#and then the other half of their relationship giving her the cold shoulder

[solecize]

  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (6)

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time  ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes. ten years of lies and love and crawling back to one another. once shy, budding first love that blossomed before the weight of fame, the cracks begin to surface amidst your respective rises to stardom and navigation of your twenties. either finding euphoria or the end of the world, there's never any in between in existence for you and jungkook. as you build each other up and break each other down in front of millions of eyes, there is a crossroads ahead with words of "marriage" and "military" looming in the air - all while ignoring the price of fame breathing down your necks. this is the story of love and the lessons learned from the man you made your religion.  and i wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people-pleaser who only wanted you to see her

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jungkook picks up the pieces of the mess he made, as he looks back on his choices and the people he surrounded himself with. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. PLEASE DON'T EXPECT HAPPINESS, portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. hi welcome back everyone!! it's been a very long time since the last update and i just really wanted to push something out, so hopefully this doesn't seem super rushed because it was important for me to get over my writing slump:) ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here!

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every mornin' i glared with you with storms in my eyes how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: are bts' jungkook and s.iren's nova the new power couple of the entertainment industry? positive reception indicates rare acceptance of idol relationshipㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   may 2018

jungkook was still so young, but as he examined his appearance in the mirror, he couldn’t help but notice the way age settled beneath his skin. one couldn’t tell by first glance, but his eyes were old and tired. it was difficult to remember the last time they lit up with a spark, rather than sitting half lidded and apathetic. his lips were fixed into a permanent frown when he was away from the cameras, despondent like worn out leather. nothing could cut through the fabric, especially not now. he was reminded of this, as his manager read out his schedule for the day and several stylists picked at his dark hair that fell just above his eyes now. his shoulders drooped further when he heard your name amongst the activities laid out for him.

“the red carpet begins at seven, your and y/n’s car will arrive at approximately seven twenty four - not too late, not too early that nobody will be there.”

this was the first public event that the two of you were scheduled to attend as a couple. of course, that was nerve wracking enough, but it didn’t help that you were still giving him the cold shoulder. he didn’t expect anything else and any blame would be misplaced, but it was worrying to look forward to feigning happiness for the cameras. he knew you like the back of his hand and you were a horrible liar. he knew every quirk at the corner of your lips when you smiled and the way a crease formed between your eyebrows when you grew frustrated. jungkook was one of the only people who noticed the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you got nervous and how you looked at people’s ears instead of their eyes when you got shy. 

once upon a time, he would say that it was because you were his. now, you weren’t and he was just some stranger who knew every inch of you with his eyes closed.

jungkook hated himself for what he did to you and what he hated even more was that the world continued to spin regardless. his members, some oblivious to jungkook’s betrayal and others simply just suspicious of his faithfulness to his girlfriend, continued treating their youngest member as usual. seokjin and jimin gave him the hardest time, as the former was genuinely the most disappointed in jungkook and gave him a week-long cold shoulder after yelling at him, while jimin had to bear witness to the dramatic confrontation at hotel azure. however, there was no choice but to simply condemn jungkook’s actions and move on - they were still a unit whose careers relied on each other. they were also brothers at the end of the day and disagreeing with one person wouldn’t break their bond. 

besides, it was clearly a sensitive topic for jungkook, despite the mass of guilt weighing his body down with every breath he took. no one heard from him for days following the dispatch article, presumably locked up in his apartment and drinking his consciousness away. everyone knew about his growing drinking problem, but were shocked to see the extent of it when they finally confronted him.

“i don’t think you should be the one crying and hiding,” muttered hoseok, who led the charge in recovering jungkook after everyone got fed up with him ghosting anyone who tried to reach him.

it was the eldest four of the group who broke into his home, just several hours prior to their flight to tokyo for a weekend-long event. this was after the first few days since the news broke and since anyone saw him in person. seokjin, although refusing to speak to jungkook, brought food for him, while namjoon and hoseok physically dragged him out of bed and yoongi forcibly went through his belongings to pack clothes on his behalf. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” was all jungkook could make out and it wasn’t clear if he was referring to the fact that he wasn’t cooperating or the situation with you as a whole. it also wasn’t clear if his hoarse speech was due to being under the influence or from crying. 

yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, watching his members push jungkook into his washroom to get himself decent. “this. . .this is pathetic,” he said, as there were no other words to describe the scene. 

at least namjoon managed a sympathetic expression on his features. “he keeps saying over and over again that he’s sorry.”

and that was all jungkook knew. that he was sorry. that he had never made such a mistake in his life. he also knew that he had no explanation or excuse, no matter how he rationalized his actions to himself in the past few months. jungkook couldn’t figure out how he even did such a thing, until yoongi stopped him in his tracks, just before the five of them departed jungkook’s apartment. 

jungkook nearly lost balance, as his head hung low as he walked and dragged his suitcase behind him. the others looked on from the hallway, upon noticing that yoongi paused in front of jungkook before he could close the front door behind him.

“your pockets. empty them, kook.”

yoongi knew before jungkook even realized that he brought it along. it was simply second nature and that was the problem. if it was even possible for further shame to illuminate in his dark eyes, jungkook made sure to cut his gaze away to avoid his older friend’s fiery one. without a word of protest, jungkook reached into the side of his jacket and revealed a flask, which he tossed on the floor behind him. 

that was two weeks ago. it wasn’t much to be proud of, but jungkook swore on sobriety since then. 

that meant it was also over two weeks since he saw you in person. even though it felt like forever, he knew it didn’t mean jack shit to you, who he knew hated him. the look in your eyes when you begged your company to not have anything to do with him, was something he could never forget. he wanted to scrub it off his skin until it was raw. the shame jungkook felt overwhelmed him to the point where he knew he wasn’t even worthy to feel guilt. he was embarrassed for the man he became. 

however, the world kept spinning. nobody stopped to care for his problems or his mistakes, especially with the career he chose. jungkook was bts’ jungkook and people were relying on him - his fans, his group members, his company. nobody cared and he didn’t expect anyone to. 

he didn’t care about the world continuing to spin in spite of him - his thoughts were consumed with how you were doing as the sun continued to set and rise amidst your suffering. jungkook couldn’t even bear to look you up on social media or the internet. sure, he would be reminded of the insane predicament that your companies just placed on the two of you, but more importantly, jungkook knew that he had no place checking up on you. he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and weep, to patch up the deep wound he inflicted on you. when your companies made the publicity plan official, jungkook thought it was the heavens above granting him some sort of second chance at winning you back. 

yet, as he waited in a limousine, waiting for your arrival to drive over to this red carpet event, he was nervous. jungkook felt oxygen trapped in his throat, choking on the fear of facing you once more and it burned a deep hole in his body. he didn’t deserve this. you didn’t deserve this. 

over the past two weeks, you didn't know how else to deal with your emotions other than the only way you’d done so for years - by ignoring it and shoving it into the back of your mind. if anyone crossed paths with you, they would simply congratulate you on the successful relationship and ask to say hi to your new public boyfriend. you would plaster on a tight smile and thank the person through your teeth. 

the worst part was that no one even knew. even if they were present on that fateful night at hotel azure, any party attendee who saw the news could only assume that you were merely a spineless coward that crawled back to jungkook despite being publicly betrayed. you were defenseless and all of your walls were broken down.

it was an ironic thing, for the two of you to be so alone in the world and being pushed towards one another at the same time.

anyone could see that something was wrong, but it didn’t matter and no one dared to speak up. your makeup artist’s curious eyes were hard to miss, as she prompted for you to stop furrowing your eyebrows during the application of your foundation, but your pr manager’s cut eye from the corner of the dressing room silenced any questioning.

“how many times did you read it over?”

through gritted teeth, you responded, “seven.”

the stack of papers wedged between a flimsy plastic binder were just about as thick as your wrist and felt heavier that it actually was - likely because you were forced to carry it everywhere you went for the past few days. it was a collection of various documents relating to media and public relations, including the full-length version of your NDA with your company and bighit in relation to your coupling with jungkook. there was also a detailed guide to answering interview questions, how to stand next to one another, social media etiquette, and anything that could ever come up. hell, there was written practice on how to look at one another. 

ms. choi was the special pr manager assigned to all activities and releases concerning your public relationship. you had met her at the meeting with the board of directors at the bighit company building and she reminded you of a math teacher that you used to hate in school. domineering, always looking over your schedule, and sent shivers up and down your spine. she was not someone to be messed with and above all, she was extremely particular about how she wanted things done. anyone would be a fool to cross her - perfect for the role she was hired to do.

she required you to review the binder several times before all public appearances and it was exhausting. you also had an inkling that your beloved didn’t have the same treatment and your suspicions were confirmed when you crossed paths with him for the first time in weeks, bearing no papers or preparation of any kind in his hands.

instead, he was positioned at the farthest corner of the limousine when the door was opened for you, taking his own precautions against you.

jungkook’s stomach dropped when the vehicle came to a stop in front of the familiar sight of your company building. there was a ticking time bomb at the core of his ribs and it was an explosion to be set off as soon as he saw your shadowy figure approach through the tinted windows. even though he’d been doing everything in his power to brace himself, he still flinched when the door swung open.

his entire body turned cold with rage and guilt when his eyes fell on you. he imagined greek goddesses dripping in gold and glowing in divinity throughout the history of time, but they still wouldn’t hold a candle to you. it was difficult to pinpoint the source of such celestial haze - perhaps your appearance long muddled in self-hatred and anger since hotel azure and now a glistening memory being remembered before his very eyes. it was like learning a lost nostalgia, as if it had been more than mere weeks since laying eyes on you. the taste was bitter and he refused to deem himself worthy of such a thing, but if you picked at jungkook’s brain and held him against his will, it would be a whispered confession of falling in love all over again.

in a tint of twinkling champagne, you donned a floor length evening gown with a fitted, mermaid silhouette. the beaded sweetheart neckline hugged your torso and was accentuated with a sharper edge at your clavicle, before creating a bolder figure flaring out into an hourglass shape. your hair was slicked back into a wet look, as loose curls enhanced by waist-length extensions framed your face. the makeup chosen for the look was simple - a nude gloss, soft flush of pink blush and a sharp eyeliner wing. the star of the show was truly your dress, as just a pair of small gold drop earrings were your only accessory. 

thankfully, the dress wore you and not the other way around, as your misery was too loud to not be seen and so, the glamour of your attire created a successful camouflage. if anyone looked at you, they would only see your beauty and not your anguish - a heartbreaking curse on women who chased fame as their body of work. 

the curse almost snuck past jungkook, who initially was struck by your appearance, but then saw the way you bit the inside of your cheek. the way emptiness sunk behind your regard. the way you accidentally locked eyes with him and broke away immediately, as if letting a curse word slip or touching something too hot.

“ten minutes to arrival.” jungkook’s manager cut through the obvious tension in the air, thick as nectar.

you sat opposite of him, pretending to pick at your manicured nails after setting your binder next to you and in between his manager. the space was well-needed, as you could barely acknowledge any of his team in the limousine. 

jungkook replayed this moment prior to your arrival dozens of times in his head and in every version, he couldn’t even sputter out a polite greeting. he had no place. in this timeline, he, too, failed to say hello.

as the next few seconds progressed, those around you and jungkook were shifting in clear discomfort. jungkook wasn’t exactly prepared by any means, as his staff had barely been able to get him to respond with something more than a grunt and nod to any attempted interaction throughout the day. meanwhile, your team was watching you like a hawk, policing you like a child with your every move. 

naturally, someone from your side - thinking that they uncovered the secret key - reached into a compartment and pulled out a pristine bottle of cristal. 

with the hopes of easing the tension-filled air, she looked between the two of you and mused, “first public appearance together. drinks anyone?”

you were reaching for a flute already, even before jungkook could wave off the champagne. he didn’t miss the way several individuals in the car, including his own manager, exchanged shocked expressions at his decline. jungkook never said no to a drink before an event and it wasn’t rare for him to already show up slightly inebriated in the first place. 

for the first time, you willingly looked up at him, also taken aback. before his eyes could blink back to yours, you were already staring out the window and sipping slowly on your champagne. if you allowed yourself to let your thoughts linger too long on jungkook’s rejection of alcohol, it would mean you cared. meanwhile, he assumed you’d already gone through all sorts of emotions, likely the entire seven stages of grief. maybe you finally came to accept that you no longer needed jungkook in your life.

however, there were precisely four moments that altered everything.

moment number one occurred precisely twenty three minutes after your reunion with jungkook. at this point, he’d used up the entire time on the way to the event trying to not appear like he was sulking. thankfully, your managers began explaining the agenda for the night and several, firm reminders of do’s and don’ts for the camera. the conversation filled up the heavy, dreadful space lingering between you two in the car. 

though there was an obvious attempt to not come off as harsh, given the circumstances of clear torment between you, jungkook knew that this night was crucial. the two of you really needed to sell being a couple or face consequences that he couldn’t even imagine. this was your career at the end of the day and its fragile state laid in his hands.

so, before you knew it, the short ride was up and jungkook was greeted by the blinding lights of photographers at every angle possible, even before the car door was fully open. he knew to step out first and structure the perfect gentleman image, as this photo was surely going to be on every social media platform, every homepage, every magazine. the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and the only thing he could do was stretch a pearly white smile across his face.

“jungkook! jungkook, over here!” several reporters called out, ready like a cannon to fire away all the juicy questions in their arsenal since the relationship announcement.

throughout the past two weeks, the youngest member of bts wasn’t all that concerned with the actual publicity of the relationship. he was far too deep into grief to even consider the emotional toll that this new aspect of his job was going to have. he knew that he’d have to spend a generous amount of time with you, which was where the source of his anguish and guilt came from, but he nearly forgot how awful it was dealing with media in general. jungkook should have known that it was only going to get worse in the role he was now forced to play, as your public beau.

“jungkook! how’s y/n?” one reporter kept repeating over and over, wildly waving with one hand to get his attention.

another yelled, “jungkook, how does it feel to be the most searched term with y/n for fifteen days straight?”

while the screams were loud upon jungkook’s appearance, a hushed anticipation floated in the air. some expected other bts members to appear behind him. the crowd couldn’t even dream of the presence of jungkook’s newly official girlfriend, but as soon as one golden heel hit the velvet carpet, the floor nearly rumbled at the volume of yells. 

this time, there was no choice but to hold a fixed gaze for longer than two seconds with one another, as your figure fully emerged from the limousine and met the blinding lights. the real job had begun and it was evident by the sudden smile mirrored on your face. it took jungkook aback, as he had been replaying your devastated expression at hotel azure over and over again for weeks. he was shackled to those memories of tears in your eyes - by the pool, in the elevator, at the bighit building.

“ready?” 

it took a second to process that you were actually talking to him, as he did a double take. you arched a single, perfect eyebrow at him, as if he just told you a funny joke. one thing you always kept up was the fact that you insisted you were the funnier one out of the two of you, often playing the dynamic of a straight man that refused to laugh. 

jungkook realized what you were doing - already portraying a different character for the cameras and it was one of a loving girlfriend that really wasn’t his. despite the heaviness in his chest, he had no choice but to play along, too.

he held out his arm for you and you gladly grasped it, looping your own through. although fans and reporters alike were still screaming at the top of their lungs, the touch of your hand on his arm nearly hurled jungkook back and to the ground. he forgot what it was like, to have your touch and to see your smile. moment one made him forget who he was and where he was, as if he was just yours once again. 

this single, seemingly mundane, snapshot of the night was immortalized within jungkook’s mind. it was a second that transported him back in time, almost mockingly. he decided right then and there that he would be chasing these moments for as long as he could.

there was a certain fear that settled in jungkook’s skin, wondering if he would forever have to deal with your silence behind the scenes or suffering through forced touches in front of the cameras. 

over time, it got better. when forced together in spaces like these, he was still too concerned with walking on eggshells around you to even try anything with you. he was too ashamed to talk to you, to laugh with you. there was always a safe distance between the two of you and jungkook made it a point to be as professional as possible.

the worst part was that he couldn’t read you at all. despite the fact that the two of you knew each other since you were practically kids meant nothing when the only face you wore was that of a stone cold expression. it drove jungkook crazy, especially when you so obviously feigned excitement or love when your job required you to. he watched puppet strings dictate every slight change of expression on your face and it felt like rocks in his stomach. 

this safe distance was easy to maintain when watchful eyes of staff members lingered at every schedule - until they didn’t.

moment two, unlike moment one with you on the red carpet, was approached with fear and uncertainty. jungkook was ill-prepared this time around, having thought that he was looking forward to a rare friday night off when his phone and ms. choi demanded his presence across the city in less than twenty minutes. unlike the jungkook he knew in himself from even just a month prior, he wanted nothing to do with anything if it wasn’t involving laying down in his bed for the whole night.

deep down inside, he knew he wasn’t a party animal. it was nothing he yearned for, but instead, the idea of losing a bit of reality for even just a few hours. down some drinks here, take some pills there. that was the lifestyle he learned from his group of “friends.”

the “friends” was in quotations because there were a select few people in his life that openly declared themselves jungkook’s real friends - his group members, a handful of the 97 line, and others. they were in mostly opposition to the circle that jungkook ran in outside of the, which included bored chaebols, influencers, producers and club promoters with the world at the palm of their hand. they found jungkook to be a cute little idol that could be used for clout. 

namjoon often warned jungkook about the people he surrounded himself with, but it was hard when they stuck to him like glue. it was as if he had his own little minions that enabled jungkook to do whatever he felt, as they crossed paths in every major city in the world. jungkook had his boys in los angeles, his connections in tokyo, the rich heirs of singapore. being constantly on tour and away from home was painful in every sense of the word, but he was able to numb it with the people around him.

that was the beginning of the end when it came to hurting when away from you.

surprisingly, jungkook avoided groupies. it was an easy trap for anyone blinded by the shining lights of fame to get lost in that world - maybe it had to do with his members and their own reservations regarding such a thing. while the company and management were strict, anyone could get their way if they were smart enough about it. regardless, it simply wasn’t the band’s prerogative to hook up with fans. instead, jungkook crumbled under pressure through other means.

it was a friday night like tonight, but he was certainly not laying down in bed. bts was in kyoto and celebrating their head choreographer’s birthday at a dingy, hole in the wall nightclub. the walls reeked of nicotine and it was so small that he couldn’t make two steps in either direction without crashing into someone. jungkook made this very mistake and that’s how she ended up falling into his arms. from there, they laughed it off, drank too much, and ended up in his bed by the end of the night. 

the only reason why it even happened was because you uttered the words that jungkook thought he’d never hear: i hate you. the fight over the phone was about a multitude of things that was exacerbated by the distance placed between you two because of work and the fact that you were under the influence throughout the entire conversation, sipping on gin on the rocks as it progressed and became rowdy by the end of it as a result. you yelled the three words and hung up on jungkook, prompting him to also get completely wasted before attending the birthday party. he thought that was the end of it, as he heard the words that broke his heart in that moment. you were never one to pull your punches when it came to the harshness of your words, even calling him names in the past, but those three words were beyond anything else.

jungkook didn’t expect you to call him the morning after in tears, apologizing and wanting to make it right.

