#and violence makes me very sad and very exhausted

[siolixz]

ღ Of Love and Loyaltyღ

One-Shot

+18

<Part 1> <Part 3: final>

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have developed a relationship of sorts and now she changed based on her circumstances and everything she has around her. Reader is a young girl infatuated with a man decades older than her- who is also very dangerous and powerful (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌 Oz's mom is actually dead in this story. I will write a third and final part to this after the last episode. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting 100%.

Enjoy, give some feedback if you want. (>‿◠)✌

Warnings: violence, age-gap relationship, smut(¬‿¬)

You finally made something of yourself. Sure it was all blood money, but you did- you did what you had to do to survive and not only that, to thrive. 

Before leaving he told you to get in the car while he talked to Sofia outside, when you got back he was on his knees- a gun pointed at his face. You acted on impulse and drove the car into one of the guys there; best thing you could’ve done at the moment he told you.

 You would think that planning to escape would distance you from him but it did the opposite- even after wrecking his car, that poor gorgeous car; you’ve never been in one as fancy before- let alone drive it.  

“I’m so-sorry about your car.” you said as you stared at it in flames. 

“Yeah- what're ya gonna do 'bout it- only the good die young.” he came closer to you and grabbed the back of your head- forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be sad about it- you’re worth a thousand more to me.” 

He told you that you two were “really in it now”- and he couldn’t have been more right about that.

He got the Bliss operation back from the Maroni family by burning the mother and the heir apparent to their family- together. His brutality frightened you but If he wanted to rule the mob- he had to be brutal and unwavering in his choices, at least that’s what you told yourself to justify what he had done. Now not only Sofia Gigante was after you, but also Sal Maroni.

In the weeks following you had your own operation- underground, in a sewer system that connected you to all of Gotham, you became Oz’s eyes and ears above ground, traveling on your motorcycle- giving him news about the world above and delivering his money directly in his hands. He had given you your own gun—"just in case someone messes with you"—though you never ended up using it.

 Oz trusted you, even after your attempt at an escape- he moved you two to an apartment on the East Side, one that reminded you of your old one; without electricity but it did its job. In the apartment you got very close to him, you got to know him much better and you changed too in the meantime, you were more confident- more sure of yourself next to him. 

He was all you had, the one person who made you feel like you were the center of his world. One night- he came "home" late, as he often did. You were already in bed, curled up and trying to stay warm when you felt the familiar weight of his body sinking into the mattress. He slid under the covers and pulled you close, and you sighed, finally feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

"The people in charge really don’t give a fuck about us," you murmured, exhaustion lacing your voice. It was a tired frustration—being cold at work and now being cold at home. Winter was coming, and your mind drifted to families with children who needed warmth.

He took a deep breath. The long days weighed heavily on him; managing his people and the constant stress left him drained. Most nights, he would grab a bite, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, cold or not, he’d fall into a deep sleep. You’d take advantage of those moments, cuddling close and pulling his heavy arm over you. Oswald slept like a rock.

"I’ll do something about it," he said, his deep voice vibrating through you. In the weeks you’d been together, you’d learned how to speak to him, how to make him feel powerful—your man, your only one. He was the only man who had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t deny the rush you felt watching him command respect when he barked out orders to his men, a cigar perched between his lips. God, he was handsome. Your stomach would flutter every time you caught a glimpse of him, even if only for a second.

He was a towering presence, terrifying when he loomed over you, and seeing him angry was enough to scare you senseless. But it also sets your heart racing for other reasons too.

Before the club, his gaze never strayed from you; now, it was his hands that constantly sought you. He couldn't help himself when you were close, sometimes grabbing you in public like an eager kid in a candy shop. You learned that when he called you into his "office," it meant he was either seething with anger or burning with desire—either way, you knew he’d end up taking it out on you. 

He’d told you more than once that he hadn’t felt this alive in years, and you could sense the shift in everything he did—from the way he spoke to the intensity in the way he fucked you. He had changed.

You told him about Squid- about how he came up to you today- asking you where you got your clothes- “what shit you got cooking” - Oz asked you if it was going to be a problem, you told him no; he could count on you- you won’t let him down.

“You know, I think you’re the only thing keeping me good, doll.” he traced circles on your arm. If you were keeping him good, what was Oz like when bad? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt his hands traveling under the blanket and beneath the sweater and t-shirt you had on and you proceeded to hiss once they made contact with your skin “your hands are so cold” you said and he chuckled.

The next day, you made true to your promise and met up with Squid- you had a plan, of course you did, you would give him some money and hope he would leave you alone.

Of course the dumb bastard declined the money- of course he tried to intimidate you to “bring him to the big man” or else he was gonna go to the Maronis or Falcones- maybe they would help him; the fuck was he thinking?  That a small-time asshole like him could make a deal with Oz? 

So many thoughts were running through your head, what if you did bring him to Oz? You didn’t want to bother him, he had enough stuff he had to worry about- plus the things Oz would do to him were too graphic to think about. What if you ran? No, he would catch you- probably beat the shit out of you too. Shit.

“Ok, I’ll take you to him.” you said as you were going down the steps, him following. Fuck-fuck you had to shoot him, this motherfucker was going to ruin whatever you had going on.

You had to shoot him, no other time better than now- your pistol was in the front of your jeans. Do it now.  You grabbed your gun from your pants and before you knew it, you turned around and pulled the trigger. 

When you opened your eyes, Squid was gripping his throat- blood was coming out in buckets- he stared at you and your shocked face. Neither of you believing what you just did. Your breathing was becoming heavier and heavier- almost gasping for breath- you just shot someone- he was going to die. 

Oh god, he was dying. You watched as the light drained from his eyes and you didn’t want to stick around to see him pass so you ran- you ran to your motorcycle and then you drove above the speed limit, probably breaking a few laws too until you got underground.

 He was probably dead by now- you just killed him. You never realized that you were crying as well; you ran to his office and thanked the lord that no one was around to see you. 

You opened the door and there he was, wearing a well tailored shirt and a vest- writing something down- money next to him. He quickly looked up as he heard you come in and then dropped his head down to continue what he was writting “Well look who decided to pay me a visit”,  he muttered with a smirk; you tried to control your sobs and when he heard the shallow breath you took to steady yourself- he looked up again “The fuck happened?” he immediately got up and went towards you.

You told him what happened between sobs as he held you on his lap, seated in his chair.  You told him everything; about Squid- how he threatened to go to the Falcones or the Maronis- how you knew you had no choice and while leaning back he told you that it will get easier, this isn’t the end of the world.

“You wanna know something?” He grabbed your face and made you look at him “You did what was right, you protected yourself, what you have. No one can take that from you- I’m proud of you.” Your sad demeanor was gone by now and replaced with the familiar warmth you had whenever he said something like this.

 He kissed you and brought your body and embraced you “You’ve grown so much in these weeks, you’re no longer the kid that used to sneak around buildings-” you kissed him, bringing his lower lip between your lips. You wanted to forget- forget what happened and what you did- he always made you forget all your worries, you only ever thought about him when you were in his presence. He put his arm beneath both of your legs as you were sitting and you almost yelped when he got you on his desk.

“Oz-” Ok, maybe getting him started wasn’t the best idea, whenever you got him going he would forget about the windows in his office or the fact that someone might hear you.

You tried to bring one of your legs between the two of you, trying to stop him “-Oz, when we are home” you tried to reason with the man, even if getting fucked in his office would turn you on in the worst ways and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t getting wet already.

 He loved the power he would hold over you- whenever he would manhandle you in any position he would like or whenever he would order you to do something- you couldn’t lie, you liked it too; sometimes he would have you suck his cock as he solved the men's pay, sometimes he would have you on all fours on his bed- Oz was a man that loved to be in control, to be number one- the best. You knew that. 

He was already getting your jacket off, “Oz-” he grabbed the money from the table and placed it away from you two, before getting back to kissing and groping you.

He grabbed hold of your clothed pussy and from the feeling of his hand there- you raised your butt slightly up and pushed back into him.

 This relationship that you two had, it made you feel like a woman- it was so different than the one you had with Robert, where it was just light touches on your face and small kisses- Oswald was a man, whenever he wanted you, he would have you and it made you feel as if you were wanted and desired- it made you feel alive.

He stopped and you knew someone was probably at the door. Shit- this is so embarrassing, you looked down and without making eye contact, went into the small room connecting to his office- he had a bed there, a small one; not big enough for two people to sleep comfortably but it was something. It was also way more warm in here than outside where everyone else was working. 

You took your sweater off and sat on the bed, while listening to what he was saying to the guy that came in, something about the meeting he had and a surprise. You had to ask him about that, but after he was done with you.

 Your heart was beating out of your ches- the door opened. 

He looked at you and made small steps towards the bed, you were smiling while scooting back- with butterflies dancing in your stomach; wondering what he was gonna do next when he grabbed both of your legs and placed them on either side of him before joining you on the bed- on top of you.

One of his hands immediately went to your ass, giving him easier access to rubbing himself over you and the other one was supporting him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as your lips met his. Despite the darkness and heaviness of the moment, he still radiated a magnetic presence—full of charisma as ever, his scent enveloping you in a way that made everything else fade. From the sharpness of his aftershave to the depth of his cologne, he had it all. He started pushing himself even harder against you, where it was almost painful; you moaned in his mouth and against his tongue. 

He raised himself on his knees on the bed, casting a shadow over you and ordered you to take your jeans off and get on all fours while he was taking his vest off and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your hands were shaking a little bit as you unbuttoned your pants and took them off.

After you obeyed him and raised your butt in the air, he grabbed hold of it- to angle you how he wanted; excitement so palpable you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, almost laughing. You felt him slowly enter you, giving you a few small moments to adjust to his size- you closed your eyes and moaned, you don’t think you’re ever gonna get enough of this man; all of him.

“Oh baby-” he was always so vocal during sex. 

The feeling of him stretching you out and the feeling of him pushing himself in you in and out- whenever he would press himself back in, he brushed up against your g-spot- the sound of his body when it connected to yours was so loud- it made your cheeks burn- you were so wet and he didn’t even touch you all that much, like that night at the club. He had a gun under your chin and you were so wet, who even were you anymore?

You arched your back, consciously making yourself as pleasing as possible for him. The act itself sent a thrill through you, but it also made your cheeks flush with a mix of desire and shy uncertainty- the usual girlhood embarrassment that flushed your cheeks overtaking your body whenever he had you like this. 

When he found his rhythm- while grabbing your waist and pushing you back into him, he’d shower you with praise. “You take me so well… you’re such a good girl—my good girl.” He knew exactly how to make your stomach flip with words like that—this old dog. 

He pulled you back against him time and time again before you felt like it was almost painful, your moans of pleasure mixing with those of pain.

He pulled himself out and got on his back next to you, ”Come ‘ere” you giggled in excitement- he loved whenever you rode him.

You squatted over him- your legs on either side of his body and with one of your hands- you brought his cock between your legs and you watched closely as his stupid grin was wiped from his face when you lowered down on him, mouth open- you gave him a quick peck on his lips. Your legs were almost shaking and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. 

From this position you could feel him so deep inside- you started to grind yourself on him- it felt so good; you almost started crying again. 

Oz grabbed your tits from underneath your shirt and was slowly pushing himself deeper in you “You’re my girl- I’m so proud-” he groaned as he said that, this mountain of a man- beneath you, between your thighs; you felt like you held the power “-I’m so proud of you.” 

From this position you could feel him brushing against your clit, the feeling only making you go faster, the thrill of reaching your peak on him taking over “easy…easy” he repeated- obviously, you didn't listen. 

You shifted the tempo, lifting yourself up before sliding back down, causing him to grimace. Without missing a beat, he pulled your upper body down, pressing you flush against him- you pressed your face against his shoulder and he grabbed it- holding it there; the cold feeling of his rings compared to how hot your face was giving you goosebumps.

You felt him adjust his legs and from this position he started to fuck you how he wanted to. He thrived on being in charge, practically reveled in the power it gave him. God, your throat was dry- you were sure you would be sore down there after you two were done.

 You knew anyone walking by could 100% hear you at this point, you tried to be quiet but to no avail with this man. Oz seemed to like whenever people would stare at the two of you and it excited him to think anyone would be listening in.

You brought your face up when he slowed down and kissed him, putting your tongue in his mouth. This felt so amazing but you knew he probably had places he had to be. “Do I make you feel good baby?” you nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the right side of his face, right on the thick scar that ran from his mouth to his cheekbone.

He was a strikingly intimidating man, his features hardened by a life of danger. You slowly brought yourself down and up- trying to match his movements. 

“You get so tight around me-” he placed his arm over you, bringing you as tight as he could on him. 

One of your hands went under the pillow he had under his head and the other was gripping the side of the bed. His rhythm was becoming sloopy- switching between fucking you and kissing you, on your cheeks or on your mouth; he grabbed your ass in both of his hands, squeezing and pushing you down on him while he fucked you. 

You looked in his eyes, the light from above casting a shadow over them that only added to his allure.  “-I’m gonna cum” you nodded again- words escaping you “Tell me where-tell me” he closed his eyes- you knew he would start with that, the only way he finished was inside you. 

Whether it was your mouth or your pussy. Oz loved when you would describe how he felt in you, how you loved when he would fuck you- how you wanted him to cum in you. It turned him on. It turned him on how embarrassed you would feel most of the time he made you say those things.

You told him you wanted it inside and It wasn’t long before he started his fast pace again and you closed your eyes, trying not to moan as loud as you would like- fuck he felt so good. It mustn't have been long before you felt him slow down and the familiar feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you. You had to drink some water- your throat was hurting. Oz hugged you close to him and while one of his hands was rubbing your back he kissed your forehead- “You feeling better?”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Bro you just fucked him AGAIN?

Finished there the story because I KNEW i would start writing a lot and I wanna finish part 2 in time for the finale. I'm sososos excited for it and sad it will end ugh. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thank you to all the people that wrote nice things to me regarding my writing, I've been having some health problems lately and your messages made me feel so much better, truly. Have a nice day :))))))

[chainofclovers]

Being a human is literally like this weird combo of being okay and not okay that goes on forever except there is also death

[agustdtown1]

SHUT UP ‘N LISTEN | JJK

PAIRING: street racer!brother’s bestfriend!jeon jungkook x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Trust was broken, and wrong decisions were made. You were now left alone facing the consequences of your own actions, realizing it was never a good idea to fuck around with your brother’s friend. But maybe that was another lesson you were meant to learn.

WC: 17.3k

WARNINGS: brother’s best friend trope, angst, like a loooooot, unnecessarily dramatic dialogues that I think were a bit too much but that worked out for the plot at the end. Fluff because I didn’t want to end it on a sad note again. Way too much feelings and emotions. Smut +18, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), a lot of begging, slight dom!jk, choking, making out, smacking, praising, pet names (doll, good girl, princess, baby, sweetheart, etc.), jk calls reader his good little slut, big dick!jk, mentions of belly bulge (very brief), doggy, missionary, jk begging a little bit towards the end. Let me know if I’m missing anything.

A/N: it’s finally here, the part 2 of shut up and drive, it took me some time to finally get it done, but I’m happy with the results. Also it was initially intended to be max 5k but I got a bit carried away and ended up being this super lengthy one shot so I apologize in advance. Anyway, enjoy your reading!

part 1 | masterlist

Most people experience a variety of emotions throughout their lives; happiness, sadness, anger. You can find happiness in the simple things in life, like buying your favorite food, your favorite drink, or when you go out with your friends. Sadness usually comes along when something bad happens, like losing a loved one or missing an important moment. Anger is presented in the form of violence most of the time, but it can also be delivered through words; hurting just as much as any punch would. Nonetheless, there’s also another emotion that has a huge impact on people, one that can conquer your body in the most unexpected moments.

Fear.

Usually defined as an unpleasant feeling that installs itself in the deepest part of our hearts and souls; fear is that one emotion capable of paralyzing people when faced with dangerous situations. Regardless of it being an abstract concept, like any other feeling, anyone at any point in their life has experienced that same emotion.

It is fear that you feel when you notice a stranger following you at night; it is fear that you feel when encountered with a wild animal. It is fear that goes through your body when someone tells you they have bad news.

And it was that same emotion that you felt when your brother verbalized the one thing you were trying to avoid.

“How long have you been fucking my best friend behind my back?”

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach the moment that question flew out of Taehyung’s mouth. Nothing would have ever prepared you for it; for the inevitable confrontation you oh so much wanted to avoid.

But life can be funny sometimes, and it would put you through situations that would cause you an unbearable amount of anxiety and fear.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” His voice was the perfect example of exhaustion and disappointment; two emotions you didn’t want your brother to experience.

It took you exactly ninety-eight seconds to regain your ability to speak, only to scramble to find a poor excuse that would get you out of the mess you got yourself into.

“I don’t… um, I don’t really know what—”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Taehyung cut you off. “Is that what you were going to say?”

The words were caught in your throat, making it impossible to give him the answer he was expecting. But then again, would you be able to respond wisely if given the chance to speak properly?

“I’m sorry.”

The answer to that question would be no; you were not capable of forming a valid argument that would make your brother dislike you any less in that precise moment.

“You know, I thought you would finally be honest.” Your brother sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, “I guess I was wrong.”

No man will ever be worthy of messing things up with Taehyung; a mental statement that you prayed would be proven right, but ultimately it seemed like you were the rightful culprit of a crime you didn’t realize you committed.

“Tae, listen…” You began saying, but your brother was not ready to hear whatever you had to say.

“You wanna know what’s funny?” He asked rhetorically. “I’m not even mad that you guys are together or whatever.” Taehyung chuckled, humorlessly. “But you lied to me, and that’s not something I can take lightly.”

You knew that, and yet you decided to go behind his back to mess around with one of his closest friends. In hindsight, the outcome of your web of lies was fully deserved, however, it was hard to accept the possibility of the rupture of you and your brother’s bond.

Hoseok and Jimin, on the other hand, could only stand there and watch everything fall little by little. It saddened them, knowing that the messy situation the three of you were involved in would not be easy to deal with, and most likely would end up badly. Trust was broken, and wrong decisions were made. None of them pondered over enough to realize the weight of the actual problem. But alas, that’s the lesson you were meant to learn.

“Guess loverboy can drive you home tonight, right?” Taehyung’s bitter tone was like a knife digging in your soul. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” He turned towards the two other boys, before retrieving his car keys from his jeans’ pocket.

With nothing left to say, Taehyung started his way back to his car.

“Tae, wait! Don’t be like that.” None the wiser, you tried to reach out and stop him, but someone else got a hold on you before you could.

“Let him be, I think it’s better for everyone if he cools down before you talk to him.” Always the voice of reason, Hoseok intervened at the right time.

It was hard to watch Taehyung walk away, knowing that he would probably let his anger and frustration out the wrong way. It was true that your brother would usually need some time to calm down and come around, just like Hoseok said, however, you also knew that Taehyung could be a bit impulsive and reckless sometimes. His well-being has been put to the test an uncountable amount of times, and more often than not anger would cloud his vision and the only thing he would see is red, which would cause a much bigger problem than him just being upset.

Truth be told, there was not much to do. It was either making the situation a whole lot worse by pushing your brother to his breaking point, or waiting until his anger and frustration had subsided. The latter seemed to be a better option, and so it was decided that you would let it go for the time being.

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Y/n…” a familiar voice rang through your ears, making you snap out of your thoughts. “Can we—?”

“Take me home.” You interrupted Jungkook harshly.

Maybe it was the way he was acting so cautiously; or perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t even attempt to explain what was really happening to Taehyung, but the idea of being near Jeon Jungkook for a second longer irritated you beyond belief.

“What?” He seemed to be taken aback, “I mean, yes, I’ll take you home, but first I wanted—”

“I don’t wanna hear it, just take me home.”

The hurt look in his eyes almost made you apologize, but the moment of weakness was short-lived; the frustration and worry you were feeling at that moment were enough to blind you, preventing you from seeing how your cold attitude was affecting him.

“Hoseok…” You started saying, “You coming with us?”

The brown haired man shook his head, sporting a soft grin on his face to break a little bit of the tension surrounding you.

“Don’t worry about me, Jimin’s gonna give me a ride home.”

Looking to his right you found the blond guy nodding his head, confirming that he would take care of Hoseok.

“Alright then.”

You started your way towards Jeon’s car, not really waiting for him; the sooner you got out of there the better. That place was starting to become a horrific nightmare the more you stayed there anyway, and it wasn’t really worth it to wait a second longer.

Jungkook was right behind you, like a silent follower, not uttering a single word due to the fear of being ignored. And somehow he was right about protecting his heart from your cold demeanor, for it was your silence he would get if he had started a conversation in the most inconvenient of times.

But how can you blame him? Had you been in his shoes, conquered by fear of losing the person who makes you feel more alive, along with your best friend, at the same time, you would be scared of saying and doing the wrong thing too. The only difference is that Jungkook wanted to fix things up for the first time. He wanted to redeem himself and be the bigger person for once; changing his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and not ignoring his responsibilities. Because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was just as guilty as you were, and it was time for him to be held accountable for his own actions and decisions.

Nonetheless, there was still that emotion that would prevent him from initiating a conversation that was already set to happen. Fear was, for lack of better words, fucking him up, just like it did you moments ago.

You could feel his burning stare at every red light you were encountered with, yet you refused to look his way, not giving him the satisfaction of staring at his doe eyes that would lure you into giving him the chance to explain himself. That, however, didn’t prevent him from finally gathering the courage to speak.

“I still wanna talk to you about tonight.” Eight words uttered with fear; a sentence verbalized with the utmost caution, only to fall on deaf ears. “I know you’re not in the mood to have a conversation right now, and you’re most likely mad at me, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry it happened this way.” A sigh escaped his lips, leaving him with a heavy weight on his chest, not fully finding the right words to say. “Things went wrong, that much I know, but neither of us had a way of knowing all of this would go down tonight.”

A humorless chuckle abandoned your mouth, cutting Jungkook’s speech off.

“An apology is not enough to fix all of this, Jungkook.” You started saying. “Taehyung must hate me right now. And for what? Me fooling around with his friend when I should’ve kept my distance.”

Anger, sadness and regret can be demonstrated with a variety of physical acts, but all those emotions can be also delivered through words, hurting as much, hurting even more. Like a knife digging in the soft material of a pillow, your response cut deep in Jungkook’s heart.

An interesting reaction, taking into account that the boy has never, not even once, shown an ounce of weakness around you. It is true that he was softer than most guys when he was with the people he trusted and loved, but there was a slight switch in his attitude when it came down to you. Was it infatuation? Was it stupidity? Jungkook wasn’t sure, but he knew well enough that the things you were saying stung more than they should.

“You say that as if you regretted everything that happened between us.” He dared to speak once again, after pondering what his response should be.

“Maybe I do.”

Why does it hurt so much the words that were flying out of your mouth? Why was the situation affecting him in ways that it shouldn’t?

“Maybe I regret everything, maybe I wish nothing ever happened between us.” You didn’t actually mean it, but people tend to say things that hurt others when they’re angry. “It doesn’t matter if I do, though, you knew this shit wasn’t even worth fighting for.”

Jungkook stopped the car abruptly, ignoring the honking of the van behind you.

“Not worth fighting for?” He repeated, clearly offended. “Are you hearing yourself? You’re acting as if all of this was just my fault”

“I know it wasn’t all on you, I played my part too, but why does it matter so much to you all of a sudden?” You inquired with a venomous tone. “You were the one who said this wasn’t anything serious to begin with. You told me not to get my hopes up because we were just friends who happen to fuck all the time.”

That conversation was engraved on your brain, memorized to the very end. It hurt to repeat the words Jeon said to you, it hurt to remember every single detail of that night, but it was time to accept that neither of you were meant for the other.

He wasn’t yours to take, he wasn’t yours to keep.

And yet you wished that at the end things could be different.

“So it was all meaningless to you?” Jungkook demanded an answer of you.

His heart was beating fast, his hands were starting to sweat and there was a frown falling upon his eyebrows, making him look sort of adorable. For you at least, Jungkook has always been like a big puppy in search of attention, seeking for people’s affection and love when he couldn’t even love himself enough to commit to someone. He was an interesting guy, that much you could admit, but it wasn’t enough to go through the hassle of giving it a try to an already nonexistent relationship.

“You just wanna end things like this?” Jungkook’s mind was going crazy, he couldn’t comprehend how you could act so nonchalant and heartless about it. “I just… I can’t just let you—”

“There’s nothing to end.” You cut him off. “You can’t end something that never started.”

Like cold snow falling upon his face in a swift motion; like a hundred knives digging in his soul and ripping his heart out; like the most saddening ballad cutting deep in someone’s mind to bring back the memories of a past lover.

It all hurt the same, it all happened as fast. It all was just equally awakening.

“Is that what you want?”

Jungkook’s dead voice wounded you just a little, but it wasn’t enough to stop your answer.

“Yes, that’s what I want.” You confirmed.

Without wasting any other second, Jeon started the car again, letting out a heavy sigh while maintaining a hard grip on the wheel.

And for better or for worse, not a single word was uttered the rest of the ride to your house; representing the finish line of a race that never even started.

Seven days, four hours, twenty minutes and thirty-two seconds. That’s how long it has been since the last time you heard the voice of your brother, or even knew anything about him, for that matter. Seven days since you last saw him; seven days since one of your biggest fears came true; seven days since Taehyung looked at you right in the face with an expression full of discomfort and disappointment, one that he has never shown until now. Seven days since Jungkook tried to talk you out of ending things with him.

Seven days have passed and not much has changed, besides the fact that you have felt lonelier than before. The monotonous routine of attending lectures, studying, going to work and then coming back home alone was damaging your mental health and your stability was starting to decay. Sadly, you didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself. It was a hard pill to swallow, but in the end it was all the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Had you thought about everything more thoroughly, the outcome would have been way different. No one would have felt betrayed, because you wouldn’t have had the need to hide anything from anyone to begin with. No one would have gone home feeling broken or with a heavy weight on their shoulders.

A lot of things would have been different, but rather than dwelling on the matters that have already happened, you decided to keep your mind at bay.

Work and school kept you occupied, but it didn’t relieve the pain that was poisoning your weak heart whenever you received a message or a call from someone who wasn’t Taehyung. His two friends kept you updated about how he was doing, but it wasn’t enough for you; you needed to hear it from the guy himself. Which seemed to be a task rather difficult due to the current situation.

Jungkook tried to reach out to you a few times after that night, but on the fourth day of calling and texting you nonstop, he finally let go of the idea of fixing things up, with one final text where he poured his full heart, just for you. If Jeon had been any more honest at some other point in his life, he didn’t acknowledge it. For him that long text was his truest self, his bare feelings abandoning his body with the hope of reaching you on time. Nonetheless, you two were living in different realities, it seems. You didn’t even dare to read the message, opting to block him and ignore how unhealthy and wrong it was to act that way.

It was unfair of you to treat him so poorly, but your pride stopped you from seeing the bigger picture. You were at fault, in the same way that Jungkook was; both of you took the decision to intertwine your bodies that one night, and both of you decided to maintain the secret encounters. It was a crime committed by two bodies, but that sadly left three broken hearts behind. Two at fault and one caught in the crossfire.

You’ve caught yourself wishing you would’ve done things differently; no secrets, no betrayal. No guilt, no fear. However, it was that same predicament that led you to meeting Jungkook, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were grateful for that. Behind his fuckboy persona there was a kindhearted guy that not everyone knew, but that you wish could be yours; Jeon was, for lack of better words, the type of guy that any girl would love to have as a partner, but alas you wouldn’t be the one to experience it.

And that cold and saddening truth was what prevented you from ignoring your pride and reaching out to him.

“Y/n…” a distant voice called your name. “Y/n!”

Looking up from your long-forgotten class review, you stared at one of your closest friends, Eunbi. She was a 5’6, black-haired girl, with the personality of a fifty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a twenty-three-year-old girl. In better words, she was your best friend. You met her during orientation and you two hit it off right away; have been inseparable ever since.

“I’ve been calling you for a solid minute.” She chuckled lightly. “You okay there?”

You sighed, taking off your glasses to rub your eyes. An annoyed groan wanted to leave your mouth, but you were quick to suppress it before making any unwanted noise while being at the library.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired I guess.”

Eunbi looked like she knew you weren’t completely honest, however, she didn’t push any longer for an answer and you were grateful for that. You weren’t in the mood to explain the whole disaster you were into with your brother and his best friend.

“Wanna stop here and go grab some coffee? I’m kinda tired too.”

You wanted to decline and keep studying, but truth be told, if you kept up the act of trying to busy your mind with anything to keep it away from the topic you didn’t want to speak about, it would damage you more than it already has. So the distraction was greatly appreciated and a decision was rapidly made.

“Yeah, I could use some caffeine.”

Both of you abandoned your comfortable seats at the library, gathering your belongings to start your way out to the nearest coffee shop. The breeze caressed your skin with its refreshing wind; there has been a sudden change in the weather that has put the barely tolerable heat on pause. The gray clouds were adorning the sky, which in result made you curse under your breath for not having an umbrella with you.

“Seems like it’s going to rain.” Eunbi lamented, for she didn’t bring anything to protect herself from the water either. “We better hurry to get there before it starts.”

Your gaze moved slowly down from the gloomy sky, observing your surroundings with a deep sigh trapped in your throat. The saddening weather didn’t help you to cheer up, but maybe the tall guy waiting for you a few feet away would.

It took you a few seconds to realize that it was your brother who was waving at you while leaning on the hood of his car. Taehyung seemed relaxed and nonchalant, clearly not aware of the immense joy that he had brought upon you by just being there, due to finally seeing him after so long.

“Tae?” A small whisper fell from your lips. “Eunbi, can we raincheck? I um… My brother’s here.” You looked over your friend on the side, while smiling apologetically at her.

“Of course, don’t worry about me. We can have that coffee another day.” A soft smile was all you received after that, while your friend made her way home.

Uncertainty was quickly taking its place in your chest, making it a bit difficult for you to be calm and collected. There was a weird feeling making your fingers tingle, while your skin got coated with goosebumps; one that you rapidly disclosed as fear.

You feared the reason your brother was at your university. You feared the inevitable conversation you most likely will have with him, but above all, you feared the outcome of said conversation, scared it might break you more than the whole situation already has.

Your heart was pounding rapidly against your chest while you were, albeit reluctantly, walking towards Taehyung. His soft grin didn’t mirror your awkward grimace, already creating a tense atmosphere between you two.

“What… What are you doing here?” Your question came out rather strongly, in comparison to how nervous you were. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

Taehyung nodded, looking down at his feet for a brief second.

“Am I not allowed to come see my little sister?”

No, when you haven’t contacted her in a whole week, you’re not.

“I guess so.” You finally answered, opting to take the easy route and avoid arguing at all costs.

“Get in, I don’t want you getting sick because of the weather.”

A simple sentence that held a lot of meaning behind. Not only was it the fact that Taehyung finally had the courage to present himself in front of you, but he also continued to care for you, even when the prospect of the bond shared between the two being more than broken by now was a possibility he strongly believed in.

Regardless of the initial surprise that painted your face and that invaded your heart, you followed his words and entered the car, tossing your things into the backseat. The ride to your house was filled with an awkward silence, neither of you daring to talk due to not knowing what to say to make things better. Your brother would often sigh and look at you, only to give you a tight-lipped smile and continue driving.

It was safe to say that things were far from being like they used to be, at least for now. It had never been a problem to start and maintain a conversation with the older guy sitting next to you, but it seems like now it was a complete torture for the both of you to be in and share the same space.

A pang of guilt struck your chest for the awkward situation you were found in. A little voice at the back of your head telling you that it was all your fault, and that you should do something quickly to fix it up.

The truth was that you, once again, didn’t know how. It was uncharted territory, not even once in your life had you been in a predicament such as the one you were currently living. It was safe to say that you didn’t know what to do.

Despite being clueless and frustrated, you finally found the courage to form a coherent sentence to break the uncomfortable silence. And it was with a shaky hand fisting your skirt and trembling lips that you finally spoke.

“So… It’s not like I’m complaining or anything, but why exactly did you come to pick me up?” You inquired, staring right at him “You’ve never done that before.”

Truth be told, Taehyung didn’t think this through, he didn’t even imagine he would get this far; the only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t like the current situation. It was already hard to digest the news of you and his best friend being somewhat together —at least from his perspective that’s what it was—, to add the burden of not being on good terms with you to the pile of concerns that Taehyung had.

