her brows and looked at Spencer but said nothing as they returned inside. Once they got there, y/n stared at Garcia with a confused look, no one really knew what was happening, which confused her even more. When Morgan walked in with JJ and Rossi, y/n knew that something was definitely not right, but she tried to stay as calm as possible as she crossed her arms. Finally Hotch walked in the room and told everyone to sit down, making y/n turn to look at JJ for a moment as she stood beside him, but she stayed where she was along with Morgan.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” Hotch said calmly, staring at all of them. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her.”

Y/n felt her heart drop as she stared at Hotch. “W-What?”

Hotch sighed softly as he looked down at the table. “She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know.”

Y/n felt dizzy at his words, gripping the back of the chair in front of her. “You…you’re saying…”

Garcia stared at Hotch with tears in her eyes, her voice weak as she spoke. “She’s alive?”

“But we buried her.” Spencer simply said. Everyone had confused looks at this point.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision.” Hotch said as he stared at me. “If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan snapped.

Y/n didn’t know where her eyes had started to water, her whole body trembling as she tried to process everything. She looked at JJ and suddenly everything made sense. “You knew.” She said almost in a whisper.

JJ swallowed as she stared at y/n. “Y/n-“

“You knew.” Y/n shook her head. “You…” she scoffed as she tried to avoid the tears to leave her eyes. She looked at Hotch and shook her head again. “How could you?”

“Oh, my God.” Garcia whispered softly.

Y/n furrowed her brows and turned to the door, her heart dropping as Emily stood there. Emily stared at everyone in the room until her eyes landed on y/n, a faint smile on her face, tears forming in her eyes. Garcia and Spencer were the first ones to stand up and walk to Emily to hug her. Y/n stared at Morgan for a moment and then her eyes went back to Emily. Her hand unconsciously went to her necklace as tears rolled down her face. She heard Emily’s voice, but it was like she was stuck in a dream, one of those dreams she’s had in the last seven months where Emily comes back and apologizes for leaving, and in the dream, she’s the happiest person, hugging her and kissing her and begging her to not leave again. But this was reality. She was here. They finally gave space for Emily to walk to Morgan and y/n, Morgan hugging her, a confused look on his face. And then there she was; right in front of y/n.

Emily had tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at y/n. “My love…” she whispered softly. “I am…so sorry.”

Y/n stared at her, tears rolling down her eyes. She shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes studying Emily, her face, her body, just all of her. “You’re alive.” She finally whispered.

Emily smiled sadly as she nodded. “Yes.” She whispered softly as she stepped closer, placing her hands on y/n’s cheeks, stroking them softly. “I’m here.”

Y/n felt like her chest was going to explode as she felt her touch. She tried her best not to pass out right there as she stared at her. But instead of what she did in her dreams, she took her hands and took them away, letting them go. She cleared her throat as she turned to look at Hotch.

“Do you need me?” Y/n simply asked, her voice lower than she expected.

Hotch stared at her and understood what she was asking. He shook his head. “No. In case we need you, we’ll call you.”

Y/n nodded softly before she walked away. Emily sobbed quietly as she tried to follow after her, but Rossi stopped her. “We need to find Declan right now.”

JJ looked at Hotch. “I’ll go.” She said quietly as she went after y/n. She tried to catch her before she walked to the elevator, grabbing her by the arm carefully. “Hey-“

“You knew!” Y/n turned to look at her, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed. “All this time…you fucking knew, and you didn’t say a thing.”

“You heard Hotch. It was for her safety, y/n. I would’ve told you if I had authorization, but-“

“Bullshit!” Y/n snapped as she sobbed, her bottom lip trembling. “You were there, JJ…you saw how I s-suffered.” Her voice broke as she spoke. “You saw me at my lowest and you didn’t think that it was a good idea to tell me the truth? She has been alive this whole time, I have been mourning her…I-“ she sobbed uncontrollably.

JJ tried to hold back her tears as she stepped closer to y/n. “Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Y/n shook her head. “Right.” She simply said before she entered the elevator and pressed the buttons to close the doors.

********************

“So…how angry is the team?” Emily asked as she walked with JJ.

JJ sighed. “They’re in shock.”

Emily stopped JJ and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if y/n is upset at you.”

JJ shrugged as she smiled. “We knew it would happen. She’s just…she’s overwhelmed. Confused even.” She shook her head. “She had it bad for a long time, Emily.”

Emily’s heart broke as she heard JJ, nodding her head softly. She cleared her throat as she tried to swallow back her tears. “You think…you think that she’ll…want to talk to me?”