“dude, it’s not a big deal,” kelvin, one of jungkook’s buddies that was next in line to inherit some singaporean tech company, tried convincing him one night. 

at this point, it’d been a few weeks after the affair and he was starting to feel the guilt building. the tour was about to end, which meant coming home to his girlfriend. the feelings only began to haunt jungkook at night, when he stared up at the ceiling of whatever hotel he was staying at that night. they scraped at his insides with metal forks and jolted his senses like electricity when he dwelled too long about the betrayal he committed. 

“besides,” chimed in nina, another member of their inner circle that was sitting a little too close to jungkook. “you’ve been complaining about y/n for how long now?”

she was a tall and pretty model that looked like she was ready to pounce on the chance to be jungkook’s next hypothetical little secret. jungkook never looked at her like that, though. she’d been bordering on inappropriate closeness with him for nearing a year now and you had been warning him of this, which he ignored. then again, that was the way you were with every female that even breathed the same air as him.

admittedly, you were a bit possessive. for instance, there was no way in hell jungkook was allowed to have female friends while in a relationship with you. you had his location, he had yours - not because he was obsessive over it like you were, but because it only seemed fair. there were multiple instances of you picking fights with girls at parties or other social outings because they simply looked in jungkook’s direction. above all else, it was your way or the highway.

jungkook was a people pleaser and it was his fatal flaw that had an even weaker spot when it came to you. you were outgoing and some may call it flirtatious the way you cozied up to men and women. however, you were able to easily soothe your boyfriend with affectionate touches when he got riled up about it and that was that. it was certainly problematic that you were prone to interacting with others that would have upset yourself and that was one of the issues the two of you often fought about. 

“i don’t complain about her,” jungkook began to scoff, but nina rolled her eyes at his response.

“every time you talk about her, it just sounds like you listing off all the ways how she controls your life,” she said. “just keep doing you.”

a few of the others in the group murmured in agreement. he and his friends were enjoying dinner at some fancy french restaurant that jungkook wasn’t particularly fond of, but went along for the sake of everyone else. in front of the entire group, kelvin decided to spill the beans about jungkook’s affair and of course, they all encouraged it. he was a star, everyone had some sort of little secret on the side. it was a rite of passage amongst celebrities, even. meanwhile, like namjoon, you hated his new friends and warned jungkook that they were full of trouble. it was all the more reason for them to validate his actions and encourage him to continue his affair, maybe even pick up on a few more, when they saw you as a nuisance. 

kelvin continued, “like, come on. everyone does it. who cares if it keeps going?”

it made jungkook feel okay. besides, she was there and you were not. it wasn’t just convenient, it was too easy to create her into an outlet to get away from all his feelings and troubles that couldn’t be numbed with liquor and pills. he was able to forget about all the pressures of being an idol - the way his every move was being watched and how the entire world talked about him endlessly. he didn’t have to think so hard about his growing dependence on alcohol. he was able to forget how much he missed his family and the time he lost to be able to be a kid. jungkook was able to forget how much he missed you and how he wasn’t able to protect you from the harshness of real life - being away from each other, the stress of your respective careers, and everything in between. he knew it was wrong to keep going and there was no excuse, but he also knew he was a coward.

his cowardice is what found him in silence as he waited for you in front of your apartment complex tonight, as per the instructions given to him by mrs. choi, and the aforementioned moment two. these next three snapshots frozen in time would finally melt the ice that burned the deepest crevices of your heart: right now, the night in the hotel room during a snowstorm, and the day of your solo debut. 

[lollytea]

A lot of the plot of Wicked act 2 relies heavily on certain characters being obsessively in love with other characters and my biggest issue is trying to figure out why they're THIS down bad.

[luffington]

nurse's office ♡

➤ summary: Even doctors need check-ups, so you indulge your boyfriend and put on a sexy nurse costume. (18+)

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.1k

➤ warnings: switch!law, modern AU, nurse-patient roleplay, praise kink, established relationship, fluff, silly porn dialogue, fem reader

➤ notes: i LOVE law with all my heart but i have such a hard time writing him.... hopefully this turned out okay and it's accurate to his character :')

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

When you returned to your apartment after work, the lights were on and a familiar black trench coat hung in the entrance, but the coat’s owner was nowhere in sight. You called his name as you slipped off your shoes and received no response. 

A muffled noise coming from your shared bedroom caught your attention.

Curious, you crept through the living room and creaked open the door just enough to slip inside. Law sat at his desk in the dark with his back turned away from you. Completely focused on his dimmed laptop screen with headphones plugged in and unaware of your presence. A smile spread across your face when you noticed what he was watching.

A busty brunette woman in an incredibly cliché nurse outfit batted her fake eyelashes at the camera as she deep-throated her patient’s dick. Your boyfriend’s inked hand rose up and down his own cock, eyes half-lidded and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his throaty groans. When you were literally right behind him, you leaned over his shoulder to read the video title out loud. “‘The Best Prescription In Town Is A Dose Of This Naughty Nurse’s Pussy’?”

Law’s entire body went cold.

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” He panicked, whipping his head towards you and accidentally ripping his headphones cord out of the jack. Exaggerated and unrealistic slurping sounds, accompanied by the male actor’s moans, started playing at full volume. Law forgot how his typically agile fingers worked as he rushed to pause the video. He was ready to diagnose himself with a heart attack.

Your eyes flickered to the bottle of lube and box of tissues beside his laptop. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I…” Embarrassment flooded his veins and he scrambled for a logical explanation. You were clearly amused instead of upset, but that didn’t deter him. Steeling his nerves, your boyfriend cleared his throat and prayed his voice didn’t shake. “I wanted to see how accurate this was, but it’s a disgusting mockery of nurses. This is completely inappropriate in a real hospital.”

“Well, duh,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes. You leaned closer to study the other tabs open in his incognito mode browser. One search for ‘hot nurse’ and another for ‘nurse fucks patient’. A second video titled ‘Nursing Student Gives Penis Exam’. A spark ignited in you. “Law, is this what you’re into?”

He stayed silent and let his head fall down in shame – which only directed your gaze to his quickly softening dick – as he mumbled a timid apology.

“Oh, baby, you have nothing to apologize for.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his neck. “Please don’t be embarrassed, I genuinely wanna know what turns you on. I won’t judge, I promise.”

“You’re prettier than everyone in these videos,” was his only response. He was such a sweetheart without even trying. 

Even though you’d been together for quite a while, Law still had a hard time discussing his kinks. The man had a neurotic need to protect his innermost thoughts and thick iron walls guarding every part of his mind. It took a lot of time and patience, but you’d managed to break down most of his barriers. You wanted him to trust you and feel comfortable around you; having fun in the bedroom was just a bonus. 

Pressing your lips to his ear, you teasingly whispered, “I can buy a nurse costume, you know.”

“Huh? Are you serious?!” Wide gray eyes met yours, a flurry of emotions overtaking his stressed-out expression.

“Of course! I’ll look for a cute one right now.” You pulled out your phone, pausing before opening your browser to bat your eyelashes and say, “Only if you want me to.”

“I – I…” Law fumbled for words, unable to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he licked his dry lips and hastily leaned over to look at your screen. “Let me see the options.”

The costume was set to arrive in 3-4 business days, which gave you and Law plenty of time to talk and plan. Both of you discussed what you wanted out of the scenario and what you each felt comfortable doing. You promised Law you’d do actual research by watching nurse pornos in order to imitate them, and he swore to never correct you mid-scene with his accurate medical knowledge. 

His steely eyes lit up when he spoke and made your heart flutter with love. As an accomplished surgeon, he took care of countless patients every day – of course he wanted someone to do the same for him. Nothing was sexier than seeing Law turn to putty in your hands, happily melting into your protection.

The fateful night arrived with a flimsy package at your front door.

Law sat on the couch in the ‘waiting room’ (also known as the living room), anxiously rubbing the letters tattooed on his knuckles and bouncing his legs. His throat was parched, his heart was racing, and his dick was already getting hard.

His jaw dropped when you opened the bedroom door – no, your office. The tight white dress hugged your body perfectly, accentuating all of your best features. Firetruck red stripes lined the sleeves and collar, and a prominent zipper ran all the way down the front. Your boobs were spilling out of the low-cut top and the skirt barely covered your upper thighs. A dainty white hat sat atop your head, sporting a white cross in a red circle that matched the one on your breast pocket. The look was complete with thigh-high white stockings, lacy crimson lingerie, Law’s real stethoscope around your neck, and a notebook and pen in your hand.

“Trafalgar Law?” You called out coquettishly.

His excited cock tried to answer for him, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “T-That’s me.”

With an overly sweet grin, you beckoned him into the room. “It’s time for your appointment. Follow me.” 

Previously arranged pillows on the bed mimicked the half-upright position of a medical chair. Law couldn’t look away from you as he shuffled towards his ‘exam table’, sitting down so his legs hung off the edge. You placed a gentle hand under his scruffy chin, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits. 

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Law didn’t have the confidence (nor the acting ability) to answer ‘my dick’ the way a pornstar would. So he settled for, “I’m not sure, miss. Maybe… give me a physical?”

“Ooh, a full body inspection,” you giggled, putting on a pair of hospital-grade latex gloves. “Please remove your shirt and lie on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only my shirt?”

Biting back a laugh, you responded, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?” 

Your boyfriend nodded obediently, neatly folding his canary yellow t-shirt beside him on the bed. It didn’t matter how often you saw his heavily tattooed chest – you were in awe of it every time. You opened your notebook, humming in mock contemplation and scribbling nonsense on a blank page in an imitation of Law’s terrible doctor handwriting. He tried to peek at what you were doing, but you quickly shut the cover. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed with a gentle smile and ruffled his hair.

He apologized curtly and settled back into a comfortable reclined position. Running your fingers along his jawline, you trailed your touch down the column of his throat and across his collarbones. Gently massaging his shoulders and feeling the tense muscles loosen as he let out a content sigh. You were unable to resist tracing the massive inked heart on his torso as you’d done so many times, lightly trailing your pointer finger across its flames and swirls and sending pleasant tingles throughout his body.

Repeating the action on his matching bicep tattoos, you cheekily stated, “Such strong muscles. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled, finally beginning to relax into his role. “You have no idea.”

“Let me check your heartbeat.” Not even bothering to put the stethoscope in your ears, you ran the cold chestpiece against Law’s nipples, forcing a pretty hiss from his lips. Rubbing circles atop them until both were stiff peaks, then teasingly rolling them between your fingertips until he was flushed and panting. 

Satisfied with his worked-up state, you pulled away to write more nonsense in the notebook. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously, what the hell are you writing?”

“Please let me do my job, Mr. Trafalgar.” You firmly smacked the end of your pen against one of his nipples. The sudden display of authority made his cock twitch. 

You caressed his defined abdomen muscles, moving lower down his gorgeous body and brushed over his dark happy trail. 

“Your chest seems fine, which means…” You trailed off and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Law’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, lifting his hips to help you slide down his sweats and boxers underneath. 

His rock-hard dick sprung free gratefully, angry red and twitching in excitement. You’d never seen him get this worked up so quickly – it made your cunt ache.

“Well, this is clearly the issue! Poor thing, you must feel so lightheaded from all the blood flowing down here.” You cooed, wiping his dark bangs away from his eyes in mock comfort. “I have to relieve this pressure or else the swelling won’t go down.”

“H-How will you–“ Law’s cheeky question was cut off by a groan when you curled your fingers around the thick base of his cock. Just one stroke pushed out several beads of pearly precum from his pretty tip. The synthetic softness of latex gloves felt strange against such a sensitive part of him, but it made the scenario extra immersive. 

“I need to milk you dry. Is that okay with you, Mr. Trafalgar?” 

Law nodded eagerly, too overstimulated to consent with words. He’d heard that phrase so many times in his videos. Your chest swelled with pride as you admired his submissive state. It wasn’t easy for your boyfriend to relinquish control to you during sex – no matter how much he wanted to – but he looked like he would die for you at that moment. 

You swung your leg over his body to straddle his upper thighs, cunt inches away from where he needed it. The movement caused your skirt to ride up and reveal a peek of your lacy panties. Law gulped when he noticed your soft thighs bulging around the elastic band of your stockings. 

Using both hands, you began to jerk him off with slow and deliberate movements. Dragging your palms from the base to the head with the perfect amount of pressure, making sure to trace the sensitive vein on the underside. A steady stream of translucent fluid dribbled out, the length pulsing and begging for more in your grasp. You paused to spit on his tip for added lubrication and rubbed it into his heated skin. 

Law was glad you were fixated on his cock rather than his face. He knew he looked pathetic. Barely three minutes had passed and he was embarrassingly close to cumming (though he was proud of himself for not bursting in his pants the moment you emerged in your costume). His abdomen muscles were wound tight and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Steely gray eyes never left your body, your hands, almost too afraid to blink. 

When you fondled his heavy balls, his orgasm hit him like a truck. Law threw his head against the pillow and cried out, painting white streaks across your baby blue gloves. You grinned watching your boyfriend heaving for air, finally meeting his gaze when you swiped your tongue across a thick glob of cum on your thumb. He watched dazedly as you wiped the rest of his spend off on your skirt, then tossed your dirty gloves on the floor. 

“Perfect! The swelling went down,” you grinned slyly and added, “but it might come back.”

“Oh, it’s definitely coming back.” 

Law grabbed your waist and quickly flipped your positions, pinning you underneath him by sitting on your hips. Holding your wrists above your head in one hand and using the other to cup your jaw, he pressed his lips against yours in a wet and messy kiss. You whined as he shoved his tongue down your throat, eagerly devouring your mouth. 

“M-Mr. Trafalgar, this is very unprofessional…” Weakly faking a struggle against his grasp, whining when it only got tighter.

“I gotta self-medicate now, miss, or I’ll never get better.” Your boyfriend kissed his way down your sternum, tugging down the zipper of your costume just enough to reveal your chest. He groaned at the sight of your vivid red bra. “Fuck, what a uniform.”

While mouthing at the swell of your breasts, your boyfriend stroked himself to full hardness – which didn’t take long. Desire was overtaking his mind and turning his vision hazy. He might actually have a medical issue if he didn’t fuck you immediately. 

Law slipped his hand between your legs and snickered at the wetness soaked through your panties. Pushing the fabric to the side, he unceremoniously thrust his E and A fingers in your cunt. Those skilled digits pushed and prodded inside you, a grin spreading across his face when he heard the sinful squelch of your drenched walls. 

“Naughty nurse,” he chuckled teasingly, gray eyes burning holes into your own when he sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“I’m not naughty,” you pouted. “My job is to make patients feel better, and this is helping, right?”

“Shit, yeah, you just might cure me.” 

Law tapped your inner thighs and you spread them willingly, unsurprised when he chose to shove your panties to the side and keep the costume intact. He pressed his swollen mushroom tip against your leaking entrance. With freed wrists, you gripped the bedsheets, heart racing and pussy throbbing. 

Rather than fulfilling both of your desires, your boyfriend paused in thought. “Hold on, what did you diagnose me with?”

You shrugged and defaulted to something you heard in a porno. “Big dick disorder?”

Law fought against every well-educated neuron in his brain begging to correct you. He took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated exhale, but smirked proudly. “I’ll accept it.”

His cock slammed into you and knocked all the air from your lungs. Bottoming out with a groan, he paused to lean back and admire your outfit, feeling his cock get impossibly harder inside your cunt. Fucking a fantasy nurse was a deep-rooted desire of his, and he was amazed and incredibly grateful that he was able to act it out with you. 

“Is this the right way to treat my illness?” Smugly punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your womb. You’d never seen him so talkative in bed.

“M-move faster… it’ll be more effective.”

“Okay. I trust you, miss nurse.” Law whispered seductively in your ear. His beard tickled your skin when he nipped at a soft spot of your neck. 

Setting a brutal pace, he pistoned his cock in and out, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Messy wet sounds filled the room – your cunt gushing and your tongues desperately sliding against each other. Law typically limited his vocal expressions of pleasure to grunts and soft groans, but something in him had clearly snapped. He had no issue throwing his head back and moaning unashamedly, interweaving spat curse words and praises of your body. 

He sucked on your tongue while switching his hip movements to a slow grind, his dick fully sheathed and rubbing against every delicate inch of your cunt. 

“T-Traf… oh, fuck, Law.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you tangled your fingers in his messy black hair and held onto it for dear life. He swallowed the string of saliva connecting your lips with a playful grin.

Shifting your position into a mating press, you locked your stocking-clad knees around his shoulders. His rough pace resumed, cock reaching impossibly deeper inside you, bullying your cervix with every thrust. Your body rocked back and forth on the shaking mattress. Every movement caused your hat to press against the pillow and reminded you of your costume – no, your role.

“Good girl,” Law panted, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Taking care of me so well with your pretty pussy.”

You whined needily, feeling your core tighten. “I’m s-so close, baby,” 

A sharp slap came down on your tit. Law’s eyes narrowed. “Be professional.” 

Despite his strict command, he rewarded you by pressing and flicking his thumb against your neglected clit. You bucked your hips into his touch desperately, grinding the sensitive nub on his calloused finger.

You threw your head backwards, arched off the bed and came with a cry of, “Mr. Trafalgar!” Arms wrapped around his back, legs pulling him in even tighter as your pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, flooding over you in a bright white light. 

“Naughty fucking nurse.” Your boyfriend growled with a pleased smirk. Hot cum coated your walls as Law let out a deep moan, your cunt eagerly milking every last drop. Your boyfriend kissed you deeply until the aftershocks of both of your orgasms had subsided.

He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Releasing your tight grip on his shoulders, you lovingly rubbed the giant skull tattoo on his upper back. 