On top of that, he felt guilty. Guilty for being so hard on you, guilty for not letting you explain yourself, guilty for not caring enough about you and Jungkook’s feelings before shutting both of you out. But then again, it was a normal reaction, one that was expected from him.

It was due to that that Taehyung decided it was finally time to talk with you and sort everything out, the only thing he didn’t foresee was how awkward and hard it would be to communicate with you after a week.

“Well…” He drifted off, stopping at a red light. “We need to talk… But I think it’s better if we do that once we’re at your place.”

It was decided, and silence had, once again, conquered the space inside Taehyung’s expensive car. You didn’t bother to try to break it this time, opting to save all your energy for the, most probably, draining conversation that you and your brother would have in a matter of minutes.

The moment you saw your building becoming nearer and nearer you let out a sigh of relief. Being trapped in such a small space with such high and thick tension engulfing both of you was making you feel upset. You were thankful for the fresh air gracing your face once you stepped out of Taehyung’s car, however, your joy was short-lived due to the cold droplets of water falling rapidly from the sky.

“Hurry up inside.”

Both of you made your way quickly towards the entrance, not sparing a second glance to your landlord at the door, but rather walking straight into the elevator.

Once you were in the warm insides of your apartment, you finally let your shoulders slump, while a tired groan abandoned your lips. Taehyung followed suit, taking his shoes off at the door and walking towards your living room.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll go change.” You shared before going into your room.

Comfortable clothes, that’s what you were seeking for. If a disaster was bound to go down, at least you would be wearing your soft pair of pajama shorts and that one shirt you stole from Jimin when you were over at his and your brother’s apartment.

It was a matter of a few minutes before you encountered Taehyung once again. His eyes were locked on his phone screen, looking rather entertained by whatever he was watching.

“I’m back.” You informed him, while taking a seat next to him. “Do you… perhaps wanna talk now?”

Hesitance and curiosity were invading your mind and soul at the moment, making you feel uneasy. You shouldn’t be so aggravated or feel so anxious, it was your brother sitting beside you, not a stranger. But then again, you weren’t prepared for the conversation, and instead of taking things easy, you were overthinking every single thing about it.

“I don’t really know how to start this.” Taehyung avoided looking at you, which in result caused you to feel hurt. “I wanna say a lot of things but I don’t think I have enough words to express them.” He chuckled lightly, fidgeting with his fingers while looking right into his lap. “I’m gonna start with the obvious. I was mad, that night at the race, I got really upset. I don’t know what pushed you to make the decision of hiding such a thing from me, but it really hurt Y/n.”

You knew that already. You knew that you fucked up and that it affected Taehyung more than he would like to admit, but it was the path you chose, the only thing left to do was walk through it and accept all the consequences.

“There was no need, you know?” It was then that he looked at you. “Like I told you that night, I wasn’t upset about you two being together and I never would. What you do with your love life or who you decide to be with is none of my business. I can’t stop you from liking someone, even if that someone is my best friend.” Taehyung let out a sigh, searching for the right words to say. “I got mad because you lied to me. I don’t like when you do that or hide things from me, it makes me feel as if you don’t trust me. And I really don’t want to think that’s the case.”

“It’s not!” You were quick to say, already fearing he would get the wrong idea. “I swear I trust you, you are the only person I actually confide the majority of my life to.” You sighed, feeling a heavy weight on your chest. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I think it’s partially my fault. Maybe I haven’t been doing a good job at being a trustworthy brother.”

You wanted to say no, to make him stop thinking that way about himself, but he didn’t give you the time.

“What I want to say is… I might have been mad at you, at Jungkook and at the whole situation, but I’m also sorry for how I reacted.” Taehyung finally let out the words that were bugging him ever since that night. “I’m sorry I shut you out completely for this long, and I’m sorry for not talking things through sooner. I can’t control the decisions you make, and most importantly I shouldn’t be upset about the guys you get involved with. I just…” Taehyung drifted off. “I was just worried about you getting hurt that I didn’t notice the big mistake I made. I didn’t take into account your feelings and how my words would hurt you and for that I’m so fucking sorry.”

Seven days, five hours and fifteen minutes. That’s how long it took to finally hear your brother’s voice again. That’s how long it took to finally sort things out. That’s how long it took Taehyung to say those awaited words.

Seven days passed, and not even once you stopped thinking about what would happen if you were to have the opportunity to explain everything.

Until now.

“Taehyung,” You whispered, “you don’t need to apologize, I should be the one apologizing. It was so fucked up of me going behind your back and messing around with Jungkook.” You sighed. “I didn’t think things through and it almost cost me your trust and love, and for that you have no idea how sorry I am.”

Taehyung smiled softly at you, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He said.

“I’m not, I’m just being honest.” You lightly argued. “Still, I’m sorry for lying to you, for hiding things from you, for… For messing around with your best friend. You didn’t deserve any of it.” A tight-lipped grin was sent his way. “I promise I won’t do anything like that again, I value our bond more than any quick fuck.”

Taehyung hissed, retrieving his hand from yours.

“When you say it like that it sounds weird.”

You chuckled, poking his side in a playful manner.

“Hey, I’m trying to be serious here, don’t ruin the moment.” You complained.

“I’m sorry, but it’s weird listening to my little sister saying she had a quick… well, that.” He grimaced, shaking his head to prevent himself from getting any unwanted mental image of it.

“It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scoffed, feeling suddenly defensive. “But that’s not the point of this conversation. What I really wanna know is… Are we good? Do you forgive me?”

Taehyung smiled at you sweetly, “Only if you forgive me too.”

It was a no brainer. You would do anything to go back to normality, to have your brother in the same way you have always had him. To not be scared of saying or doing the wrong thing; to finally be free of lies and secrets.

“I do.” You responded cheerfully.

You found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso, while resting your head on his shoulder. One of Taehyung’s hands came up to caress your hair, sweetly, while the other was softly patting your back. You were finally where you needed— wanted to be, and somehow it still felt weird.

There was a feeling of something missing, like a part of you was still holding onto an invisible string, tying you to someone whom you weren’t ready to face just yet. It didn’t take much to figure out why you were feeling that way, but it only served to leave you with more doubts and confusion.

Why was your heart calling his name? Why was your soul hurting for him? Why was your mind thinking of him?

All those questions were left unanswered, although you already knew the reason. The line between accepting the hard truth and ignoring your feelings was so thin that you didn’t even notice when you crossed it, but you definitely felt it. Like salt rubbed on a fresh wound, your heart ached just as much when the thought of Jungkook finally letting go of you was presented in your mind. That’s mostly why your heart, mind and soul were so desperately seeking his presence.

Maybe that’s even why you would tear up at night while staring at your phone. Waiting for a text, for a call, for anything that would let you know that even in some twisted reality, Jeon Jungkook felt the same for you.

“Youf shouf call hif.”

Eunbi was stuffing her face with a fresh baked bagel, not really minding how little you could understand about what she was saying, due to her full mouth.

“Could you please swallow your food before speaking? I can’t understand you.” A grimace took place on your face, while watching your friend enjoy her food.

You weren’t against Eunbi being so openly in love with whatever she was eating, but there was a limit for your patience when it came to eating etiquette.

“I said…” She finally swallowed the bite she took. “You should call him.”

A confused look was sent her way, while you took a sip of your iced coffee.

“Whom?” You asked, looking at her quizzically. “Be more specific, I just told you about what’s been going on in my life and I mentioned a lot of people.”

It took some convincing but Eunbi finally got all the gossip out of you. It was weird at first, to confess to someone else rather than to the people involved in the problem about everything that happened, let alone about your painfully obvious feelings. Because, although you weren’t ready to openly admit it yet, Eunbi didn’t need to know much to understand what was really happening in that complicated heart of yours.

“Your brother’s friend.” She answered after taking a sip of her drink. “That guy, Joncook.”

“Jungkook.” You corrected her with an annoyed sigh. Whether she has been purposely pronouncing his name wrong or she seriously couldn’t remember it, you didn’t know. “I already told you his name is Jungkook.”

“Potato, potahto.” Eunbi shrugged, cleaning her mouth after finishing her food. “Point stands. Call him.”

“Why would I? Didn’t you listen to anything I just said?” You asked thoroughly confused, “Clearly he’s not into me, otherwise he wouldn’t have said that it was a no strings attached type of thing.”

Eunbi wanted to hit you in the head to knock some sense into you. It was obvious, not only to her but to anyone who came across you two during those months of secret encounters. Jungkook, the rebellious and cold hearted man that anyone deemed as the raunchiest fuckboy, but that surprisingly most people would be willing to fuck. That’s who Jungkook was, but for Eunbi, for his friends and even for your own brother, Jeon was just a guy afraid to show his real feelings for you.

Almost too sickeningly cute, with his doe eyes and dumb smile, ready to go to the ends of the Earth to make you laugh or at least get a grin out of you. It was so painfully obvious to anyone but you how badly in love he was. It wasn’t infatuation, although at first it was a huge possibility; it wasn’t a simple crush despiste starting as one. It went beyond that, beyond the weak barriers of taking a liking of his best friend’s sister. It was more than just saying that he thought you were attractive, although he clearly thought that.

Jeon Jungkook had it bad for you. But how could you be able to see that?

The only face he would ever show you was one full of indifference, overconfidence and nonchalance; adorned with a smug smile and a pair of darkened eyes that warned you with a simple look that pure chaos was about to ensue. However, he did treat you differently than most girls. Jungkook would never get out of his bed at one in the morning just because your friends ditched you at a bar at the very last minute and you were too scared to call an Uber or a taxi.

He’s never remembered the coffee order of the girls he’s hooked up with, but oddly enough he remembers the exact amount of sugar you like in yours; Jungkook wouldn’t even remember their names. But yours? Yours was embroidered on the very front of his brain, not willing to erase it, not willing to forget it. Your order would be the first thing that comes to his mind every time he’s at a coffee shop, and more often than not he’s made the mistake of ordering yours instead of his, only to realize what he did a second too late. Your name was always at the tip of his tongue, risking his opportunity to fuck a random girl he met at a party. All because he almost said your name.

All those things were unmistakable, not easy to be looked over or ignored.

But once again, how could you be able to notice that the man was head over heels for you? When you wouldn’t even let your heart accept its own feelings.

“Do I really need to say it?” Eunbi deadpanned, staring at you with an annoyed look. “My god, Y/n, you’re not usually this dumb!”

“Excuse you?” You look offended, and rightfully so, but you were also ignoring the fact that your friend was just trying to make you see the obvious. “You’re being mean right now.”

“And you’re not being reasonable.” She sighed in exhaustion. “At least think about it, alright? If what you told me it’s anything to go by, that boy has it bad for you.”

Thinking is all you did, thinking is all you knew; it seemed to be like an easy task, but in hindsight it was way more difficult. It took you two more days to actually come to the conclusion that Eunbi may be right, and for those two days your mind didn’t have a peaceful moment to even worry about your upcoming exams. Your brain was completely fried at that point, full with possibilities and theories of what the outcome of finally confronting Jungkook might be.

The first possible outcome was the least feared out of the thousands.

If you were to reach Jungkook through a text, he would not reply. Now, that wasn’t really that bad, and in a more down to earth mindset, it would be completely deserved. Your not so reasonable side of your brain reassured you that he would and most likely will reply to any text you send him. Why wouldn’t he, after all?

The second possible outcome was one that you didn’t want to acknowledge.

If you were to call him, Jungkook would hang up after telling you to fuck off for not reaching out sooner. Seemed fitting and a very Jungkook-thing to do, but still you wished for that scenario to be false.

The last one was the worst among the assumptions swimming through your head. If you were to finally confess your feelings… he would reject you.

Rejection as a whole seemed like a terrifying experience. People would often avoid getting to that point, whether it would be them facing rejection or being the culprit of someone else’s broken heart. You had been on both sides, had gone through both experiences; it wasn’t anything you would like to live again. Hence to why you were trying so hard to suppress your feelings.

Poor and weak heart of yours, it didn’t choose who you love, but it certainly chose who you hurt. And as it turns out, it wasn’t only your brother who got caught in the crossfire.

Ever since you were a kid, flowers made you feel at ease. Their smell, their texture, even their bright colors. Anything about flowers was as relaxing as a day at the beach, at least for you.

You grew to be that one girl completely enamored with nature, and your fascination for flowers was only enhanced once you realized that people would use them as a token of love and appreciation for others. It was romantic, it was pure, it was honest. Gifting flowers to those who you loved and appreciated, to those who you held close to your heart, was such a kind and lovely gesture.

It was the purest act of love you could come across.

The meaning behind every kind of flower was such a wonderful thing to discover. Daisies were often a symbol of happiness and purity; whereas hydrangeas symbolize comfort in times of sorrow, especially at funerals. Orchids often represented beauty and strength, as well as the flowers birds of paradise. Roses, often associated with deep passion and love, had variations in meaning due to their colors; they could represent innocence and purity if they were white, or friendship and warmth if they were yellow.

However, among all those types of flowers, the ones you were holding in your hands at the moment were the hardest ones to carry with you. For no other reason than their meaning.

Striped carnations were often known for representing regret and remorse. They were used to apologize for past actions or mistakes.

It seemed fitting, so you bought the bouquet when you passed by a flower shop on your way to Jungkook’s house.

It took you way too long, but it was after one decisive night in that lonesome room of yours, fighting back the tears while finally reading those soft and beautiful words Jungkook used to pour his heart out, to confess his unmistakable love for you, that you finally made the decision. It was now or never, whatever the outcome of this might be, you’d face it and endure it.

So it was with shaky hands and wobbly legs that you carried yourself to Jeon’s apartment, holding the flowers tightly, afraid that they might disappear if you loosen the grip.

Several seconds passed with you standing outside his door, fearing that if you knocked reality might finally hit you in the face with the bitter truth: Jungkook didn’t want you anymore.

“Are you gonna stand there all day, or you’ll finally let me get in my house?”

That husky and seductive voice. It was hard to miss and hard to mistake it for anyone else’s. That particular voice tone has been playing in your head ever since the night everything went down. It was obvious who it belonged to, and the undeniable fact only made your nerves reach a whole new level.

“See, I wouldn’t usually complain about a pretty girl standing outside my door, but I really need to get these bags inside.” Jungkook didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and even if he did you would never notice.

Maybe you made the right choice to come and finally talk, or maybe you didn’t.

Truth was that as it has been stated many times before, you were very oblivious, so it would be no surprise if you read the room wrong. But then again, he called you pretty, right? Wouldn’t that count for something?

“I— Yes! Fuck, sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t home.”

First apology of the night; many more to come.

“Would you mind helping me get my keys?” The dark-haired man in front of you turned around, just the right amount to insinuate that you grab the keys from his back pocket. “The left one.”

Hesitantly, you reached out and dug into his pocket to retrieve the keys and give them to him. There was a light and soft touch when your fingers brushed that sent a slight shiver through your body.

It has been so long since the last time you were this close to Jungkook that you were already forgetting his touch, his smell and the way he could mesmerize you with a single look.

“Come on in.” Jeon led the way inside his house. “Get comfortable while I put this away.”

Jungkook was quick to make his way to the kitchen, getting the groceries out of the bags and setting everything in their respective place. It was hard for you to loosen up and get comfortable in a space that became foreign to you. Had it been any other time, you wouldn’t have thought twice before sitting on the couch, or even following him to the kitchen to tell Jungkook about your day while he loaded his fridge with meat and veggies. But now it was different. Now you felt an increasing tension between you two, which made you stand stiff in the middle of his living room, rethinking your decision of finally confronting him.

It was not that you were a coward —maybe you were— but more so the fact that you didn’t know how to have a proper and serious conversation with the guy in question. The talk you had with your brother was orchestrated by Taehyung himself, you only chimed in to apologize profusely, which shouldn’t have been enough but seemed to be more than sufficient for your brother. However, this time the ball was in your court, you were meant to do the talking while Jungkook was expected to listen attentively or at least pretend he was.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through before putting your plan into action, but it was too late to back down now, and in all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were capable to postpone this conversation any longer.

“I gotta admit, when Taehyung told me you were planning on paying me a visit I didn't believe him.” Jungkook’s voice rang through your ears once again, he walked back from the kitchen, becoming aware of your quizzical look. “Oh, he didn’t tell you we were back on friendly terms, I see.” He chuckled, beckoning you to sit on the couch with him.

Not only did your brother omit the fact that he was back to being friends with Jungkook, but also he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your plans of finally talking to Jeon, which made you upset by default. You thought that by now secrets and hiding things would have been out of the picture between you and Taehyung, but it looked like it was only you who decided to go down the path of honesty.

“You two… Is everything okay between you and my brother?” It was only fair to ask, although you already knew the answer.

Jungkook nodded, looking away from you.

“He called me a few days ago to talk, and well…” He drifted off. “I would say that everything’s back to normal.”

“That’s good.” You nodded.

It truly was. It might not seemed like it, but you were equally concerned about their bond being broken as you were about yours with your brother. It would deeply pain you to know that they couldn’t continue to be the best of friends after the incident. It sent you a sense of relief that they were on good terms again, at least you didn’t have to worry about ruining their friendship anymore.

“Are those for me?” His sudden question made you blink repeatedly. “The flowers, I mean.”

Looking down at your lap you realized that you were still tightly holding the bouquet of striped carnations.

“Oh… yes, they’re for you.” Your hands moved slowly to softly place the bouquet on Jungkook’s palm.

“Why thank you.” He seemed surprised. “Usually I’m the one gifting flowers, not the other way around, so this is a first. Although, I don’t know if I should feel flattered or concerned that you’re giving me…” Jungkook stopped for a moment to look at the flowers more attentively. “Striped carnations.”

Of course he knew the meaning of the flowers. When has Jungkook not made you feel like a total idiot due to his undeniable intelligence?

“Yeah, well…” You drifted off, not really knowing what to say.

The dark-haired guy let out a soft sigh, while the ghost of a smile took place on his lips.

“Why are you here, Y/n?” Jungkook asked, silently urging you to answer honestly. “We both know you’re not here just to deliver these.”

You took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes for a second. In theory, it shouldn’t be this hard to answer his question or to start the speech that you have been memorizing all these days, but it was easier said than done. It was as if all the words in the English language had vanished from your brain, and you were left with dumb sounds that wouldn’t help your case.

“Maybe I should change my question.” Jungkook placed the flowers on this coffee table, before speaking again. “Are you sure you want to go through this today? It’s obvious you came here to talk about us, but how I see it, you might not be ready for it yet.”

You shook your head, squirming in your place to find a more comfortable position.

“I wanna do this, I really do.” You assured him. “I just don’t know how to start.”

The tattooed man nodded, carefully sliding a bit closer to you.

“Maybe you can start by telling me why you gave me those flowers.”

Jungkook, bless his heart, always knew how to get the best out of you. It was easy for him to get people to talk about things they didn’t even know they needed to let out. It almost made you think he had some sort of magic going on that would compel others to be open about their feelings.

“They… They symbolize regret.” You finally answered. “They’re usually given when you want to apologize to someone.”

It was certainly easier to explain the meaning than to actually do it, but it must count for something, right?

“Mhmm.” He hummed, waiting for you to continue with your explanation. “Why give them to me then?”

“Because I want to apologize to you.” There, you finally said it, there was no going back. “I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Taking a deep breath you continued. “I’m sorry about what happened that night, I’m sorry for the way I treated you afterwards; I’m sorry for putting all the blame on you when I was just as guilty. I’m so fucking sorry for the things I did and said.”

You felt like you could finally breathe, like a weight was slowly lifting off your shoulders.

“You didn’t deserve any of that.” Tears were starting to cloud your vision. “I didn’t mean it when I said I wished I didn’t meet you. It was so stupid of me to say it, getting to know you has been one of the most complicated yet amazing things that have happened to me. And I’m truly sorry that I wasn’t able to show it.”

Jeon reached out to wipe away the tears that were starting to run down your cheeks.

“Please don’t cry.” He begged, almost too quietly.

It pained him how aggravated and distressed you were, right in front of him. Jungkook knew it was only right for you to apologize but it wasn’t fair that you were suffering so much when he was at fault too.

“I’m sorry too.” He finally apologized. “I did things wrong, I shouldn’t have agreed to hide all of this from Taehyung. I knew we weren’t doing the right thing, but I let it slide because it meant I could have you longer.”

Jeon regretted how things went down, but it would be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy his time with you. Jungkook knew that the moment the truth was out, it would only complicate everything for the both of you; not to mention that he was scared that Taehyung would prohibit him from being near you. Jungkook was so weak for you that he couldn’t stand the possibility of losing you so easily. And so it was decided that it would be kept as a secret for as long as you two deemed necessary. However, he didn’t really think that the outcome would be so painful.

“I just… I couldn’t bear not being with you. I couldn’t let you go.” Jungkook confessed. “I’m sorry. A lot of things would’ve been different if I did.”

“No.” You shook your head. “Even if you tried, I wouldn’t have let it happen.” You brushed the tears away, trying to keep your composure. “Could you please forgive me? I don’t… I don’t want you to hate me”

You were silently praying that the answer to your question would be yes. It scared you that he reserved the right to reject you and move on with his life. After all, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did, it would be rightfully deserved.

However, Jungkook once again proved to you that he was way different from what you picture him to be.

“I already forgave you, sweet cheeks.”

His smile, oh how much you missed his smile. It was the rainbow you needed to see after a storm. Like a warm blanket during a snowy day. Like the comfort you seeked when everything outside was falling apart.

It was so him, and it almost brought you back to tears when you finally saw it. Shining so bright and pretty on his face.

“And I’m afraid that there’s nothing you could do to make me hate you.” His hand reached out to cup your cheek, making you lean into his touch. “Would you be willing to forgive me too? I know I hurt you with the things I’ve done, but–”

“Yes. I forgive you, Kook.” You smiled at him softly.

“That means we’re good, right?”

If only it was that easy.

There was one thing that was still bothering you and it was the unmistakable feelings for the boy in front of you. Confessing has always been hard, but when it comes to confessing your feelings to Jeon Jungkook, it was ten times worse.

“Actually, there’s something I still need to talk about.” You approached the matter carefully.

“What is it?” Jungkook felt uneasy, he didn’t know what else you had to say, but it was making him nervous. As if he knew something bad would happen. “Are you still upset?”

“No! No, no, it’s not that.” You assured him. “I… it might be a dumb question but… That text, the one you sent me the last time you tried to reach out to me.”

Why was it so hard to say it?

“Did you mean it, all of it?”

A sigh abandoned Jungkook’s lips, and the hand that was once holding your face, slowly retrieved to fall on his lap.

That was it, he was gonna reject you. That was the thought running through your head. His lack of response set a crack in your heart, making you feel vulnerable, making you feel dumb. It was obvious what his answer was going to be, why did you even have to ask?

“You read it?” Jungkook finally spoke. “I thought you simply decided to ignore it.”

You sighed, feeling ashamed of your actions.

“I did at first. I mean, I only got to read it as of recent because I… might have blocked you.” You cringed after finally confessing what you did. “I know it was childish, trust me, but I was mad at the time and I thought it was for the better.”

Jungkook simply nodded, showing you a reassuring smile.

“So yes, I read it, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t surprise me.” You looked like in his eyes. “That’s why I’m asking… Did you really mean it?”

The words adorning your screen late at night while you were reading the long paragraph he sent you were engraved in your brain. It was all memorized at this point. You spent night after night reading every single word while tears were spurting out of your eyes, lamenting that you didn’t open his message sooner.

I would never forgive me for the pain I’ve caused you.

I’m sorry for being a coward and not saying this to your face.

You already knew how sorry he was, not only because he apologized only a few seconds ago, but Jungkook also poured his heart and soul into that message, letting you know how deeply sorry he felt for what he put you through.

This is me being honest, this is me being true to myself.

The confession was the hardest part to read, but it was equally shocking and relieving to know that…

I wish I could say this to you, face to face.

He indeed…

But I can’t hide it any longer.

Felt the same…

I love you, Y/n.

For you.

“I did. I meant it, with my whole heart.” Jungkook smiled at you, sweetly, delicately, lovingly. He wanted to express his love for you in any way he could, in every gesture, every word, every smile. “I don’t know if I might regret this later or not, but what I know is that I don’t want to act as if I weren’t so madly in love with you.”

His answer drew a gasp out of you. It was one thing reading his confession and getting to know his real feelings for you, but listening to him say it out loud was a new, different experience.

Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in the palm of your hands, as if you were the remedy for his pain; as if you were the only person worth fighting for. And maybe you were. He’s never felt any sort of feeling that could come close to the emotions he has experienced and continues to experience with you. His heart has never beaten so hard to the point of feeling as if it were to escape from his chest. It only felt like that when he was around you.

You were the reason for Jungkook's many sleepless nights, when Jeon could only think of every little detail about you that he loved so much. Your laugh, your smile, the way a frown would be adorning your face when you try to concentrate, or how adorable you look while playing with any pet you come across.

It was so hard for him to get you out of his mind; so difficult to erase the feeling of your skin burning against his, of your lips traveling all around his body to leave marks that he prayed would last a lifetime, because maybe that way, at least a part of you would stay within himself.

“I know you might not feel the same.” His husky voice echoed through the walls of his living room after a moment of silence. “And I didn’t say all those things in hopes you would reciprocate my feelings. I just couldn’t keep hiding it anymore.”

His words were running through your mind, as a distant noise. You wanted to say a lot of things, to scream from the top of your lungs that you loved him just as much, or maybe even more than he did you. But your brain and mouth weren’t connected, as it seems, because instead of putting an end to both of your sufferings, you opted to ask him:

“How long have you felt this way?”

Jungkook sighed, reminiscing about all the moments where he felt like falling in love with you. There weren’t that many, in all honesty, but every single one of them felt like the loveliest of dreams.

“I’m not entirely sure.” He confessed. “Maybe it was when I first met you and you were so nervous around me that you even tripped over your feet and fell onto me.” A smile was slowly appearing on his face, “Or perhaps it was when I picked you up from your friends house that one night. You were absolutely hammered and babbling about one of your friends doing a backflip while drinking a shot.”

“I was a complete mess that time.”

It was embarrassing to remember that night. You drank and ate so much that you ended up emptying your stomach the moment you walked in your house. The majority of it was a blur, but despite your clouded memory you could still remember the silly things you were saying to Jungkook.

It also happened to be the first time you almost confessed your feelings for him.

“You say that, but back then I thought that you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, with that green dress and your rosy cheeks.” Jungkook reached out to caress your face with his thumb. “The way you smiled at me that night… it was so hard for me not to kiss you until I lost breath.”

His words felt like a warm hug to your heart. Love is always a nightmare when you fall alone, and for so long you felt like it was only you who felt the chemistry between the two.

“Truth is, that I don’t know when or how I fell for you, it just naturally happened.” He smiled at you, cupping your cheek once again. “And I think it’s your fault I fell this hard.” Before you could protest, he continued. “How could I not develop feelings when you’re such a lovable person, Y/n. So caring, kind and beautiful through and through. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life and call you theirs.”

“Do it then.” A clear and determined glint was adorning your eyes. “Have me and call me yours.”

Your bold request surprised both of you. Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to say such a thing, let alone that you would indirectly confess that you wanted him in the same way he did you.

“What’d you say?”

“If you’re willing to have me, I want to be yours.” The anticipation was killing you, making all your senses be on the lookout for any sign of discomfort on Jungkook’s face. “I like you, Kook, and I mean it with my whole heart.”

Jeon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had already accepted the fact that you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. A one sided, unrequited love was all he got, but perhaps life finally decided to give me a breather and let him have the ounce of happiness that the boy desperately craved all along.

“You mean… you feel the same?” He asked carefully, waiting for your answer impatiently. “You lo—, no, you like me too?”

With a soft nod and a bright smile, you answered: “I do. I do like you, and I do love you, Jungkook.”

The words felt foreign coming from your mouth, as if you never imagined yourself proclaiming your love for the boy on countless nights. Reality, however, was way better than any hypothetical scenario where Jungkook would run to you to say it was mutual.

You could see the exact moment when your words finally made sense in his head, when he finally realized that this was not a dream and that you, in fact, felt the same for him.

“You better not be joking.” Jeon teased, still being a bit apprehensive that you might laugh at his face as part of some twisted prank to break his heart. “This is… not how I imagined this would go.”

“Me neither, but I can promise you that I’m being as serious and honest as I can be.”

“I believe you.”

And he really did; deep down Jungkook knew that even if life would want to turn on him and watch him suffer, you would never play a part in that. Your words felt sincere, despite the hesitation in your voice and your fidgeting fingers.

Jungkook was sure that he could lay his heart in your hands, and let you take it away to make it yours, and he would never have to worry of you hurting it.

“Now, does that mean we’re good, right?” He asked once again, with a bright grin on his face.

“Yes, we’re good now.” You giggled, sliding closer to him.

“So, can I kiss you now?”

You stopped in your tracks, with your wide-eyed gaze and tingling fingers, ready to feel his skin on yours.

It has been a long time since the last kiss you two shared, you would be lying if you said you weren’t needy for his kisses or his touch, and so, without a second thought you leaned in, stopping just a few inches from his face.

“Do it.”

Jungkook didn’t need more than that. Your words were enough to make him lose his composure and crash his lips against yours.

A warm sensation spread all around your body, filling you with ecstasy and the serotonin you much needed, also luring you to take more and more of him. Your hands started a slow trip up his torso to finally wrap around his neck and pull him closer than before.

Jungkook was holding you with such delicacy, as if he were scared that you would break. It felt like a lifetime since the last time he had you like this and the boy was afraid he would do something that could ruin the moment. Days and days Jeon spent replaying in his head those moments full of passion and need that you two loved to share; the times where he would have you in his arms, silently claiming you as his, while his lips traveled across your skin to paint your flesh with hues of red and purple. Back then, Jungkook could only hope that said marks would fade slowly, letting him enjoy the way your body had proof that the only man able to take all your inhibitions and make you reach the sky was no other than himself.

Now, feeling you like this, touching you like this, without the fear of someone seeing you and starting rumors, without the worry of hiding from your brother, and with the clear understanding that both of you feel the same for the other, Jungkook could finally enjoy the moment to the fullest. His warm hands engulfing you in his tender touch distracted you from his desperate lips running up and down your neck, and from his teeth sinking into your flesh.

A moan escaped from your mouth, parting your lips while a rush of heat conquered every inch of your skin. It was becoming difficult to keep the moment nice and romantic, without turning it into a hot mess of kisses and inappropriate touching.

“I love you, Y/n.” Jungkook whispered into your ear, before pulling slightly away to look right into your eyes. “I really do.”

His soft gaze ignited a bubbling feeling at the pit of your stomach, making you want to stay like this forever, just staring at each other with tender smiles. But a part of you knew it wouldn’t be enough, you wanted more, craved more, so it was no surprise when you pushed Jungkook to rest on the back of the couch while you moved to straddle him.

“Show me.” You asked. “Show me how much you love me.”

A sly smirk took place on Jungkook’s face, while his hands acted automatically to be placed on your hips and hold you down on his lap.

“I’m not sure you can handle it.” He teased. “That you can handle me.”

The tattooed man was looking for a challenge, to start a play of who can handle more before they get so desperate that clothes start to fly out all around the house.

“Try me, then.” You argued back. “I promise you, you’ll be surprised to find out how much of you I can handle.”

A scoff passed his lips while his hands tightened the grip on your hips.

“You sure you want this night to go like this? Don’t you prefer we take this slower?” Even if there was a light mocking tone attached to his voice, concern and worry were also adorning it.

Jungkook was still scared that tonight might be just a dream and that once he closes his eyes you would slip through his fingers to never be found again. He didn’t want to make or say the wrong thing, and it worried him that falling into old habits would do the damage he was trying to avoid.

“Do you want to take things slower?”

It was a possibility you never considered, but coming to think of it, maybe it was better to take it easy before rushing to do things you might not be ready to do just yet.

It was a fresh start after all, but maybe that didn’t implied fucking on the same night you two finally confessed your feelings for the other.

“I want you, but I don’t want to ruin this chance we have now.” His answer warmed your heart, making you smile at him. “I don’t want to make old mistakes and make you think I’m only using you for your body.”

“I know you’re not, at least now I do.” You assured him. “I want you, Jungkook, and I want this with you, but if you’re not ready that’s completely fine, we don’t have to do anything.”