JJ smiled sadly. “I don’t know. At least, not right now. I don’t think she wants anyone from the team.”

Emilly nodded, smiling sadly. “Thank you…for keeping your promise.”

JJ smiled. “It is really good to see you.” She chuckled softly as she wrapped her arm around her waist as they walked back to the team.

Emily knew this would happen. All of these months that she had been away, she kept thinking of the day where she’d finally be able to come back and find y/n again. Of course she hadn’t expected y/n to wait for her, she didn’t even know how long it would take until she could come back to the states, and if she was being honest, it had happened way before than she thought. For a moment, she wished and begged that things would be okay, of course they wouldn’t be perfect, but at least that they would understand why she did this. And in all honesty, they had taken that decision for her, not giving her the chance to even tell the close people in her life that she was alive. Yes, she had been upset, she had been mad about it, but there was nothing she could do in this case, so for a long time, she had to play another role. Every single day, every single night, y/n was in her mind, wishing she could just reach out to her and tell her everything, even if it meant that she’d be in trouble for it, and that had been her greatest mistake. And now…he didn’t even know if y/n wanted to see her or talk to her.

********************

Emily took a deep breath as she stood in front of y/n’s door. It was past midnight, and she was sure that this was a mistake, and she was supposed to be staying at a hotel but all that had been in her mind, had been y/n. It had been such an eventful day, very overwhelming, and she wished she could just walk in and hold y/n in her arms. She took another deep breath before she knocked on the door softly, nibbling on her bottom lip as she waited, hoping that y/n would open the door. She looked back and hoped that the neighbors wouldn’t wake up for the knocking or ask why she was here so late. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking that maybe y/n wouldn’t come to the door, thinking that it was anyone from the team, or even knowing that it was Emily, and she wouldn’t want to open the door and-

Y/n opened the door and felt her heart dropping as she stared at Emily. “Emily…” she whispered softly, her eyes on Emily’s.

Emily smiled a little. “Hi.” She whispered as she stared back into her eyes. “I uh…I’m sorry. I know it’s late and-“

“You just finished with the case.” Y/n nodded. “Morgan kept me updated.”

Emily nodded as she sighed. “Oh…well. Then you know what happened.”

Y/n nodded. “Are you okay?”

Emily nodded again as she smiled a little. “Declan is okay, which is…all that mattered.”

Y/n smiled a little. “I’m glad.” She said softly. She then looked around the hallway and knew perfectly that Emily was not just here to tell her that, so she decided to swallow back her feelings and let her in. “Come on.”

Emily’s heart warmed as she smiled, walking into the apartment. She looked around as she walked through the small hallway, noticing that nothing had changed. She then heard a meow, making her turn to the floor and her smile widened. “Serge!” She chuckled as she picked him up. “You kept him.” She looked at y/n as she walked to her.

Y/n smiled softly as she leaned over the wall. “P and I share custody.” She shrugged. “Since sometimes I need to leave, Penelope takes care of him. I decided to pick him up today.” She looked at Emily.

Emily sighed softly and kissed his head before putting him down and looking back at y/n, licking her lips nervously. “So…I don’t…there is so much to say.”

Y/n nodded as she crossed her arms. “There is.” She whispered softly as she looked down at the floor. “I…get why you did what you did.”

“But you’re still upset.” Emily said softly as she stared at her.

Y/n looked up at Emily and shook her head. “I’m not upset. At least…” she looked down at her hands as she cleared her throat. “…at least not anymore.”

Emily nodded. She didn’t say anything for a moment, taking in y/n’s appearance and feeling her heart sinking as she noticed the redness on her face and the puffy eyes. And then her face softened as she noticed the necklace. “You still using it.” She smiled softly.

Y/n looked up at Emily and then at the necklace. She chuckled softly as she grabbed it, smiling softly. “I never take it off.” She said softly as she looked back up at Emily. “You gave it to me…it was…one of the only things I had to hold on to you.”

Emily felt her eyes getting teary as she looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. “I’m so sorry, y/n…” she whispered softly, her voice cracking slightly. “I never…if I had had the chance…I’d have told you.”

“You called.”

Emily looked up at y/n, her lips parting slightly. “I…yes.”

Y/n nodded as she smiled sadly. “The first time the phone didn’t register the call and it said unknown. And the other times…I noticed the number and I didn’t recognize the code.” She huffed a chuckle. “I asked Penelope, and she told me it was from Paris. I told her to ignore it and drop it.”

Emily nodded. “You blocked it.”