“Thank you, miss. I’m cured.” Law mumbled happily, kissing your cheek. 

You frowned. “You are? After one round?”

“Oh.” That certainly wouldn’t be a satisfying ending to his appointment. “Um… No, I’m still very, very sick.” He followed it up with a fake cough. Not exactly a symptom of having a big dick, but whatever. 

Deciding to give your overwhelmed boyfriend a break, you took control of the situation again.

“I’m not sure how much medical knowledge you have, Mr. Trafalgar, but I have an ache in my chest.” You reached between your bodies to innocently spread your unzipped dress even more, pushing out your tits. “Mind checking it out for me?”

Law pushed up the cups of your bra without a second thought, groping your soft flesh with large palms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[xomakara]

what do you think about brat!reader that has a fixtation on pulling jaehyuns hair during sex but since he enlisted, brat!reader couldn’t do it because of his short hair and has been bugging him about it through the phone whenever he calls to check in on her and when he comes back home during his break, brat!reader is still pissed about it but jaehyun is in a loving way annoyed with her brattiness and puts her in her place ( if you don’t mind could you write something along the lines of this too 🤗🤗🤗)

Completely Yours

SUMMARY |  Jaehyun gives you unconditional love before he enlists.

PAIRINGS | Jaehyun x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  husband!Jaehyun, soon-to-be-dad!Jaehyun, smut, established relationship

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (female receiving/male giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration

LENGTH | 3,543 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi anon, I know it's not exactly what you requested but I did include a hair-tugging kink in there lol. I hope you still like it regardless. I finally managed to finish this and sure, it's not as long as the other Jaehyun fics I've written, I still hope you all like it. My brain has not been braining for this fic and it has drove me crazy but I really wanted to get this posted before Jae enlisted. I also want to thank @caelesjjk for the gorgeous banner! Please reblog, like, comment, I love you all and I'm gonna miss Jaehyun for the next 18 months. 💚

"Come here, babe," Jaehyun's deep voice is sweet like honey. He's sitting up in bed, blankets over his bottom half and propped up against the headboard, relaxed. His fingers are crooked, signaling you over. "I wanna do somethin'."

There's a devilish curve to his lips, hinting at some mischief. With how hot and cold he's been this last week—all touchy one moment, ignoring you the next—it makes you hesitate in walking over. You eye him warily, watching him coo at you. "What's gotten into you? What do you want, exactly?"

"Just want my wife," Jaehyun replies.

You crawl your way between his legs, knees planted on either side of his thighs. "I'm still mad at you. I hope you know that."

"Still?" His hands fit themselves at your waist perfectly. A kiss finds itself placed right below your ear. Another at your jaw, then to the side of your nose. "Baby, it's only the military. You know I have to go. I'll be back soon."

"Not soon enough," your tone is accusatory and petulant; he's aware of this as his fingers dance against the fabric of your silk slip nightgown, stopping just as the hemline hits the junction between your inner thigh and hip. You frown, running your hand through his now short hair. "I miss the longer hair already."

"Gonna miss tugging on it during sex, is that it?" he snorts, blowing raspberries into your neck as he squeezes the globes of your ass with his big hands. You jolt up in response, barely able to smother out the surprised noise from your mouth.

"Y-yeah! I like when it's long...and I get to yank on it and make you make pretty noises. No more stupid buzzcut," you groan, doing your best not to think about what you were going to be without for a whole two years.

"Taeyong's girlfriend didn't complain when he cut his hair," Jaehyun chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest. "It'll grow back real quick and then I can go back to giving you head while you hold it and tug on it however you like."

“That’s Taeyong’s girlfriend,” you whined. "But you promise, Jae?"

"I promise," Jaehyun bites into the joint between your shoulder and neck and then soothes over it with his warm tongue. He hums, "Time will go by so fast. And, anyway..." his lips are brushing against yours. He still looks so good with the short hair. So handsome when he smiles. His words are full of sureness as he caresses your belly, "you have a piece of me already."

Your heart squeezes at this because he's right. Inside of you, there is already a small fragment of him living and growing, something physical for you to always cherish. "How did you find out?"

His arms wrap around you, snug and warm. Your lips mold against his and he's drinking you in. "I found the test when I was getting the emergency kit before we left for our trip. Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I don't know. I… I was nervous. Not about having a baby with you. I'm afraid of...afraid of being by myself without you," the grip around you grows tighter at your confession. "How can I get through the next 18 months without you? Who is going to help me when I get fat and angry with hormones?" You laugh, watery at the sudden sting of tears brimming behind your eyes. The words start to flood past your lips now that you've confessed. "Who will hold my hair back for me when I barf, or massage my aching feet at the end of a long day?"

"I'm always a phone call away, baby. All you have to do is reach out," he hugs you tighter, pressing his lips against the side of your throat. "The guys are always here too, Taeyong's girlfriend and our family. Don't feel like you have to go through any of this alone."

"Promise me you'll call every day? After your shifts? Come home during your breaks?" your hands fidget against his shoulders as they dip beneath your slip, gripping at his bare waist, eager for him. His hips buck into the air a little. You're breathless. "Please?"

"Whatever you want," there's a tentative motion as he strokes a line up your spine. His hands cup your cheeks. "I'll give you everything."

With the tip of his tongue, he nudges your lips apart and slips past. Jaehyun deepens the kiss by nibbling the corner of your lip, slipping into your mouth as you gasp at his little bites, swallowing his moans when you wiggle around in his lap, grinding down slowly.

One thing you and him do very well is kissing. You used to kiss until your mouths would begin to tingle with numbness and you'd have to separate to catch a breath before diving right back in.

Jaehyun tastes the same. His kisses are addictive, hot and demanding like the man himself. "Let me love you in the meantime. Let me spoil my gorgeous wife until the second I leave."

"Jaehyun, the guys are outside," your husband hasn't kept his hands to himself, palms drifting lower to hold the swell of your ass as you attempt to sit up and off him. But the man isn't having it.

"I'm sure the guys are all at the lake or goofing off somewhere," Jaehyun muttered, his lips dragging down the line of your throat to leave marks as he pleases.

"Can't believe you invited the guys on our trip...ah," your complaints weaken out as he gently teases your nipples through the fabric of the slip, touching the wet bud of the other until you start to squirm. "Ah! Babe, knock it off," you squeak, glancing at the door. Your knees tighten their grip at his sides.

"Can't help myself. Got a hot, pregnant wife sittin' on me," it's meant to be a joke but all it does is send your mind on an out-of-control tangent. His eyes drop. "Now, are you going to take care of the problem, or will I need to do it myself?"

"Not my problem that you popped a boner," a squeal of surprise passes from you when he rolls you onto your back, switching your position easily. There's something hungry, unbridled and impatient in Jaehyun's eyes as he regards you. You flush at his heavy gaze and spread your legs so he can nestle further between your thighs. "Jae."

"What does my sweet, gorgeous wife want?" his thumbs slide across your nipples as he takes a deep breath.

"I...fuck, Jae," you huff and grind up against his crotch. Your throat feels like it's tightening. Heat pools in your tummy as the flush moves further down, towards your tits, neck. "I want your mouth."

"Good thing I'm hungry, too,” he smirks.

"Jaehyun," you snap at his teasing, arching when he pulls down the straps and slides the nightgown down your frame.

 "Can't wait to taste you," the bottom hem goes as far as your middle before bunching. A bite to your nipple has you whining, trying to muffle the noises by biting the knuckle of your thumb. "Lift yourself up a little so I can get this out of my way."

Your panties join the crumple on the floor. Then, you spread your legs so that one wraps itself around his shoulder while the other is lifted up and set in the crook of his elbow. His hands lay flat on your belly, right above your pelvis. He nips and kisses all the soft, unmarred skin that he's familiar with. Your heart begins to flutter, making you tingle down below.

"I can't believe that I'll miss you being all round with my baby," Jaehyun murmurs against your stomach. Your body aches for him as the days he has to leave start to come close. There's still time, but that won't matter soon when the separation will set in.

"At least you'll be home during your breaks," you gulp and your head dips back. A light kiss is placed directly on your clit. "That'll make me feel a little better. We'll see you and you'll spoil the hell out of me with your undying love and affection."

"Exactly. The time will be fast, so let me enjoy the moments I still have with you," Jaehyun slides your labia apart and licks a broad strip from your clit to your core. "Mhm. So damn perfect, it tastes good, too."

You squeeze his arm tightly and gasp, his breath is hot and making your whole body tingle with sensitivity as you writhe against the sheets, and he takes this as a signal to keep eating you out.

The long length of his tongue darts inside your cunt as he swirls the tip over the sides. He goes deeper, spreading you wider for his convenience and flicks at a sensitive part that has your legs tensing. He watches, with pleasure, how you shiver when he curls his tongue upward. Then, he presses right under your hood, applying a relentless pressure to the aching spot that has you trembling. The muffled and delicious gasps and whines of ecstasy are music to his ears, as are the satisfied moans you make every now and then when his lips engulf your clit, the vibrations that shudder through the sensitive organ adding to the intensity.

His hand continued to caress your belly. The reminder that a life was slowly forming in you both warms him and makes his throat clench at the same time. He will miss it. Miss your swollen belly, your changing figure, your shifting moods, and cravings, and how his little spitfire will get all hormonal on him.

Jaehyun retracts the point of his tongue from inside and replaces it with two of his fingers. A continuous stream of arousal slips from his digits when he sinks in. He thumbs the side of your engorged clitoris as he pushes into you as slow as his body would allow. There were times he wasn't willing to take it slow, was almost rough, but now was not one of them. He only wanted to hear you fall apart before his departure and milk it for all it's worth.

Fingers moving expertly in you, he moves up to kiss your breast, taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swipes across the protruding nub in a circular motion, pinning the pebble with the point, as his other hand continues to stroke you in perfect harmony. Jaehyun pinches your nipple, lashing the hard, reddening, little peak until you moan at him, back arching and your knees knocking his shoulders.

"What else do you want, my love?" Jaehyun breathes, curling his fingers. "Tell me."

"Jae," you breathed out.

“Tell me, babe. Come on, use that pretty voice of yours,” Jaehyun coaxed.

“Inside!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

"Inside? Yeah?" he murmurs. He laps a bead of your cream from the corner of his lips. Aroused, your nipples stand firm as he thumbs them again.

"Put your cock in me," your nails drag a line over his shoulder. "Make love to me."

"Damn, my baby's so impatient," the tone in his voice, all rugged and husky from not saying a word until now, goes straight to the center of your core. The slight quaking that makes itself present in his legs goes unseen to you.

Jaehyun captures you with a brief yet searing kiss. You hum with delight, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding on as he presses his lips to yours. You nudge his nose with the side of yours, offering a smile when he looks into your eyes. The moment lingers for several seconds with him observing you as you catch your breath.

"Tell me," Jaehyun touches his forehead to your collarbone, nuzzling his head on your skin as he feels your pussy constrict around him. He flips his head and kisses where your shoulder meets the collar. "Tell me how you want it."

"Love me, babe. Please," you whisper, eyes meeting him. The head of his cock pushes into you just enough for him to rock deeper in and stretch you slowly. He drags his length through your swollen pussy, slipping in and out to coax himself hard again and again, always returning to his place inside of you, opening and filling your throbbing heat, molding your softness and wetness around his hard cock.

A ragged exhale leaves his lungs as Jaehyun runs his hand down the outside of your leg, clutching your ankle in order to wrap around him. You wiggle against his torso and then rest your leg higher up along the center of his back, knee nudging his tail bone, wanting him deeper inside of you, rolling your hips and chasing the high he knows that you desperately need. Jaehyun rewards you for it by sliding in more, up to the root.

"Oh, shit!" you curse and tighten around him.

He's silent; he loves having sex with you, but there is no room to talk when all you can hear are the squelch of his thrusts and the rickety noise made when his cock enters your throbbing sex and his heavy grunts.

"Almost there?" Jaehyun is quite close, breathing heavily as his skin starts to shimmer in the sunlight.

He pushes inside of you until his hips knock your own. He circles his pelvis, massaging your clit with his dick. The pressure on the swollen nub has you whimpering, struggling to meet his movements until it starts to sting and ache from the constant stimulation and you begin to move away, but he stops the motion with one of his big hands splayed on your hip and holds you steady.

“Jae!” you cried out.

"Hm. Is this what you want? You want this?" he groans, rocking his hips, punctuating the word with another nudge of his cock against you.

A yes bubbles from you, the word leaving your mouth followed by the most desperate moan when the swollen glands hit just the right spot. The ridges on his pelvic bone brush along the top of your slit and bump your clit each time his hips rut forward. The thickness of his penis is evident as he repeatedly pushes and pushes until you take every inch inside.

"Gonna cum?" the man mutters in his most raspiest tone. "It's okay to cum," he grunts, pounding into you harder than before. "Gonna love you the entire time...even if it takes me all night."

You sob with delight as a flash of electricity moves from your pelvis to the very top of your scalp. It was white behind your closed eyes as a shattering pleasure moved down the middle of you. "Ah! Shit. Oh, Jaehyun!"

A single moan escapes his parted lips, sounding strangled and wrecked, before Jaehyun catches and swallows it. He moans it deep into your mouth with one last hard shove, the final shove of his cock. You feel the burst and heat spreading inside. He makes a beautiful face, gasping with the sensation that overtakes him and you catch his orgasm just in time. It's euphoria the way his expression, eyebrows upturned, lips slightly opened. He moans out a gasp and throws his head back, full and handsome, before tipping his chin and pressing his forehead against yours.

You touch his jawline lightly with a fingertip and he opens his eyes to look into yours, finding those crinkles in the corners. The sweat is coating his skin and you admire the red that paints his cheeks and lips. You reach up and run a gentle hand over the skin there, down his chest, before finally letting it settle over his rapidly thumping heartbeat.

"You've made me a complete mess," you huff out with laughter, full of warmth. The light-hearted sound makes a smile appear on Jaehyun's face.

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun chuckled, “I plan on fixing it for you in a minute. Think you can handle another round?”

"Definitely."

Some months later

"Look at my little princess getting all big," Jaehyun cooed from the tablet screen in your hands. "Daddy can't wait to be home."

"Oh, you care more about your daughter than your wife now, huh?" you situate the phone on the phone stand so that you could bounce the baby in your lap, wiping her chin after the last of her suckling your breast. It was close to time for her to nap, the lightness in the tone of her fussing notifying you.

"I love both my girls. I can't wait to see you both," he mutters, his gaze softening at the two of you.

"We both miss you," you coo, standing to pace about the room with the infant at your chest. There was no stopping the fond look that passed onto your face. He'd been a daddy for three months, was lucky to be there for your labor, and held his beautiful baby girl for the first time in the delivery room. From that moment, your heart had never been fuller. "Here, honey, say hi to daddy."

The phone was in position so the small baby girl could be seen in your arms, waving at the camera with her fist.

"That's daddy, yeah, that's him! That's daddy," you whispered sweetly, resting a kiss on the downy hair atop her tiny head as she babbled. "Say 'hi!'"

"Daddy will be home soon in a few hours," he says, his free hand raising in a wave to the phone. "Then, daddy can hug and kiss his little princess for real. All good in the nursery? Do I need to bring anything home with me?"

"No, the room is finally fully finished, thanks to the family and the guys. No toys needed, no blankets or clothes," you beam. "But... you can pick up her a few diapers." 

You continue on walking the baby around until she begins to doze off, arms twitching in her sleep, her head laying on your chest, fuzzing and twitching like a kitten. A wide grin spread across the man's face, warm and genuine at the sight, feeling like something within his chest had been suddenly twisted in a pleasing way.

"Only a few more months and I'll officially be home, my love. Then we'll be together, our whole little family. My whole world," he smiled, making silly faces through the tablet. "Babe, I gotta get going now. Johnny is almost here to pick me up."

“Hurry home, fast,” you urge.

“As fast as Johnny can drive,” Jaehyun calls as a goodbye and winks at you.

“Oh god. That might get you home quicker, but I am begging you,” you plead, “Don't let him speed.”

"No promises!" he calls as a goodbye and winks at you.

With that, the call is done and you situate the baby on the playmat, turning on a baby video with music as she snoozes away. You sit, with legs curled under you, waiting for his arrival.

Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, half an hour and still no Jaehyun. He should've been back by now.

After a couple more minutes, the door unlocks and you look over to the door, your husband comes barreling through as quick as his legs will allow. "Jaehyun!"

His feet carry him in an instant, catching your jaw gently, cupping it before dragging the pad of his thumb over your cheek with a love-sick and tired smile gracing his features. 

"I'm home," he whispers softly, lifting you up in a bear-like hug and carrying you the short distance to the sofa before setting you in his lap. "God, how have you been, sweetheart? How's my baby girl?"

"Good and asleep. Tuckered herself out today, too," you lean over him, peering over the back to spot the infant sleeping. "We're both really glad you're finally home." 

You breathe out, laying a loving kiss against his brow. "How long is this break? Do I get to keep you to myself for longer than a day this time?"

"This time is a week," he grinned and hugged you closer, hands going up and down the span of your back. "Just a week. You can keep me to yourself for a week. Plus my hair is a bit longer now for you to pull..." he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and making you swat at his broad chest.

"Quit! The baby is sleeping," you chide him. But, Jaehyun was quick to make up for his lack of brain cells by leaving open-mouthed, lingering kisses over your neck, not holding back while nipping gently here and there. Your breathless hush becomes a broken groan.

"Did I ever tell you," his voice dropped, turning rough, as he grazed his teeth over the shell of your ear. His smile was wicked and inviting. He'd never looked as handsome as in this moment to you. "I love you so, so much?"

You clear your throat with a chuff, fight a shiver, and narrow your eyes at your husband. "Many times, but remind me once again."

Jaehyun looks you in the eyes, giving your buttocks a hearty squeeze. "Let me prove it, instead."

[p0orbaby]

Take One for the Team

summary: you and alexia are in a secret relationship

warnings: talks of sex

a/n: i volunteer as tribute

word count: 1.1k

-

Alexia's been on a warpath for a week now. You can tell because she's more vocal than usual about everyone else's inadequacies, and that's saying something. Today, she's pacing around the changing room like a caged lioness, ranting about the “abysmal” performance during training. You’re pretty sure she’s the only one who noticed anyone playing badly. The rest of the team looks at each other like, “What the hell is she talking about?”