He shook his head, wrapping both of his arms around your waist to hold you close to him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay with this.” A kiss was softly placed on your lips, before Jungkook suddenly stood up with you in his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. “But if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it somewhere comfortable.”

“The couch was comfortable enough.” You giggled, holding onto him to make sure you didn't fall.

“Maybe, but my girl deserves better than that.”

The last time you were in his room was when Jungkook decided it was a good idea to stay in, instead of going out with your friends. He managed to convince you to stay with him, as he promised you a night full of food, drinks and his head buried in between your thighs.

Back then you didn’t care to observe the little details that made Jungkook’s room so him.

His walls were painted with a somber hue of blue, adorned with pictures of him and the rest of his friend group or his family. Your brother appeared in most of the photos, as Jungkook cherished every single moment they have spent together. There was even a picture of him and his dog, Bam, which was currently at his parents house, framed on the nightstand. The rest of the room was as any guy’s room would be; clothes scattered across the floor, that you would often steal from him whenever you were at his place; messy desk with cans of beer and energy drinks, as well as his computer and a pair of headphones; two vapes were also left on the desk, next to a pair of rings and a watch.

The bed was adorned with a single pillow and white sheets. He didn’t need much as he lived alone, but anytime you were over Jungkook would try to accommodate his house to make you feel comfortable.

“Sorry for the lack of pillows.” He apologized when he put you down on the soft mattress. “I didn’t know you were coming over, or I would’ve gotten the one you like so much.”

“It’s not like we’re gonna use it right now, so we’re good.” You chuckled tugging his shirt to bring him down to you. “Now, please do something, I’ve been waiting for way too long to have you like this again.”

“So impatient.” He smirked, running his hands up and down your sides. “Let me take my time with you, like you said, it’s been too long.”

Jungkook started a trail of kisses down your neck, while his hands pushed up the fabric of your shirt to knead your hot skin.

“We need to take this off.” He didn’t waste a moment to take your shirt off, admiring your upper body with hungry eyes. “Fuck, I missed seeing you like this, baby.”

Jeon didn’t give you time to reply before his mouth attacked your lips once again. There was desperation and neediness coursing through both of your bodies and it was palpable how bad you wanted one another, which in result made the two of you act clumsy while getting undressed.

Jungkook struggled to take off your bra and pants but he finally did, leaving you only in your underwear. His hands ran up to fondle your tits, feeling them and tugging at your nipples while his lips were rapidly traveling down to the place where you needed him the most.

“So fucking perfect, you have no idea how much I wanted to have you like this.” He confessed, placing wet kisses all around your inner thighs.

“Jungkook…” You called for him in a breathy voice, while squirming in your place.

The sensations he was sending right to your core were making it impossible for you to stay put.

“Please…” You begged.

“Please, what?” He asked. “What do you want, beautiful?”

It was hard for you to talk, especially with his mouth so dangerously close to your soaked cunt, but you managed.

“Please touch me.” You moaned out, hands traveling down to pull his hair and get him closer to your core.

“Is this not enough?” Jungkook inquired, playfully. He didn’t relent, getting out of your grasp to do as he pleased. “Do you need more, baby?”

A nod was all he got, but that wouldn’t cut it, not for Jungkook.

“Use your words.” A harsh smack was delivered to one of your thighs, making it jiggle. “Come on, be good and tell me what you want.”

Groaning you rested your weight on your shoulders to look down at him with desperate eyes.

“Please touch me here.” Your hand moved rapidly to caress your center through your wet underwear. “I need you so bad.”

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” Jungkook didn’t waste a second longer on teasing you, instead he made sure to take off your dripping panties, putting them to the side and forcing your legs to stay wide open. “Look at that, so pretty and wet for me, huh?” He ran his fingers through your folds, smearing your juices all over. “This is just for me, right baby?”

You nodded vehemently, chasing after his touch.

“Yes, only you can get me like this.”

The tattooed guy dipped down, placing a dangerous kiss right under your navel, so close yet so far away from where you needed him the most. A fire was ignited in between your legs, and Jungkook was the perfect remedy for that. His lips traveled down slowly, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He took his sweet time licking up and down your folds, his wet tongue felt wonderful against your burning flesh, making you elicit the sweetest of sounds just for him.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” Moan after moan, your composure and sanity were slowly disappearing, leaving you with an ardent need to grind against his tongue. “Faster, please…”

Your boy couldn’t deny any of your wishes, and so his pace quickened in a matter of seconds, running his tongue up and down as fast as he could, only momentarily stopping at your clit to suck on it before continuing with his ministrations. Jungkook was avidly eating you out, enjoying the taste of your juices on his hot tongue and the feeling of your entrance clenching on it whenever he let it slip in. It was like heaven on earth, like a much needed meal he waited for so long. And just like a starved man, Jeon did his best to devour you until there was nothing else from you that he could take.

“Don’t stop, I’m so fucking close!” You could feel his fingers opening your folds to make their way inside your cunt, pumping in and out at a slow pace. “Oh my god!”

Your hands were still pulling at his hair, desperately trying to get a good hold on him to bring him closer and closer to you.

“You taste so freaking good, baby.” Jungkook pulled away to inhale some air before diving in again and smothering his face with your soaking folds. “Fuck, best pussy I’ve ever had.”

His nasty words were making your eyes flutter shut, with a stream of curses falling off your lips. It was ridiculous how good he could make you feel with his mouth and his fingers, you always wondered how he knew exactly what to do to make you see the stars. Jungkook was so good at reading your body, even better than you ever could; his touch was delicious, charged with the right amount of passion to throw you over the edge.

“You getting close, doll? Wanna come on my tongue, hm?”

“Yes, please! I’m so close.” You begged, breathlessly. “I just— fuck, need it… need to cum, please.”

A chuckle vibrated against your cunt, making you shiver. His fingers slipped out of your hole, leaving you empty and needy.

“Go on, pretty, cum for me.”

It was almost automatic; the moment those words left Jungkook’s mouth, the waves of your pending orgasm finally crashed over your body, making your legs shake and leaving your skin coated in goosebumps. Eyes fully shut and mouth widely open, not caring about the obscene sounds coming out of it like a chant. Jeon’s name was repeated over and over like a broken record, just like a fervent believer would pray away their sins, so vehemently, so desperately. His name was attached to your brain, making it the only coherent word leaving your lips.

“There you go, that’s my good girl.” He caressed your sides softly. “You look so beautiful when you cum.”

His praise made your head feel fuzzy and the fire between your legs was fueled once again, ready for another round.

Slowly you opened your eyes, blinking away the tiredness and trying to focus on the boy in front of you. His face became clearer and clearer, providing you with one of his breath-taking smiles.

“You good there?” Jungkook asked, sweetly, while a tender kiss was placed on your lips. “D’you wanna take a moment?”

You shook your head, still recovering your ability to speak properly.

“I wanna…” A whisper ran through his ears, prompting him to lean closer. “Want to…”

“What do you want, my love?”

My love.

Jungkook has never called you that before, and if you were to be true, it felt fucking amazing to hear him say it.

“You, I want you.” It was your final answer, looking right up at him with a fierce glare.

Your hands reached out to palm him through his boxers, feeling his hard erection twitch under your touch. The dark-haired boy hissed at the sensation of your fingers wrapping around his cock, while giving it a light squeeze.

“You don’t— shit, you don’t have to.” Jeon reassured you. “Let me… take care of you.”

“But I want to.” You argued back, slipping your hand inside his underwear. He felt heavy and warm, and so painfully hard that it made you feel bad that he had to stay confined in the small space of his boxers while he ate you out. “Let me taste you, baby.”

You were craving his cock ever since you stepped into his room; the mental image of his dick pumping in and out of your mouth left you salivating, almost whimpering at the thought.

“Please, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Jungkook closed his eyes for a brief moment, pondering if he should let you have your way or if it was better to turn you around and fuck you into oblivion. He reasoned, at the end, that he could do both. Jeon would let you have your fun for a moment, and afterwards he would completely destroy you with his cock.

“How can I say no to such a pretty baby?” He grinned at you, getting in a more comfortable position while taking his underwear off. “It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

Scrambling quickly to rest on your hands and knees, you took his cock into one of your palms, slowly stroking him and smearing the drop of saliva you spat onto his dick, to make it easier for you to move your hand.

It was such an amazing sensation, your small hand struggling to wrap around his thick cock, fighting your own urge to pump him dry until he was whimpering and begging. Maybe another time you’ll be able to see that side of him, but tonight you were determined to make him cum in your mouth, and so deciding you wouldn’t waste a second longer, you took his red head in between your lips, rocking your head slowly to take more and more of his length. Little by little you were able to fit almost all of him inside your throat, choking a little bit when his tip reached a bit too far.

“Fuck, that feels amazing, baby. Keep going.” He moaned, looking down at you and the way his dick disappeared inside your mouth with ease. “Just like that, don’t you dare stop.”

Your pace increased, ripping moans and groans out of the boy. Your heart swelled with pride for making him sound and act like that; it took you way too long to be in such a position once again that you were fearing you didn’t have the same effect on him anymore.

“Faster, doll, I know you can go faster.” His hand weaved through your hair to get a hold on your head and guide your movements. “That’s right, fuck, your mouth was made only for my cock.”

It truly was, his dick fit almost perfectly and without further complications. The way you were so eager to take him in, without flinching or gagging was truly amazing for the man in front of you. Jungkook was mesmerized by your ability to suck him off until he didn’t have much to give.

“Shit, stay still for a moment.” He ordered, placing both hands at each side of your head. You did as told, waiting for his next move. “There you go, I want to fuck this pretty mouth of yours.”

His hips swayed beautifully, thrusting in and out of your throat. His cock was reaching places like never before and brought tears to your eyes due to the effort of keeping your jaw relaxed and opened for him.

“That’s it, such a good little slut, letting me use you, huh?” He teased, smirking right at you. “You like it when I use you like this, don’t ya?”

It was as clear as day that you did, no need for an answer, yet you tried to nod, which only caused to boost his ego due to how much you struggled to move.

“Mhm, I know you do, baby.” His pace increased and so did his moans; it was difficult for the tall guy to be quiet, especially with the delicious feeling of your mouth on his cock.

All of a sudden he pulled away, letting you recover your breath and positioning you to lay back down again.

“As much as I’d love to keep fucking your mouth, I’d rather stuff this pretty pussy with my cum.” Jungkook leaned down to suck on your neck, making sure to leave a mark on a very obvious spot, where everyone would be able to see it.

Feeling like you belonged to someone, like you were a nice piece of jewelry owned by a man like Jungkook, it should have caused you a very different feeling from the one you were experiencing. Your eyes shouldn’t be searching for him, impatiently, to see that look of determination in his orbs that would tell you that you belonged to him and him alone. Your hands shouldn’t reach out to touch his back, sinking your nails into his flesh just like his teeth did in your skin; a weak attempt to reciprocate the feeling, to make it clear who was the only girl who would make the great Jeon Jungkook so desperate and needy. But they did, and you enjoyed it; you loved the hiss coming from his mouth and the shiver coursing his body. You adored the way his eyes softened for a brief second, while looking right into yours and straight into your heart.

It was like a stroke to your ego, knowing it was you who he craved, who he needed. It was you, and it would continue to be you for a long time.

Jungkook finally pulled away from your neck, standing tall in front of you and guiding himself to slide up and down your folds, coating his cock with your juices. His tip was nudging at your clit every time he went up, making you gasp and shudder.

It was a torture, feeling him so close yet so far from your entrance, the worst part was that he enjoyed getting you like this; Jungkook loved toying with you. And it was so unfair how much the boy could make you crave his touch, but not give it to you.

“Just put it in, for fucks sake.” A frustrated groan abandoned your lips.

You couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. However, you didn’t think about the consequences of your words and how bad it would end for you for demanding such a thing.

Jungkook stopped all of his movements, slowly drifting his gaze up, to look right into your eyes. His gaze darkened, making you recoil in your place, while your legs started to close in anticipation of his next move.

Jeon moved to get close to your ear and whisper, “I’m gonna let it slide just because I’m as eager as you to fuck you dumb, but be careful with what you say, princess.” Slowly, he pulled away, to then harshly open your legs and slap your clit with his cock. “Turn around.” He ordered.

It took you a few seconds to register his words in your brain, but finally you did as told, albeit reluctantly, because you wanted to see and feel him from up close while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Don’t turn your face.” He caught you trying to look over your shoulder, guiding your head to look right into the pillow.

“But I wanna see you.” You whined, not fighting him anymore.

“Shoulda thought about it, before acting like a brat.” A slap was delivered to your ass cheek, making you flinch and whimper. “And be grateful I’m being nice enough to fuck you, despiste your nasty attitude.”

Jungkook positioned himself with your entrance, anticipating the tight grip of your warm walls.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quietly, in an attempt to make him relent and change positions.

“Too late for that, baby.” He chuckled while thrusting all the way into your tight cunt, not giving you time to argue any longer. “Fuck, this is heaven.” His head lolled back, placing both of his hands at each side of your hips to guide your movements.

“Oh my fucking god!” You exclaimed, feeling his veiny cock reach every crook of your insides.

Moans and whimpers were falling from your lips uncontrollably, due to how good Jungkook’s dick felt. He hasn’t moved yet since he thrusted in, but the sensation alone of being filled to the brim with his length was enough to make you see stars.

“Mo-Move.” You stuttered, trying to bounce back and create the much needed friction. “Please, move!”

Jungkook could only smirk, enjoying how vulnerable you were at the moment, completely at his mercy. He controlled your body and pleasure perfectly, knowing the spots and touches that would get you shuddering in pure bliss.

“Now you remember your manners, doll?” He grunted, slowly retrieving from inside your pussy, all the way out until your walls could only wrap around the tip. “How convenient.”

You wanted to argue and clap back, but it was impossible to form a coherent thought while being tortured like that. Jungkook didn’t care that he was also stopping himself from feeling the ridiculously amazing sensation of fucking into you, as long as he could teach you a lesson and make you regret your words and actions.

“Please, please, please.” You cried out, trying to move, but giving up after the tall man stopped you with a harsh smack. “Jungkook…”

The way you said his name made the guy feel some type of way, but still not enough to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You gotta ask me nicely, princess, and I might give it to you.”

He wanted you to ask nicely and ask nicely is what you did; gathering enough strength to softly utter the words, you tried to clear your throat to finally speak.

“Please, Kook, can you fuck me so good until I forget my name?” Such a sweet tone for such a lewd request. “I need you to fill me up with your cock, please.”

The tattooed guy leaned down, wrapping one of his strong arms around your neck while dipping down to whisper in your ear.

“Mmm, you sound so fucking pretty when you beg for me like that.” His gentle lips kissed up and down your jaw. “You did good, baby. I think you finally deserve it.”

Without previous warning, Jungkook thrusted all the way in again, filling you up to the brim, however, this time he didn’t torture you with a slow pace or any sort of teasing. Jeon didn’t waste a second longer and commenced to rapidly pound into you, until you could only whine and whimper.

His arm wrapped around your neck was slightly obstaculazing your breathing, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It felt immensely good to be fucked nice and hard while every single inch of Jungkook’s body was engulfing you.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby.” He moaned. “Clenching on my cock, so good.”

His free hand traveled down in between your legs to rub your clit, making you so sensitive and causing even more moans to fall from your lips.

“Sh-shit, oh god!” You exclaimed with a trembling voice. “So big… so deep.”

A chuckle rumbled from Jungkook’s chest. He has always loved how dirty you would get for him, speaking nonsense about his size and how good he fucks you. It was truly an ego boost.

“Yeah? You like how deep I go, baby?” He panted, due to all the effort he was putting into destroying you with his cock. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”

You could only nod, it was hard to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

“Look at you,” he laughed. “You can’t even talk.”

You couldn’t protest, couldn’t even move. The only thing you could do was relax and allow your body to enjoy the way Jungkook was so avidly thrusting into you. Your arms and legs were starting to give up, feeling too tired to keep your body up; you just wanted to lay down.

Jungkook could feel your exhaustion, and so he quickly unwrapped his arm from your neck, to then turn you around and get you in a comfortable position, all of this while still fucking you senseless.

“There you go, better?” He asked, genuinely concerned about your wellbeing.

“Mhm.” You hummed, closing your eyes while your hands fisted the sheets. “Don’t stop…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jungkook felt like dying with the way your walks were clenching on him. Your pussy felt heavenly, so warm and so tight only for his cock. He knew he had already ruined you for any other man you could possibly meet in your life —not like he’s gonna let that happen, anyway—, and he loved that fact. The dark-haired boy enjoyed how you would only crave him, need him, beg just for him. This side of you, no one knew, he was sure that not even your past boyfriends got to see you like this. So free, so dirty, so beautiful and tempting. It was only him, and Jungkook could only wish it continued to be like that for a long time.

Amidst Jungkook’s wandering thoughts, he didn’t realize you had opened your eyes once again, looking right into his own, with such a fierce stare. Your hands started a slow trip from his thighs up to his chest, caressing his honeyed skin which was glistening with sweat; shining just right under the moonlight. Your nails softly scratched his flesh, making the boy tremble under your touch and lean into your hands to feel more of you. It was getting to that point where he no longer held power or willingness to be dominant. Jeon was starting to lose himself in you, in the way your cunt was wrapped around his cock, in the way his length would poke your stomach because of how deep he was; in the way your mouth was softly calling for him, accompanied by obscene noises that he only loved hearing if the came from you.

“You look so fucking pretty, Y/n.” The lack of a pet name sent a warm hug to your heart. You knew he was being serious; no teasing, no mocking. Jungkook was speaking from his heart, completely enamored with the view of you; panting underneath him while your body welcomed his embrace so perfectly. “I could never get tired of looking at you, my pretty baby.”

There were not enough words in the English language that could help you express how grateful you were for having a man like Jungkook in your life. But perhaps there was no need, since you knew that showing it was always more effective than saying it.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to mesh his lips with yours. His swollen lips moved slowly and gently, a stark contrast to the way he was fucking you. His cock was wildly ramming into you, while his lips were softly caressing yours. His tongue quickly made its way inside your mouth, starting a fight with your own to assert dominance, nonetheless, it was futile, that fight was already won by him and you could only back down and enjoy his touch.

“I’m so close.” You moaned, wrapping both of your legs around his waist to make him go even deeper. “I need to— fuck, I need to cum.”

Jungkook shook his head, heavily breathing while gathering his thoughts to talk properly. The feeling of it all was making him feel dizzy.

“Just… Just wait a bit longer.” He ordered you.

You groaned, fluttering your eyes shut while trying your best to hold it until he told you to let go. It became a torture once again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to wait for too long, especially with the change in pace and how deep his cock was reaching. His tip was nudging at that sweet spot of yours, making your whole body stutter and whine so perfectly that it made Jungkook grunt into your neck.

“I’m almost there.” He announced, manically pounding into you. “Just a bit more, princess.”

“I don’t… I don’t think I can wait… anymore.” You cried out, fisting his hair while your hips were desperately moving on their own volition, searching for some sweet release. “I’m gonna cum.”

It was not a warning anymore, it was a fact. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, making your body tremble with the waves of your awaited release. Rather than holding yourself back, you finally let go, enjoying the sensations and pleasure your orgasm brought with itself.

Jungkook hissed at the way your pussy clenched on his dick, making it almost impossible for him to keep moving.

“Oh, fuck.” He cursed, looking down at where your bodies were joined, feeling a bit lightheaded from how good it felt. Your cum was coating his cock, making it shine so perfectly. “That’s my good girl, make a mess on my dick, come on.”

His encouraging words only made it even difficult for you to come down from your high, but the boy couldn’t care any less. Jungkook rejoiced in the feeling of pride for making you feel that way, to make you so vulnerable and weak that the intensity of your release would make you go dumb and turn you into a babbling mess. Not a single thought was behind those beautiful eyes of yours at that precise moment, and Jeon loved how lost you looked, reaching out in need of his comforting touch to ground yourself after such intense orgasm.

Your hands found his, intertwining your fingers to form a hard grip.

Jungkook kept fucking into you, desperately searching for his own release, not stopping for even a second to catch his breath. He needed to cum and needed it now.

“Can I cum inside you?” Jeon was so quick to ask when he felt his orgasm building up in the pit of his stomach. “Please… I wanna fill you up.”

It was such a different side of him. The whiny and needy side of him you loved so much. His begging got you weak in the knees and made your stomach flutter with adoration.

You nodded, gently caressing his face while kissing his lips once again.

“Look at me, please.” Jungkook begged so sweetly. “Keep your eyes on me, I need to see you.”

“Let go for me, baby.” You smiled up at him, staring right into his eyes, while noises full of passion echoed through the room.

His whiny moans rang in your ears, making you feel fuzzy inside.

“Fuck, so good.” He moaned, resting his forehead on yours, his eyes never looking away. “I love you, Y/n. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Kook.” You said, breathlessly, feeling his warm cum filling your already sore pussy. “Just like that, so good.”

Jungkook kept rocking into you until his legs couldn’t hold him up and he ended up crashing into you. His strong arms slowly wrapped themselves around your frame, keeping you close and safe. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, with his hot breath hitting against your skin. A stream of incoherent curses were coming out his mouth, making you giggle. Neither of you dared to speak for at least five minutes, silently deciding to enjoy each other while recovering from each of your intense orgasms.

It truly felt like heaven on earth, whether it was because of how long you two have been apart, or because of Jungkook’s amazing skills; whatever it was you felt amazing and finally complete. The missing piece of the puzzle was finally here, making your life ten times better and brighter.

Jungkook was the first one to break the silence, with his babbling and groaning.

“What was that?” You asked him to repeat himself.

“I said…” He sighed, pulling away from your neck. “I’m fucking spent.”

“Me too.” You giggled. “But it was worth it.”

“Damn right it was.”

Jungkook finally pulled out, watching his cum slowly flow out from your cunt. Two of his fingers gathered the liquid coming out of you and pushed it back inside, making you gasp in surprise.

“We can’t afford to waste any drop now, can we?” He smirked at you while his fingers danced slowly inside you. “You always feel so warm, baby, no wonder why I love your pussy so much.”

After a few seconds, Jungkook retrieved his fingers from inside of you and wrapped his pink lips around them, liking every drop of both of your cums.

“So sweet.”

A part of you wanted to push him to lay down and ride him until your legs couldn’t keep you still, but you were so tired and exhausted that even the idea of putting any effort into making Jungkook lay down made you groan.

“Come here, baby.” Jeon wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, making your head rest on his firm chest. “Let’s rest for a bit before I fuck you again.”

You hit him softly in his stomach, causing both of you to giggle.

“Just how much stamina you think I have?” You asked.

“Not so much, to be honest.” He joked. “But it’s bold of you to assume I would make you work for it a second time. I’m not that mean, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s what you want me to think.”

You looked up at him, only to realize Jungkook was already staring at you. His doe eyes were looking right into your own, making their easy way into your heart. Jungkook had a way to always make you feel special whenever he looked at you. He did it back when you two were nothing more than a quick fuck, and he did it now when your souls were finally intertwined.

“I meant it.” He started saying. “I really love you, Y/n.”

“I know, Kook.” You assured him. “And I love you too, just as much.”

A soft kiss was delivered to your forehead. “I just wanted to make it clear. I spent too much time hiding my real feelings that I’m scared you’ll get the wrong idea and feel like I’m not being honest enough.”

Your hand flew right up to rest on his cheek, caressing his cheekbone tenderly.

“I understand the sentiment, but there’s no need to hide from each other anymore. I can feel your love now, Jungkook, and it’s one of the most amazing sensations I’ve ever had.”

Your words helped the boy to feel at ease. Jungkook was on high alert for any discomfort he might cause you unwillingly; he feared you would simply leave his side if he such as said that your hands were starting to get cold. That kind of feeling was something you didn’t want the boy to experience and you were more than happy to reassure him over and over again that what he felt was not only reciprocated but it was also enough for the both of you.

“Let’s sleep a little bit, I’m too tired to even talk.” You snuggled into his side, hiding your face in the crook of his face while your arms wrapped around his torso.

Jungkook smiled fondly, looking down at your already sleepy figure.

“Rest well, princess.”

Taglist 🏷️

@aphrwodite, @r1r111, @cholychi, @artificialsuicid, @tatamicc

[babyleostuff]

call me back

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you

was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.

well - until last week. 

hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way. 

you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head. 

it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left. 

“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake. 

“i did but she’s not answering.” 

“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.” 

and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was. 

“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home. 

you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too. 

after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this. 

all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart. 

“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.” 

the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark. 

“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted. 

seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.” 

“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone. 

you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet. 

eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear. 

“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."

"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.

“can you shut up for one second?” 

“no, in fact i can’t.” 

“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.” 

“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-

there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?” 

“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"

loud and clear, honey. 

“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.” 

you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night. 

“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.” 

“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.” 

“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”

you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.” 

“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.

“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw

[thenightdance-if]

For many moons you have been escaping at night from the cold walls of the palace to a land of wonders through a magic mirror in your chambers. Every dawn you return, the soles of your shoes worn out from dancing and exploring, exhaustion set deep in your bones, however blissful.

Should you trust the perfect joy such a place has to offer? Or, better yet, the alluring heir that accompanies you each night? And how could you ever hide this idyllic escape from your father, the king, now that he has some lowborn knight on your tail?

♡ The Night Dance is an interactive story based on the Grimm Brothers’ tale, ‘The Twelve Dancing Princesses.’ Status: DEMO (TBA).

Customize your Main Character, referred to as The Cursed Heir. Pronouns, overall appearance, and personality (based on the choices made throughout the narrative).

Choose your romance. There are two possible romanceable characters in The Night Dance. You can romance each of them individually, opt for no romance at all, or cultivate a poly relationship.

Choose your destiny. Some choices can drastically change the course of the story. Upon revealing truths and unveiling secrets, will your heart or your mind speak for you?

The Night Dance is rated +18 for mature content, depictions of violence, depression, and eventual sexual themes.

Alistair ⋆ he/him or Alis ⋆ she/her. A lowborn knight making their way home. You don’t know why someone in their position would return after being knighted, or the reason why they took the challenge of unveiling your secret, but you know enough to be wary of them. Valiant, observant, and witty, they’re what anyone would picture when thinking of a knight. Except for the look of sadness that takes over their face whenever they think no one’s paying attention. [+ more]

Cianan ⋆ he/him or they/them. The mysterious dance partner you encounter every night. They have been there from the very first moment you stepped onto the grounds of this otherworldly land, offering their guidance and hand whenever you needed. Curt, cultured, and gentle, they remind you of princes you’ve read about in fairytales. But in fairytales, princes don’t keep their intentions unknown or hide obvious secrets behind tired eyes; it appears, after all, that nothing is as perfect as it seems. [+ more]

The idea for this IF came to me when I was playing @swansong-if, a lovely game that’s become one of my all-time favorites, so I’d definitely have to mention it here. I’d never think of adapting my favorite fairytale into an IF not for it. ♡

[littlemssam]

Since not everyone saw my latest Statement on Discord yesterday, I wanted to post it here as well, and I also want to clear a few things up.

For those who do not know what this is about, I made a post that I should not have, or at least I should have phrased it in a way where the meaning is clearer. The Post I made was "Since I was one of those that got tagged in there, I can just say that I will not partake in any Anti Israel Pro Hamas Propaganda, and I will most certainly not forget what Hamas did Oct 7th like a lot of these ppl seem to do." I now see that the way I phrased it made it seem like I feel that the attacks on Palestinian Civilians were/are justified, and that is not what I meant, and I am deeply sorry about that. Edit: To make it clear I am against the Israel Government and Netanyahu, just like I am against Hamas. I am pro ceasefire now.

On June 25th I had to face the consequences in my Discord. A lot of ppl came in and confronted me about it. When the first ppl joined and started the confrontation, I did knee jerked again and banned the first three of them, because one of them insulted me and wrote that the attack on Oct 7 was made up. There were a few follow up bans of ppl, who also insulted me, but I did not ban anyone on purpose because they are Pro Palestine. There were also some Posts deleted that should not have been. It was not done by me personally, but I was also not fast enough and clear minded enough to stop it and I could not undo it, so I apologise for that as well.

I locked the Server down in the End, because it was 3 am for me and I was, and still am, very overwhelmed and exhausted, and the Server will stay down for a while. This is the latest Statement I made, and I know it will not be enough for everyone and I respect that.

"I did not mean to seem to take a stance that seems like I am pro-Israel as if I believe this is all their land (a Zionist). I do not want to condone the violence happening in the country right now or pretend that Palestinian lives don't matter. It was never intended in what I said. I did not mean to phrase things in a way that make me seem to be against the problems palestinians are facing in Gaza. I inserted myself into something I don't know enough about or how to talk about in an educated way, so I should have better not said anything at all. I am sorry that I did. I do feel it is wrong that some people feel like what happened on October 7 is fake and I have already had people say it is. I have banned people who have said so while attacking me. That is wrong. Those people died and it's sad, so too it is sad the people who are dying over the military actions of Israel in attacking the groups who did this causing a loss of Palestinian life without considering who will be hurt. I am not a Zionist. I am just someone who felt sickened by what happened in the attacks last year and didn't like how I see some people pretending that is all a hoax."

[ghosts-to-reid]

A Tragedy for The Bard

Request: In which the reader is Spencer Reid's best friend for two years since he joined the BAU. The reader saw Spencer loving JJ, Lila and now a mysterious girl on the phone "Maeve" when one day Spencer introduces her to the team, they are all happy for him, the reader was very sad but wants Spencer to be happy with Maeve @shuichiakainx

A/N: I kinda changed the timeline of the friendship and the request a lil but i hope you enjoy still! Accidentally went off and wrote an entire novel so i hope you enjoy!

TW: Maeve arc spoilers, violence, suicide, stalking, bodily harm

ANGSTY

SPENCER REID REQUESTS OPEN!

Spencer Reid has been your best friend since you joined the FBI’s renowned BAU. He was sweet and kind, always attentive to your emotions, and showing he cared. He’d bring you coffee every morning, sit with you at lunch, and then, more often, than not, hang out with you through evenings; You never had set plans together, but the impromptu nature of your friendship is what made it exciting. After all, he was your best friend, things should be this easy with him.

Of course, having a crush on your best friend isn’t completely bizarre. The brain can get confused with chemicals and all, the attraction you have to Spencer is simply a bug in your brain that’ll balance out eventually…

That’s what you told yourself when you saw the pictures of Spencer and Lila in the pool. This was when you were both still fairly new, when he was a merely 23 and you were 25. Of course, he was already far more qualified than you were, and when you met, the fact you’d skipped 2 grades didn’t seem so impressive anymore… yet you couldn’t hold a grudge. The pair of you worked together amazingly, Derek and Elle often poked fun at you both when they over heard, quote “nerdy-ass nonsense” (Eloquently said, Agent Morgan) but you cherished those moments. Those moments were what made you fall for his mind first and foremost, the discussions, massively unorthodox hypotheticals, spirited debates, it was all so easy with him. Of course, you’d acknowledge that he’s attractive, very much so you thought. But you were co workers, so the tinge of jealousy you felt whenever Spencer and Lila interacted just had to be ignored.

The thing that stung the most was Spencer’s eagerness go to talk to you about their kiss.

The team had just wrapped up the Lila Archer case. You were all exhausted, of course, but you maybe more so than the rest of the team. Sitting alone with your head resting atop your fist, staring into space whilst the rest of the team settled into their seats. You barely notice Spencer sitting in the single seat across from you, speaking your name softly to get your attention. Eventually you notice, lifting your head, slowly blinking at him

“Hm?”

“I was just wondering if… if you had a chance to look through the case file yet…” his voice held a nervous edge as he fiddled with his cuffs. He was wondering if you saw him and Lila, making out, in a pool. You sure as hell had and you were desperately trying to hide your seething jealousy that you weren’t the one in that pool with him. However, you feigned negligence.

“No.” Shaking your head lightly, voice soft, you were emphasising your fatigue in an attempt to keep this interaction short “I’ve not had the time yet.”

He seemed slightly relieved, his shoulders were still tense as he leaned back in his seat, though. He seemed to be looking for an invitation to continue, but you weren’t going to give it to him yet.

“She kissed me…” he muttered quietly, his fingers seemingly becoming fascinating to him. The breath caught in your lungs for a second before you pulled your lips into a tight, albeit forced, smile.