“No one ever answered anyway.” Y/n shrugged as she smiled.

Emily smiled. “I wanted to.”

“I bet.” Y/n nodded as she just stared at Emily.

Emily tilted her head as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “I made JJ promise that she’d take care of you. That’s why she was with you this whole time. And I know that…you’re…”

“Hurt.” Y/n interrupted her, feeling her eyes getting teary again. “I’m hurt that…this whole time…she was the one who saw me at my lowest. She was here when I was sobbing and holding your clothes, looking at your pictures. I went to her house, and we stayed in her room as I sobbed because something reminded me of you. She went with me to your…grave…whenever I wanted to go.” I shrugged as tears rolled down my eyes. “And the thing is…that I understand. I understand all of it and I dreamt so many times of you showing up at my door, telling me you were sorry but that you were back. And I’d hug you, and you’d hold me close, and I’d kiss you…and it would feel so real.” She sobbed softly. “And I wanted to do that when I first saw you. I’m…I don’t know how to feel, Emily. I am so confused. I don’t even know if I’m mad at you. God, I was so upset when I found out about everything. But I was so worried. And I was upset that you were gone.” She shook her head as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the floor.

Emily took a deep shaky breath as she walked to her, raising her hands to touch her but then backing away, not sure if it was the right move. “I wanted to tell you everything. I swear I wanted to. But if I had…you would’ve been more at risk. I couldn’t let him know about you. I couldn’t…I couldn’t let him get to you.” She felt tears running down her cheeks as she stared at y/n. “I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect the team.”

“You could’ve actually died, Emily!” Y/n snapped as she looked up at her. “I saw you bleeding! You were dying and I couldn’t even hold you because I was scared if I moved you, you’d bleed out! You…” she sobbed as her voice cracked.

And then she tried to push Emily, but Emily placed her hands on her shoulders, and then she started hitting her chest, not hard enough to hurt her and not for long. Emily wrapped her arms around her and held her close to her, cradling her to her chest. Y/n sobbed uncontrollably, gripping Emily’s jacket as she buried her face on her chest. Emily couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks, sobbing quietly as she kissed y/n’s head softly, her hand gently stroking her head, her fingers running through the strands in a soothing motion. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, neither of them saying a thing. Y/n closed her eyes as she heard Emily’s heartbeat, helping her calm down.

“I missed you…” Y/n whispered softly, small sobs leaving her lips.

Emily kissed her head again, her lips lingering there for a moment. “I missed you too. So much.” She sighed softly as she closed her eyes. “I missed you terribly. I am so sorry, baby. I am deeply sorry.”

Y/n sniffled as she wrapped her arms around Emily, nuzzling her face in the crook of her neck. “At least you got the vacation Rossi told you about.” She mumbled softly, a faint chuckle leaving her lips.

Emily chuckled softly, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Her smile then fainted slowly as she thought about it. “But you were not there.”

“We can always fix that.” Y/n said softly, pulling away enough to look up at Emily.

Emily looked at her, her face softening as she smiled, her face falling to her cheek to stroke it softly. “You…you forgive me?”

Y/n smiled softly. “There is so much we need to talk about…but Em…I cannot lose you again. I can’t.” Her voice cracked as she spoke the last words, looking right into those beautiful brown eyes that she missed.

“You’re not gonna lose me. I’m here to stay. I’m not going anywhere.” Emily smiled softly as she looked into her eyes.

Y/n smiled softly as she nodded. “I’ll find you if you ever leave again. Garcia and I won’t let you get away.” She grinned playfully.

Emily tilted her head, chuckling softly. “I don’t ever want to go. I’m here to stay.” She smiled softly, her eyes darting down to her lips for a split second before they returned to her eyes.

Y/n bit her lip softly as she smiled. “Do it.”

Emily furrowed her brows. “What?”

Y/n smiled softly before she leaned in and pressed her lips gently against Emily’s, a soft and yet firm kiss being placed on her lips. Emily smiled against her lips before she kissed her back, her stroking her cheek softly as y/n’s hands were placed on her back, pulling her close against her body. The kiss was gentle, sweet, it wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was like they just needed to feel each other’s lips, slowly dancing against each other’s, and that was it. As they pulled away, Emily couldn’t help the goody smile spread on her lips, a soft chuckle falling from her lips as she leaned her forehead against y/n’s.

“Yeah…I wanted to do that but didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.” Emily chuckled softly.

Y/n smiled, pecking her lips softly. “Like I said…I’ve wanted to do it since I first saw you.” She then tilted her head and raised her brow. “Unless…you have someone waiting on you in Paris.”