To be fair, she's not entirely wrong. Someone did manage to miss an open goal from three yards out, but the way she's going on, you'd think that someone also insulted her grandmother and keyed her car.

In one particularly low moment, she accuses Ona of “running like she’s towing a tractor.” Ona’s response is to half-heartedly flip her off, which might’ve made Alexia angrier, but she’s already storming off to harass someone else.

You’re trying to stay under the radar because you’ve already received your daily dose of Alexia’s wrath earlier when you suggested—very helpfully, you thought—that she might want to “relax her shoulders a little.” You even demonstrated a quick shoulder roll for her. In response, she gave you a stare so cold you’re surprised you didn’t get frostbite on the spot.

So, you’re sitting on the bench, quietly tying your shoelaces and pretending you’re anywhere but here, when Aitana slides in next to you. She doesn’t say anything at first, just sighs dramatically and starts fiddling with a pretend loose thread on her shorts.

“Do you think she’s always like this?” Aitana asks eventually. “I mean, off the pitch. Like, what’s her problem?”

You shrug because what else can you do? You can’t exactly explain to Aitana that Alexia’s been on edge because you stole the last of her favorite cereal this morning and refused to apologise. In your defense, it was your cereal. But Alexia can hold a grudge like nobody’s business, and you’re pretty sure that’s why she’s been lashing out at everyone.

Still, you’re not about to say that out loud. You like your life the way it is, uncomplicated by having your secret relationship exposed by a rogue comment about breakfast food.

The others start to gather around, sensing a potential gossip session. The changing room is like that, everyone gravitating toward any sign of drama, like moths to a flame. Irene joins in, wiping sweat off her forehead with her shirt and making it clear she’s had enough of Alexia’s mood swings.

“She needs to get laid,” she declares, completely deadpan.

You almost choke on your own saliva, trying to play it cool while swallowing your surprise. The rest of the team nods in agreement, as if this is the most reasonable suggestion anyone has made in days. You, meanwhile, are caught between wanting to laugh and desperately trying not to give yourself away.

“She probably hasn’t gotten any in weeks,” Cata adds with a knowing smirk, like she’s an expert in Alexia’s sex life. Or her supposed lack thereof.

Mapi grins like she’s just figured out how to solve world hunger. “We need to volunteer someone”

Oh no. No, no, no. You can see where this is going, and you’re about to make a break for it when, Patri, Irene, and Mapi all turn to you simultaneously, their eyes practically gleaming with mischief.

“You should do it,” Patri says, pointing a finger at you like she’s accusing you of a crime.

You blink at her, feigning innocence. “Why me?”

Irene shrugs. “Why not? You’re like... the calmest person here. You can handle her”

Ingrid’s eyes narrow in on you, and she tilts her head. “Plus, you’re not bad-looking”

“I appreciate the backhanded compliment,” you say dryly, glancing at the door, wondering if you can make a run for it before they start making detailed plans. “But why would I want to-”

“Take one for the team!” Mapi interrupts, practically cackling. The others join in, laughing like they’ve just solved a great mystery. “It’s a win-win. She gets laid, and we don’t have to deal with her bullshit for at least a day”

You have to admit, it’s a decent plan. If you weren’t already sleeping with Alexia, that is. But they don’t know that, and you can’t exactly tell them without revealing your secret, which would definitely make things awkward.

You open your mouth to object, but Ona cuts you off. “It’s perfect. You’ve got that whole mysterious vibe. She’ll be into it”

“You think she’ll be into it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Marta grins. “She might kill you first, but that’s a risk we’re willing to take”

They all laugh, and you can’t help but smirk. They have no idea how much Alexia is “into it,” but you’re not about to spill the beans now.

“Fine,” you say with a dramatic sigh, pretending to mull it over. “I’ll do it. For the team”

Irene pats you on the back like you’re about to go off to war. “Good luck, soldier. You’re going to need it”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you deadpan, but they’re already high-fiving each other, congratulating themselves on their brilliant scheme.

-

Later, when you finally get Alexia alone, she’s still fuming, muttering something about people not taking the game seriously. You’re not really paying attention, though, because you’re still stuck on what the team said earlier. You can’t help but laugh when you think about it, which only makes Alexia glare at you more.

“What’s so funny?” she snaps, crossing her arms.

You shake your head, still grinning. “Nothing. Just thinking about how you’re really wound up lately”

Her eyes narrow, and she takes a step closer, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “And?”

“And,” you say, dropping your voice to a low murmur as you pull her in by the waist, “the team thinks you need to get laid”

Alexia blinks at you, her expression shifting from anger to surprise, and then she lets out a laugh, genuine and loud, like she hasn’t in days. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, nuzzling her neck as she relaxes in your arms. “They volunteered me. Said I should take one for the team”

Alexia pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her mouth curving into a wicked smile. “You told them we’ve been doing that for months now?”

“Nah,” you say, shaking your head. “Figured I’d let them keep thinking they’re the geniuses”

She laughs again, shaking her head in disbelief, then leans in to kiss you, her lips warm and soft against yours. When she pulls back, she looks a lot less stressed than she did before, which you consider a job well done.

“Think I’ll have to thank them later,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “You mean thank me?”

Alexia’s eyes glint with that same dangerous edge from before, but this time it’s paired with a smirk that promises nothing but trouble. “I already do, don’t I?”

You can’t argue with that. And for once, neither can the team.

[pseudowho]

Red

Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.

Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.

*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You felt sick to your stomach.

"They caught him. Did you hear?"

You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.

"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."

Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.

"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."

You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--

"You shouldn't go in there." Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment. "Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?" Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.

"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand." You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.

"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky." Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.

He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come. Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin. "Thank you, Satoru. I love you." "I love you, too. Be good." You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.

You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand. You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it. "I can smell you." Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.

Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.

His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.

The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket. He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.

"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago." "You were the one who left." "You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity. "You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints. "Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people." You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water. "You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?" "Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed." You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.

"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky. "Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."

Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging. "Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.

"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--" Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes. "...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face. God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.

"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.

Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;

"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."

You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.

"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."

Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.

"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.

"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"

"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."

A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.

"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."

Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.

You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.

From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.

You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.

Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.

The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.

All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.

"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.

You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.

"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.

"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"

"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."

"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.

"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.

Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.

Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".

"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."

You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.

You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.

"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.

"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"

"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.

You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.

"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.

Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.

"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.

Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.

Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--

"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"

Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--

Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.

As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.

"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.

"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.

"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.

Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.

"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.

Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.

"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.

"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.

Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.

"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.

"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.

Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.

"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.

"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.

You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.

"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.

"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.

Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.

Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.

"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"

Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.

Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.

The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.

"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"

Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--

--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"

Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.

Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive. "--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"

Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you. Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath. Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him. Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone-- "...come with me." You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance. "You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me." You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.

[gildedbirdcage-if]

DEMO TBA

Berenzia- a kingdom ruled by a powerful, stern King. For most of his rule, most anyone would report that he was a fair man to those who relied on him and merciless to those who opposed him or wished harm to his kingdom. It’s said there was once a time where he had calmed, finally found himself beyond his role, and all was well. The people loved, practically worshipped, their soft, perfect, patient, and kind Queen but the King would tell anyone that it paled in comparison to his love for her. The King and Queen were truly one half to the same whole and envied by all. As with all things, it did not last. In a classic tale of tragedy, the King lost his beloved Queen and it is said that it was an event he could never recover from. Whisperings in the street and kingdom’s borders would report that he lost his humanity the day the Queen died.

An event that coincides with your birth.

Play as the only child of Berenzia’s king- from your isolated youth to your isolated adulthood. You’re relatively safe from your father’s ire until your mid-twenties as you must fulfill your duty and get advantageously married. Build your relationships with your childhood friends, your new suitors, and a new friend. Will you do your father’s bidding or will you take destiny into your hands?

Gilded Birdcage is an 18+ interactive fiction not suited for minors. This interactive fiction will contain optional sexual content, suggestive themes, optional references to suicide, child neglect, abuse, deadnaming (gender selectable content), use of incorrect pronouns (gender selectable content), sexism, and death. This list will be updated as needed during content creation.

MC will be set to AFAB with options to explore gender identity. ROs down below will also not be gender selectable.

Aleksander “Alek” [M]:

Age: 25

Physical Description: 6’4”, ivory skin painted with freckles, red, loosely curled hair that reaches his nape, broad shoulders, thin waist, deceivingly strong despite appearance, crooked nose from a break, with warm, brown eyes.

Personality: Warm, affable, easy-going, energetic, extroverted, and impossible to not get along with. Makes anyone feel like they’re the only person in the room… until you walk in. [ENFP-T]

Info: Your childhood friend since diapers, you were born only two days apart. Alek is your first, and closest, friend. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you. He has loved you his whole life but will never act upon it, believing you could never feel the same. He enters the battle for your hand not because he hopes you’ll see him as more than a friend, but to give you a friendly, familiar face to choose from. He’ll only ever have eyes for you. (Note: Can choose Alek for a platonic,romantic, or poly route)

Relationship to MC: Childhood friend, Suitor

Orion [M]:

Age: 24

Physical Description: 6’2”, tawny skin with small burn scars scattered on his forearms from cooking, stocky build, straight brown hair (loosely tied in a knot), with piercing green eyes.

Personality: Hardworking, sardonic, introverted, pessimistic, and pessimistic. [ISTJ-A]

Info: Orion began working in the castle at a very young age, thus being one of the only other children you had around growing up. Orion could not stand your demands or position and was, and always will be, quick to point out how the real world works. Despite his cold behavior, he does come around to like you as a person (friend or romantic) and will do anything to make things… livable for you. You often spend time taking up space in his kitchen as a sanctuary of sorts. (Note: available for romantic and poly route)

Relationship to MC: (reluctant) Childhood friends, personal chef

Cyrus [M]:

Age: 29

Physical Description: 5’10”, chestnut skin, thin, black hair that falls in messy waves (reaches his shoulders), with dark brown (nearly black) eyes.

Personality: Flighty, playful, cunning, charming, deceptive, extroverted, and (occasionally) manipulative. [ESTP-A]

Info: An inconsequential prince (fourth born) from a bordering, allied kingdom. Takes life as it comes and never tries to be serious about anything. He has entered for your hand to continue his easy life with hopefully less people trying to control his actions. He is a flirt above all else, capturing every heart he desires, but never offers his own.

Relationship to MC: Stranger, suitor

Irvine [M]:

Age: 28

Physical Description: 6’0”, sun-kissed skin, straight, dark blonde hair that falls to his waist, muscular build, scar across his eyebrow and lip, with one gray eye and one brown eye.

Personality: Calm, sweet, patient, ambitious, peaceful, extroverted, and warm. [ENFJ-T]

Info: The second born prince from a country threatening to wage war against your own. He is hoping for a mutually beneficial marriage between the two of your to keep peace. Despises war and will do anything with minimal bloodshed to get it. Will promise you near anything if you give him your hand. Will wear whatever mask he needs to, as well. (Note: Available for platonic route or a strictly physical route)

Relationship to MC: Stranger, suitor

Blaire [F]:

Age: 23

Physical Description: 5’2”, deep umber skin tone, tightly curled (4B) black hair that reaches her jaw, thin build, with amber eyes.

Personality: Fun, mischievous, joyful, secretive, confident, conspiratorial, extroverted, playful, and a tease. [ENFJ-T]

Info: One of the latest nobles to hit the scene, her father is staying at the castle to work with the king to further himself as an advisor. Noticing you lack companionship, especially female, Blaire’s father offers her up to spend her days with you. She is your first female friend and confidant. Happy to give you opinions on your suitors- you’ve become her latest project and game.

Relationship to MC: Stranger

~Under Construction~

12/27/2024

- Updated that there will not be an option to not have the MC be AFAB- the story is so built around the treatment of being born female. There will be gender identity options as the MC grows up but there will be no option to be AMAB.

-Still working on if I will end the project with choicescipt or twine, but for now all demo is going to choicescript.

- I have about 6,000 words all typed out over four scenes and am hoping to have the demo up and going once I have the MC through toddler phase. So far I finished the MC being born.

-Questions are welcome! Including RO questions! :)

[the-kr8tor]

Okay, but like, what about Hobie x a reader who's like, super resilient? As in resistant to physical dmg. Like idk how to word it, but someone who like, accidentally chops of half her finger then is like, "Oh no, I'm fine :)" then puts rubbing alcohol on it. And he's just like freaking out like there's so much blood on the counter?? Idk, I just thought it'd be funny because I'm kinda like that irl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thank you so much for requesting!! I loved writing it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw injury, cw food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF.

A/N: a bit late for another Halloween fic lol it's still Halloween somewhere right? (Wrong)

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The cinnamon smelling cookies in the oven makes your stomach grumble. With your hands occupied with the pumpkin carving knives, you pout at the rumbling feeling. You and Hobie are speedily carving out pumpkins together during Halloween night. You would've done it earlier on your own but you wanted to carve them together with Hobie. Unfortunately, Goblin doesn't care about the holiday despite his pumpkin shaped bombs.

So you're carving away, chipping at the face you've doodled that Hobie lovingly told you that it looks eerily like you. Which earned him a face full of pumpkin guts thrown at him.

Hobie senses your hunger, and how you're carving away without care. “Love, it's not a competition.”

“I know, but the trick or treaters will be here any minute!” You huff, poking out a finished ‘eye’ in your pumpkin. One down, a few more shapes to go. “Besides, that movie we watched the other day fucked me up, I don't want to be murdered by a pumpkin demon for not having a jack o’ lantern on our doorstep.”

He chuckles, going around the counter and abandoning his own half finished pumpkin. “The little demon won't come ‘ere knowin’ that ‘m over ‘ere, lovie.” You give him a look as he slides his arms around your middle, chin perched on your shoulder as he rubs his chin on you lovingly. “‘sides, this was supposed to be fun, remember?” Pecking your cheek, you lean closer as he smothers your jaw in warm kisses. Who needs a chimney when you've got your walking furnace right beside you? “Slow down for me, yeah?” Whispering lowly in your ear that sends goosebumps on your arms, he rubs them away with an even warmer hand before he reluctantly moves away to check on the cookies.

“Yeah,” you say with a lovestruck smile, turning around to see Hobie bending down while cracking open the hot oven and shutting it off. “You're right, this is fun, Hobie.” You take the opportunity to ogle him with a tilt of your head. He senses your eyes on his behind of course, prompting him to quickly look over his shoulder, catching you mid turn as you pretend you weren't eyeing him down.

Hobie slides himself next to you on the counter, elbow placed on the cold tiles, chin resting on his palm with a smirk on his pretty lips. “Saw somethin' you like?”

You glance at him, trying to tamp down your laughter. “Well, your jack o' lantern isn't done yet, I don't like that.”

Hobie was about to steal a kiss right on your smug lips but the doorbell ringing and the unmistakable chime of children outside interrupts him. “Tight arse.” He says against your pursed lips before walking away to grab the bowl of candy on the table.

“Flat ass.” You call after him as he makes his way to the front door. He chuckles as he opens it, and the trick or treaters’ voices echoes inside.

Shaking your head with a grin, you continue to chip away at the pumpkin, following the zig zagged line of its serrated smile. As you chop and cut, you hear Hobie giving out candies.

“Nice costume, little man.” He says, and you're sure he's giving the kid a full sized chocolate bar based on the lilt of his tone. “Spider-Man himself would be jealous, eh?”

You wanted to see what the said costume looks like, so with a quick peek while you're cutting out the last bits of pumpkin, you smile at the kid's homemade costume. It's even complete with Hobie's signature spikes and leather vest. Your smile falters as you feel something warm trickle from the pads of your thumb, looking down, you see crimson ebb from your fingertip down into the jack o’ lantern’s grin.

“Oh.”

Hobie's senses tingle as he shuts the door with a quick farewell to the kid. Goosebumps rise on his nape, head blaring alarms in his ears. Turning around to see what his senses are pointing at, he almost drops the bowl of candy when he sees your blood flowing from your hand, pooling down on the white countertops.

“Shit, love.” He speed walks towards you, hands outstretched to cradle your bleeding finger. “What happened?”

“I nicked myself, I'm fine.” The amount of red flowing out from the cut says otherwise. “I just need to wash it.”

“Fuck, you're bleedin’ a lot.” He curses under his breath as he helps you towards the kitchen sink, opening the faucet to let the warm water wash the crimson away. “You alright? How do you feel?” The sink water quickly blends in with your blood as it goes down the drain.

“I'm fine—” Hobie's already grabbing a clean towel from the rack, “Hobie—” he's wrapping it around your finger, watching the blood stain the white cloth. “Don't worry, I'm really fine.”

“It won't stop.” His eyes widen at how fast the red overtakes the pristine cloth. “Shit,” he wraps it tighter, and you don't even hiss or groan. Flicking his worried eyes at you, he sees you shrug at him. “You don't feel that?”

“I told you, I'm fine.”

“Bein' fine and not feelin’ any pain ain't the same. What if you nicked a nerve or some shit?”

“I don't think so,” you take a peek at the now drenched cloth. “Can you grab me the alcohol, please?” You say, awfully calm about the blood you're quickly losing.

“Alcohol?!” He scoffs out, guiding you down on the dining chair, just in case you faint. “Love, that won't help the bleedin’, It'll hurt you more.”

You bat your lashes at him, smiling as if you're not bleeding profusely. “Please?”

He sighs, remembering the med kit you have in your cabinet for him whenever he comes home with various wounds after a harsh patrol. “No, I'll get a proper disinfectant.”

“But, alcohol works best on me—”

“No,” he chuckles nervously, feeling your warm crimson on his palms. “If this doesn't stop in a minute, ‘m bringin’ you to hospital.”

“It's just a cut, I need alcohol, that's all.”

Hobie stands up, hands on his hips. It's his turn to take care of you, no matter how stubborn you are. “Stay ‘ere, if you feel faint yell for me, yeah?”

You huff in your seat, surrendering to his coddling. “Okay,” he enters your bathroom, knowing what he's already rifling through. “I don't need stitches, Hobie!”

“If you keep bein' like this, I'll stitch you up.”

“Okay, doctor Frankenstein!” You blink away the sudden dizziness and black dots dancing in your vision. “Hey, Hobie.”

“Yeah?” He makes his way back to you with the med kit, senses blaring at him.

“I feel a bit light headed actually—” You fall forward, eyes rolling on the back of your head.