“That’s great Spencer. I’m happy for you.” You speak softly and slowly, trying to convince both him and yourself that your statement was truth. He seemed convinced by the small smile on his face, a blush to his cheek. He opened his mouth to continue but you were interrupted by Gideon’s voice

“Y/N! Come over here a second.” Was all he said. Spencer looked at you confused, and you gave him a puzzled look back. Unsure of what Gideon wanted, you stood silently and made your way over to where he sat with Hotch. You slid in across from them, Gideon was reading the paper whilst Hotch had a pen in his hand, silently writing. Confusion was still lingering as you sat there for a moment before you saw the small smile on Hotchs face, and Gideon caught your eye, giving you a small wink befor returning to his paper. Unsure how to feel at the seemingly all knowing nature of the pair, who had assessed you needed an out, you rested back into your original position, head leaning against the window and you closed your eyes. Trying to ignore the sting in your chest as you try to sleep, ignoring the lingering image of the two that had somehow burned itself at the back of your eyelids.

Though still painful, your young heart broken by a simple kiss, it was of course nothing compared to the heart break that came 2 years later. The friendship that had started as close work companions had turned into you becoming best friends, to the pair of you being nearly inseparable. At this point, you were the dream team, you had learnt to shoulder your crush on the boy wonder. Of course, the teasing was still there, you were after all very close, but it didn’t make you flush the same rose as it had before. The same can be said for Spencer, who now just huffed at Dereks implications. Of course, people on the team were aware of your crush on Spencer, they were profilers. Yet they kept it to themselves, with the obvious exception of Derek.

It was a typical Saturday night for you and Spencer, as typical as possible when you’re not away on a case anyway. Both of you were sat on his couch, legs touching, your skin felt like it was on fire at the points where you both meet, yet you had long since learnt to ignore the warm feeling you felt at moments like these. It was late, really you should’ve gone home hours ago, Saturday had become Sunday hours ago, but the two of you had been caught up in conversation, a common occurrence between the two of you. Tonight, though, had been a night of deep conversations, psychological exploration of each others memories. The topic of crushes had come up, Spencer had opened up to you about what had happened to him in Highschool, and you comforted him. Then, you shared a story about how your diary was stolen, and the pages of embarrassing love poetry were printed and posted around your school. His way of comfort is to tell you how he’d think it was romantic, before rambling about the Shelley’s and Byron.

“Do you have a crush right now?” You asked sleepily, you were sleepily hopeful of a love confession but you weren’t counting on it. Spencer only saw you as a friend after all.

Spencer leans back on the couch, looking back up to you with half lidded eyes. He takes a moment to read your face, to look for any kind of malice or mischief, and when finding none, pulls his lips to a tight line.

“Kind of… I love someone.” Was all he said. It was clear that the sleep deprivation was acting like a truth serum on you both, and making you both bolder. Maybe not for the better…

You’d perked up slightly when he’d said the word ‘love’, hoping again, silently it was you. That, he’s finally, after 4 years of pining in your friendship, that he’d realised his feelings for you. You promoted him to continue, hoping for him to speak your name.

“JJ…” he was breathless

Again, that twisting pain hit you like a train. Your chest aches and your eyes suddenly felt very itchy. Spencer continues, as if he doesn’t need another print after seeing you enthusiasm.

“She’s just, so kind yanno? And I know that you’re probably thinking she’s too pretty or nice for me but, I don’t plan to act on it. I don’t want to destroy our friendship over this, but I've loved her for a while now. I love her laugh, her eyes. She’s so kind to everyone, you know?” He continues to ramble for a few minutes whilst you sit still, focusing most of your energy on not crying right now. Instead, the strength to interject conjures itself.

“That’s great Spencer. I’m happy you know how it feels to love someone, even under painful circumstances. Believe me, I know how you feel, I’ve been there.” You have his knee a reassuring squeeze before sluggishly attempting to stand, but Spencer grabs your wrist softly.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s late, Spencer… I need to go home.” Glancing at the clock, it read 5:07, the sun would be rising soon and you’d love nothing else but to cry in your own bed and sleep the Sunday away. He pulls you down to the couch once more before shifting to sit and face you.

“You don’t have to go, you can stay here tonight… I mean this morning…?” He looks at you with a tender gaze that makes your heart ache after his confession not even two moments ago. Ordinarily, you’d stay in his bed whilst he took the couch, an arrangement he absolutely insisted on, and you held little resistance to. Your main self control impulse was being kept in check from asking him to join you. If you hadn’t felt on the brink of breaking down in sobs, you wouldn’t have even thought about it. But tonight, you learned that not only Spencer’s love was unrequited, it was also no where near directed to you. Reality checks hurt, and are dealt with best in bed, in the dark. Therefore, the shake of your head takes him off guard as you silently move to put on your shoes. Spencer follows behind you

“I can’t stay tonight sorry Spencer, I said I’d take my grandma to church-“ a blantant lie, she lived in Texas. You hoped he didn’t know that. He shook his head though.

“I don’t want you to get a taxi at this time, why don’t you stay here and I’ll drive you tommorow?” He’s worried of course and you sigh. Shaking your head once more, why was he so caring? He was now rambling statistics about kidnappings and murders of women at this time of day, knowing his relentless efforts weren’t in vain as you were weak to his efforts. You gave into him.

“Fine! Fine…” you take a deep breath and rub your eyes, hoping he’s interpreting how red they are as sleep depravation, rather than the effort holding back a flood of tears. “I’ll just cancel tomorrow...” you lie again, quickly moving to his bedroom door, him in tow, not giving him the opportunity to reply as you flop onto the bed facing away from spencer. He watched you with a furrowed brow, but follows the regular routine you had both settled into when you stay. He grabs a pillow and a blanket, and presses a small kiss to your forehead before grabbed his book off of his nightstand. However, already heartbroken enough, you can’t handle that ‘friendly’ forehead kiss and so you purposely pulled the duvet over your head. However, it didn’t stop him from pressing a small kiss to the duvet, you could feel the bed dip where he leaned on the matress, of course he wouldn’t care about a stupid duvet.

10 minutes is how long you wait before you finally let out a quiet sob. Luckily, they’re mostly hushed by the thick duvet that’s still wrapped around your head, and you bring your hand up to muffle the rest of the sound as you cry over Spencer Reid. The smell of coffee and patchouli is thick on his duvet, a normal comfort contorted into a terror that spurs another soft cry. You stay like that until you fall asleep, where you end up sleeping till 3 pm.

You awake to a sandwich on the side table, accompanied by a glass of orange juice. Spencer left a note reading “JJ asked if I’d help her with something, be back before 4.” Ignoring the sandwich, you made as quick of an exit as you could. Unaware of the tears stains you had left in Reid’s pillow….

Of course, you eventually healed from that. Neither relationship had ever come to fruition after all. That is why now, after how ever many years of friendship, you were going to be bold. You were going to tell him how you really felt. In a moment of sentimentality, had bought a collection of various romantic era poetry, and wrote your own little addition asking him on a date, as a call back to that intimate night, and with hope to rewrite that memory for yourself. Nothing could go wrong, you and Spencer had be great, as great as you could be whilst dealing with psycho killers.

Arriving at the office, you had no time to drop the book off onto his desk. Hotch called the team into the conference room with a morose look, that made your face pale.

There, Spencer stood in front of the team, looking disheveled and sleep deprived was the last crack in the dam of emotion for you. He looked so small, so fragile. Not meeting anyone’s eye, speaking like he’s in a trance. He’s asking for the teams help.

Help to find his kidnapped girlfriend.

You could’ve been sick right then and there, and you actually almost were. The speed your stomach dropped at this new reveltaion was enough to make you excuse yourself, hand over your mnouth, face pale. Unsure if it was due to the shock, the heartbreak, the anxiety, or maybe a mix of all there, you excuse yourself from the room. Your heart aches that you left so suddenly, but you couldn’t help this obviously. The run to the ladies room was quick, as you burst into a stall. Vomiting was never elegant, and the same was so in work. After a few moments you cleaned the corners of your mouth with a tissue before leaning back and grabbing your phone from your pocket. A text from Emily on your screen

“You okay?”

Nope. I was going to confess my love in a very embarrassing way and admit that Reid admitting he had a girlfriend made you literally, throw up from... A shitstorm of emotions. Drafting a quick excuse, you send her a message back. Within a second of your message, another agent from a desk nearby had seen you running to the bathroom, and brought you your bag as an act of kindness. She thought you might not feel well and would want something and was gone as quickly as she arrived, wishing you well. Thankful for her kindness, you quickly cleaned yourself up before grabbing your phone once more.

You love Spencer. So, so much. So much that you can't, in good conscience, work this case without fear of conflict of intrest. But not wanting to share this, you decide that food poisioniong was a better excuse and head home, apologising to the team over text, and wishing them good luck. Of course, the team were pre occupied with finding Maeve, Garcia filled you in, so there wasn't much resistence to your absence.

The speed that events transpired, however, made you relieved that you hadn't dropped the book off on spencers desk this morning.

A few hours pass after the incident, you were sitting at home watching some mind numbing reality T V Show, trying to numb the heartbreak that ached within your core. You were a few seconds away from dissasociating when there was a knock to the door. Debating the practicality of ignoring it, you decide not to thinking that it was perhaps a member of the team. You were wrong however, when you open the door to a small brunette.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, I broke down outside and i was just wondering if I could use your phone to call roadside assitance? My phone literally just died!" She looked exhasberated, and exhausted. Taking pityyou nod and let her inside

"Sure, let me just grab it for you. You can wait in here." Turning your back on, you went to grab your phone from the sofa you had just been curled up on. Before you could take two steps, you felt a heavy weight at the back of your head.

Momentairly your vision turned black. Trying to regain your footing, you spin the meet the girl who was now holding the metalic decrative bowl that you palced your keys into. Before you could form another thought, she hit you once more. Finally knocking you out.

By the time you came to, you couldn't help but feel the hard pounding radiating through your skull. Your vision was blurry, only slightly making out some figures in front of you. One of your eyes couldn't open all the way either, as if stuck shut. Memory of your attack came back in bits, but you were unable to focus though. Definetly concussed to some degree. Slowly, you attempted to move your hand to your eye, only to discover that you were tied tightly to a chair.

After a few moments of your semi concious state, you could make out the voice of a woman in front of you.

"Y/N... Y/N wake up... Y/N?" A soft voice ushered you slowly out of you daze, and finally you focused on the woman. She was also tied up. She was brunette, with soft features that matched her voice. Weakly you aknowledged her

"Where... Where are we?"

"I... I dont know... But help is coming. I know that." You looked at her for a moment, trying to recognise her.

"How do you know my name?" Theres a resistance to your voice, though weak.

"Spencer's told me about you." She smiled, your stomach dropped.

"You're... You're Maeve?" Nodding in response, she began to speak before beiung cut off by the sudden apperance of the small brunette. She slamed the door shut before she entered. She began to bark demands, you learnt her name was Diane. She berated you about your feelings for spencer, teasing you and Maeve. Succesfully breaking your heart more.

Then, a buzzer sounded.

"Oh. Here he is now." Diane barked orders through the phone and slowly, Spencer came into view. Breath catching in your chest, you were unable to look at him, knowing he wasn't here for you. His arms up as Diane pointed her gun at him

"Im here now. We made a deal." His voice was broken. "Let them go."

"I will. But first i need you all to hear something." She reached to the table behind her, and procured a book. The very same book you had intended to give to Spencer just this morning.

"No. No that's nothing please-" You plead despertly, trying to convince the woman to have any modicum of mercy. Spencer glanced at you softly. Your beggign was interupted by Diane opening the books dedication page, that you had written a poem on

"The smell of coffee, and your furrowed brow, An instant smile that inspire, How could i ever hide my longing desire To place a kiss to that brow To fill your cup, and hold thy hand

Lounging and talking, for you do not know How dearly my love is rooted In your voice, your home, from my heart to yours Through danger, i'd die through strife i'll hold Through it all i shall hold thy hand

I'll read to you, if you'll read to me To be in your heart is a future i'd like to see So Spencer I ask, May I be yours, as you have been mine?" Diane recited. At this point, you were sobbing silently, unable to meet the gazee of anyone. Diane had a diabolical smile on her face as she teased all of you, feeling satisfied that you had been humiliated, she turned her attention to Maeve. Focusing your attention to dampen your sobs was your prioty right now. After all, Maeve wasn't the only girl here in danger.

In truth, you were foucinsing on anything other than Spencer's outpouring of love for Maeve.

Your attention was finally caught again when Diane grabbed Maeve, holding a gun to her head. Spencer pleaded for her life.

"Take me instead" He pleaded. Setting Diane off once more, in fury, holding the gun to both her and Maeves head.

You didn't expect ehr to pull the trigger.

You scremaed and tried to wiggle your way free from your constraints as the team rushed in. Spencer dropped to his knees, watching as the blood of both women combined, and slowly crept across the wooden floor. The team were in shock for a moment, before someone untied you. Quickly wisking you to an ambulance ready outside.

There were no words for the cocktail of emotions you felt. Apparently, according to Emily, Diane had decided to target you after discovering your closeness to Reid. She wanted to leave as much wreckage in her wake as possible. The team had been alerted to your dissapearance when Penelope had called you 34 times and you hadn't answered. She hacked into your doorbell camera and discovered the footage of Diane taking you, where Derek and Emily had discovered the struggle between you.

You had been assigned mandatory leave of 2 months and was thankful for the break.

A month and a half goes by wihtout a word from Spencer. Of course, you weren't surprised. After what had happened, you knew he would seclude himself. Normally, you'd would be there for him. But not now. It was imposssible for you with both the trauma of that night, and also the humiliation that your love confession was read by a psychopath who moments later, murdered his girlfriend.

You werent sure you'd ever be able to face him again.

Of course, heartbreak and trauma are never a good combonation. You had been neglecting yourself slightly, so dragging yourself to the shower felt like much more of a chore. Without dwelling on the past, the tried your best to focus on the song playing whilst you scrubbed your scalp, taking your agression out that way. When you eventually emerged from the bathroom, you put on a fresh set of pyjamas and made your way to the living room. Before you could sit, there was alight tapping on the door.

Since the incident, you were wary of unexpected visitors. Spencer would interject with a fact about PTSD and try to calm you down, but you try to shake off the thought. Instead, you do whatyou shouldve done that day, and open the phones app to look throguh the camera. There stood Spencer. Thinner, languid and visibly exhausted. A pang hit in your chest before you debated answering. Giving in though, chest hurting more at the thought of him ebing alone right now in this state.

Gingerly, you unlock the various locks you had had installed, and open the door slightly, only peeking your head out of the small gap.

"Spencer?" He looked up slowly, eyes meeting yours. His eyes were dull and red from the amount of tears you were sure he ahd shed.

"Can i come in?" His voice was weaker than youd imagined, but you stepped to the side. Once more pushing aside any of your own feelings inf avour of his, as usual.

He made his way to his usual spot on the couch, you sit on the further end, unsure where you stood with him anymore. As you sat, his eyes met yours in confusion, usually youd be sat right next to him. "Are you okay?" It seemd a silly question from him, given the current situation. All you did was nod silently in response, pulling your knees to your chin. There was a few moments of silence before Spencer toutched your arm, making you look over to meet his pleading gaze.

"Im sorry..." Was all he said. Without realising, you let out the tears you had been holding, you shook off his hand so that you coulkd wipe your eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." You didn't want to have this conversation. "You didn't know."

"But-"

"You didn't know. And it doesn't matter." Your voice was more forceful than intended. This isn't a discussion you wanted to have. Not now. Not after Maeve, you weren't an emotional rebound. You weren't going to fill the void of Maeve in his heart.

"You're my friend. I was being innaprpiate im sorry. It was silly."

Spencer has a pensive look on his face, his brow furrowed but lip wobbling in an attempt to surpess your rejection.

"Y/N no, no we aren't avoiding this..." He spoke tearfully "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because there was always someone else!" You surprised yourself at your outburst. Clamping a shocked hand on your mouth you tried to hold back a loud sob. Spencer was stunned

"Someone... else?" He was confused, obviously. He never considered himself an avid dater, and you only knew about maeve fr a day before...

Plucking up any modicum of courage you had, you took a deep breath.

"Lila Archer. JJ. And..." You didn't want to speak her name, but the absence didn't dull the obvious pang to spencers heart.

"But. But they were years apart... I dont understand?"

"It takes courage spencer... And when that courage is destroyed, it takes time to build up once more..." Staring at a spot on the rug, you began absent mindendly picking at your nails, a habit you had when anxious.

Spencer noticed this and grabbed your hands to stop you. A gesture that would have comfoted you before, but now makes you jump. He holds them tightly between his and pulls you to face him.

His eyes were still pfilled with despair for Maeve but, he looked at you so, so softly. So gently that you felt your heart flutter like it did only 2 months ago.

"I wish you told me..." His voice broke, tears spilling from eyes slowly. Reanimating your own tears you begin to shake your head, pulling your hands from his and standing, walking away from him.

"No spencer... No not now... We can't." You sob. folding your arms, avoiding his stare.

He stands and rushes to your side grabbing your shoulders, making you meet his gaze once more.

"Why?" he begs "Why can't we?" His voice is broken once more "I love you, please. I love you too!"

Breaking from his hold you walk away from him once more, towards your front door.

"It isn't right Spencer..." You mutter softly "Not by you, or me... Or Maeve..." Reaching for the door handle, you take another shakey breath before pulling your front door open. "I think it's best you leave."

Spencer is silent, pleading with you to change your mind. He doesn't say a word though, simply wipes his eyes before silently walking through your door. Giving you one last despearte look before you force yourself to close the door behind him.

The rest of your leave was spent heartbroken, sobbing alone in your bed.

[mdsbabygirl]

“I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN AND I'LL FOLLOW YOU UNTIL YOU LOVE ME”

HANMA SHUJI X F!READER

Synopsis: you didn't think that rejecting your biggest fan Hanma Shuji could spiral into him kidnapping you and making you his.

Wc: 4k

Cw: reader is a famous influencer, vulgar language, heavy smut, dark contents: kidnapping, drug use, violence, mentions of stalking, degradation, Hanma is a psycho yandere, uses of pet names (doll/ sweetheart/doll face), hard sex, spanking, clit play, nipple play, fingering, missionary, doggy, creampie, etc...

Note: this is my first time writing smut after a long hiatus so feel free to give advice!

"Wake up .. wake up doll face!" You faintly heard a man's voice say, as you struggled to open your eyes. Your body felt extremely heavy and tired, to the point that even breathing was way too exhausting.

You felt a few nudges on your shoulder that managed to stir you awake from your drugged state, finally getting the strength to open your eyes and blink a few times to adjust your vision to the lighting. "Took you long enough to wake up, pretty doll!" You heard the same voice say, chuckling.

You turned your head to look at the source of the sound and you finally saw him..Your kidnapper.. A tall, muscular man with raven-black hair adorned with blonde streaks,  amber-flecked eyes that seemed to penetrate your very soul, chiseled hands, covered in black ink tattoos, sat on a chair beside you..   

You attempt to move but find yourself incapacitated, wrists chained to the bed. Disoriented and confused, you mumblingly ask, "Where am I?" Hearing an unnerving metallic click, you look down to find your wrists bound.

you start to get anxious, nervously pulling your arm, trying to free yourself from the restraints your kidnapper had put on you... Hanma chuckled, finding your reaction rather silly and cute.

His hand reached to grab your wrist, stopping your movements, "ah ah! You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing that!" He cooed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your wrist, as if trying to soothe the pain.

you scowled looking at this deranged man pretending to care for you after kidnapping you.. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" You shouted, desperately trying to put some distance between the both of you, but to no avail..

he giggled, shaking his head, as his hand grabbed a strand of your silky hair and swirled it around his slender finger. "When will you learn that you can't get away from me, hm? Why did you have to make me go to such lengths to make you understand it?" He asked , leaning his head forward  making you face the other way.

He clicked his tongue,  grabbing your chin w his punishment tattooed hand, forcefully making you look at him.. "doll face.. why won't you just accept it? You're mine..you've always been mine, and you always will!" He added, a sly grin appearing on his face, as he caressed your soft cheek. "YOU'RE A SICK MAN! WHO TF EVEN ARE YOU TO SAY SUCH THINGS TO ME?" You yelled at him, tears welling up in your eyes, as the overwhelming emotions of fear and rage collided within you.

Hanma's eyebrows shot up, feeling a bit startled from your reaction. Did his doll face really forget him that easily? Was his love not enough for you to remember him?

"You hurt me sweetheart! You really do!" He said, his psycho smile replaced by a small pout, as his grip on your face tightened, "how could you forget me so easily?!" He asked in disbelief,"thinking I've done so much for you! supported you when no one had, sent you gifts, gave you the attention you deserved, even confessed my love for you!" He nervously listed, recounting his numerous attempts of showing you his twisted affection, amid sadness, denial and a tinge of anger.

Horror washes over you as your mind is racing, finally connecting the dots.. your kidnapper.. he.. he was your stalker!! Past memories came rushing through your brain, images of him sitting at the back of all your social events, the numerous spam likes and comments left on all your posts, the myriad of calls and dms he'd send, all those suspicious love letters and expensive gifts at your doorstep, and yesterday's sick love confession at your latest event, made you recognize your capturer's true identity.

That twisted grin of his made its way back to his features, a sinful glint in his eyes, "I see you finally remember me now doll face!" He spoke, his voice tinged with deranged delight as he took a strand of your soft hair and swirled it around his slender finger. "You look so gorgeous, doll" he cooed, tilting his head as he admired your helpless state, his eyes brimming with wicked affection. He leaned down to press a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, a strangely gentle gesture that clashed with his twisted actions.

He leaned back in his chair and opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a pack of your favorite snacks. He opened it and took a piece out, chuckling as he recalled overhearing you mention them to a friend when he'd been following you around.

"you know, I gotta admit you really have good taste doll! This snack is very delicious!" He said cheerfully, biting it before he brought the rest to your mouth, and asked w a smile on his face "you hungry?" You looked at him in shock, how could he act so calmly as if he didn't just deprive you of your freedom, treating you with such kindness that betrayed his twisted actions?

You glared at Hanma with pure hate and disgust, wondering how a person can be so sick to their core. "I'm not hungry!" You retort, your voice laced with rage as you look down at the mattress... "Are you sure?" He asks again, pressing the piece of food to your lips "you might need some energy for later!" He said, his voice tinged with sin as his eyes twinkled in lust..

your mind raced with the possible implications of his words, anxiety and fear washing over you, making your body quiver "I said I don't want any!" You reply sternly, looking away from him.

Hanma sighed, putting down the pack of snacks, before he pulled out a small vial from his pocket and twisted the cap off. "IG we'll start right away then!" He spoke, an emotionless expression plastered on his face as he harshly grabbed your face, forcing your mouth open, and pouring in that clear liquid before he quickly muffled your mouth and nose, forcing you to swallow the potent aphrodisiac.

Tears started rolling down your cheeks, as you felt the drug go down your throat and into your system, fogging your mind and making you more vulnerable than you already were. "What.. what did you give me?" You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to move and think straight. "Hmm? Oh it's just something to make you feel good!" He replied, his voice tinged with greed as his tatted hands grabbed your breasts, groping them, making you gasp loudly.

"It shouldn't take long before the effects start showing up!" He added, a sly grin appearing on his face.

His head quickly found its way to the crook of your neck, biting the soft flesh so that it left a purplish mark. He chuckled lowly, "you belong to me now! I can finally do you as I please" he spoke in a sultry tone, his breath feeling hot against your feverish skin.

You tried to push him away but the drug had already weakened your body, reducing you to putty in his hands.. your intoxicated state made you enjoy his teasing , betraying your want for escape.

He laughed at you, mocking your miserable attempts of getting away from him, "you're so pathetic, sweetheart! Just accept it!" He spoke teasingly,  as he lifted his head to meet yours, his lips ghosting over yours, "just admit that you crave me as much as I crave you!" He added, this time w a huskier tone, before your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss.

The touch of your mouths sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal washing over you. Hanma's lips were soft and gentle, yet firm and commanding. His tongue seeked entrance in your hot mouth, brushing over your lower lip, making you gasp softly and slightly pull away.

His hand swiftly grabbed the nape of your neck, tangling into your hair and keeping you in place. "Don't try to fight it y/n.. just kiss me!" He whispered lowly, his seductive voice sending a jolt of tingles to your core that made the wet spot on your panties get bigger and bigger. Your drugged body obeyed to his lustful requests, opening your mouth for him, eagerly welcoming his tongue in, to which he grinned proudly.

Your tongues met, dancing a slow, sensual tango. Hanma's other hand cradled your face, pulling you closer, as your kiss deepened, feeling the intensity building between you, the raw, primal need that drove you both.

His kisses trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a delicate, erotic way. You let out soft moans, your body trembling under his touch. The line between captor and captive blurred, as the intensity of your connection grew.

He planted kisses on your soft skin, leaving behind love bites and hickeys in a mixture of red and purple marks. Each time he applied too much pressure with a bite or suck, he always soothed the pain by licking and gently kissing the spot. After all, he didn't want to cause his precious doll any real pain - he loved you too dearly.

Hanma lifted his gaze, his cock throbbing from the sight of your flushed state, panting heavily.So He  took this as a sign to proceed with his twisted plans. His tatted hands quickly made their way to your body, pulling down the straps of your dress and exposing your chest to his lust filled eyes..

Your cheeks blushed even more as you felt his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples already perked up from the drug. "Damn doll face! Your nipples hardened already?" He mocked you, his chuckles echoing through the room.

You felt humiliated, not only were you at the mercy of your psycho stalker, but that damn aphrodisiac was making his twisted actions feel incredibly pleasurable..

you panted, as his long fingers toyed with your nipples, pinching and squeezing them as he pleased.. "oh come on sweetheart, can't you give ne some better reactions?" He inquired, taking your left nipple between his thumb and index finger, twisting it hard just to get a reaction outta you.. that surely made you moan loudly, which made him laugh.. "that's what I wanna hear doll face!" He said as he kept groping your tits, his dick getting harder and harder by each passing second.

your moans were filling the room, and your body was growing hotter w each passing second, your panties soaking up further.

Every suckle, every flick of his tongue on your hard nub, every twist of his long fingers, sent a jolt of pleasure cursing through you, making you arch your back into his mouth, to which he grinned in satisfaction. He finally got you.

You instinctively started grinding your hips on the mattress, desperately looking for some friction to ease the tension you were feeling between your pretty legs.

Hanma quickly caught up to your actions, stopping his ministrations before he grabbed your hip, tightly squeezing the flesh to make you stop your movements "what are you doing?" He asked in a stern way, almost as if he was mad you were so needy for him.

"I.. I..nothing!" You managed to mumble, your mind way too fogged from the potent drug to even form a coherent sentence, the only thought in your lust filled mind was getting off to him.. quick.

"Nothing? Looked like you were being a needy little slut grinding like that on my bed" He replied in a low degrading tone.

Your breath hitched as you felt a sharp sting on your skin and a slapping sound echoed through the walls... Did he just spank you? You were too high to even comprehend what wicked things he was doing to you, but that sharp pain surely did feel pleasurable.

A high pitched moan left your plush lips, as you felt another spank on your hip, making your body jolt. Hanma quickly grabbed you by the face again looking at your hazed state. He chuckled lowly as he admired all his hard work, adoring the girl he so much longer for.

Your teary eyes met his greedy ones, needy gaze falling on his grinning face, mentally begging him to fuck you already, to completely ravish you  until there was nothing left... His sick smile widened further, as his pants became impossibly tighter, his dick aching for some kind of attention.

"Hanma.. please fuck me! Please fuck me already I can't take it anymore!" You whine, eagerly taking his hand and putting it between your legs, making him feel the pool of wetness dripping out of your needy pussy.. 

Your action took him a bit by surprise, although he wasn't the least bit bothered, he was actually very pleased. "Aww, my little dolly whore wants my attention hmm?" He cooed, the fingers of his sin tatted hand lightly grazing your clothed cunt, teasing you on purpose, just for the fun of seeing you buckle your hips into his touch.

"Please Hanma.. I need you! Please!" You cry out, begging for him to take you then and there, to ruin you like the good little slut you are. He chuckled, who thought those damn aphrodisiacs were so useful? He thought to himself before he ripped the nightgown from your body, leaving you almost bare In front of him, if it wasn't for your soaked panties that he quickly ripped off  too. "Now we're Talking!" He said in a sultry voice, as he admired your naked body before him, so beautiful, so gorgeous, all for him to enjoy..

he always had this reaction when he saw you naked, it's almost as if it was his first time—which obviously wasn't he saw you naked before many times but you never knew you had hidden cameras in your house— seeing you so vulnerable like this, made his cock throb in anticipation and his mind flood with the images of him pumping his hard dick in and out of you until you couldn't think walk anymore.

He pushed you onto the bed, falling on your back, as you looked at his undressing form, the sight of his toned chest and abs sending tingles of excitement to your throbbing clit.. you breathed shakily, reaching out to touch his chest but unable to do so from the chains that restrained you..

Hanma laughed at your actions, finding them cute, "look at you! You're so far gone you're willing to touch your kidnapper! Such a horny slut I got here!" He spoke mockingly, leaning in to press his lips onto yours, capturing them in a fiery kiss, full of lust. Your mouth greedily welcomed his tongue in, your wet muscle swirling around his and engaging in a sinful dance that sent shivers down both of your spines.

He pulled away looking at you intensely "if I take that chain off of your hand, do you promise me you'll be a good girl and obey everything I say?" He whispered lowly, his gaze so intense he could burn holes into your skull..

You eagerly nodded, feeling excited about the idea of being freed—partially— from his restraints.

He smirked, quickly opening the locks on your chains and letting your hand fall beside you. Before you could even think about moving it, you felt both of your wrists get held over your head, restricting your movements once again. You gasp at the sudden action, looking at a grinning Hanma who simply said "well... At least my hands won't hurt as much as the chains!" Before he leaned in close, his lips meeting yours in a forceful kiss, stealing your breath, and asserting his control.

The taste of your lips, slick with saliva, only fueled his desire. Hanma's free hand traveled down your body, his fingertips finding your moist, quivering entrance. Gently, but assertively, he began to stroke you, your moans muffled by his own mouth.

As his fingers danced against your throbbing clit, your hips instinctively bucked, craving more. Hanma broke the kiss for a moment, whispering in your ear, "You're going to enjoy every second of this, no matter how it started."

He kissed your neck, biting down softly, sending shivers down your spine. The kidnapper continued to tease you, his thumb flicking back and forth against your swollen clit. You squirmed under his touch, yearning for more.

He slid one finger inside you, curling it, before adding another. The stretch of his long fingers making you gasp loudly,  arching your back , and fluttering your eyelids shut as you felt pleasure curse through your body, sending sparks of pure Bliss through your nerves. He began to finger you in earnest, his touch firm and precise.

As your orgasm neared, Hanma suddenly removed his fingers, leaving you wanting and confused. His voice, a smug whisper in your ear, told you, "No, darling, you won't cum on my fingers. You'll cum on my dick."

He quickly repositioned himself, his erect cock sliding into your slick, waiting entrance. The sudden intrusion caused you to gasp, but it wasn't in discomfort. Hanma began to move, his powerful thrusts matching the intensity of your desires.

As he rammed into you, your moans grew louder, a crescendo of your arousal. You could feel the edge of your climax, and with each thrust, Hanma's cock brushed against that gummy spot inside you, teasing you even further.

In a frenzy, he grabbed you by the jaw, and your lips met in a fierce, passionate kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as you reached the precipice of an earth-shattering orgasm. Just as it crested, Hanma held you even tighter, forcing you to endure the pleasure without release.

"Not yet," he growled into your ear. "I'll let you cum when I'm ready.."

Your kidnapper continued to ravage you, his need for control in every movement, every thrust. Your body quivered, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to burst, as Hanma held you on the edge, denying your release.

It was too much, way too much! The pleasure was way too intense you couldn't stop yourself from cumming, your arousal juices oozing out of your abused hole, squeezing around his throbbing length making him reach his climax too, involuntarily forcing him to join you in your twisted pleasure, and to spill his thick semen inside you, pumping you full of his cum—just like he imagined — even tho he explicitly told you not to do so, yet..