Emily laughed softly and shook her head. “You know I…” she scoffed. “All these months, I was scared that maybe you’d decide to move on and…once I was back…you would be happy with someone else.” She stared into her eyes. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, though.”

Y/n smiled softly, rolling her eyes playfully. “I, instead, spent all these months ugly crying on your favorite hoodie and then was upset because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” She grinned playfully.

“Oh, poor baby.” Emily said as she laughed. She leaned down again and kissed her lips softly. “I know there is so much we need to talk about but…do you think I could stay with you tonight?”

Y/n raised her brow playfully. “Is it too soon to talk about you moving in with me?”

Emily’s eyes light up at her words, her smile widening. “Not soon at all.” She giggled and leaned down to kiss her lips again.

For the next two hours or so, they both talked about everything that had happened while Emily was gone. Emily mentioned some of the things she did back in Paris, and then what was a serious conversation at first turned into a comfortable and sweet conversation, making up for lost time. Y/n knew deep down, she was still somehow hurt and maybe a little upset, but the fact that she had Emily back, that all of those dreams she’s had came true, made her realize that even if she still had a mess of feelings, she was happy to have her back, and this time she wouldn’t let her go so easily. Before they knew it, they were wrapped around each other’s arms and fast asleep, and for the first time in months, both of them had the best sleep.

********************

After being suspended for the events with Ian Doyle, y/n and Emily took a much needed time for themselves, ignoring phones and any technology, just spending their time with each other. They decided it was best if they looked for another place, start over, and so they made it their mission to find the perfect place for them. When they got called to court, both were nervous about the teams reactions, knowing that they were still shocked and a bit upset about Emily, and y/n hadn’t actually talked much to them. As Emily went in, y/n talked to Spencer for a while, until she saw JJ walking to them, offering a small smile as she approached y/n. Spencer noticed the hint and walked away, joining Rossi and Morgan.

JJ smiled softly as she stood in front of y/n. “I thought I wouldn’t get to see you today.”

Y/n shrugged. “I heard they’ll get us all inside at some point. So, you would’ve seen me inside.” She smiled softly. “JJ…”

“I’m sorry.” JJ said rapidly. “Emily and I wanted to tell you. I begged them to let me tell you, But they-“

“JJ, I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. I know why you did what you did, and I forgive you. I’m sorry I just snapped and didn’t let you talk.” Y/n titled her head as she smiled. “You were there for me, and you never left my side. Emily told me all about it.”

JJ smiled. “So I take it you guys are okay?”

“More than okay.” Y/n smiled softly. ‘We’re looking for a new place.”

JJ clapped softly as she chuckled. “I’m so happy you guys are okay. I’m so happy for you.”

Y/n chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around JJ, hugging her tightly. A few hours more passed before they were back in the BAU, everyone waiting to hear from Strauss if they were free to go or if they were in more trouble. But then, Strauss broke the news that they were okay, and that Emily had to do with it, and to their surprise, Emily was offered back her job, which didn’t take her long to accept. Even if Emily knew that it would still take the team some time to adjust to her again and to forgive her for what had happened, Emily was willing to do anything to gain their trust back, and she was just happy to be able to be reunited with her family again.

Y/n closed the door behind her and walked to the living room where Emily was not sitting with Sergio beside her. She chuckled softly as she leaned over the couch. “He missed you.”

Emily looked up at her and smiled. “Guess he did.” She raised her brow playfully and patted her lap.

Y/n chuckled softly as she made her way to Emily, sitting on her lap with her legs on either side of Emily and wrapping her arms around her neck. “Hi.”

Emily chuckled as she looked up at her, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Hey there.” She smiled.

“So tomorrow we have an appointment at two. We got enough time to have a lazy morning.” Y/n grinned softly as she leaned down to kiss her nose softly and then kiss her cheeks.

Emily chuckled and nodded. “Perfect.” She leaned in and kissed her softly, smiling against her lips. “You know I love you, right?” Y/n raised her brow at her words, making Emily laugh. “I am going to say it more often, so get used to it.”

Y/n chuckled as she leaned down to kiss her lips. “I love you more. Thank you for coming back to me.”

Emily smiled and nodded. “Always, my love.” She kissed her lips again, pulling her closer to her, not leaving any space between them.

After months of insufferable pain, late nights, long days, etc., Emily could finally say that this was over. She was back to the place where she belonged, she was back with the love of her life and there was nothing else she could ask for. It was finally over.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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