“Love—!” He catches you in time. Putting his arms around you to carry you in a bridal hold. Even with his thudding heart and heavy worry, he calmly brings you towards the front door. As he opens it, he's greeted by a group of costumed children, their screams of terror at your bloodied hand almost freezes him in place. “Shit, it's not—!” They run away from the house, still screaming in horror. “Damn it.”

As he carries you towards the car, he'll make sure you'll never hear the end of his teasing after you've come too and hopefully better after some treatment.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Shinning Like the Sun

Hi guys!

I have the new chant for Mariona in my head since yesterday, so this is my way to try to get ride of it 😂

It's kind of short and only fluff, I hope you'll enjoy it :)

Also if someone can tell me who make those gif, I try to find it back on Tumblr but I wasn't able to 😭

You smile while watching your girlfriend, walking behind her for twenty meters. You both just won your second game with Arsenal for the Champions League, and you feel like Mariona is literally glowing.

She’s walking with Vic, Vivienne Lia and Laia, all happily japing around. You know that she might be a little disappointed not to have scored today either, but she seems so happy right now that your heart clench with love for her.

Her move in north London had surprise a lot of people, she passed ten years of her life in Barcelona, in the same club. She was a very important player for the club, but she still chooses to come in Arsenal. You won’t complain about it, having your girlfriend after two years of being apart is something you really enjoy.

You both had a long discussion before her move, you wanted to be sure that she’s making this for the good reasons, not only for you. You were scared, you still are, that she realizes at one point how it was better when you just have the happily reunions and fun and sweet holidays together.

It seems to be perfect for now, but you are living apart of each other, even if you have to admit that the night you slept separately weren’t majority. Far from it to be honest.

It’s for the same reasons that you stay away from her for now, letting her enjoy her moment with the people who seems to become easily friends with her. You aren’t surprised, Mariona is sweet, kind, funny and always smiling. You feel like she took Barcelona’s sun with her.

“Staying away from the missus?”

You turn in the direction of the voice, smiling softly when you see Katie and Caitlin walking next to you. You shrug softly, you know it’s only a friendly teasing. They both tried to hide their relationship last year, before giving up and living their life like they wanted. It seems to be a pretty great idea, considering how happy they are.

“I just want to let her live her moment; you know?”

They both smile for any answer, and you look in Mario’s direction again. She’s now laughing with Alessia about something, probably the song Arsenal’s fan cooked for her. It probably will stay in your head for days, but you like it for now.

You walk around the pitch with Alessia and Kyra, before joining the rest of the team to hear a quick speech from Jonas. Leah smiles at you and pinch your ribs, like she always did when you played together and played well. It was the case today, you are pretty happy about your performance tonight.

When Jonas release all of you, Gooners are waiting for pictures and signatures, which you do happily. There are more people than when you began to play, but you like make people and kids happy. It’s only several minutes of your time and you enjoy it almost every time. You manage to spot the creeps pretty easily.

You gave your jersey to a little girl with cute blue eyes and a big smile, and you are in a black sport bra when you finally went to the locker room to take a shower and change. You spot Mariona not far from you, making her way probably in the same place and run to catch her.

When you are behind her, you pass your arms around her waist, tiptoeing to be able to kiss her cheek from behind. Her smile is beaming, and you are smiling too.

“Shake it Caldentey” you sing-tease her, your cheek against hers, your front against her back.

She laughs and manages to escape your arms, only to take her coat off. The weather isn’t awful tonight but it’s still way colder than Barcelona, so you aren’t surprised to see Mario wearing one of them. You didn’t expect her to put it on your shoulders, though.

“Aren’t you cold?” you ask, tightening the number 8’s coat around your body.

“A little, but you are the one half-naked here”

You hum and offer her one arm for her to side-cuddle while walking inside the tunnel going to the locker room. She doesn’t hesitate to go against you, and you went to kiss her cheek but sloppily went for somewhere behind her jaw and her neck. For your defense, you both were walking.

The Spaniard doesn’t seem to mind though, passing her arm around your waist for the last meters separating you from the locker room. You can hear the laughs and the music coming from it already.

You let Mariona go with a hint of regret when you are inside it, but you are soon taken by Kyra to dance around the room. Steph manages to save you from her after several minutes, letting you go take a shower. When you finish to prepare yourself, Mariona comes to sit on your cubby, quietly waiting for you.

“Are you both coming to have a drink?” Kyra asks you, suddenly popping next to you again.

“Oh” you say, glancing at Mariona.

To be honest, you would rather go somewhere with your girlfriend only. Maybe ordering something and relax in front of a movie. But maybe Mariona wants to go out with your teammates, you don’t want to deprive her of a good night.

You silently look at each other for several seconds, you trying to read into your girlfriend’s warm eyes.

“I… think… that we will go home” you answer slowly, still looking at Mariona.

The forward smiles at you and nod discreetly, filling you with relief when you understand that you have managed to correctly decipher her thoughts and wants.

“Ok Oldies, like you want”

You shush Kyra away with a foot on her ass, turning in Mario’s direction. She’s smiling again and you sometimes wonder how she never gets to hurt her cheeks. She stands up when you put your last things in your bag and grabs your hand when you leave, saying goodbye to everyone.

Leah and Beth keep you company until you reach your car, sharing a small talk with you. The night has fall for several hours now and the streetlights are on when you drive to leave the stadium.

“Yours or mine?” you ask her.

“Yours” she doesn’t hesitate. “Can I put some music?”

“Of course.”

You smile and roll your eyes when she puts some Spanish music on your Spotify. Since you know her, your algorithm doesn’t have any sense, but you like it. It was always nice to have a reminder of your girlfriend when you were driving around and she still lived in Barcelona.

To win some time, Mario looks for what you want to eat when you will be home. You let her choose and she’s still smiling when she passes your command. When you finally reach your house, you sigh of complacency before getting out of the car. You are living in St-Albans, like a lot of your teammates, in a semi-detached house with a garden.

You abandon your bag with your dirty clothes in the bathroom, choosing to make the laundry tomorrow. Mariona’s bag is waiting next to yours.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken a flat finally” Mariona comments with a grin from your couch.

You smile too, sitting next to her before cuddling against her. Her body is always warm and welcoming for you and you love it. You usually are more cold than warm so it’s the perfect contrast for you. You smile when she passes her hand under your hoodie, snuggling even more closer to her. You take advantage of your position to look at her, prodigiously ignoring the movie she had choose.

“You seem happy” you say carefully, not wanting to assume things.

She puts her eyes on you and smile softly before putting some hair behind your ear. Her touch send you shivers. She could have understand your sentence as happy right now, but she seems to catch what you mean easily.

“I am” she smiles. “It was hard to leave Barcelona after all this time, but London has even more to offer than I thought”

“Yeah?”

She nods, still smiling. You are looking deep in her eyes when you open your mouth again.

“So still no regrets?”

“No.”

Her hand stayed on your neck after she touch your hair and she uses it to take softly your face against her, kissing you lovingly. While you expend the kiss, she strokes your jaw with her thumb.

“I told you, I was sure it was what I needed. It’s not a surprise for me to see I was right.”

You smile shyly and kiss her one more time before getting back in your first position, you spread on her body. Unfortunately, this moment doesn’t last because soon the bell of your door is ringing in the house, making you jump.

“El sushi está aquí!”

You smile while looking at your girlfriend almost jumping to the door and gets up to go to your kitchen, to grab some extra soja sauce for the sushis. Salty for you, sweet for Mariona. You grab some things to drink too, finding Mariona on your couch, carefully opening the boxes she had choose. You let her decide, you have almost the same tastes for food. Except for soja sauce, maybe.

“I’ll cook something Spanish for you next time” Mariona says after several minutes.

You like to cook to be honest, but just after the games you don’t have necessarily the courage to do it. It’s easier to just use Uber Eat and chill on your couch while you are waiting for your food.

“I’ll help you” you smile.

Like this, you will be able to cook for her too. You don’t know any Spanish receipt but it’s not really a good excuse, you have a Smartphone, and you know how to read. Maybe you could surprise her with a tortilla or something like that. You really need to extend your knowledge on Spanish cooking.

That’s what you discreetly do when your plates are empty, and you are watching another movie. Mariona is now lying on you, her breathing slow and deep, informing you that she might have fall asleep. But you don’t mind.

Playing with her hair with one hand, you are scrolling in a website dedicated to Spain food and you learn a lot of things. Remembering where exactly your girlfriend comes from, you even search for specialties from Mallorca. You might not be able to find every ingredient of the receipts, but you will try your best to bring her some Spain touch in North London.

[caws5749]

Not Unnoticed Gestures

A/N: call me a motherfucking softie bc HOO BOI

"Yeah, but we need to consider that we aren't the only ones with powers," you added, looking at the large AI whiteboard in front of the group.

"You really think they experimented on them too?" Clint questioned.

Steve answered, giving you a moment to weigh the odds. A flash of something in the corner of your eye had you turning your head a moment later, brows raising at the mug filled with warm, fresh tea that now sat next to your laptop. You looked around and found Natasha taking her seat on the chair near Tony. You met her eyes and she sent a gentle, barely noticeable smile your way.

Your heart fluttered. It was these moments, those small gestures, the almost unnoticeable ones, that proved to you that she cared.

You and Natasha were.... well, you weren't quite sure. You weren't just friends... and you weren't together either. In a time when things were so uncertain, it was difficult to find time or the energy for a relationship. That didn't mean you both weren't aware of the love between the two of you.

It was the same in other ways.

"Is that what you would say, Romanoff?" you laughed, taunting her as you watched the sweat drip down her face, her chest heaving with the labored breaths that came with sparring.

Your head tilted, eyes falling to the blossoming bruise on her shoulder. You had a half second to purse your lips before you were thrown backwards.

"Watch it, Y/L/N," Nat smirked.

After you had showered, you found her in the living room. You gathered a bag of ice, wrapped it in paper towel to help with the cold, and brought it to her. You gently set it on your shoulder before walking away.

Natasha had watched you go, her green eyes nearly filling with tears at your observance and kindness. She'd made a mental note to leave you a small gift later.

When you'd stumbled into your room later that evening, half sore and half tipsy, you froze at the single flower on the nightstand. She hadn't left a note, she didn't need to.

It was as if the two of you knew only how to show love in the small gestures.

Like when late autumn had hit and you just couldn't quite shake the chill in the air. You couldn't stop shivering, sniffling constantly from your running nose. It had been a long day, and you were unwinding in the living room watching whatever show had sounded good to you.

The red-head entered, taking one look at you before pulling a blanket from the basket.

"It's like you can never get warm," she mused, equally amused and concerned as she threw the blanket over your shoulders. You couldn't help but feel that her hands lingered on you.

You shrugged. "It's cold. And I've always been this way."

She hummed, before standing. "Tea." She booped your freezing nose on the way out.

The little gestures were never unnoticed between the two of you. It was what you had and when the world became a little less hectic, when the two of you were ready, those little gestures would turn into much more.

[solspina]

In Unlovable Hand

Mephiston ⋆˙⟡

wrote this in 20 minutes, not proofread and it’s 7am. need this man out of my head immediately, i have a dante fic marinating in my drafts please let me release it… mephiston is holding me hostage (kidding of course i love you husband)

Sanguinius’ former serf is called to take care of the Lord of Death’s horribly neglected wings for the who-knows-what-number time. The tension is higher this time than it was the last, and the two decide to hit it off into something absolutely miserable. oh

warnings: some sanguinius x reader mentions, toxic relationship dynamics, manipulation, blood, lil bit of biting

Mephiston lay completely still, wings uncomfortably outstretched, eyes baggy and half-lidded.

His chest felt painfully empty, it always did, but more so in the presence of the woman who preened at his psychic wings and dug stubborn feathers out of the creases he couldn't reach. A servant of Sanguinius, she used to be. He could feel her persecuting gaze burning at the back of his skull (at least he thought he could), and he could feel her fingers pulling at some of his oily black quills far too harshly. Still, he did not move, his face remained expressionless and stoic instead as he wondered whether or not she had a knife tucked securely somewhere in her clothing, and whether he would feel it's blade make a home between his shoulder blades at any given time.

His muscles involuntarily twitched at the pain in his wing as she pulled out a particular feather, and his face contorted into a wince.

“I apologize… just a blood feather… It wasn’t quite ready but you will not bleed.” She whispered from behind him, taking note of the way his back muscles had tensed after his small outburst of pain. “The quill was cracked.”

She seemed satisfied at the way he buried his face back into his pillow, still clearly in pain. She stroked at the area she pulled the massive feather from with one hand as she held it in the other, watching it disappear like floating ashes into thin air as it were severed from Mephiston’s psychic bond with his wings, no longer tethered down to reality.

She sat on her knees while she continued her work upon the lord of death’s wings as he fought sleep, sprawled out in front of her like a bird on a surgical table. At the very least, the silk sheets the two of them sat on top of were comfortable. She could feel them on the skin of her legs and did not blame him for his display of exhaustion, or his frustration from the inability to fall asleep.

“I don’t think i’ve ever seen wings as unkempt as yours.” She said. She teased him to keep him awake, hoping that he wouldn’t fall asleep and leave her to sneak out of the room so she didn’t wake him. “I say this even after i’ve seen some rather questionable mutants.”

“Mutants were human at one point too." He replied rather harshly. "They can be communal, the winged ones will have their parents teach them how to care for their wings.” His voice was cold, empty but somehow aggressive and sour alongside it. Whether his tone was toward her or toward Sanguinius for giving him - and him alone - such a gift without teaching him how to care for it, she did not know.

A heavy pause rung through the air, and she swore she could hear his hearts pounding slowly in his chest. “Why do you only ever sulk when i’m around, my lord?”

Truth be told, he had not been prepared for her to ask such a question, regardless of whether or not he had an answer. There were many that could be applied to what she was asking, many reasons for his brooding nature that she got to see much more often than his brothers. Perhaps it was because she knew the angel personally that he felt safe enough to sulk and express his exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that he knew her opinion wouldn’t change no matter his mood, she would hate him for what he was regardless. He rejected his father’s gifts. He conquered them, and his own brothers hated him for it.

Astorath wanted him dead.

Dante almost approved.

Gabriel Seth spared not a single glance before he called him an abomination.

What was it she would do?

She knew what he was. The black angel, half of sanguinius’ soul, a vessel for the most horrible things about a man she loved ten thousand years ago. Even the care she provided him with, the preening of his wings and the frequent meetings with him, were simply an attempt at appeasing the angel’s soul. She gained time with a fragment of her long gone lover, and Mephiston got to pretend that someone cared for him beyond his use as a vessel and a monster.

As if feeling his thoughts, she removed her hands from his wings - modeled perfectly after his father’s - and placed her hands upon the cold skin of his back instead.

He let out a small groan as her knuckles buried themselves into his shoulders and ran down into the lower areas of his back. Her hands moved with greater precision than he thought possible up and down his spine, kneading their way through tense and aching muscles as his jaw fell slack from pure pleasure and his eyes failed to resist the need to roll back, or close, or something that wasn’t staring into oblivion.

“Relax, oh lord of death… am I hurting you?” She replied to his short series of quivering breaths and whimpers before he relaxed into her palms.

“No… just… feels good…” He managed to let out as years of aching pain were rubbed away by the hands of his father’s closest servant. She achieved with ease the effect upon him that the medicae strived for, but their hands always left his back sore and tight.

He hated this. He needed out. She was merely using him to get closer to something she missed and he saw that clearly.

“You’re just like the angel, when I did this to him for the first time.” She giggled, her voice full of warmth. His erratic breathing calmed at the sound of her amusement with his poorly repressed panic. “You’re finally seen, your flaws are on display, and it scares you. You want to run, to be perfect again, but you want just as badly to allow yourself to melt away… To not matter for even just a moment.” She leaned down toward where his head lay and flattened her hand between his shoulders, allowing her nails to scratch gently at his skin in comfort. “so melt, mephiston. I am here with you now.”

“Why are you doing this” He whispered, doing his best to keep his composure against the sensations she brought him. “Why are you pretending you’re not doing this for him.”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?” Her voice was full of warmth, admiration, care, something he had heard from no one since the day Calistarius had died and the search parties had given up on searching for him. “And why do you lay here, pretending you don’t enjoy the company? I’m here because I lo-“

“Don’t you dare say that word to me.”

He turned to face her, propping up his tired body on his elbows and allowing deep brown eyes to stare accusingly into hers. He bared his fangs ever so slightly, attempting to intimidate her, but she simply smiled and removed her hand from his back, moving it instead to place her palm upon his cheek, ignoring his snarl and running her thumb along his ivory skin. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he held them in incredibly well.

If he truly wanted her silent, he could kill her effortlessly. It would take nothing more than a wave of his hand or a particularly accusing glance. He could boil her blood from the inside, rewrite her vital human functions with surgical precision using his mind alone. He could read her mind, find out exactly what she wanted from him, find out that she saw him as nothing more than a vessel for the angel, uncover her motives to use him.

“I will hurt you... do things angel never did... I am capable of things even he wasn't.” He whispered, his body eerily still save for his breathing. His hearts seemed to calm to a deadly pace, the hidden red within his eyes showing through as his face contorted into something far too empty for her comfort.

"I doubt-"

He grabbed the wrist that held his face and sunk his teeth into her palm. He fought the urge to smile through his own tears at the pained shock across her face. His fangs penetrated her skin like the nails that held a certain old terran messiah to his cross, leaving a wound deep enough that it would not ever heal, and perhaps would paralyze her hand if not treated in time.

The thirst had left him long ago, yet that didn’t stop him from basking in the warmth of the crimson that poured down his throat, some of it made its way down his chin and disappeared into the scarlet sheets beneath the two of them. He looked up at her and bit down harder before releasing his jaw, proud of himself for his reclaim of power over her after she had spent hours taunting him. If she did not hate him before, she had to now.

“Now tell me the truth, and i’ll heal that wound before it renders your hand useless.”

Her face remained blank through the tears pouring down her face as she sobbed and gasped in pain. Still, she placed her trembling, bleeding hand upon his cheek once more. “I love you.” she said as her vision began to fade to black through her pain. “Nothing you do… w-will… Meph…”

Her eyes closed, and her body fell limp against the mattress. He lay still again against the bed as he grabbed her hand and allowed his energy to flow through it, watching intently as her nerves, muscle, and then skin repaired themselves as if his teeth had never made their mark.

His wings manifested upon his back as he draped one over her, allowing its warmth to heat her body and radiate through her own aching limbs.