You felt his thrusts become faster than before, his moans louder and filthier echoing through the walls of the room, "unghh.. ahhh shit, fuck! Fuck you, you little slut! I told you not to fucking make me cum didn't I?" He shouted at you in between moans, his fucked out state preventing him from fully focusing on you—which is considered good luck— and scold you further.

His pace became even harsher than before, his thrusts hitting so deep inside you you think he could bruise your cervix. He didn't care if he was overstimulating himself, he didn't want this to end, he wanted.. no he needed to keep going..

You felt a painful spank on your butt, followed by a harsh thrust that made you scream so loud, then another spank followed by yet another hard thrust of his, "you filthy little slut, how dare you disobey me?" Thrust. "Answer me!" Thrust. "Who gave you permission to cum?" Spank.

You cried out, feeling so overwhelmed by the intense feelings you were experiencing, taunting pleasure mixed with blissful pain.. a powerful combo that made your body shake uncontrollably, and scream so erotically loud, even the sluttiest pornstars would be jealous of you..

"No one" he growled, "no one gave you permission to be a lil bitch and cum unannounced on my dick!" He spat out, "I'm gonna have to punish you!" He said huskily before he pulled out, and flipped your weak body, so that your perky butt was on full display for him. "Now doll face, I'm gonna teach you what being a little slut does to pretty girls like you ok?" He spoke in a stern tone, his punishment tattooed hand harshly slapping your already reddened skin..

you whined, your body jolting from the intensity of his slap.. it hurt.. it hurt so much but it felt so goddamn good in that blissful state of yours. His large palm made contact once more with your freshly bruised skin, the slapping sound echoing through the walls.

You tried getting away from his harsh touch, gathering all the strength left in your weak quivering body, to crawl away from Hanma, but he was quicker than you, stronger than you. He forcefully grabbed you by the hips, and shoved his cock back inside your slippery hole, the sudden fullness making you scream, gasping for air.

"That's what happens when.. unghh.. pretty dolls don't obey their masters" he muttered through gritted teeth, trying his best not to moan as loud as you,  the endless squeezes of your overstimulated cunt feeling so heavenly on his throbbing cock.

His rhythm was harsh; deep thrusts hitting all the way up your cervix, his hard length rearranging your insides as it pleases. His tatted hands were tightly gripping the flesh of your hips, bruising it with how much he was squeezing.

He still didn't recover from the earth shattering orgasm he just had, which made him more sensitive than he wanted to be. Hanma wanted this sinful  moment to last forever, he needed to have you under him, moaning like a slut as you got your pussy pounded by him. That's the only thing he'd need.. he craved you for so long and thinking he finally got you like this felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

Hanma pounded into you with animalistic fury. Your bodies collided in a ferocious, primal dance, as your ass bounced with each of his thrusts, already raw and bruised from the countless spanks.

His tatted hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving dark imprints as he ravaged you. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his grunts grew louder and more frenzied.

Finally, he could hold back no longer. With a deep, guttural groan, he unleashed his hot, thick cum inside you, filling her completely. His seed spilled into you, an endless fountain of his desire, as his cock pulsed with each powerful thrust.

Hanma continued to ravage you, his relentless pace forcing you to the very edge of  endurance. When he finally collapsed against you, panting heavily, your body shook with spent, trembling pleasure.

Slowly, he pulled out, gathering the sticky remnants of his lustful passion with his long, slender fingers. He then presented his prize to you, smearing the cum across your lips. In a possessive whisper, he said, "I'm gonna have so much fun with you, my little cumslut!"

With that, he pulled you to your feet, your legs wobbly and unsteady. He guided you to a nearby chair and, with a wicked grin, said, "Now, you can clean up your mess, doll face" watching you with a predatory glee as he imagined how he'd push his throbbing length up your tight throat.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

©2024ᴍᴅꜱʙᴀʙʏɢɪʀʟ, ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

[willieverseetheland]

flipside ch. 1

Dexter Morgan x PI!reader

based on this ask!

Summary: You're a private investigator hired to look into Dexter Morgan on suspicion of infidelity, but you uncover something much darker. Warnings: None for this chapter, but typical Dexter warnings in the future (death, violence, blood, etc)

"Are you gonna hurt me now Or are you gonna hurt me later?"

You took this job for a bit of quick cash; infidelity investigations are always fast and easy, but not this one. This one would lead you down a path you would never return from. You got in far too deep this time.

///

Sunlight beams through the sunroof of your car, it's a cool spring day in Miami. You moved here five years ago from Baltimore, Maryland. Although, you grew up around the ocean, everything about Florida is drastically different. You don't complain though, the weather is a dream compared to back home. You were a cop, a good cop, even reaching detective. After everything happened, it just didn't make sense to continue, as if everything was the same. So, you moved to Miami for a fresh start. You weren't really sure about being a cop again, it just didn't feel correct. But you missed the detective work, the investigating. Being a private investigator just made sense. Life has been good to you. You have a steady job, one that you're actually quite good at. You were scared you would never be good at anything again. You scan your surroundings, it's a nice, peaceful neighborhood. Parked in front of a small, yet cute little house, you're here to interview your new client. You're not hesitating because you're scared, you're hesitating because clients in her particular predicament tend to be very emotional, something you've never been too good with. You understand, of course. Cheating is a horrible thing, but comforting people has just never been in your skillset.

You exit your vehicle and make your way to the door, knocking firmly. A bright-eyed blonde-haired woman opens the door. She's gorgeous you can't help but think, who could possibly be unfaithful to her? She motions for you to step inside.

"I just want to thank you for coming, it's been really hard" she gives you a small smile, but you detect a hint of sadness behind it

"Of course, happy to help" you say, forcing a smile in return

"Well, I guess I should introduce myself. Rita Bennett" she outstretches her hand for a handshake

"Y/N L/N, private investigator" you reach out, enveloping her hand in a firm shake

She walks over to the kitchen table and has a seat, beckoning for you to follow. You sit across from her, resting your elbows on the table and interlocking your fingers.

"So, Rita, I understand that you hired me to investigate your boyfriend for infidelity. Could you tell me some details about that?"

"He's in recovery, for drugs, and his sponsor is a woman. I know that men and woman can have relationships that aren't sexual, but he's been acting suspicious. He's out all hours of the night, he hardly calls me, he spends most of his free time with her. I know they could just be doing step work, but can you blame me for being suspicious?" she sounds exhausted, like she's been struggling with this for a while with no one to talk to.

"Well, those are definitely typical signs of cheating. Could you provide some details about him, so I know who to look for, and possibly a photo as well?"

"Of course, his name is Dexter Morgan. He's a blood spatter analyst at Miami Metro Police Department. He drives a blueish gray Ford Escape. Here's a photo" She slides a picture across the table, it's the two of them together, they look happy. You analyze the photo, studying his features, trying to burn them in your mind.

"What about his suspected mistress, could you tell me some things about her?"

"I don't know much; I've only seen her a few times. She has black hair, dark eyes, probably about 5'6 or 5'7, slender, pale. Beautiful. Pretty much the opposite of me." She looks down, you can see the hurt in her eyes.

"But I don't know where she lives or what she does for work, sorry" She looks up to face you, a single tear falling down her cheek.

"Um, that's okay, you've told me enough to identify her. Thank you." you give her a somewhat pained smile; you'll admit you're feeling a bit uncomfortable now that the waterworks have started.

You stand up, reaching out to give her another handshake.

"I'll get on it immediately. I'll figure this out, I promise." you give her an assuring look

...

You decide your first move should be to go to his place of work. You set up in the parking lot, further from the rest of the cars but close enough to get a good view. You scan the lot, looking for his car. You spot it, now all you have to do is wait. It's only noon so you're gonna be here awhile. You pass the time by reading, snacking, and pondering your existence. You hear a car alarm chirp causing you to look up. It's Dexter in the flesh, getting into his car. It's go time.

You follow him, as discreetly as possible. He leads you to an apartment complex. You park a few rows away, again trying to be discreet. You watch him walk to apartment #10B. He unlocks the door and walks right in. You sigh. Must be his apartment. You debate whether you should wait and watch or if you should turn in for the day.

You remember what you're being paid for and decide to stay.

...

You wake up hours later, it's dark out now. You must've fallen asleep. You look for Dexter's vehicle but can't find it, he must've left.

"Fuck!" you exclaim, how could you have let this happen?

You get the idea to snoop around his apartment. You know it's probably locked but maybe you could look through the windows. It likely won't lead to anything but you figure you have to try something. Taking your camera, you head to his unit. Looking through the windows you don't see much, the lights are off so it's hard to see much of anything. It's clean at least, and well decorated. A bit rare for a man you think. As you're looking through the windows you see headlights shining from behind you, turning around to see Dexter's car pulling into the parking lot.

"Oh shit!" you shout while ducking down. You run to the other side of the balcony and hide around a corner. As Dexter is walking up the stairs you notice he looks a little disheveled. His hair is a mess and he's sweaty. That could be something you think. You pull out your camera and snap a few photos. The lighting is horrible right now, but you have to work with what you have. You sneak back to your car, praying he doesn't see you. You know these pictures don't prove anything but they're a step in the right direction. You decide to turn in for the night, hoping you'll find more tomorrow.

...

You wake up bright and early the next morning to get a head start. From what Rita has described, Dexter seems pretty dedicated to his job so it's not likely that much will happen before or during the workday. However, maybe you could catch him on his lunch break. Would be a perfect time to pay his side piece a visit. You grab a coffee and head over to Miami Metro PD. At around 11:40 you see Dexter exit the building. He gets in his car and you're tailing him yet again. He stops at a diner; you make sure to park a few spaces behind him as not to draw attention to yourself. He sits outside, perfect. You watch him closely with your camera ready. He sits in solitude for a few minutes, but wouldn't you know it, soon a slender dark-haired woman comes to join him. You grab your camera, watching very intently. Waiting for him to slip up, get too comfortable. They seem to be having a pretty serious conversation, looking into each other's faces with emotion. The dark-haired woman reaches out and grabs Dexter's hand and Dexter places his on top of hers in return. You take quite a few photos of this, but it's not incriminating enough. You need something more. You continue watching them for a while, but much to your annoyance, nothing else happens. The two depart and Dexter returns to work.

Instead of sitting at his work waiting for him, you decide to watch his apartment. Maybe the woman will swing by, if she has a key then that will obviously be suspicious. You watch his apartment for hours but again come up with nothing. It'll be dark soon and Dexter hasn't pulled in yet. He could just be busy with something completely innocent, but it could be more. You drive by the police department to see if his vehicle is still there, it's not. You call Rita to ask if he's there and she says no. It's probably a lost cause but you really need a lead. You need to find something.

It's not that you want him to be cheating, that would be horrible for Rita, but you hate coming up empty handed. It makes you feel like an inadequate detective. You swing back by his apartment and he's still not there. Nothing else for you to do but wait. At around 2:00 am he finally shows up. Pretty late for a blood spatter analyst. He's wearing a different outfit than earlier, which could be a coincidence sure, but he's also carrying a large black duffle bag. You pull out your camera and take as many pictures as you can. Again, it could be nothing, but the circumstances are definitely weird.

Introductory chapter for this miniseries im doing based on a recent ask! I'm not sure where this is going to go but i'm excited! Also yes, the title is inspired by miss lana herself, the song was stuck in my head and i couldn't resist. I'll tie it in i swear!

[talkbycolor]

I deserve this

A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs

Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)

CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate

It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.

Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?

Because you had dreams, of course.

…

Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?

But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.

And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.

Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.

You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.

"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.

But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.

You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.

And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.

"Dear?"

Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.

It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?

"Love? Do you hear me?"

It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.

And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.

"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.

"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?

"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.

"Peter-…"

"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.

"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.

He kidnapped you.

And you couldn't even thank him for it.

He knocked you out.

You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?

He locked you up.

You wanted to return the signs of affection.

Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.

Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.

"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.

So it continued.

For a long time.

"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.

"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.

You know that's wrong, you don't like it.

You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.

You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.

It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.

His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.

It doesn't matter.

B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.

"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.

What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.

Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.

"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.

You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.

When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.

"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"

"Peter"

"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.

"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.

"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."

♡

[randomdragonfires]

Time Can't Stop Me Quite Like You Did - Part Four, An Interlude

Text divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | The music blares and everyone’s out of it, but she turns and sees him. Detached from it all, Aemond stands on the balcony with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips - watching the party unfold, watching her. The realization hits her as their eyes meet.

It’s him. It’s always been him. 

WARNINGS | 18+; SMUT; Angst; Non-Con and Violence Elements; Use of Substances and Alcohol; Complicated Relationship Dynamics.

PAIRINGS | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader [MAIN]; Modern!Daeron Targaryen x Reader; Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

WORD COUNT | 12k

Check out the art created for this fic by the lovely, talented and so very kind @azperja here!  

AUTHOR'S NOTE | This chapter does not pick up where chapter 3 left off. This is a short interlude that looks into Aemond and Alys and how they came to be, and what it is that keeps them together. Or atleast, this is my attempt at writing a complicated relationship that was doomed from the get go. The next chapter is the last one.

I do not entertain comments that so obviously reek of hate, an intent to provoke or misogyny of any kind. The fact that I've learnt to expect this is sad as it is. Be nice, or be civil and constructive and open to conversation. It's not hard, really. This is, after all, just a silly story. :)

MORE THAN A YEAR AGO - AEMOND POV

"Of course I'm here. It’s summer vacation, and it’s only one of the biggest gallery openings in the country," Wylde said with a grin. He was still new to Oldtown, while she was heading into her final year of school at King’s Landing—but they both knew where they belonged in the world. He would eventually take his place at the top, running one of the oldest commercial institutions in the realm. She would become a prominent socialite, wielding her family’s art connections with pride and skill, possibly on the arm of one of the men in this room.

For a fleeting moment back home, he had wished that man would be him. But that had passed—or so he liked to believe.

"Hm."

"Anyway, I have to make my rounds, shake hands," she sighed, as if already exhausted by the thought. "Most of them will try to get to my father through me, hoping for a chance at our family’s paintings for their displays." She paused, her expression softening. "My plane to King’s Landing leaves soon after, so I might not catch you to say goodbye, okay?"

She leaned in on the tips of her toes, instinctively brushing her lips against his cheek, a gesture so familiar it felt natural. His skin warmed under her touch as he held onto her for a moment, before letting her go and watching her slip into the crowd.

"It was nice to see you, Aemond," she said, giving him one last smile before she disappeared among the other guests.

He watched as the crowd welcomed her with open arms. And why wouldn’t they?

Aemond stood quietly near the back of the gallery, his head turned as he swirled his wine and pretended to be interested in the pieces around him. But his focus had already drifted.

From across the room, she had become the only thing he could think about.

She was magnetic in a way that defied simple description. It wasn’t just her beauty, though he could hardly deny that. There was something in the way she moved - fluid, deliberate, as if every gesture, every glance, was part of a conversation only she knew how to conduct. Aemond watched as she floated through the crowd with an easy grace, her black dress brushing the tops of her heels - not revealing, but just enough. 

But it wasn’t her appearance that intrigued him the most. It was her detachment. The way she seemed to occupy the room and yet remain entirely separate from it. Like she knew she was better than the herd. How can she possibly not? He knew it, and he’d barely known her for ten minutes.

He studied her carefully, trying to decode the way she interacted with her surroundings. The other guests barely held her interest, even her husband - Brynden Rivers, the artist on feature - who was basking in the attention of his admirers, seemed peripheral to her thoughts. She would smile and nod at the right moments, offering polite responses when addressed, but her eyes - sharp, dark, endlessly curious - always strayed back to the art. It was as though she were in search of something she hadn’t quite found, or perhaps she was testing the art itself, waiting to see if it would reveal anything worth caring about.

He found himself wondering what she saw. What was it that drew her attention so intensely? Was she, like him, disillusioned by the pageantry of it all? Or was she simply beyond it, a part of a world he hadn’t yet glimpsed?

Aemond’s eyes lingered on her, captivated by her subtle confidence. He could tell she knew he was watching - how could she not? And yet, she gave no indication that she minded. Instead, there was a knowingness in her movements, a quiet acknowledgment of his gaze that sent a strange thrill through him.

Almost as if she moved just for him.

As she turned from the group around her to admire one of the larger paintings, she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his. It was fleeting, just a flicker of recognition, but the brief moment stretched out in Aemond’s mind. She didn’t look away immediately, nor did she smile - there was something almost challenging in her gaze, as though she were testing him, daring him to keep watching.

And he did.

Their eyes met again several times as the night wore on, each moment charged with tension that had heat penetrating him through his black turtleneck. He couldn’t place it - this feeling that they were circling each other from opposite ends of the room. They had not spoken a word, yet it felt as though they were in conversation, their glances exchanging ideas, questions, provocations. What was she thinking? Did she feel this pull too, or was she simply toying with him, amused by the attention of a younger man?

She leaned in to whisper something to her husband, her lips barely moving, and Aemond felt an unexpected surge of jealousy - irrational, yes, but undeniable. She was so at ease, so unattainable, yet there was something in the way she kept looking at him, as if she wanted him to see her just as much as he wanted to understand her.

He’d never, in his entire life, felt like this before.

Their eyes locked again, and this time her lips curved into the faintest smile, not of politeness or pretense, but of acknowledgment. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Aemond, for all his careful control, felt the thrill of the chase. It wasn’t just desire - though there was plenty of that - it was the curiosity that gripped him. Who was she? What did she want from this night, from this life? And why did it feel like, in this crowded room, they were the only two people who mattered?

There was a moment when their gaze lingered just a little longer than before, the silence between them almost deafening, despite the buzz of conversation around them. Aemond felt something stir deep within him, a strange excitement, as though this unspoken challenge had a life of its own. What was he to her? Just another man in the gallery, or had she singled him out the way he had her?

It wasn’t until she broke the connection - turning back to the painting in front of her - that he realized he had been holding his breath.

Aemond had been standing in the corner of the gallery, nursing a drink that had long gone flat. His eyes drifted back to her, stealing glances, trying to untangle the mystery she presented without making it too obvious. He couldn't quite understand why she fascinated him so much, but her presence demanded his attention.

Then, it happened.

She moved.

At first, he thought she was simply changing her position to get a better view of a painting, but when their eyes met across the room for the third time that evening, something shifted. She wasn't just glancing anymore - she was walking toward him.

Aemond’s heart rate spiked. He forced himself to remain calm, to not show his surprise, but he could hardly believe she was coming up to him. The crowd of art enthusiasts seemed to blur, and the distant hum of voices faded into nothingness as she neared. He couldn't help but track every step she took, as though each one was part of a dance he hadn’t learned yet.

And then she was there, standing in front of him. Up close, she was even more striking than he had imagined - her features sharp and graceful, with an aura of confidence that was almost magnetic. She had an air of quiet authority, but not in the way the old-money elite around them carried themselves. Hers was different, more subtle, more powerful.

“Aemond Targaryen,” she said, her voice smooth and knowing, as though they were already well acquainted.

He blinked, still processing the fact that she was speaking to him at all. “You know me,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly a question. It made sense - he was a Targaryen after all, but still, something about her saying his name with such ease unnerved him.

“To no one's surprise, yes.” She smiled, the corners of her lips curling up in a way that was almost teasing. “You didn’t think I’d notice the only one in this room who's barely looked at the art?”

The comment threw him for a moment, but then, intrigued, he leaned in slightly. “A room full of some of the finest art, and yet you’ve been watching me,” he pointed out. 

Did she notice him before, the same way he’s noticed her?

For a moment, her dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Alys Rivers,” she began, letting the name roll off her tongue slowly, as if inviting him to puzzle it out.

Aemond’s brow furrowed. "Rivers?" he muttered, almost to himself, trying to jog his memory. The name wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but he couldn’t quite place it. And then it came to him - he hadn’t heard that surname in relation to anyone important in his world. 

“Strong,” she corrected softly, the name falling like a small bomb between them. “My maiden name is Strong.”

Aemond’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. Strong. Of course. Lionel Strong, the headmaster of the school he attended for years. Harwin Strong, whose presence in Rhaenyra’s life had always been whispered about, and whose children were a constant point of rumor and speculation.

She is a sister to them both. How had he not known of her all this time?

His gaze snapped back to her face, searching for any sign that might have connected her to that family before, but there was nothing immediately obvious. “Lionel Strong...” he said aloud, piecing it together, more for himself than for her benefit.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Lionel is my half-brother. Harwin, too.”

He exhaled slowly, letting the weight of it sink in. It was like a secret door had been unlocked, revealing more about her than he ever could’ve guessed. She had roots in his world, in his life, that had been there all along, just hidden beneath the surface.

Alys smirked, clearly enjoying the way his mind raced to catch up. "Surprised?"

“More than I’d like to admit,” he replied, a slow smile pulling at his lips as he found himself even more intrigued than before.

Aemond leaned back slightly, still processing everything. His mind, usually so sharp and analytical, felt slower than usual in the presence of Alys Rivers - or Strong, as she had just revealed. But as much as her family ties surprised him, it didn’t change the allure she carried. She was still an enigma, now with even more layers to uncover.

Alys shifted her gaze to the painting nearest them - a sprawling canvas of abstract forms, colors bleeding into one another in what he deduces as an intentional mess. “So, what do you think of the work?” she asked casually, her eyes tracing the chaotic lines as if she already knew exactly what he was going to say.

He tilted his head, not willing to offer anything up too quickly. “It’s… bold.”

“Bold,” she repeated, her lips quivering. “That’s a safe assessment.”

“I suppose it is,” he conceded, allowing himself a small smile. “But it’s honest. What about you? You seem like someone with stronger opinions on art.”

“I do,” she admitted, folding her arms across her chest as she took in the piece again. “This one... it’s my husband’s.”

Her words hung in the air, and Aemond couldn’t stop the faint sting of jealousy that crept into his chest at the way she said ‘husband’ - with a sense of familiarity that only came from many years of being tied together. He glanced back at the painting, trying to find some reflection of the man behind it.

“Your husband’s quite the artist,” he said, keeping his tone even, but his interest was undeniable.

Alys nodded, her gaze still on the painting. “Yes, he is. Brynden is one of the best, I suppose, but you don’t need me to tell you that. Everyone else here already has.” There was something dismissive in her voice, a casual indifference that caught Aemond off guard.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And what do you think of his work?”

Alys tilted her head and gave a half-smile, as though considering the question for the first time. “It’s... fine. I appreciate what he’s trying to say, but it doesn’t speak to me in the way art should.” She paused, then turned to him, her dark eyes finding him with a sharpness that left him momentarily breathless. “But you already guessed that, didn’t you?”

Aemond smirked, amused by how easily she read him. “It’s a little obvious. The way you talk about him, about his work… It’s almost as if you’re disconnected from it.”

She met his gaze, unflinching, her smile growing. “You’re observant, aren’t you? That must be exhausting.”

He chuckled softly, unable to help himself. “I’ve been told as much.” There was something thrilling about it - this mutual understanding, this wordless challenge.

“So,” he said, redirecting the conversation with purpose, “if your husband’s work doesn’t speak to you, what does? What kind of art do you appreciate?”

Alys turned away from the painting, her attention fully on him now. “The kind that demands something of me. Something that won’t let me look away. I want to be moved, even unsettled. The sort of art that makes you question everything you thought you knew.”

Aemond’s eyes flickered, intrigued. “You mean the kind that unsettles you in the same way a person can?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Exactly. Sometimes, the most impactful art is the kind that forces you to confront things you’ve been avoiding. It’s messy, uncomfortable, but unforgettable.”

He found himself nodding in agreement, feeling the conversation dip. “I suppose that’s why art and history are so closely linked. Both make you confront uncomfortable truths. The more you understand the world, the more you realize how fragile everything is.”

She sighed softly, as though she’d found someone who shared her exact thoughts. “Yes, and that fragility - that’s where the beauty lies. When you can’t control it. And when it’s gone, you’re left wondering why you didn’t appreciate it enough.”

They weren’t just talking about art anymore, and both of them knew it.

“And history,” she continued, her voice softer now, “is like the ultimate piece of art, isn’t it? Layered and complex, full of contradictions. No matter how much you study it, there’s always something more to uncover.”

Aemond nodded, his gaze intense. “It’s a reminder that nothing is permanent. Not power, not legacy, not even love.”

The way he said it, the quiet certainty in his voice, made Alys pause. She studied him for a long moment, as if searching for something behind his words. “You’re quite young. Do you really believe that?” she asked, her tone challenging, though her smile remained.

“Of course,” he replied easily. “Everything has its limits.”

As their conversation deepened, they moved through the gallery, eventually stopping in front of a painting that caught Alys’s attention. The piece was striking - two figures, intertwined in an abstract embrace, their forms blurring at the edges, as if they were dissolving into one another. The colors were bold, almost chaotic, bleeding into one another in a way that suggested both unity and dissolution.

Alys tilted her head, her lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “What do you make of this one?”

Aemond studied the painting, the mingling figures, the way their outlines seemed to waver as if they could hardly contain themselves within the frame. It was both intimate and unsettling, a reflection of connection and the inevitable loss that comes with it.

“It’s fascinating,” he said, voice measured. “There’s something about the way they’re almost… becoming each other. But it’s not peaceful, is it? It’s like they’re losing themselves in the process.”

She nodded, eyes still fixed on the canvas. “It’s about boundaries, I think. How much of yourself are you willing to give before you start losing pieces of who you are?”

Aemond glanced at her, sensing the weight behind her words. “Isn’t that what love does, in a way? It strips you down, forces you to let go of your boundaries until you’re not sure where you end and the other person begins.”

Alys met his gaze, her eyes sharp, thoughtful. “But that’s dangerous, isn’t it? Giving up so much of yourself. Maybe that’s why so many people cling to the idea of monogamy - one person, one connection, to keep things simple. Less risk.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Do you think monogamy keeps things simple?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not at all. Monogamy is just another way of complicating things, if you ask me. The idea that one person can meet all your needs… it feels like an illusion.”

He considered her words, watching her closely as she turned back to the painting. “So you don’t believe in it?”

Alys shrugged, her smile a little mischievous. “I believe in connection. But I also believe in freedom. Sometimes, those things don’t go hand in hand.”

Aemond’s gaze lingered on her, his mind swirling with the implications of her words. “Is that why you don’t believe in monogamy?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead turning to look at him with that same sly, knowing smile. “I didn’t say that - I can’t, given that I am married. But I don’t think it’s the only way to live.”

Aemond chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I think monogamy works for some people. But for others... perhaps it’s just another form of control.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her gaze locking with his, challenging him again. “Do you crave control, Aemond?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the intensity of her gaze made his heart race. “I think we all do, in some way. It’s human nature.”

Alys took a step closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “But sometimes, the most exhilarating moments come when you let go of control. When you surrender to something - or someone - you can’t predict.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and for a brief moment, he felt the air between them grow charged. The flirtation between them had evolved into something far more potent, far more dangerous.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, his voice lower now, the distance between them shrinking.

She didn’t break eye contact, her lips curving slightly. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Aemond glanced around the bustling gallery, the laughter and chatter of art enthusiasts fading into a background hum as his focus narrowed back to Alys. The way her eyes sparkled, the slight tilt of her head, and the intoxicating warmth of her presence drew him in like a moth to flame.

In a bold, instinctive move, he reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The contact sent a jolt through him, a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Her skin felt warm against his, soft yet somehow grounding, and he marveled at how effortlessly their hands fit together.

Without a word, he began to lead her away from the crowd. They slipped through a doorway and into an empty stairwell. As they stepped into the dim light, Aemond turned to face her fully, their hands still clasped. He felt a rush of exhilaration, the act of holding her hand feeling significant, almost intimate. 

“What now?” she asked, her voice low and playful, her gaze unwavering.

He hesitated, caught in the intensity of the moment, the gravity of her presence. He reached into his trouser pockets for a cigarette and lighter, and soon there was the ashy smell of smoke around them. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.”

The smoke from Aemond’s cigarette curling lazily into the quiet space. He took a drag, exhaling slowly as his mind raced, the sharp taste of nicotine mingling with the tension. He kept his gaze on the blank space ahead, the smoke filling the air around them. She, however, hadn’t taken her eyes off him. He could feel it—the way she watched him, measured him, waiting to see what he would do next. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it felt charged.

He took one last drag before carelessly flicking the cigarette to the floor, grinding it under his boot without a second thought. The small, defiant gesture felt freeing, as though he was stamping out a part of himself—his restraint, his hesitation. He turned to face her again, her gaze steady, her lips slightly parted as if she was waiting for something.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The world outside the stairwell ceased to exist. Then, with a low exhale, he stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers. It was a split second of tension before he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was slow at first, exploratory, testing the boundaries between them. But the moment her lips parted, the intensity between them flared to life.

Aemond pressed her back against the cold, hard wall, the warmth of her body against his heightening his awareness of every touch, every breath. His hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cup her face, the other finding her waist, pulling her closer. As the kiss deepened, his fingers traced the line of her neck, her collarbone, before they slipped lower, teasing the hem of her dress.

She let out a soft gasp as his fingers found their way between her thighs, and he swallowed the sound with his mouth. There was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling—only the smooth, practiced confidence.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as he continued, the rhythm of his fingers drawing soft moans from her lips. He could feel her tightening, her body trembling as she reached the edge. His thumb brushed over her in just the right way, and that was all it took. Alys stifled a cry as she came, her body arching against the wall, and Aemond kissed her again, this time slower, more tender, as if savoring the moment. Her breathing slowly evened out, and Aemond felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. Neither of them spoke. There was no need for words. 

They simply stood there, foreheads pressed together, sharing the stillness as the world outside continued to move without them.

Aemond had spotted her almost immediately as he entered the courtyard of the university, the gathering of faculty and students milling about in conversation. He had been here long enough to know some faces but not enough to blend in completely. Most of them were talking about papers and projects he couldn't care less about, not today.

And then there she was.

Alys Rivers. Standing among a group of intellectuals, professors, and lecturers—all older, some of them even more seasoned than she was. They looked at her with respect due to someone who held both knowledge and authority. But Aemond? He couldn't help but view her through a lens far removed from the polite deference that the others offered. He could still taste the memory of her kiss, still feel the warmth of her body beneath his fingers.

From where he stood, he could tell she’d seen him, even though she was pretending not to. Her posture had stiffened slightly, her smile at whatever quip had been made by one of her colleagues was just a bit too strained. But it was her eyes that told him the truth—fleetingly, they flicked in his direction, locking onto him for the briefest of seconds before quickly darting away.

And in that brief glance, Aemond knew. Something had changed.

The gaze she gave him wasn’t the smoldering intensity he remembered from their night in the stairwell. It wasn’t the playful challenge or the simmering heat. No, it was something colder, more distant. Her eyes held a reservation that hadn’t been there before, a guardedness he couldn’t quite place.

It made him want to tear himself apart.

He could feel a knot of frustration building in his chest, knowing what that look meant—she had figured it out. That he was just a student here, not some intriguing enigma from outside her world. She had likely put it together: that he was young, still tethered to his academic life, and most probably someone she could regret ever getting involved with.

His feet carried him forward on instinct, not even aware of what he would say or do. He just needed to close the distance between them. But as he approached, he could sense her retreat, even from across the courtyard. She didn’t move away physically, but in every other way, she had already begun to pull back.

The light in her eyes when she’d looked at him the night they first met—the spark that had drawn them together so easily—was dimmed now, like she was shielding herself from it. He could feel the walls she was putting up, the distance she was trying to create. And he hated it.

Aemond finally stopped a few feet away, his eyes fixed on her, willing her to look at him again. To acknowledge that this wasn’t over, that what they’d shared wasn’t something she could just forget. But Alys barely glanced his way, her attention deliberately on the conversation around her, offering a polite smile to some professor who was undoubtedly droning on about some obscure piece of art history.

She wasn’t ignoring him. That would have been easier to handle. No, she was acknowledging him just enough to let him know that she had seen him—but not in the way he wanted.

It was a calculated withdrawal, a signal that this—whatever this was—couldn’t continue.

He clenched his fists at his sides, frustration boiling beneath the surface. He didn’t understand. She was Alys Rivers, confident, self-assured, worldly. And now she was shrinking back, locking herself behind the very walls he thought she had long since broken down. He knew she was regretting it, regretting him. Regretting the way she had let herself lose control with him.

But Aemond couldn’t let that be the end. He wouldn’t let her slip away that easily, not after what they’d shared.