“Servant of Sanguinius…”

His whispers were near silent against her skin, his words more of a promise to himself than they were speech to her unconscious form.

“Servant of mine… Don’t make me regret this.”

[sweetdispatch]

Memories - M. Rempe

Songs masterlist

song: Memories - Conan Gray

pairing: Matt Rempe x ex girlfriend!reader

summary: Matt broke up with her out of nowhere. Now he wants to repay the damage. Will she let him?

warning: none

words: 1.1k

note: getting super close to end of the series☹️

---

She and Matt were a perfect match. They met in Seattle when both were 17 and since then, they’d been together. He loved how she got along with his family and she loved how caring and loving he was. For the next couple years, everything was going smoothly and despite their young age, they imagined their future together. 

It all changed when Matt had to move to Hartford. She didn’t want to drop her life and go with him on the other side of the country. Her whole life was in Seattle and she wanted it to stay like that, at least until she graduates in college. He understood this and they agreed to on long distance relationship. 

Everything went down right after New Year's Eve. Matt became cold towards her. She couldn’t understand what went wrong and tried to talk with him. She flew to Connecticut to confront him. What she hadn't expected was the fact that she’s about to come back home single and heartbroken. He just ended things with her without any proper reasoning. 

That’s just about enough time

For me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures

It’s been six months since Matt broke up with her. It was a difficult time for her. He was her first love. They’ve been together for four years and he just decided to throw out their relationship just because. She still didn’t know why he had done it. She was questioning herself and truly believed that she was the problem.

She cried herself to sleep every night. She was mourning over their relationship. Her friends tried to help her to forget about him but she couldn't. After half of a year, she finally felt like she had control over her life again. When someone mentioned him, she didn’t cry. She just shrugged her shoulders. It was still hurtful for her, but she moved on. 

I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance

After graduation, she decided to change her apartment. This one brought her too many memories about Matt. It was a chilly June day when she was packing her things into boxes. She heard knocking on her door and thought one of her friends came to help her. What she hadn't expected was Matt standing in front of her with roses.

She froze on the spot. She hadn't knew how to react. She thought that she would never see him again yet Matt was standing in the entry, hopeful that she will let him in. He snapped her out of the trance when he asked if he can come in. She moved so he could enter her apartment. He was surprised to see all the boxes. Still, she hasn't said a word to him. She hadn’t had anything to say to him. 

I wish that you would stay in my memories

Matt tried to give her flowers but she crossed her arms on her chest. He started apologising her. He said how much he missed her and how miserable his life is without her. She hadn’t said anything. He was having a monologue but still, he was speaking to her and tried to convince her to say anything back. She started crying while he was explaining himself.

All the memories came back to her. When Matt was talking it felt so natural, just like it was before they broke up, when he was rambling after coming back from games. It hurt her. He opened her wound in heart that he left which she had healed by now. She hated it. As much as she loved him, she didn’t want to see or hear from him ever again.

I can’t be your friend, can’t be your lover

Matt stopped talking. He was looking at her and waited for her move. She took a deep breath before she spoke. She threw all her pain at him and how she felt unwanted and unlovable by the way he ended things between them. Now he was the one who started crying. He never thought how much he hurt her. He regretted it and asked her if they could be at least friends.

She laughed at him. She never thought that Matt could be so bold to ask this stupid question. As much as she wanted it, she knew that the right call was to completely cut him off. She felt that if they became friends, it would turn into a relationship. She didn’t need this mess again. He was pleading with her but she was stubborn and put herself in the first place. 

I guess I’ll let you stay

For as long as it takes

To grab your books and your coat

After she told him that this is over, she returned to packing. Matt asked if he can at least help her and then he will leave her forever, on what she agreed. When he started gathering things from the drawer, she stopped him. She told him that he can help her but by picking up his things. She didn’t want to have anything related to him. 

Matt listened to her and started from his books. All the memories came to him when he was reading her those books so she could fall asleep. Later he went to her bathroom and took his cosmetics. He was surprised that she still kept them, certain, that she threw them away when he broke up with her. After that, he went to her bedroom to clean his nightstand. It was untouched. There was still their picture from prom on which he used to look every night before going to sleep. He smiled seeing how happy they were. 

At the end, Matt went to her wardrobe. He opened it and saw only his clothes. He was standing in front of it when she came through the door and told him that she cleaned it from her clothes and only his are left. The amount of his t-shirts and hoodies made him sad. He loved seeing her in his clothes. They were too big for her but she looked so hot walking around in them. He missed this view.

When Matt grabbed all his things, he looked at her hoping that she had changed her mind. This hadn’t happened. She thanked him for the help and joked that he saved her the money from sending those things to him. He sadly smiled at her and said final goodbye. The minute he left, she started crying. His presence felt normal to her but she knew it’s the only option for her. She needed to protect herself from being hurt again by him.

[burst-of-iridescent]

What would change in the Zutara ship/dynamic and/or Zuko and Katara individually if Zuko didn't betray Katara in Ba Sing Se and immediately chose her?

i think most canon divergent zutara fanfictions get it right: they'd probably become close friends in no time, and develop a dynamic similar to what they have in the ember island players. but there's a reason this scenario is best left to fanon - as fun as it would be to see more zutara bonding in the first half of book three, there's always something lost for something gained, and in this case it would likely come at the cost of the depth and intimacy they developed in canon through the WAT and TSR arcs.

it is vitally important to their relationship development that katara gets to be deeply, righteously angry at zuko, and particularly that she goes on her field trip to find yon rha while they're still not on friendly terms. not only does her anger bar her from instinctually falling into a caretaking role with zuko as she does with most of the gaang at one point or another, allowing her to be cared for rather than being the carer, it also frees her from feeling like she needs to fit into any perceived image he might have of her. katara makes it clear to zuko that she owes him nothing - least of all her friendship, and everything that entails.

and it is this very lack of obligation that gives katara the freedom to be wholly and entirely herself. people always point to how katara behaves "uncharacteristically" in the southern raiders to prove that zuko is a bad influence, but the truth is that the way she acts in tsr is an inherent part of who she is. katara can be cold, furious and vengeful just as she can be warm, compassionate and friendly, and the fact that she can freely show both sides to zuko isn't because he's pushing her to be someone she's not, but because she has no need to live up to an idealised version of herself.

this would likely still apply to a degree in a no-betrayal au (tsr would happen in any version of book 3, just because it's so significant to katara's arc), but i find it probable that katara might be more hesitant about bringing zuko along, or less willing to bloodbend before him so readily. katara has to witness zuko's lowest point before she allows him to see hers. she has to take her dark-night-of-the-soul journey with someone she knows has neither the right nor the willingness to condemn her choices, in order to be able to focus entirely on herself and what she needs. very telling that she doesn't ask aang, her future husband, to go with her for support.

it's because zuko allows himself to be a whetstone for the blade of her fury, because he cares enough to find out why, because he tries to help when she's given him no reason to do so, because he stands shoulder-to-shoulder with her at her darkest, most conflicted hour without forcing her to bear the burden of caring what he thinks or feels about it, that katara is able to forgive and befriend him. it is because they see each other at their highest and lowest moments that they're able to have the deepest and most intimate relationship of anyone in the gaang. and none of that would've happened without the betrayal in ba sing se.

after all, love is brightest in the dark.

[yeostars]

౨ৎ♡ | Heartstrings and tears |

• J. YH .ᐟ •

•pairing- bf .ᐟ jeong yunho x reader .ᐟ

•synopsis- wherein yunho and y/n have an argument late at night, y/n leaves their apartment for some space while walking to clear out her thoughts without informing yunho. both of them are mad at each other, but are worried about the latter at the same time. Cold shoulders. Him kissing away your tears. (a happy ending at the end dw)

•genre- angst, fluff at the end

•warnings- just some high tension and aggression throughout the story. tears and sarcasm, arguments, typical argument and resolving conflicts

•author's note- randomly thought of this fic idea in the morning, and i had it all planned out so i decided to write it in the eve itself. I still have my ongoing hwa and yeo fic left to complete, I'll post them soon after this i swear ! this is my first written imagine on a specific member, hope you enjoy reading !

───────────✰✰✰✰✰──────────

In the dimly lit apartment, tension hung in the air like an invaded storm. You sat on the extreme far end of the sofa, wanting to be as distant from your boyfriend, as you could, at the moment. Arguments barely took place between you and Yunho in the course of your relationship. Then what had led you to have one, at this moment, which left both of you frustrated along with your anguished emotions bubbling up to the surface?

Well, this argument was a result of your small pent up issues and minor conflicts. Both of you bottled up such opinions and worries you had for yourselves and for each other, and finally, a fully blown argument involving sharp and harsh words towards each other took place. Not to mention the fact that both you and Yunho were stubborn and childish, hence sarcastic remarks throughout the argument was a must.

Yunho's lips released a profound sigh, and you could practically feel his frustration and anger from that sigh. He got up, gave you one last glance and retreated to the bedroom. You didn't even glance at him all this time while he left. All you did was stare at the floor, as the echo of the closing door of his room resonated in your ears.

You lolled your head back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. No. Just no. You couldn't bear this atmosphere with unresolved tension anymore. You needed some space, too. Perhaps, the idea of a night walk didn't seem so bad to you. You needed this to clear out your thoughts or else you couldn't face Yunho. Not at the moment, atleast.

You stood up and lingered across the door of his room, and after giving the closed door one last glance, you picked up your phone & the spare keys of your apartment, put on your slippers and headed out of the apartment, closing the door very softly.

After what seemed like half an hour, Yunho finally got out of the bedroom and walked towards the deserted living room, as if ready to face you & resolve the argument once and for all. As he scanned the empty and silent living room, worry etched across his forehead lines as his brows furrowed. He hurriedly went to the kitchen and your room, the bathroom and possibly checked every corner of your house to find you. No trace of you. You were nowhere to be found...

Is she insane? Yunho mumbled, as his eyes lingered across the big circle clock in the living room, reading the time. 11.45. Where the hell did she go this late at night? Without even informing or texting me.... he thought, as he immediately went to the bedroom to reach out for his phone & came back to the living room to sit on the sofa again, his phone in the palm of his hands, his fingers lingering on your number in the messaging app.

He contemplated for a while, what kind of text he should send you, or weather he should text you at all. He understood that you probably went out to get some space & to let everything sink in, but without even informing him...? Didn't you know that the person he worried and cared for the most was you..?

He realized that you were giving him the silent treatment. A cold shoulder, perhaps, and he decided to reciprocate this silent treatment of yours. Yunho sat there, with a blank expression on his face, scrolling through all sorts of comedy videos on social media but none of them even made him smile an inch, let alone laugh. His thoughts were consumed by your whereabouts and your argument that took place earlier.

Minutes passed, as the feelings of worry, guilt, frustration, anger and desperation consumed him. He finally decided to push his ego aside and text you because hell, he couldn't bear this anymore. He wanted to resolve all of this. He longed to see your smile, longed to cuddle and kiss you, longed to just be with you and end this damn argument.

Yunho impatiently waited for you to come back home, his feet tapping the floor every second. He recollected himself and thought of how he'd face you and what he would say when he faced you. Well, half of it depended on how you were. Were you mad? Were you still upset? All these thoughts were held at a standstill as he heard the loud doorbell of your apartment.

He stood up in a jiffy, opening the door to reveal you, safe and sound, in front of him. Your palms reached at the back of your neck, clearly a little embarrassed as Yunho stepped aside to let you in. You still stared only at the floor and nowhere else. The farthest you could glance at was Yunho's black sweatshirt. You just couldn't meet his eyes, and your boyfriend stared at you with such intensity & the cold expression on his face was something you wouldn't want to see.

"You're unbelievable, you know that? Informing me that you were going out or even texting me wouldn't hurt, Y/N. Especially after our heated argument, what emotions did u expect me to have after you left home without a single word? Do you know how worried i was?!" He said this, in a tone higher than usual. He almost regretted it after a second and thought he should've apologised to you first..

You had to admit, though, it wasn't the best decision to leave home without informing or texting him, so it was right for him to get mad over that. But, you had a right to be mad, too, he said quite a few sharp words during your argument earlier that stung you right in the heart.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Don't you think you have something to apologize for, too, Yunho?" You said, stuttering a little.

"I know i do. Would you atleast look at me, though? You've been staring at the floor ever since. Look me right in the eye, please." He pleaded, coming a step closer to you.

Your heart immediately picked up its pace as you stared at your boyfriend in front of you, his expression filled with regret and guilt.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/N. For everything earlier. For those harsh words and that... attitude. But you have to know that you're just as stubborn as me. To be honest, i realized that whatever we were arguing about earlier was childish and wasn't worth for us being mad at each other. Forgive me please. I can't bear all this tension and just want to see you smile." He said all that at one go, as if he already had figured out what he'd say to you once you're back home.

You bit your lips as you stared at him, his words and his apology ringing in your ears like an echo. Before you even knew it, tears starting streaming down your face, as you took everything in. Yunho's gaze towards you softened, and nothing hurt him more than seeing you cry. You rarely ever cried in front of him and the fact that you were, right now, almost made him want to cry too.

He immediately came closer towards you, his left hand sliding behind your waist and right hand behind your head, pulling you closer to his chest. "You know, seeing you cry hurts me a lot. I feel like crying too now.." he said, softly patting your head as you calmed down. As you cried for a minute or two in his arms, you pulled back, still in his embrace, to look at him. "I'm sorry, too. I hate arguing with you. Especially since you're the sweetest and kindest person i've ever seen in my life. Instead of being angry at you, i was angrier at myself. You never say such harsh words, so i felt like i must've done or said something really bad to have you react like that." You said, your voice breaking a little, a few tears streaming down your face.

"Don't say stuff like that, y/n. I'm the guilty one here, too. Don't blame yourself only because as a matter of fact, we were both childish and egoistic" He said, and suddenly you felt the palm of his hand at your head slide down lower to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, as his lips glided effortlessly to the tears on your cheeks.

Did he...just kiss my tears away?!? You wondered as he finally rested his forehead against yours, waiting for you to say something.

Instead of replying to him, you were the one who pulled him closer by the neck now, your lips instantly connecting with his. Yunho's eyes widened in surprise, yet he picked up the pace of the kiss in a second and kissed you back just as passionately as you did. Both his arms were resting against your waist now, as the both of you just kissed and felt each others love in silence.

As you pulled back, panting, in the dire need of some air, a blush immediately formed on your cheeks. Yunho noticed that and smirked, ruffling your hair in endearment.

"Hey, you're the one who started the kiss & you're being shy now..?" He questioned, chuckling.

"S-so what? You're way too good of a kisser & that's the most normal reaction i could ever have." You said, all flustered.

"I'm way too good of a kisser, hm? Well then, would you mind doing something more than just kissing..?" He asked, smirking yet again.

"Tonight...? No way, Yunho. You know that we've both got work tomorrow. Probably tomorrow night since its the weekend later, if you're good enough to me." You say, joking.

"Good enough?! Aren't i always good enough to you, darling?" He said, purposely adding darling at the end to make you even more flustered than you already are.

"W-whatever. Anyways, lets go sleep now, its past one o'clock for gods sake." You said, reaching out for his hand, as the both of you walked towards the bedroom, reaching out towards your respective wardrobes to change into your nightclothes.

"I love you." You mumble to Yunho besides you, just as you're about to sleep.

"I love you too, Y/N. More than you'll ever know. Lets never argue again, all it does is waste our time." Yunho said, turning off the lights as you nodded, the both of you having a sound and relaxed sleep because of your resolved argument.

[highhhfiveee]

Mike x reader, with reader who works long hours during the daytime and Mike working at night which results in them barely having time to see eachother besides from dinner and bedtime

oh, you wanted angst fr 🥲 i think it could go either way, but honestly angst is what stood out to me first. i’m going to make this sadder too, just because i can 💜

to crumble

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: y/n and mike find their relationship at a dead end. wc: 2.3k tags: angst, pain, prescription drug mentions, fluff and cuteness in the beginning but not for long. mdni. part 2 here: 🏳️

all i can think ab is the unbearable pain that replaces the love in your hearts as time goes on.

you’ve been together for half a year. things were fun at first, but once you decide to move in to help with abby, you start to see the cracks in the foundation.

in this one, reader works two jobs (bc let’s face it, this is unfortunately realistic); teaching from 9-4 and cashiering from 5-8:30. mike doesn’t want you working two jobs and you didn’t want to, but you knew that your salaries combined wouldn’t keep you afloat. abby’s school is expensive, and so is everything else in life. the extra money you get from cashiering gives you guys flexibility. 

every morning at 6:30, monday to friday, you wake up alone. even though you know it’ll probably be empty, you still reach your arm over to run it over mike’s side. it’s always cold and flat, completely untouched. 

you brush this off at first; it's one of the things that comes with him working overnight and you know he needs this job so that he can keep abby. you want that for him and know that love is sacrifice. 

you wake abby up and start getting her ready in between fixing yourself up; brushing her teeth while you brush yours, letting her get a few more minutes of sleep in while you throw on your clothes, guiding her through packing her bag while you make breakfast. by that time, closer to 7:30, mike is finally walking into the house. 

his eyes are hooded and surrounded by dark bags and you can tell he's exhausted from the way he hangs his things up lethargically. he kisses abby, who's running around collecting things, on the head, then ambles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing along your neck. 

they're soft, gentle actions that make you forget about not being able to do things like this at night. it doesn't matter when you have mornings with him, even if it's only 30 minutes before you have to go. you giggle and reach a hand up to his cheek, kissing him on his other one. 

"missed you," you whisper.

"missed you too," he mumbles back, planting a kiss on your lips before stalking away to ask abby something. 

you all eat breakfast together, and then you're slipping abby's coat over her shoulders before you put on your own. you usher her to the car and give mike one last kiss before you leave, a deep one that you hope he feels all day. when you pull away, you can see the affection sparkling in his eyes, low and tired but expressive nonetheless. 

"i love you," he whispers, his sleepiness masquerading as love-drunkeness. 