His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath, watching her from across the space. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. This was a woman who had opened a door in him he hadn’t even known existed, and now, she was shutting it without so much as a word.

He wouldn’t allow it.

Not yet.

Three nights.

Three nights had passed since that brief, fleeting glance across the courtyard. Alys had been there, wrapped in her distant composure, surrounded by those professors and intellectuals as though nothing had ever happened between them. But the space between them had spoken volumes—more than any words could. She had pulled back, retreated into the safety of her old life, her mind likely full of regrets.

But Aemond couldn’t let it go. The memory of her—of that night, her breathless sighs, the way her body had responded to his touch—had been burning in the back of his mind since. He had tried to shake it, tried to focus on the mundanity of university life, but the tension gnawed at him, unraveling him from the inside.

Tonight, it was too much.

Driving through Oldtown’s winding streets, the engine of Vhagar thrummed beneath him, a low growl matching the storm raging inside. He knew where he was headed before he had even set out, his body moving on instinct. He had to see her again. He needed answers, something more than that cold look she’d given him.

He parked down the street from her house—small, secluded, the same one where they’d fucked for the first time. His hands gripped the steering wheel for a moment, the echoes of that night replaying in his mind. He remembered every touch, every word, the way her laughter had turned to breathless gasps.

But tonight would be different. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted from her. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her fade away like this—not without understanding.

The quiet crunch of his boots against the gravel as he approached her front door made his pulse quicken. His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he almost turned back. But his hand was already lifting, knuckles tapping lightly on the wood.

When the door opened, she stood there, looking nothing like the composed and untouchable woman from the gallery. Her hair was down, soft and tousled, falling around her face, and she wore sleep clothes—an oversized, faded shirt and loose pants. Glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She must have been reading. He had to know what she’d been reading. What had captivated her mind enough to distract her tonight, of all nights? He so desperately wanted to ask.

But he couldn’t.

Because when Alys saw him standing there—her face wilted. It was like watching her defenses crumble in slow motion, a mixture of resignation and regret playing out in the slight downturn of her lips, in the way her shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

“Aemond,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but before he could speak, she grabbed him by the arm and tugged him inside, glancing quickly at the dark street behind him to make sure no one had seen.

She closed the door with a quiet click, sealing them both inside.

His eyes followed her, drinking in every detail. The loose fabric of her shirt, the way her hair moved with each step, and the quiet way she carried herself now, so different from the confidence she had exuded at the gallery and that night in the stairwell.

She moved to the kitchen, her steps quiet but purposeful. Aemond stood behind her, watching as she reached for a small coffee pot, her movements practiced and deliberate, as if she were stalling for time. The familiar hiss of the coffee beginning to brew filled the silence, but Aemond’s eyes remained fixed on her. His heart still pounded in his chest, an anxious rhythm that echoed in the quiet space between them.

He wanted to ask why she had pulled back. Why did she change so quickly? He wanted to know everything—why she had retreated, why she was here now, brewing coffee in the middle of the night as though they were nothing more than casual acquaintances.

But most of all, he wanted to know if she regretted him.

Aemond stood there, watching her small, quiet movements. The coffee pot sputtered softly, the scent of fresh grounds filling the kitchen, but all his attention was on her—the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the way her fingers tightened momentarily on the countertop as though she was trying to steady herself. He couldn’t resist the pull any longer. His body moved before his mind could catch up.

Slowly, deliberately, he crossed the space between them, closing the distance. His chest brushed against her back, and he could feel her tense, though she didn’t pull away. His hands found her waist, fingers tightening just enough to hold her there, to ground both of them in this moment. She exhaled, a soft sound that almost broke him.

Aemond lowered his head, his lips grazing the delicate skin at the nape of her neck. He could feel the faintest strands of her hair brushing against his face, tickling his lips as he kissed the smallest, most intimate part of her. His breath was warm against her skin, and he felt her body shift—just the slightest tremor beneath his hands.

Her grip on the countertop tightened as she whispered, “Aemond… this isn’t right.”

He paused, his lips hovering above her skin as her words cut through the haze of desire between them. Slowly, she turned around to face him, her expression a mix of guilt and something more difficult to define. Her eyes searched his, lingering for a moment before she looked down, as if she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze for too long.

“I teach at Oldtown,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “You’re a student. I didn’t know... I never knew.”

She was visibly conflicted, her hands pressing flat against the counter as if to steady herself against the weight of her own words. “This... this isn’t right.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening in frustration. “You teach art history,” he countered, his voice sharp, but controlled. “I’m in economics. You don’t teach me.”

Her eyes flicked back up to his, but there was still a shadow of doubt there. “It doesn’t matter. The lines are blurred, Aemond. We’re from the same world, the same institution. It complicates everything.”

“And what?” He leaned in closer, his voice low and heated now, laced with frustration. “Because we’re in the same place, suddenly this—” his hand tightened on her waist, “—suddenly this isn’t real? Or doesn’t count?”

She shook her head, but her breath hitched as his grip became firmer. “No, it’s not that—”

“Then what?” He demanded softly, his mouth inches from hers, his words a mix of desperation and desire. “What is it that makes you think this is wrong?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her hesitation, the conflict in her gaze, only fueled his frustration.

“I need you, Alys,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to make me feel alive.”

The vulnerability in his words hung between them, raw and unguarded. For a moment, neither of them moved. The kitchen was filled with the quiet hum of the coffee pot, the only sound punctuating the thick tension.

Alys exhaled shakily, her gaze softening. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, her hand lingering there as though she was holding herself together. “Aemond...” she began, her voice quieter now, more fragile. “You don’t understand how dangerous this is.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips brushing against hers. “I don’t care about any of it.”

Their lips collided with a fierce, almost desperate need. His hand slipped from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while her fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him toward her as if she couldn’t fight it anymore. The kiss was electric, a surge of everything they had been holding back. All the conflict, all the tension melted into the heat between them.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were ragged, their foreheads pressed together. Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel hers too, fast and erratic against him.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she whispered, though there was no conviction in her words. “I can’t…”

“You can,” he murmured, brushing his lips softly against her cheek, his hand still resting on her back. “You can.”

She let out a soft, conflicted sigh, her head resting against his chest for just a moment before she stepped back slightly, enough to put some distance between them. “I hope you’re right,” she said softly, her eyes searching for his once again, though this time, there was a trace of hope.

Aemond lay on his back, his chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of contentment. Beside him, Alys stretched languidly. The sheets had slipped down, revealing the smooth curve of her back and the hint of tattoos peeking along her spine—small, deliberate symbols that only made her more intriguing.

Months have passed since they began what she calls a clandestine affair, and yet, he supposed he’d never get used to the feeling of being able to hold someone as exquisite as her.

He turned his head slightly, studying her in the faint light, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders, the way she seemed completely at ease in the quiet space between them. 

She shifted, rolling onto her side to face him, propping her head up on her hand. Her eyes, dark and sharp as ever, flicked up to meet his, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I was thinking,” she began, her voice low and languid, “about the mural at the Starry Sept.”

Aemond raised a brow, his lips curving into a small smirk. Of course she would talk about art history after a night like this. “Oh?” he prompted, turning fully to face her, his arm resting beneath his head. “What about it?”

Alys leaned closer, her voice dropping into that tone she used when she was fully in her element—an intoxicating mix of mystique and allure. “The mural depicts Aegon’s Conquest, but what most people overlook is the subtle inclusion of symbols that reference the Valyrian Freehold’s decline. It's not just a celebration of Aegon's victory but a commentary on the fall of an empire—and, perhaps, a warning about the fragility of power.”

He watched her intently, captivated by the way she spoke, her words moving effortlessly between history and art, tying together themes in a way that made even the most obscure details seem relevant, significant. She was always like this— her intelligence wrapping around him in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“You think it was intentional?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious. “The decline of Valyria, woven into the heart of a Westerosi victory mural?”

Alys smirked, her fingers tracing small, idle patterns on the sheets. “I do. Art isn’t just about what’s obvious—it’s about what’s hidden, what’s suggested. Power, love, history—it’s all layered. And those who know how to look will always find more than what’s on the surface.”

Aemond chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. “You’ve quite the understanding of it all.”

Her smile widened, a little more playful now, her fingers brushing over his arm. “Maybe. I should, given that I teach it.”

He felt a rush of admiration for her, this woman who could so effortlessly transition from a fierce intellectual to someone who could make him feel utterly insignificant and yet completely seen at the same time. She was unlike anyone he had ever met.

“You’re wasted in Oldtown,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter, more serious. “You should be part of the think tank at the Citadel, teaching them all how to see the world the way you do.”

Alys laughed softly, shaking her head. “The Citadel doesn’t want women like me, Aemond. They want their history clean and simple. But the way I see it… history is messy—it’s complicated, just like everything else.”

He couldn’t argue with that, not when she had such a profound grasp of the chaos beneath the surface of things. He reached out, his hand sliding into her hair, tugging her just a little closer. “Messy can be beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher now, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

Her gaze softened slightly, her sharpness dimming just a little in the warm intimacy of the moment. “You’re full of surprises, Targaryen.”

He smirked, leaning in to kiss her softly, their lips brushing in a slow, deliberate way. When he pulled back, he caught the way her gaze lingered on him, as though she were sizing him up, trying to decide if she should let him in a little more.

“So,” she said after a moment, her voice softer but still holding that edge of curiosity. “If Westerosi art is a reflection of its history, what do you think it says about you? About the Targaryens?”

Aemond tilted his head, considering her question carefully. “It says that we are a people obsessed with legacy. Everything we do is about ensuring our names, our houses, are remembered. Even our art is full of dragons, of conquest and fire—it’s about showing power.”

“And what about you?” she asked, her eyes locked onto his, searching. “What do you want your legacy to be?”

He paused, the question hanging between them. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer. His whole life had been spent chasing power, chasing recognition. But here, in this moment, with her, he felt something shift. Something deeper, more personal.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than he had intended. “But I think I want it to be more than just a name in the books.”

Alys studied him for a long moment, her expression softening. She reached out, her hand resting on his chest, just over his heart. “Maybe that’s the first step. Realizing there’s more to life than what the world expects from you.”

Aemond’s heart beat a little faster under her touch. That’s when it hits him. For the first time, he wasn’t chasing power, authority or perfection.

He was chasing her.

“There's always this sense of danger, of forbidden pleasure. But people are drawn to it.”

She set her plate aside, her fingers brushing absently over the arm of the sofa. “In most of the stories, it’s either villainized or fetishized. Affairs are always catastrophic, or they’re seen as something scandalous, and yet… they’re everywhere. The stories, the songs, the histories—they all revolve around love triangles, mistresses, lovers. It's as though the idea of being with more than one person is at the center of so many lives, but no one ever talks about it openly.”

Alys turned toward him, her eyes sharper now, more focused. “That’s because monogamy is a construct. It’s a way of controlling love, of organizing it into something neat and manageable. But love isn’t manageable, Aemond. It’s messy. It’s wild. And sometimes, it doesn’t fit into one person, or one life.”

There was a quiet intensity in her words, the kind that made him listen more carefully. “And you?” he asked, his voice soft, probing. “What about your own life?”

Alys sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she set her plate down on the coffee table. “Brynden and I—we’re not monogamous, though we were, once upon a time. We’ve been married for over a decade, but we realized early on that there were things we both wanted, things that didn’t always align.”

Aemond frowned slightly, not quite understanding. “But if you love each other…”

She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her expression, a kind of resigned wisdom. “We do love each other. We care deeply about each other, we love each other. But we’re not in love. Not in the way that most people expect or demand from a marriage.”

Aemond’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through his mind. “So, you just… see other people? Without it affecting you?”

Alys shook her head, leaning forward slightly. “It only works if both people are one hundred percent okay with it. That’s the thing, Aemond. You can’t force this kind of relationship. Brynden and I have different things we need out of life. There’s very little I can do to satisfy myself if I have to compromise for him. The same goes for him too. He’s my best friend. We’ve found a balance, a way to live together and still have space for ourselves.”

She glanced at him, watching his reaction carefully. “But it’s not easy. It takes a lot of trust. And it doesn’t always make sense to people who see love as something that has to be exclusive.”

Aemond sat back, his lips curling slightly in that familiar way when his mind was working through something, his ego surfacing. He couldn’t help himself. “I suppose I’m lucky, then,” he said, a faint note of arrogance in his voice. “To be the one who gets to benefit from that.”

Alys’s expression froze. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the warm, intimate atmosphere between them cracked. She stood up abruptly, her voice sharp with disbelief. “Lucky?” she echoed, her gaze piercing. “You think this is about luck? Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain something like this without everything falling apart?”

Aemond realized his mistake the moment the words left his mouth. He shot to his feet, his hand reaching for hers. “Alys, I didn’t mean—”

But she pulled her hand back, shaking her head, her frustration evident. “No, you don’t get to reduce my life, my choices, to something as simple as luck.”

He stepped closer, his hands moving to her shoulders, his voice softer now, more genuine. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Alys stared at him for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with restrained emotion. He could see the tension in her, the wariness that came with it all. In a rare display, her years showed.

Without a word, Aemond leaned in and kissed her, his lips capturing hers in a way that was both apologetic and filled with longing. She responded, hesitantly at first, but then with more intensity, as though she were letting go of something. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet space. Aemond held her close, his fingers brushing over her sides, and he spoke softly, almost reverently. “I meant what I said, Alys.”

Alys closed her eyes for a moment, her breathing steadying as she absorbed his words. She sighed softly, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest. 

“I know.”

Aemond lay beside Alys, his shirt barely clinging to her, the fabric slipping off one shoulder, exposing her pale skin. She moved beneath the sheets with a languid grace that only made her more irresistible. His fingers skimmed over her body, memorizing the dips and curves, the way her skin felt like silk under his touch. Every breath she took was a silent invitation, every brush of her lips against his a reminder of what had just transpired.

Her scent—something faintly floral and utterly intoxicating—clung to the air, mixing with the musky scent of sweat and sex. Aemond felt suspended in the moment, tethered to her in a way he hadn’t anticipated. His gaze drifted from the ceiling to her face, watching as she nestled deeper into the bed, her hair splayed out across the pillow like a dark halo. The way she looked in his shirt, the way she wore it so effortlessly, made his pulse quicken. Everything about her was sensual, down to the simplest gestures, like the lazy curl of her fingers as she reached for him, grazing her nails along his chest.

Her lips brushed his once more, a teasing kiss that made his head spin, like she knew just how far she could push him before he crumbled beneath her. There was an ease to her movements, a confidence that drove him wild, made him want to lose himself in her all over again. She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against his, the heat of her skin sparking something primal within him.

But then her voice cut through the haze, soft and matter-of-fact, as if she were commenting on the weather. "I’m going to see Brynden tomorrow."

The words struck him like a slow-burning match, igniting something deep inside. The stillness in the room suddenly felt suffocating, the heat they’d shared now turning into a simmering tension. His hand, which had been gently tracing the curve of her waist, stilled. Aemond’s pulse quickened, but outwardly, he gave no sign of the fire starting to rage inside him.

Brynden. Her husband.

He tried to keep his breathing steady, but the thought of her with someone else—him—was enough to send a surge of possessiveness coursing through him. Aemond prided himself on his ability to control his emotions, to keep them tightly reined in, but this was different. 

She wasn’t just anyone. She was Alys. And the idea of her in another man’s bed, even if it was her husband's, twisted something deep inside him.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his jealousy in check. He didn’t have any right to feel this way. She had made it clear from the beginning. He knew what this was, knew the rules—yet none of that mattered in this moment. Not when the image of her leaving his bed for Brynden was clawing at him, filling him with a need he could barely control.

Alys shifted beside him, her fingers trailing lightly down his chest, as if she were unaware of the storm brewing inside him. But she always knew. She was far too perceptive not to notice the tension that had settled between them.

She tilted her head up, her eyes locking onto his, and there was a playful glint in them. “Are you jealous?” she asked, her tone teasing but laced with curiosity.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t respond, his fingers now gripping her waist with more intensity than before. He swallowed hard, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, but he couldn’t hold back. “I just fucked you, and you’re telling me you’re going to see someone else tomorrow.”

Her laughter was soft, almost like a sigh, but it stoked the flames inside him. She pulled away slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “You always knew what this was,” she murmured, her voice gentle yet firm, as if she was reminding him of the rules they had both agreed to.

He turned his head, staring down at her. She looked so effortlessly beautiful, so at ease, but the casualness of her words only intensified the gnawing jealousy inside him. You always knew what this was. Maybe he did, but hearing her say it aloud, hearing her reaffirm the boundaries that she had always been so careful to maintain—it made him feel helpless in a way he hadn’t expected.

His mind couldn’t help but wander, the images of what tomorrow would bring gnawing at him. He thought of her with Brynden, imagined them together, tangled in sheets that weren’t his. Would he touch her the way Aemond did? Would he know the places to kiss that made her gasp softly into his mouth? Would he know the way she liked to be held, the way she would bite her lip when she was just on the edge of ecstasy?

Would he even care?

Or worse, did he know better than him?

Aemond’s grip on her waist tightened, his possessiveness flaring, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his lips. “Are you seeing others as well? Or is it just me and Brynden?”

Alys paused, her fingers stopping their idle movements as she looked at him, her gaze thoughtful. She didn’t seem surprised by his question, as if she had been expecting it. “Right now,” she said slowly, “it’s just the two of you.” Her lips curved into a small smile, one that sent a thrill through him despite the jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. 

The fact—that men would come running if she wanted them to—remains unsaid.

Aemond’s lips pressed into a tight line as he absorbed her words. Of course they would. She was magnetic—her beauty, her intelligence, the way she moved through the world with such ease—it was impossible not to be drawn to her. But even knowing that didn’t make the tightness in his chest any easier to bear.

He sat up slightly, his hand trailing up her back, fingers brushing over the exposed skin where his shirt had slipped down her shoulder. He wanted to pull her close, to keep her here with him, but he knew he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to be the only one, to claim her in a way no one else could, he knew the limits of what he was allowed.

This arrangement works because everyone knows where they stand.

She smiled softly, pulling him down to her for a kiss, her lips warm and inviting against his. But as she pulled away, her gaze lingered on his, and there was something knowing in her eyes, something that told him she understood all too well.

“I meant it,” he whispered, his voice low, rough with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. “I am jealous.”

Alys didn’t say anything, but the soft look in her eyes said enough. She knew. She had always known.

And he should have too.

Aemond had spent days trying to shake the feeling, trying to claw his way back to the control he’d once prided himself on. But the jealousy gnawed at him, a constant, gnawing tension in his chest. He hadn’t seen Alys since that night—had barely even let himself think of her—but she was everywhere. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her lying in his bed, felt her skin beneath his fingers, heard her voice as she casually mentioned her husband’s name, as if it were nothing.

He tried to drown himself in distractions—meetings, late-night study sessions, endless hours at the gym—but none of it worked. The silence of his apartment felt louder than ever, and every time he glanced at his phone, he half-expected to see a message from her. But it never came.

Not until Wylde’s name appeared on his screen.

He was standing by the window, mindlessly staring at the city lights when the familiar vibration startled him from his thoughts. He glanced down, and for a brief, disorienting second, his heart stopped. The photo of her flashed on his phone—a candid shot she had sent him months ago, a sunlit snapshot of her by the cliffs, her eyes gleaming with mischief and an easy smile that always made him feel lighter.

His stomach flipped, warmth spreading through him at the sight of her name.

It was as if all the heaviness he had been carrying suddenly lifted, the fog of jealousy and frustration dissipating in an instant. Without thinking, he grabbed the phone and answered, bringing it to his ear.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, a hint of surprise in his tone.

He leaned into his pillows on the bed as she talked, her singsong voice making him feel lighter with each second. His cigarette burned idly between his fingers, ash falling unnoticed to the floor as he listened to her voice on the other end of the line. It had been days since they’d last talked, and the sound of her now felt like a balm to his burned heart.

“So, I tried that new coffee place you told me about,” Wylde said, her voice light, teasing. He could hear the smile in it. “The one with the ridiculously overpriced pastries.”

He smirked, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “And?”

She sighed dramatically. “Never again. I’m convinced you only recommended it for the aesthetics.”

Aemond chuckled softly, the tension in his chest loosening just a fraction. “Maybe. The coffee���s not terrible though.”

“Not terrible? I’ve had better instant coffee.”

There was a pause on her end before her tone shifted, more thoughtful now. “So… Daeron talked to me today.”

Aemond’s fingers stilled on his cigarette. “And?”

“I don’t know. He apologized, and we talked. One thing led to another and I told him I loved him.”

The warmth that had spread through him a moment ago began to ebb as she continued.

“I asked him why he never said anything, and he said he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“Hm.” He lit another cigarette, the click of the lighter distinct even through the phone. He could picture her so clearly, lying in bed with the phone pressed to her ear, her face soft with thought. He flexed his knuckles as he always did when he needed to keep his hands busy, the tension creeping back into his muscles.

“And then we just… I don’t know. We just sort of sat there for a bit.”

“Hm.” He inhaled slowly, letting the smoke fill his lungs, waiting for her to continue. Aemond had never been one to rush her, especially when it came to things like this. He imagined the awkward silence that must have hung between her and Daeron, and it stirred something low in his chest.

“We didn’t say much after. I was too embarrassed to continue, and he seemed tired. We just finished our drinks and then he insisted on walking me home.”

Aemond didn’t respond right away. He let the silence stretch between them, processing her words. His thumb absently flicked at the filter of his cigarette as he stared out into the dim city skyline, feeling the familiar weight settle on him. The thought of Daeron, after everything, still having a hold over her – it bothered him more than it should. He knew it was irrational, but knowing didn’t make it any easier to shake.

He shifted in his seat, the leather of his jacket rustling faintly. 

A slight creak of her bed sounded through the phone as she shifted. “Are you still there?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone quiet, more subdued than before. He hesitated for a moment, flexing his knuckles again before asking, “Are you… do you still have feelings for him?”

The question was out before he could stop it, and immediately, he regretted how vulnerable it made him sound. He tried to keep his voice even, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

There was a pause on her end, the kind that made his chest tighten. He could almost picture her expression—surprised, maybe, but not angry.

“It hasn’t completely gone away,” she finally admitted, her voice measured. “There’s always going to be something there. But no, not quite as I used to.”

He took another slow drag, the smoke clouding his vision as he exhaled. Good. Maybe it’s time to focus on other things. Other people.”

He hoped his voice sounded casual, like it didn’t matter much to him either way.

“Yeah. Maybe it is,” she replied, her voice softer now, as though she was giving the idea some real thought.

Aemond let the silence stretch between them again, and this time, it felt a little lighter. He could feel the tension that had gripped him earlier easing. The jealousy that had been simmering for days was still there, but now it felt manageable, less like a gnawing ache and more like a dull throb he could ignore.

“Speaking of other people,” she said, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. “Have you made any new friends at university? Met anyone interesting?”

Aemond felt his jaw tighten for a second before he forced himself to relax. He could almost hear her smirking through the phone.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause, his voice deliberately noncommittal. “A few people.”

“Oh? Anyone special?” she pressed, clearly enjoying the chance to prod at him.

He hesitated, and the pause was long enough that he knew she’d pick up on it.

“Hm…”

“Aemond,” she said, exasperation seeping into her voice, though he could tell she was smiling. “Is that a yes?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, knowing it would drive her crazy.

“Come on! You can’t just say ‘perhaps’ and leave it at that. Tell me!” she urged, her voice rising with excitement.

He sighed, trying to hide the smirk playing at his lips. “There’s someone. But it’s nothing serious.”

“Someone? What’s their name?” she asked eagerly.

“No.”

Her laughter bubbled through the phone, warm and familiar. “You’re no fun.”

“Nothing much to say,” he countered, taking another drag. “It’s… too soon.”

She sighed dramatically, though he could hear the smile in her voice. “Fine, but you owe me details eventually.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been in days.

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Aemond couldn’t help but smile this time. He could picture her so clearly, lying there in bed with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “We’ll see.”

“I’m tired. Good night, Aemond,” her voice was soft, gentle, as though the day’s weight had finally eased off her shoulders. There was something warm in the way she said it, something familiar that made him pause.

“Good night, Wylde,” he murmured back, his own voice laced with a quiet fondness he hadn’t meant to let slip.

As the call ended, the stillness of the room settled over him. Aemond leaned back in his chair, staring at his phone for a long moment, her name still glowing on the screen. The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he thought of her. Even now, after everything, she could still make his chest tighten with just a word. He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, watching the embers smolder and fade.

For a moment, his mind drifted back to last summer. How he almost told her when they sat in her bed before he left, how the words had been on the tip of his tongue so many times. The late nights they’d spent talking, the stolen glances when she wasn’t looking—he’d convinced himself it was just a crush, a fleeting thing. But the way his heart would flip whenever she smiled at him, or how his pulse would race when her hand brushed his... Maybe it was something more. He’d wondered if, just maybe, she’d felt it too.

But then he left. And in Oldtown, everything changed.

Alys.

Aemond closed his eyes, feeling a familiar heat coil in his chest at the mere thought of her. Gods, Alys. She was unlike anyone he’d ever known—intense, dangerous, and undeniably captivating. He remembered the first time they met, the way her eyes had seemed to see right through him, peeling back layers he hadn’t even known were there. And before he knew it, he was tangled in her, in whatever it was they had together. It wasn’t love, no, but it was something—something that gripped him hard and wouldn’t let go.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. Even now, his heart still flipped when Wylde called, but it didn’t beg for her the way it did for Alys. With Wylde, it was soft, warm, comforting. But with Alys... oh gods, with Alys it was something else entirely. The heat between them, the way his body craved hers—it was raw, electric, and it consumed him in ways that were almost terrifying.

And yet... he thought of Wylde, her soft pining after Daeron, how she still held onto the hope of something that had never truly been hers. It infuriated him in a way he couldn’t explain. He hated that she didn’t see how beneath her it was. Daeron, who despite being his own brother, would never be someone who would give her what she deserved. She didn’t see it, and maybe she never would.

His thoughts flickered back to Alys, to the way he’d let himself get caught up in her. He hadn’t intended for it to go this far. He didn’t need commitment, he didn’t need to belong to anyone. Not when he had someone like Alys—someone who didn’t ask for anything more than what he could give. What they had worked for him. It was perfect, just the way it was. So why did his mind keep slipping, why did the thought of Wylde still linger, hovering just at the edge of his thoughts?

He clenched his jaw, pushing the thoughts aside. It didn’t matter. Wylde was still tied up in Daeron, in whatever heartbreak she was clinging to. And Alys... Alys was what he needed. She gave him exactly what he wanted without the complications, without the demands.

The next night, Aemond found himself standing at Alys’ door, barely able to breathe as she opened it. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and before she could say anything, he was on her, slamming the door shut with a force that echoed through the room.

His hands were on her in an instant, pushing her back against the wall, his lips crashing down on hers with a hunger he hadn’t realized had built up inside him. The kiss was fierce, unrelenting, and she barely had time to gasp before he was lifting her, his fingers digging into her skin, his body pressing against hers.

He didn’t stop to think, didn’t slow down, didn’t give her a moment to ask what was happening. He just took the way he liked. Her breath was ragged, matching his own, her nails digging into his back as she responded with equal fervor.

This was what he needed.

She twirled a strand of dark hair between her fingers, her eyes locked onto him as he talked about the upcoming summer trip to Valyria. Aegon’s relationship with Sara Snow had opened doors that were otherwise sealed shut for nearly everyone else. A summer expedition to the ancient, forbidden land—one that was so deeply tied to his heritage—felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and yet the anticipation thrummed through his veins in a way that was almost... understated.

“You’ll see things no one’s seen for centuries,” Alys said. Her gaze flicked over him as if she was sizing him up, wondering how deeply the land’s mysteries would affect him. “If you’re lucky, they’ll let you wander off the program. See the real Valyria, not just the parts the academics have planned out for their research.”

Aemond’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “Sara Snow runs a tight ship. There’s not much leeway. But Aegon mentioned there might be an opportunity if I slip away during one of the less critical site studies. She’s obsessed with the subterranean temples. It’s the landmarks I’m after—those that would bear the sigils or icons linked to House Targaryen. Dragons. The Three-headed Beast.”

Alys leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, intrigued. “You think the old sigils might still be there? Carved into stone or etched into relics buried beneath volcanic ash?”

“I have a feeling they would be,” Aemond murmured, his eyes flickering with a hint of excitement. “The Targaryens came from there. It’s in our blood, our bones. The architecture, the ancient monuments, it would all tie back to our origins. Even if some of it’s eroded or destroyed, Valyria’s foundation was built on the backs of dragonlords.”

Alys’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Keep your eyes open for anything that seems... too deliberate. Valyrian artisans were methodical. They hid their secrets in plain sight, but only for those who know where to look.”

He nodded, his mind already racing through what he’d studied about Valyria—the imagery, the symbolism, the deep-rooted history he was about to walk into. His excitement was tempered, though, controlled as always. Aemond’s passions ran deep, but they were guarded.

As they continued to speak, his phone buzzed softly in his pocket. He almost didn’t reach for it, but something told him to look. The moment he saw the name on the screen, his expression softened, the tension in his body easing in a way Alys had never quite seen before.

“Who is it?” Alys asked, noticing the subtle shift in him.

Without answering, Aemond gave her a brief, almost apologetic smile as he slid his thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Wylde,” he greeted, his voice warmer, softer than it had been in the last few hours. “What’s up?”

Alys raised a brow, watching as he leaned back in his seat, a trace of amusement flickering in her dark eyes as she observed the man in front of her transform into something gentler, less guarded.

More so the boy that he is.

Her voice was muffled, but Aemond listened intently, nodding along as if she could see him. His eyes brightened subtly, the corners of his lips twitching as she told him about her graduation gown fitting.

“Finally packing for Oldtown, huh?” he asked, a rare note of quiet excitement in his voice. “Good.”

There was a pause as Wylde spoke again, and Aemond’s gaze flickered toward Alys for a brief moment, remembering that he wasn’t alone. “I’m with someone right now, but I’ll call you later, alright?”

She said something else, something lighthearted, and Aemond’s lips curled into a small, barely-there smile as he ended the call.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, and when he looked up, Alys was watching him with that same knowing smile that made it clear she’d picked up on everything.

“Wylde?” she asked casually, though her tone was tinged with curiosity.

Aemond didn’t answer immediately, his features slipping back into the cool detachment he was known for, but Alys could see the faint trace of warmth still lingering in his eyes.

“She’s an old friend of the family,” he said, his voice measured, but Alys didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed slightly, as if he was still holding onto the echo of the conversation.

Alys leaned back in her seat, smirking. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you smile like that before.”

Aemond’s gaze met Alys’s, cool and steady, the warmth from moments before already fading as if it had never existed. His fingers absently flexed against the edge of the table, and he gave a small shrug.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his voice returning to its usual controlled cadence. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Alys didn’t say anything for a moment, just continued to watch him with that knowing smile, her lips curving as if she saw right through him. She leaned forward slightly, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as her eyes locked onto his, sharp and unreadable.

“Doesn’t it?” she asked, her tone teasing but with an edge of curiosity, probing.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “No. It doesn’t.”

He picked up his cigarette from the ashtray and took a slow drag, the smoke curling lazily between them. Alys tilted her head, her smile widening just a fraction, as if his denial was amusing to her. She didn’t push further, though. That wasn’t her style. Alys knew when to press and when to let things be. She had him figured out well enough to know that some things were better left unspoken.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice soft, almost soothing, though the amusement in her eyes never quite left. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. “If you say so.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, the smoke dissipating into the air between them, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. But Alys’s smile lingered, just on the edge of her lips, like she knew something he wasn’t ready to admit even to himself.

Two months later, she stood at his doorstep in Oldtown.

“Hey, missed me?” Wylde said, her voice light, that familiar carelessness in her tone that always managed to put him at ease. The way she looked at him—like nothing had changed—made something in his chest shift, the way it always did.

She stepped forward to hug him, and he held her for a moment longer after, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Have you moved into your new place yet?" he asked, trying to sound casual, as if her being here wasn’t undoing everything he had told himself.

As if he hadn’t spent months imagining this exact moment and wondering how it would feel.

"The boxes are in," she replied with a shrug, her eyes meeting his, bright and untroubled, unguarded in a way that made him feel like he could breathe again. "I should probably start unpacking soon."

He nodded, a small smile forming. "Let me know if you need help."