"i love you, mike. get some rest, okay?" 

you drop abby off, wishing her well, before you're alone for the next 12 hours. it often drags. at your teaching job, you feel as if it's just passing you buy in waves, everything whizzing past you at light speed. you're aware that you're in front of the kids, but then you just blackout. you're thrown into autopilot, and you do this over and over until your lunch break at 1. you text mike to pass the time.

sometimes it's something silly, like "god i do not get paid enough" or "a kid just ate glue /: send help", to which mike will respond "😂😂😂" or "lol you deserve millions (:". he makes you laugh, and it's enough to help you push through the end of the day. 

he picks up abby from school, asking her all about her day and what she wants for dinner. he'll text you what she says so you know what to expect when you get home, like "meatloaf 🍖🍞 (:" or "chicken alfredo 0: fancy". 

for you, transitioning from teaching to customer service was easy; all you had to do was maintain that same autopilot: smile on, eyes alert, prepared for anything. no one suspected a thing when you could keep up and answer their questions. 

mike helps abby with her homework, scratching his head with the eraser of a pencil when he draws blanks on a math or history question. abby only sighs, telling him about something off-topic. "art class is much more interesting." 

mike starts dinner while you're closing up at work, sweeping the front end of the store and counting down your drawer. he lets abby help sometimes, and they usually have it ready for you by the time you're home at 9. 

abby meets you at the door, and you hug her tight, picking her up and waltzing her back into the house. mike is setting the dining table, greeting you with a sleepy smile and, "the queen has arrived."

you all sit down and eat, and it's another one of those moments where everything feels okay. the last 12 hours didn't matter when you were able to have this at the end of it. 

you tell abby and mike about your day over spaghetti, spilling details about prideful parents and spiteful customers. abby laughs all throughout, asking questions about being a cashier. mike just listens, eyes and heart floating between the two of you. 

you clear the table while mike goes to get ready for work, and a wash of dread passes over you. your brain knows what's happening next. you'll kiss him goodbye, clinging to his hoodie sleeve for a second longer than you should, and then you'll settle down with abby, bathing her and reading her to sleep. then you'll be alone. it will just be you and the screech of infomercials until midnight, and then you'll be off to sleep, snuggling into a pillow that smells like mike. 

you push the feeling away, shaking your head and hands and doing just as you know. there's the kiss, the night routine with abby, and the moment you sit on the couch, surrounded by tv light and the croaking of cicadas. 

mike doesn't text during his shift unless it's an emergency. it makes you sad, but you understand. security requires focus, and you require sleep. 

for a while, this works. it's what you and mike have to do to make ends meet, and while you both think that it'll only get better with more time at it, it doesn't. 

you still wake up alone and go through the same rhythm, but when mike comes in around 7:30, it's not 7:30 anymore. it's 7:39, then 7:45, then 7:58. the latest he's ever been, so late that you're not able to eat with him. he shrugs it off when you mention it, kissing your cheek and retreating to the bedroom to sleep.

you drop abby off as usual, and go to work. work. work. work. 

mike starts missing your lunch break texts, sometimes dozing dangerously close to when abby's school lets out. while your class works, you bitterly stare at your text conversation. your unanswered "shaping america's future is kinda sick" message stares back at you until it's replaced by abby's school calling. your heart drops to your stomach as you step out of the room to take the call, answering the phone with, "is she okay?" 

mike didn't pick her up. she's out at 2:30 and it's 3:30 now, and she's crying and scared because he didn't pick up the phone, and she always calls him first. 

you leave work in a flurry, asking a fellow teacher to take over, and you speed to abby's school, not caring about tickets or police or anything. you only want to get her home.

mike is dashing out of the door when you pull up, wrenching a sobbing abby out of your backseat and clutching her close. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes, smoothing her hair and looking up at you with regret etched into every feature on his face.

you try your best to hide your upset, ushering everyone inside before changing into your work clothes. you were going to be late, but you shake it off. abby was home and that was all that mattered. 

"hey," mike reaches out to you when you're on your way out. his fingers graze their way down to your hand, and it makes you wish that you could stay home. "thanks for that. i've just been super tired lately and i overslept and---"

"it's okay, baby," you give him a tight lipped smile and a kiss on the knuckles. "just don't let it happen again." 

it happens again. and again. and again. it happens so many times that abby starts to think mike is forgetting about her, and you don't know how to get that out of her head. she cries about it more and more with each time you have to pick her up. he stops running out to apologize, still asleep inside. 

you rush into the bedroom. he's splayed out over the bed, snoring loudly with his arm hanging over the side. you find an orange pill bottle on his nightstand. an old ambien prescription. 

you argue with him before work sometimes.

"what do you need ambien for?"

"i can't sleep." 

"but every morning, you skip breakfast to sleep."

"i do fall asleep, but i started waking up out of it. i just take the ambien to help me fall again."

"what time do you take it?"

"i don't know, y/n."

"why are you lying to me?"

"i'm not." 

"what time?" you cry, grasping at your chest. a sharp pains thud through your ribcage, and you literally sob. it feels like your heart is tearing in two. "you stare at times, mike. what time do you take the ambien?" 

he doesn't answer you and he doesn't know why. it would be so easy to tell you that he takes it at 9 or 10, and that he believes he'll be able to wake himself up around 2 but he doesn't. he can’t sleep without the ambien. he needs it now because he kept himself up in the early days of this, mind toiling over their situation, the endless reassurance that this would work sending him into insomnia. 

you leave when he doesn't answer, wiping at your watery eyes and runny nose. 

you cashier as a shell of yourself. abby stops asking mike for homework help, and eventually he stops cooking dinner too, trading all that time in for extra sleep after picking her up. you have to explain the situation to your retail store manager, just in case mike forgets again, and start looking after abby more. mike only ever made time to spend with her on the weekends, content with awkward moments over lunch and low energy bickering.

the lunch break texts stop. the dinner texts stop.

he's dressed and ready to leave when you get home these days, prepared to exit as you enter. you don't know what to say as you face each other in the doorway, eyes focused on anything but each other. you don’t even kiss anymore.

"i think abby's asleep already."

you shake your head. "i think she's really sad. she hasn't been coming out of there like she used to. she misses you." 

"i miss her too, of course. i'm just busy." 

"all you do is work, mike," you deadpan, exhausted with him. you never thought you'd ever get to a point where you looked at mike, the sure love of your life, with disdain, but you felt it creep into you ever so slightly. 

"yeah, i know. it fucking sucks, but it's what i have to do to keep abby."

you scoff, scooting past him to take your coat and bag off. "as if you're going to keep her by leaving her at school everyday." it's supposed to be under your breath, but the disdain creeps onto your tongue, bitter and raging, and you say it aloud, to his face. 

his jaw clenches and his brown eyes burn, staring you down with an unrelenting severity. you hunch yourself over, dropping your head and sighing out, "mike, i'm sorry. i didn--" 

he leaves without another word. 

how it got to this, neither of you know. not even the weekends healed anymore. mike caught up on sleep, you caught up on grading, and in your downtime, you avoided each other. for him, it felt easier than being around you. you were irritable all the time, a quick fuse with any word he could think to speak. 

for you, it seemed like it was what he wanted. time away from you, from abby, from everyone; time to be alone and recharge for the only thing he ever did, the only thing that was keeping his sister in his care. 

you didn't even remember what his touch felt like, what he tasted like. the man that you loved had become but a memory, a ghost that passed through your plane. you’re able to imagine his fluffy hair, his perfect smile, his laugh, his rich smell, but none of it mattered. he didn’t feel like yours anymore. 

you suppose it was the same for him, with you existing in the same space but only tangible to him some of the time. he would catch glimpses of your smile, laughing at something on your phone, or talking to abby, meet your eyes when you shuffled back to the bedroom from the bathroom, rimmed in red from crying for the last 30 minutes.

he starts sleeping on the couch, unable to even lay beside you. 

mike does a lot of crying. a lot of screaming into his pillow, wondering why he fucks these things up so badly. you do the same, wondering why you stay in situations that hurt you.

this goes on for longer than you two would like, so long that you don't even celebrate your one-year anniversary.

the day passes without noise, mike sleeping and you working.

a prequel of sorts : x

THIS WAS SO FUCKING LONG MY BBBBBBBB OMG. i did NOT mean to go this deep in, i just felt SOOOOO MUCH! my little brain got sad ): i could go deeper into this too one day, breaking up moments into specific little blurbs or ficlets d: let me know if y'all even enjoyed this lmaooo off to write for Halloween lol

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us IX

Summary:

In the wake of Y.N's departure, Aemond wallows in his heartbreak until a surprising person comes to his aid and as certain revelations come to light Aemond is determined to fight for his relationship and show Y.N how much he loves her.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Swearing, Idiocy, Revelations, Memories, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 7340

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

The days that followed Y.N.’s departure blurred into an agonizing haze for Aemond. He spent most of his time on the sofa, whiskey bottle in hand, sinking deeper into despair.

The once pristine penthouse was now littered with empty bottles, discarded clothes, and half-eaten food. He hadn't showered, hadn't gone to work. He was lost in his grief, his regret festering with every passing hour.

He lay face down on the sofa, the leather cold against his skin as the weight of everything bore down on him. His thoughts spiralled as the familiar sting of tears pricked his eye again.

The door creaked open, but he didn’t bother to move. He assumed it was some kind of hallucination, a product of his misery coming to taunt him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. Startled, he turned his head and blinked up at the figure standing beside him.

It was Aegon.

Without a word, Aegon knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around Aemond’s trembling body, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace.

Aemond’s resolve crumbled completely. The sobs he had been trying to suppress for days burst out, raw and broken, as he clung to his brother like a lifeline.

Aegon held him firmly, his hand gently running over the back of Aemond’s head, hushing him softly. "It’s okay," he whispered. "Just let it out, Aemond. I’ve got you."

Aemond's words were barely coherent through the tears. "How-how did you know?" he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow.

Aegon sighed softly, still holding him. "Y.N”

Aemond pulled back slightly, his swollen eye searching his brother’s face. "Is she with you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperate for any hint of hope.

Aegon shook his head, his expression soft with sympathy. "No, she’s not. She called and asked me to come check on you”

“D-Do you know where she is?” asked Aemond.

“No. She didn’t tell me where she is. She just-wanted to make sure you were okay."

Aemond’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She hadn’t abandoned him completely—she still cared enough to send Aegon.

But the uncertainty of where she was, whether she’d ever come back, gnawed at him like a festering wound.

"I’ve lost her, Aegon," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’ve lost everything."

Aegon looked at him with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You haven’t lost everything. You’ve still got a chance to fix this, but not if you keep drowning yourself in booze." He glanced around the messy penthouse and sighed. "You need to pull yourself together, brother."

Aemond shook his head, tears spilling down his face again. "I don’t know if I can. I pushed her away. I let Alys-I let her ruin everything."

Aegon tightened his grip on his shoulder. "You made a mistake. But you don’t get to give up now. Not on her, not on Jack." His voice softened, filled with an unusual tenderness. "She loves you, Aemond. I’ve seen it. And you love her. So, fight for her. Fight for your family."

Aemond swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe the tears from his face. He was a mess, broken beyond recognition.

But Aegon’s words pierced through the fog of despair just enough to remind him of what he still had—a chance, however small, to make things right.

"Where do I even start?" Aemond whispered, more to himself than to Aegon.

Aegon gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Start by cleaning yourself up. Get back on your feet. And when she’s ready to listen, you tell her everything. You show her how much she means to you. But first, you need to be the man she fell in love with—not this."

Aemond nodded weakly, the weight of his guilt and sorrow still heavy on his chest, but for the first time in days, a faint glimmer of hope flickered inside him.

He wasn’t ready to give up on Y.N. Not yet.

After days of wallowing in self-pity, Aemond finally stood up, determined to clean himself up—both literally and figuratively.

The penthouse was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Empty bottles, crumpled clothes, and discarded takeout containers were strewn everywhere.

He started with the mess. Collecting the bottles, he threw them into the recycling bin, tidied up the living room, and straightened the cushions on the sofa.

With each action, he felt a sliver of control returning, a faint hope that he could fix not just the penthouse but his life, too. When the living space was back in order, he made his way to the bathroom.

A long shower followed, steam filling the room as he stood beneath the hot water. Afterward, he shaved, carefully watching his own reflection in the mirror.

His face, now clean-shaven, still bore the marks of sleepless nights and too much drinking, but it was a start. He dressed in a crisp suit, as if putting on armour, preparing for the day ahead.

The next morning, Aemond arrived at the office, trying to compose himself. He sat in his chair, hands on the desk, staring blankly at the papers in front of him when the door opened.

Rhaenyra walked in, her presence commanding the room immediately. She shut the door behind her and gave him a stern look, arms crossed.

"Where have you been, Aemond?" she asked, her tone sharp. "You’ve missed the last few days without a word."

Aemond sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Y.N. left me," he admitted, his voice quiet but heavy with pain. "She took Jack and I didn’t take it well."

Rhaenyra’s expression softened slightly. "Does this have anything to do with Alys?" she asked, and Aemond’s head snapped up in surprise.

"How do you know about that?"

"I overheard Larys arguing with her. I’m sure you’re not surprised, considering how intertwined our businesses can be."

Aemond frowned, leaning forward. "What was said?"

Rhaenyra sat down across from him. "Larys wasn’t too happy with her vendetta against you. Apparently, he warned her off a while ago. When she wouldn’t back off, he cut ties with her."

Aemond’s expression darkened. "She told me she parted ways with Larys to pursue her own career."

Rhaenyra scoffed. "Not exactly. She was trying to go it alone because Larys ended their partnership. He didn’t want her personal issues interfering with his deals, especially with Targaryen Inc."

Aemond felt a deep pang of humiliation. "I feel like a fool. I even recommended clients to her."

Rhaenyra gave him a pointed look. "It’s a shame then that the clients you recommended had contracts signed with Targaryen Inc, not with Alys’s company."

Aemond blinked. "How?"

"It was a mix-up with one of the assistants. They handed over the wrong contracts for the clients to sign. A total misunderstanding, of course. The assistant has been reprimanded, but the contracts remain valid."

Aemond shook his head. "So, I’ve been recommending clients to her, but they’re still contracted with us."

"Exactly. But you need to cut ties with Alys—completely. She’s not going to be happy when she realizes those clients aren’t really hers."

Aemond nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m done with her. I should’ve been done with her the moment she reached out. I was trying to right a wrong, but all I did was make things worse."

Rhaenyra regarded him thoughtfully. "Don’t be too hard on yourself, Aemond. Any man who tries to fix his mistakes isn’t a total fool."

Aemond scoffed. "Well, I sure feel like one. It’s cost me Y.N. and Jack."

Rhaenyra smiled faintly. "Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Y.N. is entitled to feel angry and hurt, but it’s because she loves you. I could tell by the way she talked about you."

Aemond furrowed his brow, hope flickering in his chest. "Wait-how do you know?"

Rhaenyra slid a piece of card across the desk toward him. Aemond picked it up, staring at the address written on it.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"It’s where Y.N. and Jack are staying."

Aemond’s heart pounded. "I didn’t know where she was," he said quietly, almost in disbelief.

"That’s why Y.N. came to me," Rhaenyra explained. "She needed some time away to think things through. She just needed space."

Aemond met Rhaenyra’s eyes, his voice softer now. "Why are you helping me? We haven’t always been close."

Rhaenyra’s smile was gentle, almost wistful. "No, we haven’t. But we’re family, Aemond. And perhaps if things had gone differently in the past, we would’ve been closer. Nothing can make up for the loss of your eye, but maybe this is a start."

Aemond watched her rise from her chair, and as she reached the door, he called out, curiosity tugging at him.

“The assistant that mixed up the contracts-who was it?"

Rhaenyra smiled as she turned back to him, amusement in her eyes. "It was Jacaerys." With that, she left the office, leaving Aemond to stare after her, the card still clutched in his hand.

He looked down at the address, hope swelling in his chest once again. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to fix everything.

Aemond stepped into the elevator, the metallic doors sliding shut behind him with a soft ping. He glanced up and froze when he saw Jacaerys standing at the far end of the lift.

For a few long seconds, silence stretched between them, thick and awkward.

Aemond cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Rhaenyra told me what happened with the contracts for Alys."

Jace shifted slightly, crossing his arms. "Yeah, unfortunate mistake," he said casually, though the underlying meaning wasn’t lost on either of them. "Guess I wasn’t paying enough attention."

Aemond's gaze sharpened, and he turned to face Jace fully. "Why did you do it?"

Jacaerys sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor before he met Aemond’s one-eyed stare. "My mother wasn’t the only one to overhear Larys and Alys arguing, I heard what she said about wanting to get back at you-”

Aemond was taken aback. He hadn't expected Jace to get involved in this, not after everything between them. "But-you hate me," Aemond said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

Jace shook his head. "I don’t hate you, Aemond. I just really dislike you." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Aemond huffed a quiet, surprised laugh. "There’s a slight difference."

Aemond looked down, almost disbelieving at this turn of events. He hadn’t expected Jacaerys of all people to interfere in a way that helped him. "Thank you."

Jace shrugged, his tone dismissive. "I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Y.N." He paused, his voice softening slightly. "I thought that she was the love of my life. But I’m not hers. You are"

The elevator doors pinged open at the ground floor, revealing the lobby ahead.

Aemond stood there, stunned, processing Jace’s words. He blinked, still finding it hard to believe.

"Even after everything that’s happened?" Aemond asked, his voice low.

Jace gave a small, encouraging nod. "Yes. Even after everything." He met Aemond’s eye seriously before jerking his head toward the exit. "Now stop wasting time talking to me and go get your girl."

Aemond nodded, gratitude bubbling up inside him as he stepped out of the lift. "Thanks again."

Jace smirked and called out after him, "Let’s not make a habit out of this."

As the elevator doors slid shut behind him, Aemond felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest.

The world seemed a little brighter, and for the first time in days, the path ahead didn’t feel so uncertain.

Jace's words echoed in his mind, propelling him forward. It was time to fix what he had broken, he just needed to figure out how.

Aemond stood in front of the modest block of flats, feeling a lump form in his throat as he stared up at the building. This was the address Rhaenyra had given him.

He clutched a bouquet of pink roses tightly in his hand, trying to steel his nerves.

Before he could gather his thoughts, the blare of his car horn startled him. He whipped around to see Aegon leaning out the window, impatient.

"Come the fuck on, Aemond! Get up there, I’m bored of waiting," Aegon called out.

Aemond snapped, "It’s been five minutes!"

"More like five years with how slow you’re moving. Just get up there, and text me if she agrees or not." Aegon flicked through the car’s radio as if this was just another one of his casual outings.

With a huff, Aemond turned back to the building and walked through the entrance, leaving Aegon to amuse himself.

Inside, the place was quiet, starkly different from his sleek penthouse or even Y.N.’s old apartment. This was simpler, more modest.

He called for the lift, his heart pounding as it carried him to the fifth floor. He stepped out, taking slow strides down the hallway until he reached apartment 143.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N. standing there, looking as beautiful and calm as ever despite the tension between them.

Aemond cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

Y.N. stepped aside, silently motioning for him to enter. As he walked in, he handed her the bouquet. "These are for you."

She accepted them with a small smile. "Thank you." As she moved to put the roses in a jug of water, Aemond glanced around the apartment.

It was bare, minimal, but it felt warm and lived in. His gaze fell on Jack, nestled in a small pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, wide awake and squirming.

Aemond’s voice softened. "May I?"

Y.N. nodded. "He just woke up."

Aemond knelt beside his son, feeling a surge of emotion as Jack recognized him, flashing a gummy smile.

His little legs kicked in excitement, and Aemond’s heart melted.

He scooped him up, holding him close and inhaling his baby scent. "Daddy’s missed you so much, little one."

Y.N., meanwhile, busied herself with arranging the roses in a jug. "I don’t have a vase," she explained almost apologetically. "I don’t have much of anything here, really. Just the basics."

Aemond glanced at her. "Are you okay for money? For things for Jack?"

"I’m fine," she assured him, though her voice was soft, almost distant. "I figured you came here to talk."

"I did." Aemond nodded, still cradling Jack in his arms as he paced around the apartment. "What made you turn to Rhaenyra for help?"

"I went to Helaena first," Y.N. said, not meeting his gaze. "But it was her who contacted Rhaenyra. We both knew you’d come around eventually, and I didn’t want to bring trouble to Helaena’s door."

Aemond frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "I would never hurt Helaena."

Y.N. finally looked up at him. "Just like you wouldn’t hurt Aegon? He told me you punched him in the face."

Aemond grimaced. "I thought Aegon didn’t know where you were."

"He didn’t." Y.N. raised an eyebrow. "There is such a thing as text messages, you know."

Aemond sighed, bouncing Jack gently in his arms as he moved around the apartment, trying to find the right words. "Did Rhaenyra tell you about Alys?"

"The mistake with the contracts or her vendetta against you?" Y.N. asked, her voice steady but edged with hurt.

Aemond let out a humourless laugh. "Both."

"Yes, she told me," Y.N. said, her tone shifting to something softer.

Aemond nodded, guilt gnawing at him. "I feel like a fool," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I just-I thought I was making amends for what happened, trying to right my wrongs. But I see now how wrong I was."

"I know," Y.N. said quietly, watching him as he held their son. There was no malice in her voice, only weariness.

"As angry as I am at you, I’m angry at myself too," she added after a beat. Aemond looked up, surprised.

"Why?" he asked.

"For letting Alys drive a wedge between us," Y.N. explained, her voice trembling slightly. "What you did was stupid, yes. You should have just apologized and sent her on her way. But you didn’t. And it allowed her to come between us."

Aemond’s heart clenched. "I’m sorry. I should’ve seen through her manipulation. I never meant to hurt you."

Y.N. sighed, her eyes meeting his, filled with conflicted emotions. "I know," she whispered.

The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft gurgles of Jack in Aemond's arms as they stood together, caught between love and uncertainty.

Aemond stood there, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. His gaze was locked on Y.N., his heart pounding with a desperate question.

“Is there any hope for us?” His voice was almost a whisper, thick with emotion.

Y.N. looked down, her fingers twisting together as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," she said softly, her voice tinged with the pain of their shared past.

“Please,” Aemond implored, stepping closer, his voice raw and vulnerable. “Just give me a chance to prove how much I love you.”

Y.N. sighed, meeting his eye. “And how are you going to do that, Aemond?”

Without hesitation, Aemond pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text. “I’m going to show you,” he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door. Aemond opened it, revealing Aegon, who immediately reached for Jack with a grin.

“Look at my little buddy!” Aegon cooed as he scooped Jack into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much” as Jack gurgled happily, clearly thrilled to see his uncle.

Aegon then handed Aemond a carrier bag.

Aemond turned to Y.N. and, with a gentle smile, held the bag out to her. “Go get changed.”

Y.N. blinked, a mix of curiosity and reluctance in her expression. She glanced between Aemond and Aegon before taking the bag and disappearing into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she re-emerged, wearing a stunning blue chiffon lace midi dress. The delicate fabric flowed around her, and the soft lace highlighted her elegance.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe. A faint blush spread across Y.N.'s cheeks as she looked away shyly.

Aegon, ever the distraction, chimed in with a playful grin. “Well, I’m here to babysit Jack, so you two better get going and have a great time.” He paused, glancing around the apartment. “Now, where are the takeout menus?”

Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t actually have any, but you could always google some.”

Aegon stared at her in mock disbelief. “What kind of person doesn’t have takeout menus? Honestly.”

Aemond smirked. “One who doesn’t live off takeaways, like you.”

Aegon scoffed, shaking his head. “Pot, kettle, brother. That’s all you’ve been eating lately.”

Aemond winced slightly, catching Y.N.’s curious glance. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly admitting, “I didn’t feel like cooking.”

Aegon let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Didn’t feel like showering either. Honestly, he was rank”

Y.N. chuckled softly, shaking her head at the brothers’ banter. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft and maternal. “Food for Jack is in the fridge, and you just need to-”

“—heat it up,” Aegon interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Aemond leaned over to bid Jack farewell, pressing a gentle kiss to his son’s head. Then, he turned to Y.N., extending his hand to her. “Shall we?”

Y.N. hesitated for a split second before placing her hand in his.

The moment their fingers intertwined, Aemond felt his heart skip a beat. It was a simple touch, but it was enough to fill him with hope.

As they walked out the door, Aegon called after them, already settling into the sofa with Jack in his arms. “You better text me if this goes well! I’ve got a bet going with Daeron”

Aemond ignored him, focused entirely on Y.N., as they stepped into the hallway. His heart raced with anticipation.

Whatever happened tonight, he was determined to show her just how much she meant to him.

Aemond led Y.N. through the grand gardens of Targaryen Manor, the evening air cool and soft against their skin.

Y.N. glanced around, admiring the place, but a flicker of curiosity crossed her face as she asked, "Why have you brought me here?"

Aemond smiled gently, his grip tightening on her hand as they continued walking. “You’ll see,” he murmured.

"Is Otto going to be here?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Aemond shook his head. “No. He’s away visiting Gwayne, and my mother’s having dinner with Helaena tonight.”

“So, it’s just us?” Y.N. asked softly.

“Just us,” he confirmed, but instead of leading her into the manor, he took a turn and guided her toward the sprawling gardens.

Y.N.’s breath hitched as they stepped into a secluded area. Laid out before her was an elegantly prepared picnic, illuminated by soft lanterns hanging from the trees, casting a warm glow over the scene.

A blanket was spread neatly on the grass, adorned with a variety of delicacies, surrounded by delicate flowers in bloom.

“Aemond,” Y.N. gasped, taking in the sight, a smile tugging at her lips. “You did this?”

“I had a little help,” Aemond admitted, his eye glinting with affection.

“Helaena?” Y.N. guessed, knowing his sister's touch was all over this. Aemond nodded, smiling.

As they stood there for a moment, Aemond moved behind her, gently turning her to face the manor.

He rested his hands lightly on her waist, his lips close to her ear. “Second floor,” he whispered, pointing toward the house. “Third from the left.”

Y.N. squinted, trying to figure out the significance. “It’s-a window?” she asked, confused.

Aemond chuckled softly. “Yes. That’s where I was standing the first time I saw you.”

Y.N. gasped, her head snapping toward him. “Really?”

He nodded, his voice low and reminiscent. “I was lying on my bed, and I heard you laughing. So, I got up, went to the window, and watched you. You were with Helaena, completely mesmerized when that butterfly landed on your hand. She wanted to keep it, but you-” he paused, a small smile playing on his lips, “-you let it fly free.”

Y.N. smiled at the memory. She had always loved butterflies, and the way Helaena cherished each one.

Aemond then led her toward a nearby hedge, stopping once they reached it. “And it was here,” he said, tracing his hand over the leaves, “-that you first saw my scar.”

“The wind blew your hood off,” Y.N. remembered, her voice gentle.

Aemond’s eye locked on hers, his voice soft. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

Y.N. nodded, her throat tightening as she whispered, “I told you not to hide. That your scar showed that you were brave.”

Aemond swallowed hard, the emotion in his chest swelling as he guided her back to the picnic blanket.

They both sat down, and after a moment of silence, Aemond opened the basket and pulled out an old, worn notebook.

“This-” he said, handing it to her, “-is where I wrote down all the things I wanted to say but couldn’t.”

Y.N. hesitated before gently taking the notebook from him. As she opened it, the sight of Aemond’s messy scrawl made her heart flutter.

She began reading through the childhood musings, and each entry hit her like a wave of nostalgia.

The early entries were sweet, filled with the innocent thoughts of a boy. Aemond had written about how pretty he thought she was, how special it made him feel when she called him brave.

Then she read about how much he liked her but was too afraid to tell her, fearing rejection.

As she turned the pages, she came across entries about their childhood, how she would read to him during sleepovers to help with his headaches.

Each word tugged at her heartstrings.

Then, the tone changed as they got older. Aemond’s words became more conflicted, expressing frustration.

He wrote about how he picked on her, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to get close to her.

There was a passage about how much he hated when she smiled at Aegon or laughed at his jokes.

And then there was the entry about the night Aegon kissed her during a game of spin the bottle.

Y.N. paused, looking up at Aemond. “I totally forgot about that,” she said, her tone light and a little embarrassed.

Aemond smiled slightly, encouraging her to continue. “Keep reading.”

The later entries were more sporadic, reflecting their time apart as they grew older. Aemond lamented about feeling like a coward for not telling her how he truly felt.

He wrote about the attention he received from other girls, but how none of it mattered because none of them were her. And then came the entry that talked about her leaving for art college.

His pain was palpable as he wrote about not knowing when—or if—he would ever see her again.

Finally, she reached the last entry. It was short, simple, and yet devastatingly sincere: No matter what happens, my heart will always belong to her.

Y.N. closed the notebook, her hands trembling slightly as she handed it back to him. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly began to fall, the weight of his feelings over the years crashing over her.

Aemond took the notebook from her but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The rawness of the moment, the vulnerability he had just laid bare before her, spoke volumes.

After enjoying the spread of food laid out for their picnic, Aemond and Y.N. packed up, the soft glow of lanterns fading behind them as they walked hand-in-hand back to the car.

The air between them was filled with a sense of calm and a quiet closeness that neither wanted to break.

As they got in the car, Y.N. smiled. "Where are we off to now?" she asked playfully, watching him from the passenger seat.

Aemond gave her a knowing smile but said nothing, only shaking his head as he started the engine. The hum of the car and the soft tunes from the radio filled the silence as they drove off into the night.

It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a familiar building—The Dragon’s Den, the very place where their story had taken a significant turn all those months ago.

Y.N. furrowed her brows, glancing at Aemond. “I think it’s closed,” she said, a slight chuckle in her voice.

Aemond smirked and pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them with a grin. “Not for us,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to step inside. The space was eerily quiet, devoid of the usual bustling crowd and vibrant atmosphere that she remembered from that fateful night.

After locking the door behind them, Aemond led her towards the dance floor.

“How did you get the keys?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Aemond gave her a sly look. “I know the owner,” he said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He left her standing in the middle of the dance floor for a moment as he made his way toward the sound system. Y.N. watched him, her heart beating a little faster with each passing second.

Then, the melody of the song they had danced to on that unforgettable night filled the club, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

Y.N. giggled softly as Aemond returned, removing his jacket and tossing it to the side. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

She slipped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his as they began to sway to the music, just like they had that first night.

As they moved together, Aemond's eye never left hers.

“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the music. “About how much our lives have changed since?”

Y.N. nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “All the time,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t come out that night. Helaena had to convince me.”

Aemond’s hand tightened slightly around her waist, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m glad she did,” he murmured, pulling her just a little closer.

They continued to dance, their bodies swaying in time with the rhythm, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Aemond’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently brushing across her cheek as he leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, the raw emotion behind his words evident in his voice.

Y.N. smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you too,” she whispered back before closing the small distance between them, their lips meeting in a passionate, lingering kiss.

As the music played on, they melted into each other, their bodies still moving in sync with the slow, sweet melody. Everything else seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet, intimate moment.

Aemond took a small step back from Y.N., his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathered his thoughts. His eye, filled with raw emotion, searched hers, and he exhaled deeply.

"I know that I’m a complete idiot," he began, his voice thick with regret. "And I’m so sorry for what happened. Please believe me when I say I will never hurt you again."

Y.N. looked at him, her heart pounding, as she listened closely. Aemond continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion, "You and Jack mean everything to me. I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you both know that—every single day."

Without breaking eye contact, Aemond gently took her hand in his. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box.

The movement was careful, nervous, but determined. Y.N.’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.

Aemond, never taking his eye off her, slowly descended onto one knee, his heart racing in sync with hers.

"Y.N.," he said softly, opening the box to reveal a beautiful, glimmering ring nestled inside. "Will you marry me?"

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the soft music still playing in the background.

Then, Y.N.'s lips parted into a radiant smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."

A wide, joyous grin broke out across Aemond’s face. With trembling hands, he slid the ring onto her finger, and once it was in place, he stood up, pulling her into his arms.

In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in circles as they both laughed, the sound of their joy echoing through the empty club.

When he finally lowered her back to the ground, they were both breathless, their laughter fading into quiet, intimate smiles. Aemond cupped her face, brushing his lips gently against hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Mrs. Targaryen" he whispered softly against her lips, his forehead resting against hers.

Y.N. giggled, her heart bursting with happiness, and she kissed him again, her fingers gently running through his hair.

In that moment, with Aemond’s arms wrapped tightly around her and their love stronger than ever, they had found their way back to each other.

And this time, it was forever.

Aemond and Y.N. arrived back at his penthouse, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement after their evening together.

As they stepped inside, Aemond closed the door behind them, and his eye flicked to Y.N., a smile playing on his lips.

“Well,” Aemond began with a teasing tone, glancing around the familiar surroundings, “since you no longer live at your old apartment, we can’t replicate that night exactly. But this will do.”

His smile grew wider as he shrugged off his coat and moved to the drinks cabinet.

Y.N. chuckled, slipping off her heels as she watched him. Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint, the night’s events still coursing through her, making her feel bold.

She leaned against the wall; arms crossed loosely as Aemond rummaged through the cabinet.

He turned around, bottle in hand, raising a brow. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, though his grin hinted that he already knew what her answer might be.

Y.N. smirked and echoed the words that he’d said to her that fateful night, her voice soft but filled with playful intent.

“We both know I didn’t come here for a drink.”

Aemond’s eye darkened with the same intensity she remembered from that night. He set the bottle down without hesitation, crossing the room to her in long, purposeful strides.

His hands reached for her, fingers gently gripping her waist as he pulled her against him.

“Is that so?” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, his face mere inches from hers.

Wasting no time, Aemond pressed his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Y.N. melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as their kiss deepened, fiery and intense.

In that instant, everything else faded away. The penthouse, the memories, the past—they all vanished, leaving only the present moment.

Aemond kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Then Y.N slipped her fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.

She stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek.

The sapphire glinting in the low light.

“You are still so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.

Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.

“Please-“ moaned Y.N

"I’ve waited too long for this, Y.N."

She smiled up at him, her heart racing. "Then don’t make me wait any longer."

Aemond growled as he took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom, he all but kicked the door open.

He turned to face her, and he put his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.

Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippling under her fingertips.

She finished unbuttoning the shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.

Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he still wore.

Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.

Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.

His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet penthouse, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, which excited him.

Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest.

Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened r nipples.

Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth.

Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.

He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her.

Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.

Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.

Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.

Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.

Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them to the floor.

Aemond reached forward and pulled her onto the bed.

He manoeuvred her onto her back and covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.

“Still such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my darling. Let me hear you”. 

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Y.N arched  her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.

Aemond moved his fingers slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.

Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.

“I want you to ride me-wife” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Y.N moaned as she rolled her hips against Aemonds, his cock moving in and out of her.

Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N

"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.

Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.

His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.

“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.

“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.

“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.

“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around his bedroom.

“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.

“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.

Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.

With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed inside her.

He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.

She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.

Afterward, Y.N. and Aemond lay together, their bodies tangled in the soft sheets, a warm silence settling over them.

Aemond's hand traced lazy patterns on her skin as he leaned back, his silvery hair spilling over the pillow. He turned his head toward her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re still taking the pill, right?” he asked casually, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Y.N. giggled softly, her fingers brushing over his chest. “Yes, I am.” She noticed the subtle sigh of relief that left his lips, and her grin grew wider.

“As much as I want more children with you,” Aemond murmured, his voice deep and warm, “I’d like us to be married before the next one.” He smiled, his hand resting on her stomach as if imagining the future.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You want more children?”

Aemond nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Yes. You’re a fantastic mother, Y.N. I can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my child again-just not yet.”

Y.N. chuckled, shaking her head gently. “I think I can agree with that.”

Aemond leaned over, reaching for his trousers where they were discarded on the floor.

He fished out his phone, quickly dialling a number. Y.N. listened in curiosity as the phone rang, and moments later, Aegon’s voice was loud enough for her to hear.

“Bring Jack to the penthouse-” said Aemond.

“So, did you ask her?” Aegon asked eagerly.

Aemond grinned. “I did. And she said yes.”

There was a loud cheer on the other end of the line, followed by Aegon’s voice exclaiming, “Ha! Daeron owes me money! Tight git best pay up.”

Aemond chuckled as he ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement.

“Do I even want to know what that was about?”

“Just my brothers being idiots,” Aemond replied with a grin, though his eye twinkled with amusement.

Y.N. laughed softly, teasing him. “Must be in the genes.”

Aemond feigned offense, rolling on top of her with a playful growl.

“Careful now.” He kissed her deeply, his lips warm against hers, his hand sliding up her side. He pulled back slightly, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I wonder if we can manage another round before Aegon gets here with Jack”

Y.N. laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m fairly certain I can manage it, but the question is-can you?”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against hers as he replied. “I’ll show you exactly what I can manage.”

TBC