Her eyes softened, and she leaned back slightly, as if assessing him. “How was Valyria?”

And then, it all unraveled. The way she said it, like she genuinely wanted to know, like she’d missed hearing about his life. He began talking, and for the first time in what felt like a year, he felt that spark of excitement again, the kind that came naturally around her. He found himself smiling in a way he hadn’t in months, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders as he told her about the trip, about the ruins and relics, his voice lighter than it had been in so long. She listened, leaning in, her eyes tracing his face like she was searching for something she’d missed.

He didn’t even realize he was still holding her. He hadn’t let go, and his hands were warm where they rested on her, like something slotting into place. And suddenly, for the first time since he’d moved here, everything felt right.

Lighter. Like home.

He was fucked. Completely. He could feel it now, the rush of everything he’d tried to bury for months rising up, all at once.

How did he ever convince himself he’d gotten over her?

MASTERLIST

NO TAG LIST. PLEASE FOLLOW AND TURN ON POST NOTIFS FOR @randomdragonfics for fic updates!

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

And All The Fears You Hold So Dear

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Angst. Unplanned Pregnancy. Mild violence. Also there's like a smidge of nsfw talk there but thought I'd let you know beforehand just in case.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Part Three and Final Installment of something that started as a one-shot and somehow escalated into this¿¿

I just want to thank you for all your very kind comments and let you know that I got a couple requests that I'll be working on, so this might not be the last you see of me. Ily <3

also i cried so much writing this now you have to suffer like i did. xo

Right after the tears finally stopped coming, the emotional exhaustion translated into an intense weariness that made you collapse on the sofa. That hour spent out of consciousness was a blissful interlude in the pain that had your chest hurting and leaving you unable to breathe.  You’d once read somewhere that there was something called “phantom limb syndrome” in which people could feel pain in an amputated hand, arm, or leg. When you woke up, you looked out at the now dark sky and thought of giving Miguel a call to tell him about what an awful day you were having until the memories came back like a harrowing tsunami that had you tearing up when you wondered for how long you’d have to keep reminding yourself that he wasn’t there anymore. This time, however, you became angry. And oddly self-assured.

You didn’t need him. You’d given him a choice, and if a sad, pitiful, lonely life was what he wanted, then good riddance. His loss.

You could do this. Jessica’s pregnancy hadn’t stopped her after all. Sure, it would be challenging but there were mothers out there who took care of one or more children and balanced several jobs didn’t they? So what if you moonlighted as a vigilante whose life was on the line every day? What if you’d have to spend the rest of your life protecting him or her from the bunch of fairly dangerous enemies you’d made in the past months?

Or maybe you didn’t have to.

Your eyes wandered off to your suit which you’d mindlessly thrown on the floor the second you’d arrived home, scrutinizing the details and the care that you’d put into creating it. You wondered what it would look like inside a box, hidden in the back of the closet for years, or until your kid stumbled upon it and asked about mommy’s dutifully hidden past.

An obnoxious beeping sound coming from between the cushions snapped you out of your fantasy as you fished your watch. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken it with you and now it was issuing a warning concerning an anomaly with an amazing timing that had decided to pop into your dimension.

Placing a hand on your stomach, you looked out of the window and doubtfully pressed your lips together.

“Shit. Please, let it be a Vulture that’s literally a vulture, please,” you pleaded with whatever deity chose to listen to you as you picked up your suit and rushed to the bathroom, mindlessly throwing the test into the trash can before pulling the mask over your head.

Unfortunately, you didn’t arrive at the location to find a confused scavenging bird flapping around. You weren’t even sure of what you’d been sent to capture. At the scene, several police cars had formed a barricade outside of an empty warehouse and seemed to be lying in wait, aiming at the door with their guns. Good. That meant you could get in there and set things straight with the unwanted visitor before anybody got hurt.

You stealthily made your way from a nearby ledge to the roof, finding your way in through a broken skylight and landing on top of a pile of metallic crates solid enough to hold your weight but making your entrance noisier than you would’ve liked.

Whatever you were looking for, it was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse was in such darkness that, if it wasn’t for the night-vision lenses Miguel had fitted into your mask, you wouldn’t be able to see further than your own nose. They had come in pretty handy, and you couldn’t believe you’d been so opposed to getting them.

“(Y/N) it’s just one small modification, give me one reason not to.”

“Because you’ve already done too much!”

“Oh come on, it will take me what? Twenty minutes?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean you’ve done too much to my suit, Miguel. First, the emergency parachute, next the spine and nape reinforcements, then you literally said ‘You know what? How about we just redo the whole thing with fireproof fabric?’ and now another modification?”

“He added memory foam insoles too, said you wouldn’t notice, I’m with you on this one” Lyla chimed in.

You pressed your lips together to fight back a satisfied smile while Miguel glared daggers at the AI assistant, who refused to back down.

“She still remembers please and thank you, alright?”

“Lyla, will you please go check if there’s a faulty connection or a leaky pipe somewhere? Thank you.”

After throwing a sickly sweet smile his way, she vanished.

“Alright then,” Miguel continued arguing, “I’m sorry for offering to install state-of-the-art, potentially lifesaving enhancements to your suit. What was I thinking, not wanting my girlfriend to die?”

He lifted his hands in defeat and retreated to the other side of the room, minimizing the digital blueprints of the new glasses.

“And for the record,” He continued, “I didn’t do all the work for your new suit, you designed it, remember? I had no idea of what a ‘basque waistline’ was,”

When he finished talking, he was surprised to hear absolutely nothing coming from your side. Furrowing his eyebrows, he turned to see you still leaning against the metallic table on top of which your suit rested. You were staring at him with a surprised expression that only baffled him further when he noticed the bright blush spreading around your cheeks and down to your neck. Then it dawned on him.

“Oh shit, I’ve never called you that before, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,”

Of course, that small window of vulnerability was all he needed.

“Please let me put the lenses on your suit?”

What he didn’t know was that you can see both ways through a window. When he earnestly pleaded with you to let him install the stupid attachment, his true motives were as clear as if you’d heard them straight from his mouth.

Last time I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t plan ahead. If something happens to you and I have the slightest notion that I didn’t do absolutely everything in my power to keep you safe…please. Do this for me, would you? For my own, selfish peace of mind?

And he’d been right. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something dart from behind one container to the next one.

“I see you,” You announced, rolling your shoulders as your Spider-Sense began acting up, “Listen, you’re probably feeling confused right now and if you come out we could…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence as something heavy and cold tackled you onto the ground. Instinctively, you rolled over just in time for something sharp the size of a harpoon to stab the ground next to your head strong enough to pierce the concrete. Without wasting one more second, you jumped on top of a container to take a better look at whatever the hell that was just to find that same spot completely empty. Whatever it was, it was fast. Wincing at the sharp pain in your shoulder, you reminded yourself you had to be more careful and avoid taking strong hits like that.

However, you couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. And, as if to affirm that thought as quickly as it came, your sense warned you of something coming at you from behind. Before it could take you by surprise again, you swiftly moved out of the way and shot webs twice to try and pin it down so you could at least take a good look at what you were up against.

“What in the…?” You gasped as you stared at what you’d captured. Before you, a 20-foot-long pale yellow scorpion furiously trashed about as it tried to free itself from your webs. Not even five seconds after you spotted it, the critter broke free of its restraints and disappeared behind another container. Well, reasoning and trying to bring him in peacefully wasn’t going to work with this one. For now, you knew that it was going to try and keep attacking you, so the best you could do for now was to keep an eye on him before he could plunge that hideous stinger through your forehead. Especially since the little shit was remarkably fast. What was that thing Miguel always told you to do?

“No, remember. You’ve got to think further, think two steps ahead,”

“You know, Miguel, repeating that a million times isn’t going to suddenly give me the ability to see ten seconds into the future,” you muttered, taking the hand he reached out to help you get up. With a wince, you placed a hand on your shoulder and rolled it until it popped.

“It’s not about seeing into the future, (Y/N), it’s about finding unprotected spots and patterns,”

“How come outside I’m love, gorgeous or mi chiquita preciosa de ojitos bonitos, but the minute we’re in here I’m back to being (Y/N),”

“First of all, that last one never happened, we agreed on it, I was in…a vulnerable…”

“You were drunk, you can say it, I won’t tell,”

He glared at you in a way you knew meant ‘won’t you?’. Hopefully, he’d never find out you’d told Peter every last detail of his drunken silliness as soon as you had the chance.

“Second of all, here you’re just like anybody else. You mean nothing to me and I mean nothing to you because that’s how the attackers are going to see you, as an obstacle to get out of the way. Now focus. I’m going to attack you again,”

While knowing beforehand he was going to come at you gave you some advantage, you managed to block the blow he launched at your head. Before he could try again, you noticed his next attempt at an attack was leaving his legs completely exposed. Then, you did what Jess had taught you to do whenever you faced somebody taller than you: go for the knees. You crouched and, with a classic foot sweep, managed to make him lose his balance just enough for you to hook your legs on either side of his and take him down.

You were so tired you couldn’t even gloat properly, instead settling for smiling to yourself and releasing a short, triumphant, ‘ha!’ with your last breath before crawling over to him and sitting next to his lying body.

“You know, if I’m supposed to think two movements ahead,” You say, a beckoning look in your eyes, “I think it’s safe to predict you’re going tell me that there’s nothing more you can teach me, and then carry me to your quarters to do absolutely unspeakable things to me,”

Honestly, it had been stupid of you to think he would give up that easily. Not even two seconds later, it was your back that was pressed against the floor as his large frame covered you, and his hand held your wrists on top of your head. Then he leaned in, painfully slowly, until he was close enough for you to feel the heat that radiated from his skin, a low chuckle left his throat.

“Chula, you don’t know half of all the things I can teach you. But this isn’t the place for most of them. Let’s get moving.”

Thankfully, you forced your brain to focus on the matter at hand before it could replay the entire memory.

Two steps ahead (Y/N), come on.

That thing always attacked with the stinger first. Then it would probably try to immobilize you with its pincers. Quickly tracing a plan inside your head, you started to roam the dark warehouse looking for the missing critter, your spider-sense as sharp as ever as you looked behind every crate and container only to find nothing. Maybe it had left the building without you noticing? Outside, the police still remained alert and in wait. There was no way it could have left without being seen.

Fine. If you couldn’t find him, then he could come and find you. Making your way to the center of the empty space, you remained perfectly still and waited for your sense to tell you where the beast was coming from. The wait was short-lived as you felt a sharp wave of shivers running down your right arm, your entire body shifting to face that side just in time to shoot enough web to completely wrap the entire stinger and leave enough web for you to jump and throw over a beam, leaving the scorpion hanging upside down while aggressively pinching the air around him with its pincers. Unwilling to take any risks, you covered them as well. You had to stand there and catch your breath for a few seconds before looking over to your watch to report you’d successfully captured the anomaly. Only then you had the chance to see that you had several missing calls from Peter.

“(Y/N)?” Peter asked when the call went in almost immediately, “Where have you been? I tried calling but you didn’t answer,”

“Yeah, sorry for going AWOL. I’ve been…busy. I caught something back here. I just reported it,” Behind you, you could hear the scorpion still struggling to free itself, “It’s an ugly one, Mayday’s going to love it.”

“(Y/N), listen, I think you should come back here. You and Miguel should try to talk…”

“P.B., I love you but I really don’t want to talk about that right now. Okay? How about you come over here and help me drag this feisty little shit back to the HQ so we can send it home? You won’t believe it; it has to weigh at least…”

When you turned around to proudly stare at your prisoner, you were met with nothing but a lone stinger, eerily dangling from the ceiling. Your proud smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. Before you could open your eyes to say anything else, you found yourself trapped between two cold surfaces that painfully squeezed all the air out of your lungs as you let out a painful yell. You desperately grabbed each side of the pincer, trying to pry them open to release yourself to no avail. With your brain already starting to run low on oxygen, your strength began to fade. You heard Peter questioningly say your name from the device still attached to your wrist, but he sounded as if you’d been submerged underwater. And his voice sounded as if it was further, and further away. You were falling into a deep and dark lake, air deprived and without enough strength to swim to the surface. So you let yourself sink further, close your eyes and let darkness engulf you as you keep going down.

You’d wondered once or twice what would come after life. Since there was no way for you to be certain about anything, you decided to believe what sounded the most comforting. You would wake up in a beautiful place, full of light, that smelled like freshly baked cookies all the time because you would be sitting at a kitchen table with all the people that you lost along the way, and it was time for all of you to have cookies with whatever you wanted to drink, maybe you just hung out in silence, or you would discuss all the wisdom that the act of passing away seemed to come with…the point was that in no scenario did heaven smell like antiseptic.

This discrepancy was what made you start slowly blinking as you furrowed your eyebrows, the intense white light surrounding you making your head spin. Eventually, you were able to discern some shadows that slowly morphed into a familiar face.

“Hey, welcome back,” Jessica gently greeted you from a chair in the corner of the room. The hospital room. Like they’d done hours before when you woke up from your nap, a new wave of unpleasant memories came crashing down once more as you tried to sit up with a worried expression.

“Is…are we both okay?” It wasn’t until you tried to ask that you noticed a certain reluctance at saying the word.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Jess immediately assured you. Then why did she look so troubled?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, rolling her chair closer and grabbing your hand gently, “Honey, of all people you know I would’ve understood,”

“Jess, I’m so scared,” Was all you came up with before shutting your eyes and clamping your lips together to keep the sobs inside, tears already beginning to fall from your cheeks, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this, how am I supposed to do this if I can’t even take down a lousy scorpion without getting myself killed?”

With a reassuring smile, the woman tried to hug you as much as her pregnancy allowed her, comfortingly running one hand down your hair and rubbing your back with the other.

“See? You’re great at this already and your kid isn’t even here,” You sobbed against her shoulder, too exhausted to return the embrace.

“What makes you think you won’t be?” She asked, pulling away to give you some space and much-needed room to breathe.

And you knew the exact reason. It came to you so fast and with such clarity that it scared you. But maybe she would understand that too. However, right as you opened your mouth to speak, a soft click coming from the door interrupted you right before it opened, leaving you completely exposed to the thorough, scrutinizing look of the man that hours ago you thought you’d never lay eyes on again.

You turned at Jess, hoping she’d create an excuse for him to leave you alone. You weren’t done talking to her. You desperately wanted her to stay. However, she’d already turned to look at him and left her chair.

“I’ll give you a moment,” She said and, after gently caressing your shoulder one last time, left the room.

And then there were two.

For the life of you, you couldn’t think of one single thing to say, much less anticipate what his next move would be. Yet, your eyes never left his. Your jaw hurt from how hard you had to clench it to keep yourself from bursting into tears again. Fuck, could the hormones be acting up already? Right when you were starting to wonder if, should neither of you say something, you would just stay there in this staring contest until the end of time, Miguel spoke.

“How long have you known?”

“A day. Or so.” You blurted out so quickly that he wasn’t done speaking when you replied. It wasn’t until his eyes left yours and wandered down that you realized you’d been clutching your pale blue gown the entire time. As you slowly let go of it, you realized your hands were shaking.

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked again, his voice turning one octave higher right in the middle of the question.

“Well, I found out not so long ago, and immediately after I was called here to help so I thought we had bigger problems and this could wait. But then you said we had been a mistake all along so I imagined I was on my own for this one. And I think that pretty much covers it.”

Silently, he took a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” He replied, not looking at you but at an empty spot on the wall, “Back there, when I realized you were gone something didn’t make sense. You’ve pushed back much harder for less important things and now you just turned around and left? And with this, it makes even less sense. Even out of spite, you would’ve told me before leaving.”

You hated how well he knew you, and how right he was. And how what he said didn’t make you angry, but instead make you confront the harrowing confession you’d left unfinished before he walked in.

“What if you were right?” You asked taking a deep, shaky breath, “I didn’t intend for this to happen, you know? It just did. What we had was manageable because at least it was just between us, no third parties affected, if anything went wrong with the timeline and such we could call it off and that was that. But now there was something tangible real coming out of this and I panicked because what if it messed everything up? What if we’d made a mistake? But I just didn’t want to think about it until you sort of confirmed it,”

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry in front of him while having this conversation. You tried to focus on anything else to cope with his seemingly endless silence, anything but his slouching shape next to you. The soft fabric of your sheets, or the faint whirring of the monitor next to you displaying your vitals. Now you focused on your breaths. Long, deep breaths.

“So,” He finally spoke in a hoarse voice you were sure you’d never heard before, and you were so taken aback by it that you turned to look at him before you could stop yourself to find a strange, oddly endearing sight. He was crying. Well, maybe that was a bit of a stretch but there were definitely tears in his eyes and even if he was better at hiding it, you were sure he was struggling to keep them confined there as much as you were. Suddenly self-aware of the change in his voice, he cleared his throat before continuing.

“So, we’re having a baby?”

He sounded so expectant, and yet so afraid of the answer. He was absolutely terrified. You could see it in his eyes. This man, who faced life-risking challenges every day and had seen enough for several lifetimes, had never seemed so frightened. The thought, for some reason, made you laugh as you shuddered when you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Seems like it,” came the reply in such a croaky voice that it left you no choice but to laugh a little bit more.

This time he laughed too, although you could barely catch a glimpse of his smile before being engulfed in a hug that made you wish you weren’t in such a state so you could pull him as close to you as you really wanted. Instead, you settled for resting your forehead against his shoulder as he pulled away enough to plant several small and warm kisses on your temple.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “God, I swear I didn’t mean one single word. Whatever happens next, we’ll deal with it as it comes, I don’t care, right now all I know is none of this would’ve been worth it if it hadn’t brought me here to you,”  

“Hey, don’t get sentimental on me, O’Hara,” you jokingly said, pulling away to be able to look into his eyes, “We’re going to be just fine,”

“I won’t if you keep doing stupid shit like this, (Y/N), ¿qué carajos te pasa? ‘we’re going to be just fine’ Claro, si por tu culpa no me da un infarto primero,“ He scolded you, leaving his seat, “You know you’re benched, right? You’re staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of trouble,”

“What about my dimension? There are plenty of non-interdimensional criminals there desperate to be caught,” You complained.

“Well, I’m afraid the NYPD’s going to have to figure it out for themselves for the next few months. Might even teach them to appreciate you a little more.”

“And if there’s another anomaly?”

“Dios mío, mujer,” He impatiently argued back, “I’ll go then. Or we’ll send somebody else. You’re staying here. Period.”

“Fine,” You huffed, not pleased at all with the order despite knowing you’d been very lucky this time, “But just for three months,”

“Six,” He stubbornly insisted.

“Five, but Peter’s going to be the godfather and you have to tell him.”

A disgruntled sigh echoes throughout the room.

“Fine,”

Taglist: @anywherebuthere @khaleesihavilliard @spookyboogyuniverse @sunshiines-stuff @letharue @withbeautyandrage

[grimm909]

Deep In The Sea - End

I don't have much to say here. I just deeply appreciate all the comments and reblogs! Furthermore, I apologize for the excruciating delay in finishing this fic. I wasn't as excited to continue writing as before, so let's say that because of that the chapter isn't very long. I just wanted to put an end to this soon. 🥺

English is not my native language, so sorry for any errors you may find.

Part 1 and Part 2

WARNINGS: female gender reader, violence, yandere, obsession, non-consensual, mind break, horror, drama, mutilation, mention of pregnancy.

"I don't want to feel good!" You shouted in fury, writhing around to try to free yourself from his grip. However, your attempt proved fruitless. "I want to leave! Leave me alone! You monster!"

"Tsk, tsk." Jade clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You really hurt me with those words." He lamented in a tone of false sadness. However, the creature's heterochromatic eyes, which continued to look at you in an unpleasantly passionate way, were in fact the only true thing about Jade.

"I won't tell anyone about you. I swear!" You tried. Even in a useless and desperate plea, you still tried to fight, even though your only weapons were the insignificant words coming out of your lips.

"Of course you won't tell." He smiled with his teeth exposed. A wicked smile full of unspoken ulterior motives. "After all, you're not leaving here." An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. “I can’t let you go, not now that we’re finally closer than ever, darling.”

“Y-you can’t! I can’t survive in a place like this!” You screamed, as a few more tears fell down your face.

“I know you won’t.” Jade agreed, knowing that you could easily die within a few days in that cave. “But I’ll find a way.” The merman caressed your cheek tenderly, stating so firmly that he would find a solution that made you tremble at the thought of spending the rest of your life in that unhealthy place. Worse still, with him.

“I don’t love you!” An angry scream came out of your throat. However, you didn’t know if you were trying to shake the merman’s feelings or just make him angry enough for him to kill you before he did anything else horrible to you.

"Maybe not now, certainly." Unfortunately, your statement didn't have any kind of desirable effect on the monster. He remained calm as always. As cold as a block of ice. "But you know, I really am a patient merman. So I don't mind waiting as long as it takes until you admit how much you want me." He was definitely crazy! So crazy that he smiled, certain that he would make you fall in love with him. Certain that he would make you become exclusively his.

The merman's mismatched eyes wandered over your naked torso, hovering over your attention-starved breasts, whose nipples were perky from exposure to the cold.

"Ah, what beautiful mounds you have." Jade admired them with visible delight. He held her left nipple with his thumb and index finger, gently pulling it up and then releasing it, showing interest when the flesh moved vaguely up and down due to the action.

You let out a moan at how sensitive your nipples were, regretting it immediately and clamping your lips together to keep from giving the monster any more of that taste of your suffering.

“Oya, what a beautiful sound you just made.” He smiled proudly as if he had done something incredible, assuming that your sweet moan had been of pleasure and not pain.

You prefer not to answer. At this point in the game, wasting your breath on the merman was a huge waste of time and you still had the chance to irritate him. The bloody marks on your arm were a horrible reminder not to exhaust that monster’s patience. At that moment, you were just waiting for the warm embrace of death, because you knew there would be no more chance of escaping or being saved.

Jade wasted no time in wanting to take advantage of every bit of your body, opening his mouth wide and grabbing almost your entire breast. You suck in a breath, taken by surprise by that action, but also afraid that he would bite you again. The merman doesn't do it, but his sharp teeth graze around your areola in a silent threat, while his tongue swirled around your nipple. Jade analyzed you with bicolored eyes, curious about what expression you were making and delighting in the way you tried your best to hold back your moans, with your eyes closed and lips tightly repressed, which periodically opened when you were caught off guard by those teeth biting shallowly into the skin of your breasts. Not enough to bleed, but strong enough to hurt.

It takes a few seconds for him to release your breast with a loud “pop”, only to move his mouth to the other solitary mound. Even though no more protests came out of your mouth, you squirm in disgust and look at the love mark he had left around your areola. You feel disgusted by the large amount of drool that decorated the rest of your breast, running down towards the gap between it and the other mound that Jade was delighting in.

At that point, your throat was already sore from screaming so much, but another cry of pain crossed your lips when your right nipple was attacked with excruciating pain. Sharp shark-like teeth gripped the unprotected spot tightly, only satisfied when the skin gave in to the external aggressor and the blood poured beautifully into the merman's mouth. Jade moaned in satisfaction, sucking on the wound as if she were a greedy baby sucking on her mother's breast milk.

A single tear fell from your eyes, although you couldn't tell if it was from fear or anger. Probably both, judging by your trembling body beneath the merman and how your teeth were grinding in contained hatred, wanting to bite him, hurt him and tear him apart, just as he had done and was doing to you at that moment.

"That hurts…" You let out a pitiful whimper, as more tears fell to adorn your beautiful face.

Even in your best effort to make that creature feel some pity for you, the merman didn't stop sucking on the freshly made wound. However, your words made him look at you again and his eyes met Jade's. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the eye contact, holding your breath in your lungs and turning your head to the side, refusing to look at him any longer.

After a few seconds satisfying of your blood, he stops. The sound of clothes being torn echoes through the cave. You didn't need to be a genius to know that Jade was tearing apart the rest of your uniform, exposing your pelvic region and thighs. You scream and adrenaline immediately runs through your blood, encouraging you to fight to get out of there. However, your struggle is reduced to just screams and physical struggle, which are useless in the face of the monstrous force that continued to squeeze your legs.

Jade ignores your fear, but curls her lips when she realizes that there was another piece of clothing covering her lovely intimacy. He is quick to fix it, tearing the last piece of clothing that protected her from being violated by him.

You let out a squeak, embarrassed and afraid of being even more at the mercy of the merman's cruelties. This situation was beyond strange, it was almost ridiculously comical. You were about to be abused by a mythological creature? How cruel fate was.

“Fufufu, that sure is quite an image.” He admires your completely naked body, bringing his index and middle finger to your intimacy, touching your labia minora and then inserting half of his fingers inside you without any modesty. A painful moan escapes your mouth, unprepared to receive it. “Ah, it's so warm and soft.” Jade admires the heat emanating from your gummy walls, going a little deeper to see how far his fingers could go. “Certainly a good place for our cubs to be comfortable and safe.” This sentence makes you sick and terribly disgusted. How could he say something like that so naturally?

Jade takes his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, tasting your taste with a brief moan of delight.

“A unique taste, indeed,” he says with satisfaction, loosening his grip on your legs and picking you up in his arms as if you weighed no more than a rag doll. The new position established by the merman was to sit on the sandy floor and bring you to his lap, with your back to his chest, your legs spread over Jade’s tail and his arm around your waist, keeping you unable to escape.

You scream when you realize what was right in front of you, poking your belly and staining it with a liquid that looked transparent, yet pearly. A horrible glimpse of Jade’s tapered and monstrous cock, which was about to sweep you off your feet and make you his newest partner for life.

“Please, no…” You beg one last time, your breath caught in your lungs, unable to take your eyes off that hideous thing. “There’s no way it can fit.”

“Don’t worry.” Jade soothes, kissing the top of your head tenderly in a failed attempt to calm you down. “Soon you’ll be molded to my shape.” He smiles, lifting your body and using his right hand to guide the head of his inhuman cock to your unprepared intimacy, rubbing against the entrance and lubricating it with his pre-cum, before sliding into the hole sheltered by the small lips. “Now, let’s consummate our love, shall we?”

Placing his other hand on your waist, Jade grips your body and roughly pushes you down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. A silent scream leaves your throat, which has long since weakened, barely having the strength to continue with your useless protests. Tears adorn your pale cheeks and you refuse to look down, afraid to see how stuffed your pussy must be with that monstrosity inside you.

"It's incredibly hot." The merman praised, a heavy sigh of satisfaction leaving his dark lips. "It's so different from the other females I'm used to." He admitted without qualms, kissing the top of your ear. "You take me so well…" Jade slid one of his webbed hands from your waist to your thighs, distancing it so that the view of your pussy was not completely covered. "Look, you're swallowing almost everything."

Were you a virgin? Oh, well, not that it mattered in the end, since the blood dripping around his cock could be as much because of that as the fact that Jade had broken something inside you. After all, how else did you look so full of his cock? The merman's bulge jutted obscenely into your belly, making you certain that you would probably never return to normal.

“You. Damn. Monster…” In a last spark of resistance, you hiss each word filled with pure hatred and venom.

Jade doesn't say anything and you can't even see his expression to know if your words really affected him in any way. However, he shows that they did when he lifts your body again and then throws it back against his cock in a bestial thrust, making you moan greedily. You really did look like a rag doll or in this case specifically a flesh of light. In either case, you were nothing more than a toy for that sea monster, which he would use and use until he got tired.

“Don't be like that, darling.” Jade laments falsely. “Soon we’ll both start a family and you’ll never have to worry about going back to your old life again.” The merman caresses you in a sickeningly passionate way, holding your chin and forcing your head to the side, in which he leans down and kisses you in a quick brush of lips, thus sealing a deal you never wanted to be a part of. “But until your belly grows…” What an understatement. Your belly was more than full of Jade’s cock and would definitely get much more so as he filled it with his seed.

Without hope of being saved, you brought your hands to your face flooded with tears, uselessly passing them under your opaque orbs, in a foolish attempt to wipe them away. But, unlike what you thought was the solution to the most unimportant of your problems, they didn’t go away. They became angrier. More, incessantly, irritating. Stronger, along with the feelings of fear, sadness and especially anger.

But hey, don’t worry. You would die of cold, hunger or thirst in that place, long before you could even give him your offspring. That was a happy ending for you, wasn't it?

“Let's drown together, yes?"

Thank you for reading this far! If you want to place orders, my message box is always open!

Part 1 and Part 2

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

3/10

W/c: 5.1k

Warning: Domestic violence

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Yes, I have a lot of WIPS sue me!

Natasha grew up in a facility with twenty-three other girls. She worked tirelessly to be the best in her generation. Not because she wanted to but because she had to. She woke up every single day with the same goals in mind. To train, to learn, to fight. She ate with the girls, attended Red Room’s version of schooling with them, and even befriended a few. This didn’t work out in much of the way she wanted. She experienced loss at a young age. To progress, she had to kill the other girls in her class. She had to become numb or she would fall. She went through hell and back just to come out on top. She understands how it feels to be an asset to someone that doesn’t see a person as anything more than that. She understands. She’s lived her version of hell.

As she grew and her life took on different paths so did her mindset. She was taken under Clint’s wing. She became close with him and his wife. Rarely did she ever allow herself to love. With Clint it was easy. He didn’t berate her. He didn’t hurt her. He only pushed her to be the best version of herself that she could be. Which sounds cheesy but it’s helped her immensely. She was always evolving and she could see that now. Each moment in her life changed her for the better or the worse.

This time for Natasha, it was the very moment she picked you up. She didn’t mind the late-night pickup. She didn’t care that you called. She’s used to being able to jump up in a flash. All she wanted was for you to be safe. She wanted Kaia to be safe. The anger coursing through her seeing your face scared her. To see you so exhausted. Bloody and bruised. It was an unimaginable sadness. How could someone do that to a person they claim to love? How could they live with themselves?

It’s a recurring thought that Natasha tries to put to rest. She knows why. She’s seen monsters. She’s watched them with her own eyes commit atrocities you wouldn’t believe. This particular situation put her at a disadvantage. She’s not sure how to help you. She’s not sure if you’ll even want to stay. What she does know is that she needs to make your time here comfortable. The recovery won’t be easy but she has to do something.

Natasha woke up with a purpose. She started her morning routine feeding Liho. She moved around the kitchen with swift steps as she prepared his meal. Next was brushing her teeth and skincare. She doesn’t have some twelve-step routine but she likes giving herself that care. She uses the half bathroom to not disturb you and Kaia. Once she’s done she goes back into the kitchen to go over her next steps.

She opened the refrigerator cursing to herself at finding the shelves bare. It’s only ever been her to step inside of this apartment. She doesn’t have visitors. She doesn’t let people over. She certainly doesn’t tell anyone where she stays. The only one to know the existence of this place is Ricky Mason and maybe Nick Fury. That man had a way of knowing everything. He was almost as good as her. She took a mental note to ask what you liked to eat.

She prepared herself a cup of tea while searching through her drawers for a pen and pad. Once she found a working Inkpen and a blank sheet on the pad she walked over to her couch to sit. She didn’t flinch when Liho jumped to sit on the headrest beside her head. She presses the pen to her lip and thinks about what to get first. She’s never had to shop for anyone else. She’s never had to think about anyone else but herself.

Natasha reaches for her phone only having one person to call.

She presses the phone, bringing it to her ear to listen. It’s 9 am. Laura and Clint will be up. Laura answers the phone on the second ring.

“Natasha?” Laura questions.

“Hey, do you have a second?” Natasha asks.

“Yes, Clint is out with the kids right now. Did you want to speak with him ?”

“No, actually, I wanted your advice.” Natasha stares down at the pad. She scribbles the title “Shopping” at the top of the page. “I have a friend here and I need to do a bit of shopping.”

“Oh, okay.” Laura doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. She’s never known Natasha to have friends outside of her small circle.

“She’s just leaving a tough situation and she has a baby. She’s - Kaia is one I think.” Natasha guesses based on memory. “They don’t have much right now and I wanted to get them started. I guess I just want to know where to start.”

Laura is more than happy to help. She sees her as a younger sister even though they’re only a few years apart. If Natasha is coming to her for advice then it’s something serious. It’s something she cares about.

“Well, first I would check the little one’s diaper size. I doubt she’s potty trained yet,” Laura lists off. Natasha writes it on the pad. She listens to the items as if it’s the most important information. “Then I would go for clothes. I would start with the basics. Onesies, t-shirts, pants. Does she have a jacket or coat? I know it’s getting chilly in New York.”

“No, neither of them did. I don’t think she was able to grab it when I picked them up.” Natasha bites her lip nervously.

“Well they’re both going to need one,” Laura wants to ask questions. She’s curious but she doesn’t want Natasha to shut down. “I would ask her mom but usually I get the kids’ jackets a size bigger for them to grow into. They grow quickly.” Natasha writes this down too. She knows nothing about babies outside of helping with Lila, Cooper, and now Nathaniel.

“What about the food? Can she eat what we eat or does she need special food? She has a few teeth I think.” Natasha sets the pen down. She does remember feeding Kaia the muffin but further than that she’s clueless. “Do you think I’m overdoing it?”

“She’s well over the age to start eating solids so I bet she does,” Laura guesses. “I think you’re a good friend and whomever this person maybe, she is lucky to have you, Natasha. Sounds like she means a lot to you.”

Natasha breathes a sigh of relief. She holds the phone allowing herself to feel whatever it is she’s feeling. She can’t quite describe it.

“They mean a lot to me, Laur,” Natasha admits. “I’ve never.” She doesn’t want to voice her insecurity. She feels she may be way in over her head. What if she can’t give you the full support that you need? What if you decide that this isn’t what you want? She’s not expecting you to jump into a relationship with her. She made that clear last night. Her support isn’t based on contingencies. She’s not that kind of person. She will respect your wishes if you decided to live on your own somewhere. She only wants you safe. Your safety is number one.

“I know, Nat.” Laura empathizes.

“She’s going through something with her boyfriend,” Natasha looks up at the ceiling. She blinks away the tears in her eyes and clears her throat. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I’m just so mad. He hurt her.”

“Oh, Natasha,” Laura says. She listens as Natasha repositions the phone against her ear. “If she came to you then she was confident that you would know what to do. I don’t think she will expect much from you. She just needs support and safety right now.”

Natasha nods before realizing Laura can’t see her.

“It won’t be easy for her. Don’t lose faith.”

“I won’t,” Natasha is sure of it. She’s not going to give up on you. She couldn’t. Not when her heart is in it. It terrifies her. She feels so strongly for you in such a short amount of time. It’s a feeling that sends her flying while also wanting to make her run. She’s not going to run. She won’t do that. “Is there more that I should get? Toys and things like that?”

“Toys, books, blankets. How long do you plan on them staying?”

“For as long as they need,” Natasha replies. She means it.

“Well then, go ahead and grab a pen and paper because you’re going to need a list.”

Natasha picks up the pen again to begin writing down everything Laura relays to her. She didn’t realize taking care of a baby required so much. She’s not clueless. She’s just never had to think about any of this. When she's done talking to Laura she hangs up feeling so much lighter. She makes quick work of opening her laptop and finding the best grocery delivery websites. Then she goes to a baby website. There’s a place that could deliver things today. It takes her over an hour to shop for everything. She gets the basics in hopes to talk with you later about other necessities.

**********

She closes her laptop feeling accomplished. After throwing an extra hefty tip the groceries would be delivered in the next hour. The baby’s clothes and other items would be here around the same time. Now that that’s done she has to find something to occupy herself with. She drinks the rest of her now cool tea before standing to dump it in the kitchen sink. She looks around the room. It’s a bachelorette pad. It’s bare. She doesn’t decorate. It’s not her thing. There are not even pictures on the wall.

Natasha finds herself bored. She doesn’t want to leave you both in the apartment just yet. She would usually be at the tower by now finishing up a workout. Deciding to come to check on you, she walks down the hallway to peek inside. You’re still asleep. You must be pretty exhausted. After the night you’ve had it’s only right for you to rest as much as you can. Natasha is just about to walk back to the living room when a small head lifts from the bed. Kaia pushes herself up onto her knees. She whimpers, unaware of her new surroundings before she finds you a few feet away from her. She taps at your shoulder to no avail.

Natasha debates on whether or not she should take her. Would she cry? Technically she doesn’t even know Natasha. She steps inside of the bedroom, Kaia’s eyes quickly finding hers.

“Hi,” Natasha says softly. Kaia watches as she approaches the bed. She raises her arms to be picked up by Natasha. Another grown-up was good enough. “Your mama is still sleeping. You must be hungry.” Natasha helps the toddler into her arms. She practically melts when Kaia lies her head on her shoulder. Weighting a baby and feeling how real she is. It’s weird, to say the least. There are remnants of sleep as she breathes against Natasha’s neck. “Let’s go find something for you to eat.” Natasha finds it a bit silly to be talking to herself but Kaia seems to be a great listener. She pads out of the bedroom to go to the kitchen. Liho is drinking from his bowl when Kaia spots him. She raises her head, watching him in interest, but making no move to leave Natasha’s arms.

“That’s Liho,” Natasha crouches down to introduce them. “He’s a cat.”

“Cat?” Kaia mimics. She reaches a hand out to pet Liho. Her touch is rough and she grabs at his fur. Natasha raises her hand to free Liho from Kaia’s hold. The cat quickly makes his exit.

“Gentle, baby,” Natasha instructs her.

Kaia wiggles from Natasha’s arms to slide onto the ground. She crawls over to Liho’s water bowl. She immediately smashes her hand into the bowl in an attempt to pour the water into her mouth. Natasha gasps, pulling the bowl away from her and picking Kaia up. Okay, so she had a few things to learn.

“Are you thirsty sweet girl?” Natasha laughs. She sure hopes you won’t be angry at this little mishap. She stands with Kaia to turn to grab a bottle of water in the fridge. She opens it and holds it out to Kaia. Kaia’s arms leave Natasha’s shoulders to take the bottle with both hands. She immediately guzzles down the water, swallowing harshly. Suddenly, she lets go of the bottle prematurely, spilling much of the water on her shirt. She gasps and coughs. Natasha takes the bottle to set it on the counter while patting her back to help her through. Kaia coughs harshly one more time before giving Natasha a surprised look. “Okay, I am so glad I added baby cups to that list.” Natasha shakes her head. Kaia rubs her hand against her belly. She’s not very happy with her messy shirt. Liho makes a reappearance this time to purr against Natasha’s legs.

“Cat!” Kaia calls out to Liho.

“No, no cat, let’s find something to eat.” Natasha finds a small box of cheerios in the cabinets that she can share. She eats them from time to time. Without a proper chair for the girl, she sits at the table with Kaia on her lap. She foregoes milk and places the cheerios in a bowl. She allows Kaia to eat with her hands while she sends a text to Steve and the rest of the team. She’s positive Steve and Sam told everyone else the situation with you. Everyone sends well wishes and hopes to see you soon. Natasha is pulled from her messaging when Kaia holds up a cheerio in the palm of her hand. She places it against Natasha’s lips and the redhead opens her mouth with a smile.

Were kids always this cute?

“That’s for you,” Natasha tells her but Kaia has other plans. In between feeding herself, she will give Natasha a cheerio. Natasha would take it gratefully. She scrolls through her emails while making sure Kaia eats all of her food. Finally, after the better part of an hour, Kaia pushes the plate away. She’s ready to play. There’s a knock at the front door and Natasha knows it’s the delivery. She asked for no contact and as she peeks through the peephole she knows they followed orders. Kaia waits patiently on the kitchen floor as Natasha brings in the bags. She might have gone overboard with the amount of food. Kaia peeks through the bags with new curiosity. She finds a can of food that she tosses on the ground. She enjoys the loud noises.

Natasha takes the can away and replaces it with a wooden spoon for her to smash against the floor. Kaia happily takes it and taps it haphazardly against the cabinets. There’s another knock at the door. Natasha quickly takes the packages and tosses them to the side. She doesn’t want to leave Kaia for too long. Deciding the toddler is occupied for long enough, she sets out on putting the groceries away.

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

When you finally awaken it’s with a stiffness in your back that you find all too familiar. Your lip still feels a bit sore and you could feel nausea at the forefront of your mind. You wait a few seconds to gather yourself before standing from the bed. The only thing on your mind is to pee. You rush to the bathroom to do your business. You can hear a slight banging coming from the front of the apartment. That’s where Kaia must be. Briefly, your mind wonders if this is all a dream. Did you leave? Did you get away? You find the extra toothbrush left for you. You brush your teeth bent over the sink. You don’t want to look. You don’t want to see how bad it is. Looking would only serve as a reminder. Only this serves to be hard when you need to wash your face. You stand straighter to look at yourself. It’s not as bad as you thought. Certainly not something that should have happened. The apple of your cheek is a purplish color but isn’t scary. Your lip is split and you’re hoping with time it heals. You don’t think you need stitches so hopefully, there’s no scar. You don’t know how long you stand there. You just look at yourself wondering how you ever became this person.

Why did you allow him to do that to you? Why weren’t you strong enough? A squeal from the kitchen pulls you from your thoughts. Kaia is depending on you. She’s depending on you to do better and be better. Even if all you want to do is climb back into the bed and hide under the covers you don’t. She needs you.

You leave the bathroom to follow the sounds of the banging. You are a bit surprised to find the endearing scene in front of you.

Natasha is sitting with her back against the cabinets as Kaia plays with pots and pans in front of her. Occasionally she will give a tap much to Kaia’s delight. You watch them with a smile. You glance over to the time on the stove. 11 A.M. You slept for so long. For some reason, you feel like most of your day is wasted. Natasha laughs at something Kaia does.

“What’s all this?” You ask startling them both. You point over to the packages waiting by the front door. Natasha lifts her head, her eyes following your finger, and then back to you.

“They’re supplies,” She says simply.

“Supplies?” You repeat back. You round the counter to Kaia putting the wooden spoon into her mouth again. Natasha quickly takes it from her much to her disappointment.

“For you and Kaia,” Natasha says. Your eyes widen.

“Natasha, no, I can’t pay you back,” You frown.

“You don’t need to,” She shakes her head. “You need things. Besides, I used Tony’s credit card.” She shrugs with a hint of amusement. You find yourself smiling back. It was always fun to use Tony Starks money. You crouch down to sit on your bottom next to Kaia. She looks over to you before continuing to play with the pots.

“Thank you, Nat.” You say. “I take it they know?”

“I had to tell them,” Natasha gauges your reaction. You nod. Of course, she did. “If they’re going to be your support system they had to know a little bit. Only the important details. That you and Kaia got out and now you’re staying with me.”

You think about that. “Thank you.” Natasha doesn’t respond. She would do it all again if you asked.

“Nat,” You run a hand over Kaia’s head smoothing down her hair. “About last night when... I kissed you.” She tilts her head. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to do that. I wasn’t in the right headspace and we’ve never even talked about anything past us. I mean technically I’m still with Keith. Not really. I don’t know. I left and I was here and I was just feeling so many emotions and it wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t trying to repay you with sex. At least, not intentionally. So, in short, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.”

Natasha listens to your rambling so patiently, She lets you get out your thoughts without any judgment. You’re realizing you don’t like that she has such a good poker face. If she was thinking something she doesn’t say it. She simply waits until you’re done.

“First, you didn’t put me in any situation I didn’t want to be in,” Natasha begins. She sits up straighter against the counters. “ I kissed you back. I would think the blame would be more on me for letting it happen when you’re so upset.”

“Nat,” You begin and this time she interrupts.

“I know it’s going to take a while for you to be okay. Let yourself feel everything. It may be confusing. You might even still have feelings for him. Let it happen. I’m right here every step of the way.” She promises.

“Is that fair to you?” You move to bite your lip until you remember the injury. “I’m sitting here crying, bruised, and pregnant with another man’s baby. You’re showing me all of this grace and I don’t deserve it. Why are you being so patient with me?” Your eyes drop to the floor to avoid crying. You’d rather not cry anymore.

“Because you deserve it,” Natasha says firmly. “You deserve patience and kindness. It doesn’t matter what’s fair to me. I’m not going to take advantage of you. Not now and not ever.” You nod.

“Thank you,” You whisper.

“Besides, I am not helping you with the expectation of a relationship.” Natasha asserted. She twirls the spoon around in her hand. “I’m helping you because I care about you. And Kaia.” The silence between the two of you speaks volumes. You’re allowing her words to settle inside of you while she hangs on to her last bit of sanity. She won’t admit it but she’s scared too. She’s terrified of her feelings.

“Your shirt’s all wet,” You notice Kaia’s drenched outfit.

“Yeah we may have had a couple of incidents earlier,” Natasha manages to look guilty.

“It happens, kids are messy.” You say nonchalantly.

“I bought clothes and diapers for her. I hope that’s okay.” Natasha gestures towards the packages.

“It’s fine.”

“Let’s open them,” Natasha stands to grab the first packages for you. She steps over the many pots and pans. Kaia’s eyes follow her with deep interest.

“Do you like Natasha baby bird?” You whisper into her ear. She taps against the pans again and you cringe. Natasha’s neighbors probably wouldn’t be too happy with the noise. Natasha comes back with the first two packages while kicking a box of diapers along the floor. She stops in front of you to open the drawer next to your head. There she finds a box cutter.

“How were you able to get all of this stuff on short notice?”

“I know a guy,” Natasha smirks. She opens the boxes and sets them down between you. “I hope everything fits her. I called in a friend to ask about babies since she has three.” Natasha confesses.

“Well your friend is very good at baby knowledge,” You search through the box. The diaper size is right. “I’m going to go change her quick,” You say while grabbing Kaia. Her shirt is soaked.

“I’m going to put these things away,” Natasha says. “I only have one bedroom so the hall closet will have to do for now.” She begins to put the extras away while leaving out the toys and other necessities she bought. You set Kaia onto a towel on the bed and pull her pants off first. Then you tug the buttons of her onesie. She isn’t much help as you maneuver her around to put on a fresh diaper. The sizing is perfect. Then you grab one of the new t-shirts and a pair of baby sweatpants that are simply adorable. Natasha’s style of choice was cute and it clearly shows that she hand-picked these items.

“Kaia, Mama’s new friend is nice,” You whisper to the toddler. She looks up at you as if she understands. “I know right now I like her. She’s been so helpful. When you meet the team you’ll get to see that they’re all pretty cool people.” Once Kaia is fully dressed you walk back into the living room where Natasha is looking at a giant box. A playpen.

Her hands are on her hips as she sports a look of concentration. How was she going to build this?

“I wouldn’t even bother until later,” You tell her. She drops her hands. She would get it done.

You sit with Kaia on the couch and she follows.

“I made a list of things you needed,” She hands the pen and pad to you. “I don’t know if there’s anything else you need but I figured we could look together.” You look down at the pad. Everything seemed pretty straightforward. “I was wondering about a few important things. Y/n, do you plan on reporting what happened ?” You stop breathing for a second. Kaia wriggles in your arms to be put down. She wants to touch the new toys that are on the floor. You let her go as you’re too busy trying to understand the question.

“Report him?” It feels thick on your tongue. You hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I can’t… I won’t.” Reporting Keith would open up an entirely new can of worms. He’d be in trouble. He’d be so pissed. You don’t want to involve the police in your problems. It’s not worth it.

“Have you thought about that at all?” Natasha dips her head to get you to look at her. You shake your head no. “Y/n, I’m not trying to preach to you but I think it’s something we have to do.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s still out there. He hurt you.”

“He can’t find me,” You say sullenly.

“I know that,” Natasha says. “Sam says it’s important to have a paper trail. For evidence. If he were to try and get custody of Kaia there may be a fight. He could win.”

“Because he’s Keith,” You say. “He has money and good resources and a job. I have none of that. If I report it he’s going to hate me, Natasha. You don’t understand.”

“I do,” Natasha helps to open the toy Kaia brings her. “I understand very well that we could have lost you. I understand that he hurt you and he hurt Kaia. I understand that you are pregnant, Y/n. If you were to go back to him it could be deadly for you and the baby.” Your hand flies to your abdomen.

“I know, I know,” You shake your head. “I know. I just… I don’t want to do that. I don’t want people to know. It’s not. He didn't put me in the hospital. It’s not…”

“How long until he does though?” Natasha isn’t trying to be a bitch. She’s not trying to force you to do something you don’t want. She only wants you to see how serious this situation is.

“Can I think about it?” You look down at your hands. “The rational part of my brain knows what you’re saying. The other part just doesn’t know up from down right now. I didn’t even think I would leave. I never thought I would leave. Can I just have time?”

“Of course, dorogaya.” Natasha says softly.

“You must think I’m stupid.”

“I don’t. I could never.” She moves to close the distance between you. She shows you her hands first before bringing them to your face to wipe your tears away. “None of this is your fault. None of it.” She presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Thank you,” You sigh. Kaia chooses that moment to come to stand between you. She presses her palms against each of your legs to step up on the tip of her toes. She looks at you curiously, noticing the sad look on your face. That’s when you’re reminded why you left. Keith puts his hands on her. Making her cry like that? It’s something you can never forget. “Mama’s okay, baby bird.” Kaia pats your arm and you pick her up. She sits on your lap before turning to Natasha.

“Nat, I don’t think I can have another baby,” You say suddenly. “I never really thought I would get pregnant. I... I don’t know if that’s what I want. We never used protection. He didn’t like it. I just… I never thought I would become this person.”

“What are you thinking?” Natasha asks. She’s still so close that you can smell her soap. It smells fresh and clean.

“I don’t know,” You answer truthfully. “I’m not big on abortion. It’s not. I’m not against it but I just. I don’t know if I could do that. Doesn’t he deserve to know?”

“It’s what you choose,” Natasha presses. “No one else’s opinion matters. Not mine. Not Steve’s. Certainly not Keith’s. It’s your body.”

“When I found out I was devastated,” You rub Kaia’s leg as she takes your left hand into hers. “I couldn't help but think now I was going to be stuck forever. Now I was subjecting another kid to his treatments. Now I’m here and I don’t know. I just… I don’t know how I could ever take care of two babies.”

Natasha doesn’t give her opinion. She doesn’t have one worth sharing. She doesn’t think it’s valuable. She can’t have children. The Red Room made sure that wasn’t a problem for her a long time ago. She’s not going to influence you into doing something you’re unsure of. All she can do is support your decision and be there for you..

“Y/n, I think you should do whatever you feel is best for you and your situation,” She starts.

“It’s crazy,” You wipe a tear away before it can leave your eyes. “For years I’ve only had his opinion. I’ve only done what he wants me to. Now I’m here with this big decision and I don’t know what to do.”

“You will learn again,” Natasha rests her hand on your knee. “You will learn.” Her words feel encouraging and soothing. You would learn how to be human again. You would learn how to think for yourself and do the things in life you wanted. These things took time and probably a lot of therapy. Natasha receives a notification from her phone and she reaches across the coffee table to check it. When she unlocks the phone to view the message she’s frowning.

“Dear God,” She mutters.

“What?” You ask curiously.

She presses play on the video sent to her phone. She doesn’t think she should show this to you.

“Natasha, what?” You ask again.

Finally, she turns the phone towards you. It’s a screen recording of a surveillance camera.

“It’s Keith, he’s outside of the tower.” Natasha turns up the audio on her phone.

“The Avengers are aiding in the kidnapping of my baby,” He yells into the street.

Dear God indeed. What was he doing?

----- > next part

[diagonal-queen]

Can i request Dazai, chuuya and tecchou when they have a nightmare (like their s/o being kidnapped or something similar)

(I want to request for Atsushi but he already suffered too much)

i see your request. and i'm writing atsushi too because i love to be evil and mean >:)

When they have a nightmare about you

♡ pairing: Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, Tecchou Suehiro, Atsushi Nakajima x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: How do these boys behave after waking up from a nightmare where something bad happens to you?

♡ cw: Nightmares, mentions of violence/torture/kidnapping, your faves are very traumatised.

note: I tried to make this one very sad so everyone who reads this please cry when you read it to make me feel good about myself 🤧 apologies for errors, hope you enjoy x

Dazai:

Dazai has lost too many loved ones to handle such a nightmare with any kind of grace. A worse case scenario would be a nightmare in which he is the direct cause for your harm/kidnapping/death, so that's what I'm going with

He's so distressed when he wakes up that he can't move for a minute. He takes a second to come to his senses and realise that it was just a dream.

Dazai turns to you and immediately wakes you up to tell you about it. He doesn't want to let that stuff marinate in his head while he's by himself for too long

You wake up and ask him what the matter is, knowing something is off. This is because usually you're the one who has to wake him up every day. Dazai loves sleeping.

He explains the nightmare to you that he had (in gruesome detail) in a weirdly calm and unexpressive manner- this is what he tends to default to when something distressing happens to him (same)

You can tell that under his demeanour he's actually quite rattled, so you ask him if he's alright and he eventually admits that he fears the possibility that he might hurt you

You wrap your arms around him and tell him that you're not going anywhere and you know that he would never do that. You also tell him how safe you feel around him and how grateful you are for that. Your words really help Dazai feel better :')

After your little talk he kisses you and tells you he loves you too. He holds you in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, and bask in the comfortable loving silence between the two of you until he falls asleep again

Chuuya:

Chuuya likes to be in control, so when he's having a nightmare about you getting in harm's way (something he would kill to prevent), he's shaken up.

He tosses and turns in his sleep to the point that he probably ends up waking you up first, and when you notice this you're the one who shakes him awake

He does awaken eventually, breathing heavily and all that, and when you ask him if he's alright he just pulls you into his arms and squeezes the hell out of you, saying something like 'thank god you're still here'

When you ask him again what's wrong he does explain his nightmare to you, though he has trouble getting the words out because just thinking about it makes him feel horrible

Seeing how distressed he is, you take his hand and reassure him that you know that nothing will ever happen to you if he's there protecting you

He'd try to protest with things like 'But what if-' but you're having NONE of it. You don't let him get a word in while you tell him that you wholeheartedly believe in him and how amazing he is

When you also promise to him that you'll be there to protect him too, he's so touched that he absolutely squeezes you again (keep in mind the poor guy is already tired and emotionally volatile)

He has a hard time getting back to bed after the nightmare, so the two of you stay up for a few hours cuddling and talking about life and stuff. And how much you love one another <3

Tecchou:

Tecchou probably has super vivid dreams wherein he has no idea that they're just dreams, so when he wakes up he's both terrified and exhausted

He lies there for a minute in absolute terror at what he's just seen. You were probably being tortured in his dream (he's seen a lot of that kind of thing before and it would definitely manifest in his dreams)

He eventually sits up and wakes you up to make sure you're all fine and good yourself. When you wake up and ask him what the matter is, he's very vague about it but Tecchou is kind of easy to read

Usually Tecchou appears a little offish and absentminded (plus he's a member of an OP military unit), so it's very jarring to see him appearing truly serious and even afraid.

You need to ask him questions to prompt him to tell you just how he's feeling, and you helping him verbalise his feelings about the nightmare helps him feel a lot better! You kind of bring him back to reality in a way?

You explain to him that in being his partner, it's kind of impossible for any danger to befall you, like ever, and that while you understand that nightmares can be upsetting they're not a reflection of the future or anything

He's very comforted by your presence and certainty, and asks if it's alright if you stay up and talk to him for a little while more. Tecchou likes being very 'in the moment' with you

So he snuggles in your arms and the pair of you lay in bed as you try to take his mind off the nightmare, talking about funny or cute things with him until he eventually falls back asleep

Atsushi:

Atsushi has seen some shit, had some bad nightmares and he's had his friends be kidnapped several times (haven't we all?), but when it comes to you it's somehow a million times worse.

Let's say his nightmare is you being kidnapped by the mafia or something (which is very much a real concern of his and something he's constantly trying to keep from happening)

So when he wakes up in a cold sweat he's immediately making sure you're still there with him. When he sees you sleeping peacefully by his side, he's unbelievably relieved. He might start crying

He'd not want to wake you up and try to get back to bed but it's kind of hard to stay asleep when there's a man cuddling you and also trembling

When you wake up you immediately know something's wrong, and when you ask him he just breaks down and cries into your neck. This unintentionally worries you a lot more and so you're both panicked now

So when he realises this he's like 'Wait no it's fine!' and quickly tells you (in as composed a manner as he can) about the nightmare he had. He looks so upset it's honestly heartbreaking

You cuddle him and tell him that nothing bad is gonna happen to you, that you know if anything happens you, you're gonna be just fine in the end thanks to him and the Agency

He's so thankful for your presence in his life that even if he's fully aware that his fear is a little bit of paranoia, he can't help but fear the hypothetical in which you're taken away from him. Atsushi loves you a lot and it really shows in scenarios like this

would do anything to snuggle with dazai or atsushi :(

[bi-bard]

No Saints Ever Watched Over Me - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: No Saints Ever Watched Over Me

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Sun Summoner!Reader

Word Count: 1,798 words

Warning(s): canon-typical violence

Summary: Kaz held onto the belief that no saints had looked out for him and none were in a rush to rescue him. When forced to face the very saint that he refused to believe in, will Kaz accept that he was wrong or continue on his path of denial and avoidance?

Author's Note: Here's how one piece of dialogue made me want to throw all sorts of canon to the wolves just so this idea could happen.

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

At some point, hiding became as natural as breathing.

My parents taught me to hide before most things.

They were the only ones who knew about my... condition that I hadn't directly told.

They had seen the sunlight that coursed through my veins. The prophecy unfolding in their very home. The future presented to them on a silver platter.

They knew what would happen if I was ever discovered. They never wanted me to hear, but I did. They knew that I would be hunted for the rest of my life. That I would be shoved into harm's way in the name of Ravka. Men would be happy to watch my blood spill for their battles if they were wrapped in the flag of their country.

I was young when a group of men showed up at their door.

My dad took me away. As far away as he could. My mom didn't have a chance.

When he knew that what was happening was inevitable, he told me to run. Run, hide, and never tell anyone about my gift.

I was alone.

I never saw my power as a gift. Especially not after that day. In one swoop, this "gift" had taken everything from me.

And I still had to survive despite that.

I settled in Ketterdam. Alone and terrified. I needed to find work and a place to stay while I was still very young.

Working with Kaz Brekker was an accident more than anything else. It had been a few years since I had seemed to plant my feet on the ground. I had made friends with Jesper, who had offered me a chance to make myself a decent amount of money.

After that, Kaz seemed to come to me for every mission they had. I don't know why. As far as he was able to know, Kaz could have found a hundred people who were just like me.

Granted, I didn't have to keep working with him. I could have taken another job. But I didn't. Working with Kaz just felt right. Working with the Crows felt right.

I was a regular part of the team.

It was nice.

None of them seemed willing to say it out loud but it was like having a family. A real family for the first time in ages.

I kept my... situation private. They didn't truly need to know.

However, I knew that it would be foolish to think that I could hide it from them forever. It did take them longer than

Inej was the first to find out.

Kaz had noticed that something was "off" about me. Something was different. He couldn't figure out what that thing was. And Kaz Brekker hated not knowing everything about a situation.

He sent her to spy on me for the night. Follow me. See who I did business with, who I met for drinks, who I brought home with me (which I never did).

I had been curled at the foot of my bed after a long, exhausting day. I was tired and sad and angry all at the same time. I needed something of comfort. I allowed a ball of sunlight to form in my hand and sit in my palm. The fog and dreariness of Ketterdam didn't allow for one to enjoy a moment in the sunshine, so I had to make my own.

Inej must have caught me just as I was sitting there with it.

Not that she told me.

Instead, she went straight back to Kaz with what she had learned.

I could imagine what his reaction was. The disbelief, the anger at the insistence, and the dismissal of the whole event with some comment about it all being some clever trick on my part.

I hope she asked him what the point of a trick was when I was alone.

I only found out that Inej knew when I was told to go meet Kaz in his office. As I passed the bar, Inej and Jesper watched me go by. I watched Inej's hand move to her forehead and chest. I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment. I hadn't told her anything, so why did she do that?

Kaz was standing behind his desk when I walked in.

"Close the door," he instructed bluntly. I did so.

I walked over to stand across from him, waiting for some indication of what this was all about.

"What are you," he asked.

I paused for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"What are you?" he repeated, putting an emphasis on each word.

"I'm (Y/n), you allow me to work with you because I can fight, and you said that I can be pretty clever-"

"I said what, not who."

"Will you just tell me what this is about," I asked. "I clearly don't know."

"I had Inej follow you last night."

"Kaz!"

"You were hiding something from me," he tried to explain.

"So you sent someone to watch me? That is incredibly invasive!"

"She saw your trick," he continued. "The sunlight in your hand."

I felt frozen. The motion at the bar suddenly made sense to me. Inej was firm in her beliefs. Private, but firm. She saw me and thought that I was the saint that the stories were about.

"How did you do it?"

"I... I just can," I shrugged. "You think it was a trick."

"I know it was a trick," he replied. "The sun summoner wouldn't hide away in Ketterdam."

I took a deep breath. "My parents paid for me to get here. They knew what I was. They knew what would happen if the Grisha got their hands on me. It was meant to protect me. I kept my head down. I stayed quiet. Worked with you for money because it was the safest choice I had at the time."

Kaz didn't speak up. He didn't truly believe me. Not entirely. I wasn't surprised by that. Kaz had trust issues when it came to normal people. Never mind... someone like me.

I took a step away from the desk. I let a ball of sunlight form in my hand.

Kaz slowly walked around the desk. He studied me, stepping in a small circle around me. He was looking for the trick. The effect. Some sign that what Inej had seen was wrong.

He stopped in front of his desk again.

I closed my hand, scuffing out the sunlight.

"You are never to do that unless in the presence of me, Inej, and Jesper. Understood?"

"I know how to hide," I replied. "I've been doing this for a long time now."

He just nodded to me.

I kept to that agreement as best I could. I never showed my gift outside of my room. The only time anyone else saw it was when Inej came by, begging to know if it was all true.

She tried to praise me. Call me a saint.

I didn't let her. I begged her to not see me as a hero because I wasn't one. I had no interest in being one. All I wanted was some semblance of normalcy. She respected that.

My agreement with Kaz didn't crumble until I saw it as absolutely necessary.

He had told me to join him to get through the door of some place.

He had been doing that more and more. Having me work directly by his side. I had no interest in questioning it, but I did notice it.

It had been going well. However, the number of guards had been greatly underestimated.

The only part that I truly remember was one of the guards choking Kaz. His cane had been thrown across the room from him. I didn't have the physical strength to stop the guard. I knew that.

So, as if on instinct, I threw a ball of sunlight at him.

He fell to the ground, allowing Kaz to lean back against the wall and catch his breath.

I ran over to grab his cane. I walked over slowly, holding it out to him. He snatched it from my hand, an angry look taking over his features.

"Are you alright," I asked.

He didn't bother with my question, instead posing one of his own, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That you were about to die."

“You could have gotten yourself killed, hunted! All that you have claimed to have been terrified of!”

"You would truly rather die by the hand of your own stubbornness than ever thank someone for their help," I rolled my eyes.

"You agreed to never use your powers around others! I don't need you to save me!"

I scoffed at him. “Kaz, I understand that you think you’re invincible, but please believe me when I say that you are nowhere close.”

“And you are?” he stepped closer to me.

“Would you like to compare a list of things that I could survive versus what you could survive? I really don’t think you would because you would end up quite embarrassed!”

Kaz’s jaw clenched as he merely continued glaring. As if he were stunned that I had the nerve to yell at him the way I did. To question his power and control and leadership the way I did.

“I hate to tell you this, but you have people who care for you, Kaz Brekker,” I continued. “There are people that actually don’t want you dead. Let them help you. That’s why you have a crew in the first place.”

"Don't claim to be my savior."

"Don't claim that you never need to be saved!"

The silence after that was tense. He was angry and the boss of the whole gang. I was angry and able to scorch the earth beneath his feet.

"We have work to do," I finally muttered, walking around him.

"What happened to keeping your... affliction a secret," he asked as I did so.

I stopped at the door, turning back to him. "If the choice was letting you die or exposing my secret, then the choice would be you. Every single time."

There was a long pause before Kaz spoke up, "Why?"

There was another, even longer pause. "Is it not obvious?"

His face didn't shift. Not at all.

I had some feeling in my chest that he knew the answer to his question long before he asked it. Maybe he just needed the personal confirmation. Maybe he wanted me to say something entirely different so that it would bring some comfort. Allow him some escape route from his own feelings.

"Can we go now," I asked.

He nodded. "Fine."

Kaz may not have believed in saints. But I would like to believe that some part of him believed in me.

And that was enough for me.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters