#because they don't know why you're going away

[plumipal]

The Tattoo (part three)

After scarabias overblot, and seeing what Ace and Deuce were willing to do for you, you were so touched that you decided to get them tattooed on your body as a small heart and a spade. After that chaos ensues-

If you wanna read the whole prolouge, then it's here

Oh poor Idia, where do we even start for him?... poor guy is absolutely shattered as soon as he saw those two tattoos on you through the cameras. He felt his entire reason to live just shatter. He feels his entire world collapsing in on itself. He completely just, breaks down, sobbing to himself on the floor trying to rationalise how the tattoos were not real, to try to keep his sanity in tact.

The days after that disastrous breakdown, he has been stuck in bed, too depressed to frankly do anything but to sulk. He had not eaten, not drank enough, and his personal hygiene is downright awful.

Once Ortho has convinced him to get up because crowley demanded him to actually attend his classes or it's byebye NRC for Idia, his pity for himself has turned into rage. Whenever he sees the dumb duo he can't help but to want to do anything against them, he sure would LOVE to doxx them...

But after some reconciderence from Ortho (statistics show he would be one of the top suspects for it and therefore make the prefect hate him even more (he believes)) he instead chose to take care of himself, putting actual effort in how he looks as to win you over with that. He sure hope it works, please...

Don't think ortho is just hyping up his brother, cuz he is sure helping on the sidelines. Digging up info the students don't want anyone to know abour sure is easy when you have unlimited internet access (and some illegal ways to obtain the info)

That's the easy way of getting students away from you, but getting you trapped up with them is almost just as easy. He starts calling you his siblings as well, subtly telling you how you and idia would be the greatest siblings ever to him, even backing up and glorifying hos brother in your eyes, anything it takes to get you to chose idia.... you will all be a happy family....

Sebek, for once in his life, is stunned to silence. He cant quite grapple the thoughts and feelings swirling within him is making him feel quite sick, making him quiet for the rest of the day..

Once classes has ended, he bolts over to his dorm only to dramatically lock himself in his dorm room and let out the worst crying session ever. He is sobbing,

The whole ordeal and emotions results in him having the need to constantly watch over you, as a way to show that he too can protect you, he can be there for you, just like ace and Deuce, but better! Please, he needed you, he needs you to need him too, please...

Silver don't quite know what to think about this. He cant blame you, the heroic stunts of your friends sure are nice, but why with something so permanent? He could do what they did and so much more for you, give him an opportunity and he will show you.

After "the talk" the four of them had, he has had a hard time sleeping for the first time in his life. He feels exhausted yet can't close his eyes, pictures of you happily being with ace and Deuce clouding his poor exhausted brain. He will take this on the only way he knows, a duel for your love and your hand.

You're not dumb either, you see how tired he had been and the lack of sleep he has been getting, and feeling bad for him you let him sleep on tou if that would help him. He takes this opportunity and sure is greedy with it, wanting more and more sleep time with you. It's one way to claim you, and at the moment it's enough for him, but don't think he won't demand more in the soon future..

Lilia feels heartbroken. First that the prefect, his beloved, has shown this love that he would love to have for someone else (especially two people), it breaks his heart. What breaks his heart even more is how he needs to go against his own sons for his beloved too. But he will do whatever it takes to secure you for himself.

When he meets you after hearing about the tattoo, he tries act as normal as possible, not wanting to scare you away with his desperation. Despite that though, he will also try to advance, because he is NOT losing to all these youngsters, he's old enough to know exactly how to treat someone right. Let him treat your right, please, he begs of you....

Malleus feels like there's a storm inside him, getting worse by every second he thinks about that forsaken tattoo you have. He activately tries to think less about it, not wanting the whole school to be stuck in a storm for weeks, especially when you're situated in that poor awful old and decrepid building. He will try to smite ace and Deuce if he has the choise to though-

After the anger dies down, that's when the sadness flows in. The fact that he was not your favorite, that he was not worth his own tattoo, frankly brings him to tears. He has never been denied something in his life, especially something that he wants so badly. It's a foreign feeling, and a horrible one at that.

He is an attention hungry dragon, give him what he wants and he will give you the world without question. Just, please, give him the love and affection he both crave and deserves...

Chat, im tired. Let me sleep- FINALLY THIS SERIES IS FINISHED! or so I thought- o will focus on other comics/ideas before I come back for the endings tho, because I kinda wanna do other stuff and not just the tattoo shenanigans yknow :) one again huge thanks to @artdolliewishes for lots of support and help lmao

I hope yall enjoyed this shitshow of a series atleast, was lots of fun to create after all

[cuinaminute229]

With death comes life part 2

pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader

a/n: this is sprinkled with angst and fluff

part 1

...

The surrounding trees are all twisted and dead, with heavy vines hanging from branches too high to reach. What you see is a barrier. A makeshift fence that keeps the witches to the road.

The air carries a subtle fog that lingers just out of reach, shrouding the forest of the road into the unknown. Even the leaves that make up the path are all dead. Only magic keeps them vibrant with false life.

You almost feel insulted. 

Nothing here can sustain life. It never will.

The road is an abomination. It shouldn’t exist.

And yet here you are.

When you look up at the sky, a feeling of loss settles in your chest. The sky is not real; the moon is a false imitation, and the stars are all wrong. 

You will never not hate this place. 

The soft whispers of a conversation tug at your attention when you notice the witches at your back are talking about you. With a subtle shift, you slow your steps and listen in. 

They speak so carelessly about your reaction to seeing Agatha, about the anger they saw. About how they could use your emotions to drive a wedge where, unbeknown to them, there is a canyon. 

In the simplest of terms, they want to manipulate you to their advantage because they do not trust Agatha. 

Because you do not trust Agatha. It’s insulting in the most human way possible.

Where on earth did she find these people? Why did she find them?

There’s something you're missing, you just know it.

The moment you hear Rio's name is the moment you turn around, you do not care what they are going to say. Their little conversation ends now. The shift in your momentum is fluid as you turn around mid step, eyes narrow in suspicion. 

You keep your face blank when they all jump in union. The very obvious change of demeanor tells you they did not know you were listening in on them.

You let the silence linger as your eyes scan over the small group. They cling to each other for comfort, but it only takes a moment for you to recognize that their bonds as a coven are new. They are still easy to bend, easy to break.

“You know,” Your voice is gentle, giving nothing of what you feel away for them to see. “To betray one's cover on the road,” 

You spread your hand out to emphasize exactly where you all are. “To break the rules only punishes all.”

“She is the one that tried to cheat!” The pink dressed witch points out like you need to be taught, like she needs to tell you who Agatha Harkness is.

As if you don't know exactly who she is. It's almost laughable how much this witch thinks she knows more than you.

“And now one of you is dead. How tragic.” This is not the first and will not be the last time a witch loses their life on the road. Do they not understand that?

“But that death is not her fault.” This time your voice is cold, stern. It feels like you're scolding children. “You failed as a coven. So do not blame your misgivings as a group on her.”

When only silence becomes their response, you decide to turn back around and continue down the path. The next trial awaits, and you want to get this over with as soon as possible. 

But a voice makes you pause. 

“Why do you hate her?” The unexpected question knocks the air out of your lungs and the world seems to stop. As if everything dead and alive waits for your answer. 

Memories rush forward with such force you wouldn't be surprised if you can never breathe again.

The sight of a never ending forest, a small cottage tucked away from hunters and strangers alike. The laughter of a young boy with Agatha's hair and Rio's smile, a bright yellow flower in his hands.

The years before tragedy felt like a lifetime. 

You were happy. You were loved. 

You want to cry. 

With a small hitch in your breath, you close your eyes and push down the tidal wave of emotions. If you become overwhelmed, the road’s magic will latch onto you like a leech. You can't risk it.

“My reasons are my own. Focus on surviving the road.” Your words are final, empty of the emotions that are battling beneath your heart. You know you can never pick up the pieces of yourself that are broken. 

But for now, you can ignore them.

You will not let them see you like this. Never again will Agatha see this side of you.

When you finally catch up with Rio, you take notice of the house in the distance, the windows lit in a deep orange sunset light. The fog of your surroundings only adds to the ominous look of it.

That must be the next trial.

What catches your attention next isn't Agatha arguing with the boy. It's not the group of three walking over to settle whatever disagreement there is. No, it's the fact that Rio is leaning against a tree, feigning boredom. Her knife in hand, twisting it in her grip as if she's studying the blade.

The leaf in her hair is bright in color, almost like fire, and it stands out against the rich brown of her hair. As if she can sense eyes on her, Rio glances up. Her eyes find you in an instant and you give her a small smile.

She waits as you walk over to her and it's only once you stop in front of her, your back to the others, does she return your smile. She tucks her knife away and holds out her hand, a small flower blooming in her palm. “For you.” 

Your smile turns bittersweet as you reach for the flower, the baby blue petals remind you of a clear afternoon sky. As your fingers touch the stem, it flourishes. Reacting to the caress of your magic that trickles from your fingers. You hold the flower for a moment before tucking it beneath your coat. 

As you look back to Rio she pushes forwards, off the dead tree that she knows you won't touch. When she steps into your space, it feels like you’ve broken the water's surface and can finally breathe again.

“You look filthy.” You tease her before she can notice if anything’s wrong. The dirt that covers her skin and her clothes gives her a rough look, and yet her makeup is as pristine as ever. Her hair looks like she’s just rolled out of bed. There are twigs and leaves and who knows what else hidden in the mess of her hair. 

“Says the one who also had to crawl out of a grave.” Rio responds, leaning just a bit closer when you reach out to brush your fingers through her hair. Her hand settles on your waist with ease, her thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Which I'm assuming is your fault.” You voice your suspicion as you tug on the largest of the leaves you can see in her hair. 

To summon a green witch, let alone any witch to the road, is almost impossible. You don't even know why they tried it in the first place. 

Rio says nothing for a moment. She just lets you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling at the twigs and leaves you find. She licks her lips when you brush your thumb behind her ear, letting out a soft sigh as she closes her eyes.

An annoyed huff and angry footsteps causes you to pull back from her, suddenly self conscious. But Rio's hand catches your wrist before you can step out of her personal space. When she blinks open her eyes to look at you, her brow furrowed slightly. You can't help but give her a reassuring smile. 

Agatha is storming off again. Because of course she is. She will not wait for the two of you.

“Tell me later?” You know this conversation isn't close to over, but right now, time is essential. Rio gives you a small nod and only then do you step away from her.

Finding Agatha is easy. She's at the next trial, waiting for the two of you. The door is decorated with stained glass, the phases of the moon surround the centerpiece, which is the waxing moon. It's almost beautiful if you didn't know that danger lies just behind it.

You feel Rio just behind you, watching the group intently. The graze of her fingers on your back is a welcoming sensation when you realize who’s trial this is.

The protection witch.

With a quick scan, you find her easily, the witch with the red streaks in her hair. She looks the most nervous, hands shoved into her pockets, shoulders hunched.

The teenager is the one to usher her inside, voice reassuring. He calls her Alice and holds his hand out for her and once she takes it; he walks through the door beside her. The other two follow close behind, nerves elevated for what is to come.

When there is only you, Agatha, and Rio left at the door, the tension seems to skyrocket. 

You clench your jaw when she looks at you as if she expects you to go first, but you don't move. The door stays open and no one moves.

When Agatha’s patient wanes, she jerks her head to the door, her voice callous, and yet she can’t look at you when she speaks. “After you.”

It’s only when Rio pushes her knuckles against your lower back do you finally give in. The very moment you walk through the door, you’re blinded by a light as bright as a newborn star. It’s honestly a weak imitation, but that doesn’t mean it can disorient you any less.

As the world around you slowly comes into focus, you notice two things right away. 

One, the air is pungent with magic. It’s so bad you swear you can taste it. Two, when you turn to look at the others, you notice everyone is dressed in seventies fashion attire. 

Glancing down, you see that you too, have also changed outfits. You brush your fingers over the gold embroidered that stands out against the white design of your clothes. Small beads and complex stitches run in calm waves up your sleeves. As you turn your arm to follow the designs, you notice your nails are also painted white. 

“Don’t drink anything. Don’t eat anything. Don’t touch anything.” Alice tells everyone as she glances around the room with a distrust that runs deep. 

“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Rio says as she looks at Alice, brows raised in intrigue. When she catches your gaze, she’s not subtle as she looks you over. She’s adorned in black and gold. The low cut of her blouse catches your attention and you may stare a little too long. Her smile is predatory when she notices you looking. 

“The road isn’t subtle.” Alice mutters, her disdain clear.

You glance around at her words, curious about the history that this trial will bring up.

The room looks like a music lounge studio. Instruments and microphones are set out like they are just waiting to be played. The floor is covered with different rugs; the lights have a certain aesthetic and even the walls are mismatched stones with different things decorating them. 

Your eyes land on the grand piano when everyone gathers around a wall mirror that one of the witches has found, getting a clearer look at the clothes that now fit the aesthetic of this trial. You leave them to their curiosity and walk to the center of the room, a metronome catching your attention from where it sits atop the piano. 

You don’t notice her at first, brow furrowed as you brush your fingers over the edge of the piano lid. You hum a soft lullaby as your fingers tap to the rhythm in your head.

When you see her fingers graze over the piano, you freeze. When she finishes your melody, her beige nails tapping lightly against the polished black case of the piano, you step away.

You look at Agatha like she’s a ghost. 

She’s not—she wasn't—you never told her. Rio doesn’t even know.

It was only for Nicky. It was his song.  

“What are you doing?” You back up when she finally looks up at you. She can’t hide it when her eyes glance over your attire. You know her too well. The way her eyes linger just a little too long, the way she clears her throat before jerking her head back to the piano. She takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders like she’s buying time.

She looks like she wants to say something but stops short. When she reaches for her brooch, finger tapping lightly as if she needs a physical reminder it’s still there, you understand. 

He told her. Of course he did.

Whatever Agatha is trying to accomplish by reminding you of a life you can never get back, you need her to stop.

You can't do this. The emotional whiplash is getting exhausting.

“Why are you here?” She tilts her head to look at you, her expression clouded with suspicion.

“Why are you?” You deflect her easily, asking your own question. To walk the road once and survive is akin to a miracle. Why would she come back here?

“I asked first.” She pushes into your space, eyes narrowed, her tone condescending. When you shift to move away from her, she grabs hold of your wrist. 

You don’t expect what comes next. You have no time to prepare as your magic comes alive with the contact. It’s been so long since she’s touched you that a lifetime couldn’t prepare you for her pain.

The absolute onslaught of unchecked emotions feels like agony. Her touch burns. It’s scolding hot with the centuries of anguish and hatred that Agatha has clung to. It seeps under your skin like a parasite.

You want to scream.

You need her to let go. Right now.

“I am not here for you. I want absolutely nothing to do with you.” Your words are brutal, every ounce of hatred you have ever felt is directed at her. You know you will regret this later but right now you are desperate.

Agatha steps back as if you physically slapped her. As if you ran a knife right through her heart. But she lets go, that's what you needed.

When you move away from her, cradling your wrist close to your chest, she scoffs. 

“And they call me cruel.” Her voice wavers, head turned away so you can not see her vulnerability. Your heart already hurts but you say nothing. 

The churning in your stomach makes you feel sick. You weren't expecting her to touch you. You weren't expecting your magic to respond to her.

Not like this. Not after all this time.

As you look down at your trembling hand, fingers clenching into a fist, you know one thing for certain. You didn’t feel a flicker of magic from her when she touched you. 

Agatha has lost her magic.

[electrosuite]

bathroom sex with eddie munson pls!

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, public sex, descriptive sex, oral sex

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

You weren't sure you'd be able to pull it off, but when you finally convinced Eddie to come with you to your family reunion, you were ecstatic. You hated going to them; you always thought they were stupid and cheesy. But you knew this would be a perfect opportunity to introduce him to your whole family, saving you multiple occasions of meetings.

This year it was at your cousin's house in Carmel, Indiana, which was only about a forty minute drive. Eddie was so nervous to drive that you decided to do it, knowing the route better anyway.

"They're gonna love you."

"No, they're not."

"They're not like most people, y'know. They're not so judgmental."

"You say that."

"I know that. I promise they're gonna love you."

You could tell he still wasn't trusting of that, but you knew your family. And you knew they would love him.

But he mostly kept to himself or you. At one point, your aunt dragged you away to help set up some activity and he gave you a panicked look as you walked off.

When you came back to the table you'd left him at, he was gone. After asking around, you found him standing alone in a corner with a plastic cup full of some kind of soda.

You wrapped your arms around one of his and you could feel anxiety lift from his shoulders.

"Sorry," you said quietly. "She has the grip of an eagle. What are you doing over here?"

He shook his head. "Just standing." He dipped his head down a bit to kiss you.

You smirked at him for a moment, then looked around. When you saw that no one was looking, you grabbed the drink out of Eddie's hand and laid it on the bookshelf next to him.

"What are you-" You interrupted him by pulling him into the bathroom behind him. You locked the door behind you and leaned back against the door. "What are you doing?"

You just looked at him, putting on the face that he knew too well.

His eyes widened and he pointed at you. "I know what you're trying to do."

"What am I trying to do, exactly?" you asked coyly.

"Your family is right outside."

You were silent for a moment, and you could hear loud, muffled music begin to play through speakers all throughout the house.

"I dunno, I doubt they'd be able to even hear us talking."

"I don't wanna fuck up my first impression with your family."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just standing here." You adjusted your position so your hips pressed backwards against the door, accentuating your curves.

He stepped over to you slowly and stopped when he was only a couple of inches from your face.

"Oh, is that all you're doing?"

"All I'm doing."

He sighed teasingly, unable to hold back a smirk.

"You're such a tease."

He kissed you, his hands cupping your face. He kept you pushed against the door for a moment, not waiting long before pulling you by the face to the vanity. He scooped you up onto it and you leaned back against the mirror, his kisses following you.

You hiked your dress up to your hips and pulled your underwear to the side, Eddie crouching down and throwing your legs onto his shoulders. He immediately found your clit with his tongue and you gripped the edge of the sink, trying to be quiet even though the music outside was drowning out your voice.

Honestly, the fact that there were people — all of whom you were related to — that could hear you on the other side of the door was a bit of a turn on for you, and you weren't sure why.

Eddie seemed to be holding back a bit, and you knew why. Normally when he ate you out, he had you screaming just from that. He was incredible with his tongue, able to manipulate that sensitive little bud in ways not even you could. The combination of his tongue swirling and lips sucking was like the most intense vibrator ever, and it was all you wanted most of the time.

This orgasm wasn't even close to as intense as they normally were, because both of you knew that if they were, you'd get caught for sure. But it was still enough that you struggled to stay quiet.

"I don't have a condom with me," he whispered into your neck.

"S'alright." You leaned into his ear. "I wanted you to bust in me anyway."

He gulped at that, never fully getting used to hearing you dirty talk.

"You're disgusting," he joked. "Walking around your family reunion with my cum inside of you?"

"Mmm, yes please."

And with that, he was inside of you. His arms snaked under your knees and pressed them closer to your chest to allow himself to go deeper. He really filled you to your brim, and you didn't think you'd be able to take any more had he been even an inch bigger.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Eddie."

"Yeah?" he breathed. "How good?"

"So fucking good, Eddie. Fuck."

After a few more seconds, he pulled out of you and turned you around so you were facing the mirror.

"Look at yourself getting fucked."

You made eye contact with your reflection, seeing how lust-filled your eyes were. You felt him pull your loose hair into a ponytail with his fist, keeping a tight tension on your scalp. His other hand was on your shoulder, keeping you firmly in place where he wanted you.

You'd never done doggystyle with both of you standing. Usually you were on your knees on the edge of the bed and he was standing on the floor to keep better control, but this — your back arched, your head pulled slightly back, and your tits bouncing in the mirror — this was different.

It was better. Maybe you'd have to incorporate a mirror into sex every time from now on.

"Y/N, I'm already close."

"Already?" you moaned. "What, can't even last three minutes today?"

He yanked you back by your hair, your back flush against his chest. The hand in your hair was now around your neck, his other hand reaching down to finger you.

"Maybe I would if your whole family wasn't outside."

"Turning you on?"

He grunted and laughed as you moaned from the extra friction. It was literal seconds later that he had to clamp his hand on your mouth to keep you from screaming at your second orgasm.

And once it had ended, you felt his warm cum fill your hole, gushing out onto your thighs. That feeling alone could've made you cum again if he hadn't have stopped.

You both stood standing for a moment, your legs trembling slightly.

"Shit," he whispered, pressing kisses to your neck. When he pulled out, you felt cum dripping down your legs and you rushed over to the toilet, cleaning yourself up a bit. "Maybe we should fuck in public more."

[4linos]

breaking the silence

lee know x gn!reader

synopsis: after an argument that involves several tears and hurtful words, your boyfriend gives you the silent treatment.

wc: 2060 (,,> ᴗ <,,)

You had both had a long and tiring day, but it was the silence that had you awake, not the exhaustion. Since the argument earlier in the evening, there had been an unbearable, uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. Really, it had been a dumb approach. It was a small miscommunication that might have been cleared up in a few minutes. Instead, the words had come out of your lips quickly and harshly before you had a chance to think about them, and Minho had snapped, his face tensing in anger. You tried to explain and apologize right away, but he didn't listen. He had turned away without even looking at you, which was an obvious sign that he didn't want to speak with you.

Hours had gone by now, and the tension in the room was intolerable. Your pulse is racing and the knot of anxiety in your chest is getting tighter as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Half expecting him to be there, you reached to his side of the bed, but the room was cold and empty. He was still on the couch. After a moment of hesitation during which you bit your lip, you got up and walked quietly into the living room. With his back to you, Minho sat on the couch and watched the TV without paying much attention. The distance between you two felt like an entire ocean, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Minho," you said softly, your voice tentative. “Please… can we talk?” He didn't answer. The ensuing silence was suffocating. As you waited with your heart pounding faster, he stayed motionless with his back to you and refusing to acknowledge you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you swallowed. "I’m sorry Minho. I didn't mean to upset you. "Look at me, please." Nothing. He didn't appear to have heard you at all. It felt almost like a physical barrier because of how heavy the silence was between you two. You tried "Minho…" once more, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, the words suddenly desperate. "I really apologize. Talk to me, please.”

Still nothing.

A part of you wanted to turn away, to give him the space he so obviously needed, to leave him alone. The other side of you, however, couldn't take it. You felt the weight of the unsaid words weighing down on your chest as the silence tore into you. You felt as though the silence was choking you. Gently resting your trembling hand on the back of the couch, you were almost touching him, but not quite. "Please, Minho. I don’t want to lose you. When you act like this, I'm not sure what to do.” You thought he may finally say something as his shoulders stiffened. But the words that came out of his mouth were quiet, icy, and far away.

Without even looking at you, he murmured, "I don't want to talk right now." His voice was flat, with a hint of concealed rage boiling beneath. The words hurt more than you thought they would. Tears threatened to spill out of your throat, but you fought them back. "Minho, I'm at a loss for what to do. I hate this. I hate the way you're ignoring me. Tell me what's wrong, please.” When his head finally turned, you could see that his eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt, frustration, and possibly a hint of disappointment.

He repeated, "I don't want to talk about it," this time with more firmness and a clenched jaw that made it clear he wasn't going to back down. "I don't feel like doing this at the moment. Leave me alone, please. It felt like a face-slap. Your breath caught in your throat as the hurt of his words sunk deep in your chest. You felt so tiny and unimportant all of a sudden, and the pain was unbearable. You said, your voice a mixture of despair and irritation, "You've been like this all night." "Will you please just let me in? Why are you afraid to just speak to me?”

After a while, Minho straightened his posture and kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "You don't understand, do you?" The bitterness in his voice pierced you like a knife, even though it was quieter now. "You're constantly trying to fix things and restore everything, but sometimes I simply need space. I don't require fixing. I don't need to hear your apologies again. All I need is time.” The tears you were suppressing burned in your eyes. "Minho, I'm not trying to fix you. I'm just… All I want to do is put things right. When you refuse to communicate with me, I'm at a loss on what to do. When you cut me off in this way...”

When his eyes finally met yours, he ran a hand through his hair in irritation, yet there was something cold about them that made your stomach churn. "It's not always your turn to fix things. I need time to reflect sometimes. I need you to leave me alone sometimes.” Your chest tightened under the weight of everything you were suppressing, and the intensity of his remarks caused your heart to shatter. He had never been this detached, so angry, and so unwilling to compromise with you. It seemed like he was getting farther away each time you attempted to close the distance.

You said, "I'm sorry," once more, your voice cracking under the pressure of everything. "Minho, I have no idea how to go about this. All I want is to comprehend. Please don't ignore me. He stayed silent for a long time, and the emptiness between you two felt like an endless ocean that you were unsure how to cross. Then he spoke again, softer but still unpleasant, in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He murmured, "I'm not trying to hurt you," as his eyes briefly met yours before averting them. “But, I'm not sure how to deal with this either. Right now, I'm not sure how to deal with *us*.”

You were left whirling by his quiet, raw words. Even though you were drowning in your own pain, you could sense it seeping from him. Your heart thumping in your chest, you took a step closer. "Please, Minho... I am not planning on leaving. Just don't ignore me. Together, we might resolve this.” He remained silent for quite some time. However, you stayed put. You stayed there, both of you trapped in the limbo of suffering and annoyance, close yet still far away. His hand hesitated as though it would have reached for you, but he stopped.

He sighed at last, his breath trembling, the weight of everything between you two bearing down on him. He made a tiny move, brushing your palm with his, but it was the most subdued apology he could offer. His voice was almost heard, but he was sincere when he said, "I'm sorry." "I just want some time. I'll talk with you when I'm ready. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you nodded. "All right. I'll hold off. Just don't be silent for too long. Minho didn't respond, but you could tell he hadn't actually cut you off—at least not entirely—by the glint of remorse in his eyes. Not forever.

Even if it passed for the time being, the silence between you lingered, serving as a reminder that sometimes the quiet that followed a fight was just as difficult.

—

It seemed like there had been no end to the silence between you and Minho. For days, the room felt heavy, and you both cautiously avoided each other, not knowing how to heal the rift that had developed. However, time was doing its silent magic, and gradually the barriers you had put up between each other started to come down.

It started with the small things.

You noticed that Minho was beginning to leave small signs of himself where he typically didn't. His jacket was carelessly placed on the chair's back, as though he had decided it didn't need to be neatly folded. His shoes kicked off at the door in a hurry, a sign that he was starting to feel like his own home again. Nevertheless, things didn't start to change until you were in the kitchen making coffee one morning. Minho came into the room quietly, his hair a little disheveled from sleep, and he was still dressed in pajama trousers. For a long time, he watched you from the doorframe, his face unreadable.

Although you both understood that the silence between you wouldn't last forever, you kept silent at first. You just continued doing what you were doing because you had to take the initiative and didn't want to push him. He apologized in a low, reluctant voice that sounded almost like he was trying things out. His eyes were on the floor, not looking into your eyes, and his hands were in his pockets. "For everything."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze. It was there. The first break in the silence: the words you've been waiting for. The weight of all that had been left unsaid made your chest tighten as you turned to face him. You started to say, "Minho," but your voice trailed off as your throat filled with emotion. When he finally looked into your eyes, his face softened and he took a step forward. "I should have spoken to you. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that," he added in a remorseful tone. "I simply... I shut you out rather than letting you in because I didn't know how to deal with anything.”

You gave a small shake of your head, not because you didn't comprehend, but rather because the pain and suffering of those silent days remained present. You tried to control your emotions as you whispered, "I know you needed space, Minho." But when you refused to communicate with me, I was at a loss on how to make things better. I was really lost. He took tentative but resolute steps toward you. Almost whispering, he replied, "I don't want you to feel lost." "I apologize for making you feel that way. I just want you to understand that it wasn't about you. I was the one. I've honestly been overwhelmed.

The pain in your chest slowly begins to ease as you finally release a breath you were unaware you were holding. "I get it, Minho. Yes, I do. But if you don't let me in, I can't support. At that moment, he extended his hand and lightly touched yours. The tender touch served as a reminder that you were still there for one another despite the stillness. "I'll try," he answered in a quiet but genuine tone. "I swear. I'll let you in more. I don't want to isolate you again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the relief of hearing him say it. For the first time in days, you put your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug as you moved closer, your heart overflowing with emotion. After a moment of hesitation, Minho wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, allowing you to both feel as though the burden of the last few days had been lifted. It was a subtle acknowledgment of guilt and a subconscious understanding that although things weren't flawless, they could still be fixed.

You muttered, "I'm here, Minho," against his chest. "I'm not leaving either." His voice was muffled as he talked into your hair, holding you closer. “I know. I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter. You do. You always have.”

Even though there was still some tension, hurt, and stillness, it didn't matter just now. The important thing was that you were both prepared to start over and, no matter how long it took, find your way back to one another.

Minho then said, "Let's take it slow," while planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and wearing the smallest of smiles. “But let's do it together.”

From then on, you were aware that you would deal with any challenges together; there would be no more silence, only love, understanding, and patience.

—

nini’s notes 111124

hi everyone! this is my first full length fic & it’s angst! i personally lovee reading angst so i thought i’d try it out, i hope you enjoy & don’t forget to leave any feedback that you may have 🤗🫶

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[entirelysein-e]

『 Faking it 』

☼ synopsis: you fake an orgasm and they notice so they punish you

☼ characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro

☼ wc: 1.0k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, creampie, thigh riding, hair pulling, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), pet names, mean!Toji

☼ notes: once again I am daring you to comment and / or reblog to let me know your thoughts 🫶

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:

✧ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment, despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was doing

✧ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter

✧ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act

✧ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you, but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back

✧ You pout at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head

✧ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he knew

✧ Before you were able to explain yourself to him he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it,”

✧ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now

✧ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer

✧ “Go ahead, love, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips

✧ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted

✧ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:

✧ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it

✧ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice

✧ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked

✧ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face

✧ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm

✧ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release

✧ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas where you needed him so desperately

✧ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but so turned on

✧ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now

✧ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

✧ RIP to your little kitty

✧ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after

✧ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts - so you do it anyways

✧ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandled you into a mating press

✧ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson,” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper

✧ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it

✧ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots which made you lose your mind

✧ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as his degrading words fell from his lips

✧ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful

✧ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't get the satisfaction of being filled by him

✧ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return

✧ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[anyroads]

This is great and all but I need people to understand that it took Republicans almost 3/4 of a CENTURY to undo the labor rights and anti-trust laws FDR and his Congress enacted because they embedded them so well in the country's legal system.

And that was because FDR wasn't just president, he had a Democratic Congress - both House and Senate - to work with.

If you take anything away from this post, I hope it's that the President isn't enough on their own. You need to vote, and you need to vote down ballot. There's another Congressional election in 2 years, as there always is. It will matter if the Senate flips. Right now Trump has the presidency and the Senate and the Supreme Court. And you know what, I know that some people reading this are going to be the ones who don't want their activism to take real effort. No no, listen, I'm not judging you right now - no one knows you're reading this post, no one knows you're the one who loves armchair activism but doesn't want to actually leave the house or interact with people to actually do any of it. You can request a mail-in ballot online. You can vote without ever leaving the house. No one has to know how you vote, or that you voted at all. Burn the little sticker they give you for all I care. And then do some phone banking. You don't have to go door to door, no one has to know you're helping. But phone bank. Every cause you support does phone banking. Environmental orgs, trans support orgs, civil rights orgs, they all host phone banking before elections, where they give you a script and a list of numbers, and all you have to do is make some calls to people who are already in line with that cause and ask them to go vote.

But fucking vote. Because this post? This is a circle jerk hoping for a last ditch effort of a dying flame that we could have ignited more instead of let go out. And a big reason why is that most people on this hellsite have no understanding of basic civics, including how the US government works, let alone even the most recent history of what that government has done. The president isn't enough. Historically their power has been checked by the other two main branches of government (and who knows how that's about to change). The last time the Democrats had a solid hold of two branches of government - the Presidency and Congress - they changed labor laws and enacted anti-trust laws that led to half a century of the middle class expanding and fair enough pay that a kid working a summer job could buy a car. Now Republicans have all three branches of government (basically everything except the House, whose power can barely check the Senate right now) and want to do the exact opposite with their power. Whatever your activism it, it doesn't stop you from voting, and is useless if no one votes.

joe biden, you stupid fuck. listen to me. Crimes are legal for sitting presidents as long as they’re official actions. Listen: Joe. You have one chance

[schoenpepper]

Hellooo

Can I request an x reader who tells them the most confusing stories on purpose? Like, "Have you ever walked on your back and suddenly a train washes up on your shore with a cold and lights on its house?" You can look more of this on tiktok lol

Characters: Trey, Jade, Floyd, Azul, Idia, Rook and Jamil pleasee

What the Fuck

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, rushed kasi nagsasagot ako ng accounting

A/N: I don't have a tikky tok ahahaha I'll just wing it ig. also wdym jade's part is longer no its not

Trey would be confused, but to be honest, there's not too much that can phase him at this point.

He'll look at you with a small, fond smile—ever so compliant to every whimsy.

He won't reply with something just as ridiculous, but he can shove a pastry into your mouth to stop you.

Honestly, it's a good deal.

Jade knows this isn't a normal human thing.

He just doesn't care.

"Oh, is that so? I'm afraid I can't answer your question, seeing as I am but a poor merman ignorant of human ways."

Bulletproof smile.

Whatever you're trying to gain from doing this, he just won't give it to you.

Might reply.

"And if a clownfish suffocated in river water trying to kiss a seagull, how many eggs have been laid in a clutch within a coral reef?"

Floyd has two ways of responding to this. It depends on your luck.

If you're lucky, he'll think you're funny and laugh.

If you're unlucky, you get squeezed because "Ahaha, what nonsense are you muttering about, shrimpy? Should I squeeze it outta ya'?"

Run.

Anyway, if you do this to Floyd, you should have been long prepared to run like your life depends on it. It does.

Azul has a very low tolerance for nonsense.

Even if it is you, he'll likely just smile confusedly and refrain from replying.

If you keep on going, he'll draw up a contract then and there to forbid you from ever talking like that again.

Please stop.

Why are you even doing this?!

Jamil is going crazy. Actually, clinically insane.

Stop. Right now.

Will backhand you to the other side of Scarabia. Again.

He's tired enough, please don't add on to his headaches.

If you catch him when he's sleepy, he'll just look at you in a daze and stop processing your words. Will crash.

Rook smiles.

It is very unsettling.

Will nod along to your words and comment complementary nonsense every once in a while.

"There is beauty in such a labyrinth of words! As if only Ariadne's string itself would be my only salvation."

Freak.

Idia grimaces—there's no way you're hopping on a trend that cringe, right?

...Damn. You actually are.

Er, how close are you with Idia?

Level 1: omfg dude bro get a lyf like rn away from me

Level 2: haha v funny shut up now

Level 3: bb pls stop im going to actually die from cringe

Taglist:

@yummyyummyinmytumny @fsh1 @lemon-koii

[rosenclaws]

Hi!! I’d love to see you do the prompt “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” with Logan! Was thinking of the reader who’s so self loathing of her own powers opening up for the first time towards Logan 🥺

warnings: angst/fluff, Logan has interesting teaching methods lol

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.2k

a/n: So this also...turned into more than a drabble oops. I got carried away I can't help it asdflk;h. Anyways I totally got inspired by ATLA for some of the logan pep talk if u can tell lol.

The mansion was so lonely. It shouldn't be but it is. Especially for you. Brought here as a child you grew up here. You were excited, hopeful that maybe you could start a new life here. But then your powers went haywire.

Just when you thought things could be different your emotions got the better of you. Fire raged through the mansion and you couldn't stop it. The more you panicked the worst it got.

When the flames were put out all you could see was the destruction that ravaged the once spotless mansion. It was an accident. Charles knew it and so did everyone else but that didn't stop the whispers, the fear. You never wanted this.

You did all you could to suppress your powers for years. Leaving the school and never looking back. Years passed and you managed to live a quite life. You went to work and went home. It was a lonely life but you couldn't hurt anyone so it you learned to live it.

Then one day you got a letter from Charles. It was a matter of such importance that you had no choice but to return. It was weird being back.

It was in the dead of the night that you found yourself alone. Just as you remembered. This time wandering through the halls of the mansion. Your fingers traced the familiar paintings and furniture. A frown coming over your face as you trace the faint scorch marks that still remain.

"So those were you." A deep voice startles you.

You feel a light flame escape your fingertips as you shove you cross your arms and hide your hands away. There stands Logan with a cigar in his mouth. You breathe a sigh of relief as you lower your arms.

"Sorry, didn't meant to scare you." He holds out his cigar and you roll your eyes. He's been trying to get you to use your powers, to light his damn cigars because he's too lazy to reach into his own pocket.

"Come on, just a little flame." He says with a smirk.

"Can I help you Logan?" Though you're glaring he can see that small smile.

You and Logan were unlikely friends as you put it. The two of you understood each other. Understood the want to hide away. Don't get close and you won't get hurt. Even with that mantra somehow you were each others exception.

Maybe it was stupid but having Logan was nice. He was nice in his own weird way. Looked out for you, joked with you on the rare occasion. Plus he was easy on the eyes, but you don't let yourself go there. Love...it's just not meant for you. You don't do love and neither does Logan. Even if you want it, even if sometimes he finds his way into your dreams.

"Nope." He gestures for you to follow him so you do. Walking quietly through the halls until he leads you outside. A chill washes over you step outside.

"Just a little light for me sweetheart?" Okay the first time was charming but now it's getting annoying.

"Will you quit it." You snap. Logan raises an eyebrow and you sigh. Sitting down on a bench and looking down at your hands.

"You know I don't use my powers anymore."

"I know."

"So why do you keep asking?" He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Because, I think you're being ridiculous."

"Excuse me?" You scoff. You clench your fists as you glare at Logan.

"So what you burned some wood big deal. That really all it takes for you to run?"

You're hurt and confused where the hell this is coming from. You thought he'd understand you but clearly you were wrong.

"You know what Logan fuck you." You hiss as you stand up.

Logan grabs your wrist before you can walk away and in a fit of anger you push him away. Flames coming out of your hand and hitting him square in the chest. You gasp as his flannel catches fire. Without thinking you press your hand and kill the flame.

"Logan I-"

"Stop." He grabs your wrist and points to an empty fire pit.

"Light it."

"Logan I can't."

"Yes you can sweetheart," He tilts your head towards him. Looking at you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Trust yourself." You take a deep breath and send a fireball into the pit, lighting it up.

Your hand tingles as you use your powers for the first time in a long time. You wait for the other shoe to drop. For the fire to rage past what it's meant to be but it never does. Slowly you hold your hand out focus, the fire slowly gets smaller until it's snuffed out. You stare at your hand in awe. Control. You had control.

"Fire is destruction." Logan interlaces your fingers with his. He's got this smile that you've never really seen before.

"But it's also life, it's beautiful. You're beautiful." You bite your lip as he squeezes your hand. There's a fear that you'll burn him without thinking but he heals. You can't hurt him.

"Why are you helping me?" Why does he care this much? He didn't have to do this, you're not a student and yet here he is. Pushing you past your worries.

"I..." Logan tries to find the words. You're right he doesn't do this but he did for you because, well because..."I love you sweetheart."

Your eyes cloud with tears as you take in his words. He doesn't mean it can he? I mean, it's does he understand what that means. What it means to love you.

“Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it. Please." You don't think you could handle it. He's already got your heart and it won't take much to crush it.

"Are you doubting me? I'm over a hundred years old I know what love feels like." Logan brushes your lips with his thumb, he's not great with words but he knows what he feels. No one can tell him any different.

Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you. He smells like cigar smoke and he tastes like honey. The kiss a little rough, you can tell he's trying to hold back. To be gentle which he's not always great at. You pout when he breaks the kiss, already wanting more.

"Later." He promises after noticing the look on your face.

You walk back through the mansion hand in hand. It's better at this hour, no prying eyes and whispers. For now it's just you and him. Though something does cross your mind as you reach your room.

"Did you...Were you trying to make me mad on purpose?" He smirks and pulls out another cigar from somewhere.

"It worked didn't it?" Unbelievable.

"You're an idiot Logan, what if I couldn't control it? What if I burned down the mansion, again?!" Logan rolls his eyes and kisses you again. Pushing you against the door. Your thoughts turn to mush as he kisses your neck.

"You aren't the monster you think you are." He whispers and you freeze. His words hitting you like a brick. Logan knows what it's like to be a monster, a weapon. He's the monster if anything. But you? You could never be. Not in his eyes.

Before he leaves he hands you his cigar. You shake your head and laugh. Holding out your hand you produce a small flame and he lights his cigar.

"Was all this just so I could give you a light?" You ask teasingly. Logan chuckles and presses another kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely." As much as you want to invite him in your room, you decide to wait. Rushing anything with Logan is the last thing you want. You want the time to be together. A good fire needs to grow before it becomes a roar.

"Goodnight Logan."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Your fingers slowly unlace as he walks away. You don't want him to go, fearing that this is just a one off night. There's no way you can have control so easily but then he looks back at you. He's got this look on his face that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright and for once you believe it.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (10/10)

The Realization

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: prom is coming and so is the end of a stage in your life. surprises and unexpected conversations take place, the question is, are you able to forgive in order to move on?

word count: 9.7k

previous part • series masterlist

this is not a drill, it's really happening!

first of all, i want to apologize for having left this story aside without finishing it. it wasn't something i decided, the writer's block precisely in this fic made me not try anymore for a while, mostly to clear my mind and my ideas, because i had no idea what to write after chapter nine 💀

so I hope you really forgive me and enjoy the last chapter 🥺 it has been an honor to have given you this little fic, I really enjoyed writing it despite the little mental breakdowns I had haha

and just like my other stories, I keep it in my heart and it will always be here for whenever you want to reread (I will make sure to post it in AO3, don't worry) i'm also thinking of doing a poll about the epilogue where you guys will decide if you want one or prefer this ending. let me know after you finish reading the chapter 🤗

enjoy and I look forward to your comments!

It still all feels like a bad dream that you can't wake up from. An unwanted dream. A nightmare.

And every time a new day comes, you feel like a human being who does everything in automatic mode, not because you really want to.

In front of your dad you must pretend that everything is fine, but as soon as you leave home and get to school, you feel a huge weight and a sadness that nothing and no one can take away from you.

You feel the stares of some people on you, if not all of them. But the truth is that you feel so emotionally drained that you don't even pay attention to them.

Many would say that not being accepted to a college doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Nor does it mean that your chances are over because there is still too much time to be able to do everything you want.

And you accept that they are right. All is not lost because you didn't get accepted.

When you were rejected the first time when you applied in conjunction with the scholarship, disillusionment sets in. There is disappointment in yourself for not being enough and there is this question that constantly floats in your mind; why others do and I don't? Why am I not worthy of the same fate as them?

Maybe it's age, but it's inevitable to feel that rejection and failure after having so many plans and having in mind the idea of making your dad proud by telling him that you've been accepted to college.

And not just any college, but Citadel.

But so far, you haven't had the courage to tell him instead that you won't go to any college. You just can't. You don't know what exactly you'll tell him and you don't want to face it yet. You don't want to see his disappointed face so you need more time.

So instead of dreams and aspirations, as well as preparing to live a college life, you prepare and focus on getting a job. You don't see employment as a bad thing either. You just wish you didn't have to focus on it right now.

You haven't talked to Aemond either. You haven't even seen him.

You're in some classes together. But you barely pay attention. Even though you used to notice his presence before and now, unconsciously, you ignore it. Now your mind is too busy with your worries.

It's like being in a disconnect. You are just there, existing. But you barely talk, barely react and barely do. You just want classes to end soon so you can go home.

Of course, he hasn't stopped trying.

He wants to talk to you, but you won't let him. You just don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Even though you feel that emptiness he has left, you immediately force yourself not to think about it.

It's like pain and confusion mixed together, but your pride and that same pain makes you prefer to stay away.

You don't even care anymore what people say about him and you. It's obvious that the two of you are no longer in a 'relationship'. No one knows what happened and neither one of you is clarifying anything.

Which you are grateful for, so as not to feed the topic in the whole school.

Meanwhile, Alysanne and Cregan are almost always around you, trying to cheer you up and make you endure school better. You couldn't be more grateful for both of them either.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

Alysanne asks as the three of you are sitting on a bench in the outside courtyard. On the bench where you and Aemond made the fake relationship contract, precisely. But you try not to focus on that as the three of you eat lunch.

"We're going to the movies, did you forget already?" asks Cregan, confused.

"Huh? This weekend?"

"You forgot," he assures her.

"I didn't forget!" she lies, nervous.

"We agreed to go on Saturday. To the ten o'clock function for the horror movie."

Oh yes, the two of them are dating. Just as you and Aemond have 'broken up', so you try not to feel more distressed about it.

"Do you want to come, Y/N?"

You raise your gaze to Alysanne, confused, who gives you a smile.

"It's a date, isn't it? Just the two of you."

"We'll have more dates," she makes a nonchalant gesture.

Poor Cregan.

"Besides, it would do you good to clear your head a bit. So, what better than going to the movies? Right, Cregan?"

"Yeah, it'll do you good," he nods.

"No, thank you," you say softly, "I don't want to interfere with your dates. Besides, I'm not in the mood to go out. I'd rather stay home."

"You're not going to interfere with anything. Besides, you've stayed home enough days," she reproaches you, "Come on. Even one night. We'll have a great time."

"If you don't want to go to the movies, we can go somewhere else," Cregan proposes.

You grimace slightly.

"No, thank you. I..." you sigh, "I really appreciate it, guys. But I'd rather stay home."

Staying home to look for a proper job and plan to tell your dad you won't be going to college, like you've been doing for the past few days.

"Are you sure?" Alysanne looks at you not entirely convinced.

"Yeah," you shrug, "Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you."

"You should focus on your date," you say as you give Cregan a meaningful look.

"Totally," Cregan nods, "In fact, she'll plan the next date."

"What?" she looks at him in horror.

"What you heard."

"And why me?"

"Because I always do."

Your talk with them doesn't last long as soon the bell rings and they head off to their respective classes, except for you, who has a free hour.

So you stand on the bench alone, just looking outside and nothing else, enjoying your lunch unhurriedly and in peace and quiet.

You let out a long breath and distract yourself for a few moments in your social networks, watching as some people post their reactions from when they were accepted to colleges. Everyone screams, smiles and cries of happiness with their families.

Except for others who quietly show how they were not accepted. But they open more emails and get accepted to other colleges.

You wish you were part of them.

You close those apps and go to Tiktok to distract yourself for a while by watching funny videos or storytimes.

When suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching behind you, which catches your attention. You turn your head, peeking over your shoulder and then you see him, Aemond.

He stops as soon as your eyes look directly into his, as if you've caught him in the act of robbery. Which reveals how very cautious he was being to approach and not scare you.

You see the uncertainty in his gaze, the insecurity and the wariness all at the same time. Which is rare for him, as he doesn't allow himself to look so vulnerable. But you understand why he's this way with you.

First you think about getting up and leaving him with the word in his mouth, like you've been doing lately. But for some reason, it's like finally your mind resigns and your body will force you to stay where you're sitting. And you don't even know why.

Or maybe it's because he's begging you with his gaze not to leave and listen to what he has to say after so many weeks.

Inevitably your nerves invade you and neither he nor you say anything for a few long seconds. He just stands still, as if testing the waters, waiting to see if you will move away from him again attentively.

Then he swallows hard and watches you with a sad but hopeful expression.

“Can I come closer?”

You press your lips together, think about it for a few seconds and finally give him a barely visible nod.

You turn your gaze to the front and begin to put your tupper with food in your backpack. While at the same time Aemond approaches you, cautious but firm. And surprised that you are allowing him to do this.

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your hair, nervous, not knowing why.

Then he steps in front of you and only at that moment, you realize he has a folder in his hand. A folder that he sets down on the table in front of you, with smooth, cautious movements.

“I just came to drop this off for you. Nothing else.”

You raise your gaze to look at it confused for a moment, then look back down at the folder in front of you.

“It's the paperwork you need to submit to finalize the scholarship process,” he says softly, “Classes start in two months and by now you should have received an email from the university with all the information as an incoming student.”

Wait, what?

Your mind immediately questions, as you frown more and feel your heart start to beat too fast.

“What are you talking about?” you ask in a low murmur, not understanding.

And Aemond lets out a long breath.

“I'm keeping my promise.”

His words echo steadily in your mind.

And you dare to raise your gaze to him again, confused, serious and incredulous. And what he does is lower his gaze, sorrowful and unsure. However… he is firm with what he is saying.

Then a tingle begins to run through your hands, at the same time as you feel the nervousness sweep through your body like a wave. You part your lips as you look at the folder in front of you and with trembling hands, you pick it up and open it.

The first thing you see is the university logo and an overwhelming sensation sweeps over your body and mind as you see what appears to be a letter addressed to you.

Miss. Y/N Y/L/N, Faculty of Law. Official documentation for the scholarship process.

You feel the air you were holding in your lungs slowly leave your mouth. And a huge weight that you felt in your chest is lifted, allowing you to rest and breathe properly.

At first, you think your mind is playing a joke on you. You think he's doing it. But… this is real. More real than you can imagine.

“I know I didn't do things the right way…

Aemond begins to speak, noticing the mix of shock and confusion in your gaze, breathing hard through your mouth.

“I know I took you for granted and that I hurt you,” he says softly, “But that was never my intention, Y/N. I-I… I thought I would get everything under control. That I would work it out and get everything done on time. But, it's just… I don't even have justification.”

You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. But you control yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to let his words make you break down in tears.

As if the fact that you have in front of you one of the papers confirming and assuring you that you will finally go to the college of your dreams isn't enough.

“I should have acted sooner and looked for solutions. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. And you don't know how sorry I am,” he says softly and vulnerably, his gaze lowered, ”I also don't expect you to forgive me for keeping a promise and asking for forgiveness. I know I fucked up and things can never go back to the way they were. But I just want you to know…” he takes a moment, "That I really did fall in love with you."

Fuck.

“What I felt for you was real. It was never a game or a pretense. I was just… afraid,” he admits, ”Afraid of fucking up what we had. Afraid it would all fall apart if I told you the truth. But… I ruined everything,” he says with a resigned tone, ”You don't have to talk to me again either if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you the truth and let you know how sorry I am.”

Each word echoes in your mind, with the weight of his regret and his sincerity. You feel the tremble in your body, not helping the fact that you are still staring at the college sheet addressed to your name.

And you hold back, trying to calm the chaos being unleashed inside you by his words.

When he doesn't say anything else, you certainly won't and you both fall silent for a moment, as the weight of his words and the meaning of them fill the space. Until he speaks again.

“I won't bother you anymore,” he moves forward a bit back to the way he came, “Best of luck at Citadel. You deserve it, you really do,” he tells you with a small smile that is sad but genuine at the same time.

Then his figure disappears from your field of vision and you hear him start to walk away. And at that moment, the world seems to stop for you.

Unable to help yourself, you turn your head and watch him walk away with tears in your eyes. There is something in his walk, in that slight slope of his shoulders, that screams the burden he carries. And you don't know why, but… you want to call him, to tell him something that will ease the knot you both feel.

However, you know that won't fix anything.

You feel the air leave you, his words still echoing in your mind. You stare at the folder again, trying to remember what this achievement meant to you before this moment, before he came and stirred all the emotions in you.

You try to be strong, you try not to let this affect you more than it should, you think of the positive. But you can't.

So still in disbelief, excitement, sadness and with all your emotions mixed up, you take your phone, unlock it and open your emails app. And there, your most recent email, you read: Citadel University.

With your hands shaking, you press the email and read in slightly larger letters: Welcome to Citadel University! Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Faculty of Law, Registration number: 31982.

Then, finally, you can't hold back the tears any longer and you put a hand to your mouth, letting them out, with confused and intense feelings coming over you.

Your father's loving and proud words, hugs and kisses make you smile.

It took you four days to finally break the news to him. And seeing him so happy, excited and proud, made you finally stop feeling so bad for even a moment. You also broke the news to Alysanne and Cregan, who were very happy for you.

Neither of them mentioned Aemond, which you appreciated. But there is the clear acknowledgement to him for making this possible.

You obviously left the job search behind and instead started contacting the university. You sent the missing and necessary documents, they sent you information about the scholarship, your schedule, classes and also about your dorm.

It's like finally this void in your chest is being filled as you finally see this all happening. And as you look at the pictures of the university, with old, elegant and modern architecture at the same time, that excitement rises in you.

However, what you feel is not happiness in its entirety.

In fact, you feel in the middle of a crossroads; joy is mixed with sadness. And the satisfaction of fulfilling the dream feels incomplete.

The worst part is that you know why.

But you don't think about it too much either. You don't want to. On the contrary, you force yourself to repeat over and over again that this was the plan all along. You force yourself to enjoy it and get excited.

You force yourself to think that what happened outside of getting into the college of your dreams was for a reason, but in the end you got what you really wanted.

But, deep down inside, you think about how you wish things could have been different.

At the same time, prom is just around the corner.

At first, you thought about not attending, but of course, Alysanne wouldn't let you think about it anymore. She dragged you with her to the dress store and sentenced that it will be a date of three, her, Cregan and you.

You tried to persuade her, to make her understand that Cregan only wants her as his date. But, of course, Cregan as the great friend he also is, told you it would be fun.

Certainly neither he nor you nor Alysanne have ever been on a three-way date and he told you; what better than to try it at the prom?

The prom preparations are done. Now the important thing is to turn in final projects and get rid of all the pending with the professors.

And that's what you're doing now.

With your headphones on and a notebook along with a book on your table, you're about to finish a long, boring project. When you notice how a figure suddenly obscures your workspace and you raise your gaze almost instantly, curious.

Helaena.

You remove your headphones, surprised to see her as she smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” you say to her in a soft tone, putting your project aside for a moment.

“Hi,” she says to you in the same soft tone, ”I… am I interrupting you?”

“Oh no,” you say nonchalantly, “I mean, yes, but I'm just about to finish it anyway. Don't worry.”

She looks at you a little unsure.

“Are you sure? It's just… I don't know,“ she shrugs, 'It's been a while since we last talked and I didn't know if I could come up to you.”

Again you ignore the small sharp pain in your chest at the memory of Aemond and try to look like you're not at all affected by having his sister in front of you.

“Yeah, well…” you try to smile a little, ”Things have been… intense lately.”

She nods as she takes a seat across from you.

“So it's official?” she asks you with a sad tone as she watches you with a sad little smile, “Like, I mean… you and my brother aren't coming back together?”

This time, the sharp pain in your chest is stronger and more persistent. As well as her question hits you like a wave.

How can you tell her that, in reality, everything you and Aemond had was false? That it was all part of an agreement?

The guilt begins to consume you as you see her face full of expectations and the worst thing is that it's not something you should tell her. That should be Aemond. But, still, you feel the urge to cry and you feel the need to finally tell her the truth, for the sake of everyone who made you believe the fake relationship.

“Helaena…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, ”I-I… need to be honest with you.”

You take a breath, expecting the worst and imagining a series of difficult emotions to deal with.

“This whole thing between Aemond and I… it was fake,” you speak fearfully and sorrowfully, ”We were just… pretending for our own convenience. It wasn't…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment heavily, ”It wasn't real.”

You expected surprise, indignation, incredulity, anger, and more, all at the same time. But to your greatest surprise and bewilderment, she doesn't seem remotely surprised. Instead, she just smiles softly at you, full of understanding, as if she's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“I already knew that,” she tells you in a serene tone that disarms you.

You feel your lungs hold all your air and you watch her completely stunned, surprised and confused with your parted lips. Then you blink, processing her words.

“What?”

“Aemond told me everything the moment you set up your rules,” she replies calmly, “The truth is, he never hides anything from me. He can't. So I already knew what you both were doing from the beginning.”

You continue to watch her in shock and disbelief, unable to believe it, trying to understand how she could have kept this to herself so naturally.

And in that moment, with disbelief and surprise beating in your chest, you realize that in every single conversation you had with her, right here at school, at parties, even at that family dinner that ended in disaster thanks to Aegon's drunkenness… she had always known.

“Though I don't always approve of his decisions, I understood why he did it… and why you did too.”

But your mind is still short-circuiting, processing and comprehending.

You relive in your mind every moment you went out of your way to pretend, believing you were fooling everyone, especially her. And yet, there's Helaena, looking at you with an expression of calm and empathy that completely disarms you.

“So you knew?” you are able to formulate in asking in a breathy whisper.

She nods, smiling softly.

“Easy, only I knew.“

“And you're not upset?” you ask confused, still waiting for some sign of reproach.

“Not at all. On the contrary, I'm relieved,” she tells you honestly, ”People made fun of Aemond after Alys. And, well, that left a mark on him. You know what rumors are like here.”

“Oh, believe me I do.”

“And they made him miserable. It also didn't help at all that Alys was his first girlfriend and his first formal relationship but the two of them didn't love each other, it was just obsession and whim,” she says absurdly, "And with you, at least, he got some peace back, even if it was temporary."

“But then…” you look at her blankly, “Why did you ask me if we'll get back together?”

Helaena sighs, her gaze soft but intense.

“Because in the end the two of you really fell in love. I saw you at Dragonstone and it was… too obvious.”

You remain silent, remembering those moments.

Both of you walking through those historical corridors, seeing and learning absolutely everything about old Valyria. Both holding hands, fascinated in the aquarium watching everything around or walking together on the shore of the beach, laughing, exchanging glances, hugging and kissing every now and then that everything felt too sincere to be pretending.

You relived every moment and every detail that you wished you could go back to when everything was fine.

Aemond had been different with you those days, a side of him that you had never seen and had thought only existed because of his performance in the fake relationship you had both agreed to.

But even you, being there, without the pressure to pretend, you felt the barriers fall between the two of you, because it was all real.

“He fell in love with you, Y/N,” Helaena tells you sincerely, “You… you did too?”

You feel a lump form in your throat and you let the question float in the air for a moment. The answer is so clear in your mind that it hurts; and yet, saying it out loud feels like breaking a promise you had made to protect yourself.

“Yes, I did too,” you admit, sadness settling in your chest, "But…" you take a deep breath, watching her, ”What happened with Floris even though it was a mistake… and then, the fact that he didn't tell me the truth about Citadel, it really hurt me.”

Helaena nods softly, not judging you, simply listening to you. And when she speaks, her tone is so serene and understanding that it comforts you.

“My brother has this amazing ability to do things in the worst possible way,” she says with a small resigned smile, ”Floris was a mistake. He was drunk and well, he told me that before that both of you have had a disagreement, although that doesn't justify it, I know. I'm just saying, it really was a mistake.”

Your mind momentarily flashes back to that moment, when you tried to end the fake relationship after the family dinner thing.

“And as for the Citadel thing…” she pauses, searching for the right words, “He freaked out, Y/N. He didn't know how to tell you without ruining everything. And I know that doesn't justify it either, but…” she sighs, ”He was going to do whatever it took to hold up his part of the contract. He just didn't count on our grandfather suddenly getting difficult. Our family is already so fucked up as it is, that was the last thing he expected.”

Her words suddenly make you feel interested and curious about a specific topic you hadn't remembered until now. But Helaena continues to speak and you listen to her.

“Even though his method was disastrous, in his mind, he was protecting you,” she says, ”Again, I'm not justifying it. But I know he was desperate to get you that place at Citadel no matter what because he knew you deserved it. And…” she smiles at you with a gesture of resignation, "I think he loves you enough to do stupidly risky things. Even go against grandfather and act behind his back knowing how much trouble he could get into.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and feel a knot of emotions form in your chest. Everything she's telling you opens a door to feelings you'd tried to repress, to thoughts you'd rather bury.

You take a deep breath, remembering again those days at Dragonstone.

You relive every moment, when words were redundant and the silence between the two of you felt so full of meaning. He was always watching you in a way that seemed to say everything and nothing at the same time. He was slowly revealing that vulnerable part of himself that he seemed to have lost after Alys.

But as much as you want to think straight, your thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the pain of it all consumes you but on the other, there's the certainty of how you feel about him.

Even when you're hurting, you know you can't ignore it.

“I know he's still waiting, deep down, for maybe…” Helaena pauses, “Maybe there's a chance for both of you.”

The expression on her face is so sincere and tender that you find it impossible not to believe her, and the thought fills you with a mixture of relief and pain. Because, despite everything, you still love him, and that truth is impossible to deny.

“I don't know,” you confess, biting your lips and feeling your eyes water, ”I-I…I don't know what to do. I mean, we're already graduating. We'll go to the same college but I doubt we'll see each other, you know? And I just… n-no… I don't know….

“Hey, hey,” Helaena tells you instantly, ”It's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore. I didn't want to overwhelm you or burden you, I just wanted to tell you my opinion and for you to talk to someone in case you needed to,” she tells you softly, comfortingly, ”Still, it's something between the two of you and we can talk about anything else.”

You thank her with a relieved look, her gesture of empathy appearing as she watches you with her soft, understanding expression. And then, she speaks with a more casual tone, changing the subject with a lightness that relieves you a bit.

“You have everything ready for graduation? Are you bringing a date?”

“Hum… yes, I already have everything ready,” you nod, ”And no, I'll go with my two friends. I think you met them, Alysanne and Cregan.”

“Oh yes! I know them,” she says with a smile, ”And I'm going with a friend too. I don't really like the idea of everything being so formal, so going with a friend will make it all more fun.”

Both are silent for a few moments, and although the conversation has taken on a lighter tone, you feel there's still a question trapped in your chest. And at the memory of that day, an impulse prompts you to speak before you can stop yourself.

“Helaena,” you call her softly, "I… can I ask you something?" you ask almost in a whisper, lowering your gaze a little, hesitating.

She watches you curiously and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hum…” you stir in your seat, “That night, at dinner, Aegon said something… about your dad not caring about you. What did he mean by that?”

She immediately looks like she wasn't expecting that question at all, which immediately makes you regret it, but then she softens her whole gaze, not looking at all uncomfortable or upset.

“Oh, well… our dad…” she begins to speak, choosing her words precisely, “Well, he was always very neglectful with us. He always left all the work to mom to take care of us, even when she had to work too so she wasn't totally dependent on him,” she explains, ”It was chaos for a long time. Aegon and I lost years of education because of his lack of commitment.”

“Really?” you look at her attentively and surprised.

“He missed the date to register us for kindergarten in our proper time. He always forgot our birthdays or some important date. But, of course, that never happened to him with our older stepsister, Rhaenyra.”

You remember Aemond mentioning her, though not much.

“And you don't talk to her?”

“Yes, of course,” she says with a small smile, “She was never at blame. In fact, by comparison, she always took us into account and never forgot our existence,” she explains, ”And well, eventually mom divorced him. And the only good thing dad did in the end was to mention us and give us parts of his inheritance in his will.”

Helaena's sincerity and calmness in sharing this about her life surprises you and, at the same time, makes you understand the complicated family history behind them. Now it's no wonder why Aegon was so angry to bring up the subject of parents.

Nor do you ignore the connection you begin to feel towards them, obviously because of your mother and her abandonment.

“It must have been very difficult, for everyone,” you murmur, ”I'm sorry to hear that.”

She nods, though her expression doesn't reflect bitterness, but something akin to mature acceptance.

“Yes, but that made us strong,” she says with a slight smile, "Aegon was the one who resented his absence the most, as you could see," she tells you knowingly, ”You know, being the eldest and all. But we're more… happy now, now that he's gone,” she confesses.

You let out a long breath, watching her with compassion.

“Thank you for telling me. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”

“No, it's fine, it really doesn't affect me,” she assures you softly, ”After that Aegon scene at dinner, it's valid you know. So don't worry.”

You both smile softly at each other, expressions warm and sincere, falling silent. When Helaena stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Well…” she says, letting out a slight sigh, adjusting her backpack, ”I should be going now. I also have projects to finish.”

“Sure,” you nod, ”Thanks for coming and talking to me.”

“Oh, there's nothing to thank you for. Anytime. I'll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You both say goodbye and you watch her walk away in the direction of the main building, her silver hair shining in the sunlight, as you let out a long breath and put your headphones back in.

Prom.

You really don't understand what you're doing here. But it's all Alysanne's doing, like the makeup, hairstyle and dress.

You get out of Cregan's car with a beautiful lilac metallic dress on. Finding it wasn't hard at all, since it was like love at first sight, especially since it has a princess cut. And upon measuring it, Alysanne also decided that it was the one.

The hairstyle was also easy, after all, you didn't want anything too voluminous or too fancy. So a wavy style in your hair with a crown of silver flowers at the crown of your head was the perfect touch.

Alysanne on the other hand chose a beautiful wine colored dress that flatters her at every angle, deciding to gather her hair with two strands falling on either side of her face, making her look absolutely elegant and gorgeous.

And once all three of you are ready, Cregan dressed in an impeccable dark suit, offers you both his arms and you enter the grand ballroom of the luxurious hotel together.

The ballroom is illuminated by the typical disco balls hanging from the high ceiling, casting silver and white sparkles that create an almost magical atmosphere.

The decor is elegant and subtle, with centerpieces of fresh flowers and candles giving each table a touch of romantic charm.

You feel a mixture of nerves and excitement as you enter, as if it's all part of a dream. After all, it is your prom and tonight symbolizes a chapter you are about to close, your high school years.

The dance floor is in the center, surrounded by tables in a circle and already some of the guests have started to dance, getting lost in the rhythm of the soft music that fills the atmosphere thanks to the DJ.

Although not only disco balls light up the place, but also some colored lights to make the atmosphere more colorful.

If someone had told you in your freshman year everything that was going to happen in your final year, you would have laughed out loud and wouldn't have believed it at all, because your life was too boring.

But here you are, with still those events in mind, where at the end of the night, you will put them behind you.

You adjust your lilac dress, whose princess-cut skirt falls in soft layers to the floor. The fabric moves with you, as if it were an extension of your own footsteps, and the color shimmers delicately under the silver lights.

The three of you make your way to one of the tables to take a seat and you take a closer look around you as the decorations and you also see familiar faces of some of your classmates, some laughing in groups and others on the dance floor with their dates.

And Alysanne, excited and obsessed with everything, wants to have memories of the whole night and soon the three of you are taking a long selfie session with her phone.

Cregan complains about too many photos and the laughter of the three fills the air as Alysanne continues to make sure she captures the best shots, changing angles and poses.

Alysanne, with a huge smile, spins around on herself and then grabs your hands to dance with her, laughing every time you both take a step out of rhythm. You can feel her pure happiness, an excitement that doesn't take long to become contagious and where Cregan soon joins in.

The dance floor is filling up and the sparkles of the lights reflecting off everyone's costumes and dresses create an enchanting and magical atmosphere.

The DJ starts mixing more upbeat songs, and you see how everyone is having fun, laughing and dancing.

Immediately this catches Alysanne's attention and she drags the three of you onto the dance floor with infectious laughter. Before you know it, you're in the middle of the dance floor with them, surrounded by movement and music.

The music beats on the floor and vibrates in your chest, and, slowly, you begin to let loose, moving to the beat of the songs as the colored lights swirl above you all.

“I'm going to get a drink!” you let them both know over the music.

You have no idea exactly how much time passes that you find yourself dancing, enjoying the night, the echo of laughter and the warmth of the crowd.

The euphoria makes you forget and enjoy yourself as you feel your throat dry and your feet start to ache, with your body starting to beg for water and a little break.

“Okay!” Cregan nods, throwing you a smile, still dancing with Alysanne.

You smile knowingly, since after all, these two deserve to have their moment, and you walk away towards the table where there are different desserts and the drinks for all the graduates.

You take a bottle of water, and as you drink, the immediate relief makes you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness.

And only at that moment, standing alone and a little apart, you notice the glances of some people around you, mainly girls passing by you and whispering something between them, looking at you out of the corner of their eyes.

Great.

You thought you were past all this but even at prom it doesn't stop.

You take a deep breath and look out onto the dance floor, where you make out Alysanne and Cregan dancing close together, smiling and animated. You certainly don't want to interrupt them and you look around again, trying to distract yourself with anything you can find to rest your feet on.

You try not to make a big deal of it and look back at them for just a few moments with a serious look on your face and again try to focus on regaining your energy, telling yourself that this shouldn't affect you.

You remind yourself that you are here for you and your friends, and that is all that should matter to you.

When your gaze unconsciously focuses on Floris.

With her arm intertwined with a boy, whom you recognize from the lacrosse team, she looks absolutely elegant with a beautiful hairstyle and a gorgeous pink dress.

And as she joins the party, she seems totally focused on enjoying the evening, her expression relaxed and happy.

You look away from her, focused on something else, where your attention slips unintentionally to Alys, surrounded by her friends.

In the distance, suddenly her gaze meets yours and you quickly look away, not knowing why but… you really don't want to deal with or care about those people anymore.

She's wearing dark makeup and a sensual emerald green dress that completely clings to her body and highlights her curves. She looks completely beautiful, but knowing her attitude and behavior, it makes her lose her charm.

You watch Helaena for a few more seconds, her energy lighting up the dance floor, when suddenly, a tall, familiar figure catches your attention on the other side of the room in the crowd.

Instead, you focus on Helaena, who you find among all the people dancing, getting carried away by the atmosphere and in the company of the friend who told you.

Her silver hair is swaying to the music and she shines in the middle of everyone in that beautiful sky blue dress and gold accessories, looking absolutely gorgeous.

Aemond is standing a few feet away, talking to Aegon, both looking absolutely handsome for the evening. Then, the atmosphere around you seems to fade a bit and he's the only one who catches your eye in the middle of the crowd.

And that mixture of emotions about him rises in your chest again.

You take a closer look at who is around him and it is only Aegon. You don't see any girl hanging on his arm or anything, so apparently he has come unaccompanied, just like you.

He is dressed in a dark suit that highlights his slender figure and impeccable posture, just like Aegon. The silver light of the disc balls bring out his silver hair and his face so perfectly detailed, giving it a glow that is almost unreal to you.

Your gaze lingers on him longer than you had anticipated. From a distance, you can notice the lack of expressions on his face and the small twitch of his lips as he speaks to Aegon, looking around him without really showing any emotion.

That eye contact takes the air out of you. The memory of all the things you shared, the conversations, the looks, the touching and kissing… it all comes over you.

And at that very moment, as if sensing the weight of your attention, Aemond looks up and sees you beyond the crowd, apart and alone. The visual connection is instantaneous, almost electric, and suddenly you feel all the people and bustle around you fade away.

You can't deny the attraction and deep affection that, even now, beat intensely in your chest. And, for an instant, you wonder if he too feels the same mix of nostalgia and sadness in the midst of it all.

You notice how he looks you up and down, lingering on every detail of what you're wearing today, his eyes shining, filled with a kind of wary hope and longing, completely stealing your breath.

Then, his body language tells you he's getting ready to move. Coming at you, with her determined gaze.

Oh God.

A sense of panic invades every part of your body. And before he can do anything, you look away and quickly make your way to the dance floor, blending into the crowd, heading towards your friends.

The music booms in your ears and your thoughts are in complete chaos, hitting you one after the other.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tell yourself that you just want to enjoy the night, to stop thinking about him and what was, even if it's only for a few hours.

So time passes, the energy of the dance becomes more relaxed, and though you manage to avoid crossing paths directly with Aemond, his presence seems to haunt your mind like a lingering ghost, one that doesn't dissipate with the music or the bright lights.

You look around from time to time, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that he also seems to avoid being too close to you, although you can't help thinking that maybe he is also looking for you in the crowd, as you are looking for him.

Until, finally, the atmosphere immediately changes.

The lights dim and the silver and warm tones transform the room into an intimate place. Couples begin to approach the dance floor, holding hands, to dance to the slow songs. And you decide it's the perfect time to take a break.

You smile at Cregan and Alysanne, giving them another moment again, feeling a twinge of tenderness and, at the same time, unexpected loneliness.

You take a seat at one of the nearby tables, watching as the dance floor fills with couples slowly swaying to the music.

Dresses and suits intertwine, and for a moment, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of the atmosphere, allowing yourself to feel invisible in the midst of all that harmony.

You watch Floris dancing with that boy, Alysanne with Cregan of course, and Helaena dancing with her friend, both with amused smiles and talking softly without taking the slow dance so seriously. You also see Aegon dancing very close with a girl.

And as your eyes wander around the dance floor, your gaze focuses again on his figure, which seems just as lonely as yours.

A few tables away, Aemond sits alone, surveying the dance floor with an expression you fail to fully decipher. His fingers drum on the rim of his glass, and, for a moment, he seems lost in his own thoughts. He looks calm, almost vulnerable.

You stare at him longer than you think and sigh, averting your gaze, and as the seconds pass, the urge to stand still and do nothing begins to fade.

You bite the inside of your cheek and begin to move your foot up and down rapidly, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast. You watch all the people dancing again, hesitating.

Then you let out a long breath and without knowing exactly why, you take a deep breath and stand up. With slow steps, a momentum and a calmness you try to maintain, you head towards him.

As you get closer, you notice how his gaze, which was lost on the dance floor, suddenly focuses on you, noticing before out of the corner of his eye your approaching figure. Surprise and bewilderment mixed with something else appears in his gaze and you stop in front of him, nervous but determined.

Then neither of you say anything for a few moments. The same nerves make you unable to speak and the two of you just stand there, watching each other.

You feel how some people around you suddenly have their attention focused on both of you, waiting for what you will do, but you don't even pay attention to them. You just focus completely on him.

Until you sigh.

"Do you dance?" you ask softly and nervous.

The words seem to break the spell, and Aemond blinks, clearly surprised and somehow confused.

You watch the expression on his face, as if he's processing every word you've just said, looking for some hint of doubt or change of heart in your expression.

"S-sure," he says still confused, not expecting this at all.

There's a mix of emotions in his eyes, confusion, surprise and nervousness, something you wouldn't have expected to see in him. And you, not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, extend your hand to him.

He watches your face attentively and then your hand, still surprised, to finally take it gently. His fingers intertwine with yours, sending an electricity throughout your body through his touch as he stands up.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart beating like crazy and nervousness invading your whole system. And without another word, you both head for the dance floor.

Then, everything around you fades away, the murmurs and laughter, even the music itself becomes a distant whisper, and only he remains, next to you.

He places a hand on your waist, his touch delicate, as if he doesn't want to do anything that could break this fragile instant. You take his other hand, intertwining it with yours and as you both begin to move to the rhythm of the music, you feel how a mixture of emotions floods each of your senses.

Aemond watches you, his eyes fixed on yours and with a nervous little smile on his lips, as if he can't believe this is really happening.

The music moves forward, slow, allowing you to glide in front of each other. As his steps synchronize with yours, the movements become smooth and natural.

And in a moment you realize that you both are completely absorbed in each other, as if nothing and no one could interrupt this bubble that surrounds you.

Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice barely audible over the music and shy, watching you with a gleam in his eye.

"You look beautiful."

He says to you, his words so sincere and emotionally charged that you feel a surge of warmth wash over you.

You wish his words didn't make you melt. But they do. And everything about him, every gesture, his closeness, the firm, protective touch of his hand on your waist, the way he holds you, as if you were something precious and delicate, envelops and intoxicates you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a soft smile appear on your lips, "You too... you look very handsome."

He smiles, marking the dimples on either side of his cheeks.

"I wasn't expecting you to come over," he admits, his eyes revealing something between vulnerability and surprise.

The tone of his voice, so soft and honest, makes you feel a warmth you haven't experienced in a long time.

"I didn't know I would," you reply with a barely perceptible smile, "But I thought, maybe... I don't want to spend the night running away," you confess.

He nods, not looking away.

"I didn't want it to be like that either."

His hand on your waist pulls you slightly closer to him with a firm movement and the slight brush makes you aware of the closeness between the two of you.

You feel your thoughts cloud over and you let yourself become more enveloped by him, unable to help it.

His chin brushes your forehead and you feel that at any moment your heart will jump out of your chest. It's an insistent, powerful beat that seems to resonate with every breath you take at his side.

Then, Aemond lowers his voice, his tone becoming softer, almost melancholy, as if his words are a secret shared only between the two of you.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know? When I gave you the folder.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know, when I gave you the folder," he confesses, with a certain melancholy tone, "But I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you that and I really didn't want to hurt you anymore."

The sincerity in his tone pierces you, and you feel your own barriers begin to crumble. You listen to him with your heart pounding, absorbing every word.

Aemond sighs and his fingers tighten slightly at your waist.

"And a moment ago, when I saw you so perfect and so beautiful in this dress... I realized how much I wished I had walked through those doors with you on my arm," he says with a longing and sadness.

The music continues to envelop you and you feel his confession reverberate through you, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.

The strength of his words, of the connection that has been created between the two of you in the middle of this song, makes the air seem thick and charged with meanings that don't need to be explained.

Then you raise your gaze to him and you both stare at each other in silence, where your words seem to get caught in your throat.

His eyes roam over your face, as if he wants to remember every detail, as if he wants to take this moment with him. There is a sadness and a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before, and it makes something in your chest tighten.

And again his voice breaks through the soft silence that envelops you.

"I'm sorry... for everything," he says barely a whisper, laden with a sincerity that resonates deeply.

His fingers trace slow circles on your back, small gestures that seem to try to comfort you and to comfort him too. The contact between the two of you is firm and warm, and yet, you feel as if Aemond fears that at any moment this could disappear.

For a moment, the music seems to fade, leaving only your heartbeat and the echo of his voice in the air.

You feel the urge to speak, to say something that would ease the vulnerability on his face, but you find it difficult to organize your thoughts.

Instead, you opt for a simple but meaningful gesture. You propel yourself a little towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, then rest your head on his chest and gently inhale his expensive cologne, being comforting enough for you.

"It's okay," you murmur.

He lets out a sigh of relief, mixed with longing and makes his grip on your waist tighter, not wanting to let go. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head, resting his head on yours as you both continue to sway gently to the music.

"Thank you for giving me this dance," he murmurs.

You place a soft, small smile on your lips, then raise your gaze to his, watching him with nothing but fondness.

He continues to watch you with that softness and one of his hands goes up to your cheek. In a delicate, almost fearful touch, his thumb runs over your skin in a gesture that is both protective and vulnerable.

Then he rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes, as you lean into him.

You both fall silent, letting the slow rhythm of the music carry you away, allowing the moment to linger, in a fragile and honest peace.

You feel that you could stay like this, in this bubble of time and silence, without the need for words, because, in this instant, you both understand what has been said and what doesn't need to be said.

The song changes to another slow one and you both lose yourselves in the moment, enjoying it, not wanting it to end.

Time seems to stand still as you dance together, moving slowly and leisurely, as if nothing and no one else exists. The sounds of the party fade around you, leaving only the beating of your hearts and the faint brush of your breaths.

Your eyes close as you let go, feeling his hand on your back and the warmth his body gives off, so close and so full of meaning.

You both breathe in sync, your foreheads resting against each other, your eyes closed as the moment stretches out and becomes more than just a dance.

This instant is a truce, a refuge where everything else, the doubts, the pain, the past, is suspended and what follows is moving forward.

"You've got everything ready to go to college?"

His voice breaks the silence softly, barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb the peace around you both.

"Yeah," you murmur, nodding.

"What are you traveling there on?"

"Well, I was checking with my dad about bus and plane ticket prices. But I still haven't made up my mind," you admit, remembering discussions about which was the safest and cheapest option.

Aemond nods, thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, he speaks with calm assurance.

"I can take you."

You look at him instantly surprised, definitely not expecting that.

"What?"

"I can take you," he repeats, sure of his words, "Well, sure, if you want," he hastens to clarify, "After all, we're going to the same place and I'll make the trip in my car," he explains, "There's plenty of room for your bags along with mine and so you won't have to spend on a ticket. Besides, it would be safer and I think, I don't know, you'd be more comfortable."

You remain silent, trying to assimilate what he has just said. There is something in his words, in the slow and sincere tone, that strikes a deep chord in you.

The idea of making the trip together, of sharing that important moment of departure, of having one last time alone before facing a new life, awakens a mix of emotions that are difficult to describe.

He lowers his gaze for a moment, nervous, clarifying in a low voice.

"It's just a suggestion... something I thought might make things easier for you. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Your heart pounds, and somehow, the simplicity of his offer, the naturalness with which he cares for you, causes a warm surge of gratitude and affection to wash over you.

"Can you really do that for me?" you ask quietly, with a little smile you can't help.

"Sure," he says absurdly softly, as if it weren't obvious, "But only if you want me to. I don't want to force you. It's just an option."

You look up at him, holding his gaze for a second that seems like forever, and nod slowly, allowing the feeling of relief and closeness to wash over you.

"I'd love to," you whisper, your voice barely a murmur, "Thank you."

The shadow of a smile tugs at his lips, and you can see the relief in his expression.

"No need to thanks."

Without another word, Aemond pulls you a little closer to him and again the two of you bring your foreheads together, letting the moment lengthen as the music changes to another slow rhythm.

You both remain like that, moving in silence and enjoying the moment, spending the last moment of your high school lives together, to start college together.

"Are you ready?"

Aemond watches you from the driver's seat, his hands resting calmly on the steering wheel with a small smile on his face.

The car is already loaded with suitcases for both of you and you nod, taking a deep breath to calm the emotions fluttering in your chest.

The thought of heading off together towards this new stage causes a mixture of nerves and excitement to wash over you, though a part of you also feels comforted by Aemond's presence at your side.

"Yes," you reply, adjusting your belt.

You watch him and he gives you one last knowing look before putting the car in move.

Saying goodbye to your dad was difficult, but it was something you were both already preparing for and you knew that moment would come.

Besides, he met Aemond, as your friend who will do you the favor of driving you to college and nothing more. And your dad felt safer with that instead of taking the plane or bus alone.

Especially after Aemond promised him countless times that he would take care of you at all times.

The road is serene at first, and Aemond turns on the radio, letting a soft melody fill the comfortable silence between them.

The roads stretch out in front of you, long and exciting, as the landscape changes shape and the kilometers pass, leaving behind the city where you experienced so much.

From time to time, you exchange glances, small comments about the places you see and the expectations each has for the university.

Aemond seems especially careful, attentive to every sign on the road and every change in your expression, as if he wants to make sure you are comfortable and at ease.

And he especially notices a change in your expression.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks you, his voice low but close, filling the space in a comforting way.

You watch him and after some hesitation, you shrug.

"I guess it makes me a little nervous not knowing what to expect," you admit, "This whole new stage... the idea of being alone in a new place."

Aemond nods, understanding what you mean, his eyes fixed on the road.

"I guess it's normal," he tells you softly, "It's almost obligatory to feel this way, but, for what it's worth... you won't be completely alone."

His gaze meets yours for a second before he turns back to the road.

"I'm going to be around if at any time you need anything or anything happens, anything at all."

You feel a warmth settle in your chest, and a part of your nerves seem to fade. The idea of him being there, close by, offering you that closeness, gives you a strange sense of relief.

"Thank you, Aemond," you murmur with a small smile.

He smiles, marking a dimple in his cheek, and turns his eyes to the front.

The ride continues, where the atmosphere in the car becomes more and more comfortable, chatting about small details, expectations, and the occasional joke that makes you both laugh comfortably.

And finally, as the two enter the town of Oldtown and the university looms in the distance, Aemond slows down, looking at the campus that would soon become his home.

"There it is," he says, a slight excitement in his voice.

The same excitement rubs off on you and excitedly, you take his hand, intertwining it with yours, excited and hopeful.

Hopeful that all that is to come for you in this place are good and promising things. As well as hopeful for Aemond and for you.

series taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @queen-of-elves

[sapphire-weapon]

god this is such a braindead fucking take and is emblematic of everything that's wrong with radical lefties.

there's a golden rule: "don't attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence."

OP is assuming that everyone in society is operating under the same baseline of education and social understanding -- that all people are aware of underlying social power structures and also understand them with deep nuance.

but that's not true. especially with the way that the US education system has been gutted ever since the reagan administration.

OP is also conflating the end result with the cause.

men aren't going into society being conditioned to want to own women. men are going into society being conditioned to want to be successful -- and when they're not successful, for whatever reason, the left still stands back and says "shut up men, you already have everything you could ever need, you're already successful, you've been successful" even though his personal experience and bank account and rising debt and miserable job and shitty love life all run directly counter to that narrative. then the redpill community swoops in and goes "hey lil bro, i know you're hurting, let me tell you why and who's standing in your way."

it's the simple fucking math of the left saying "your pain isn't real" and the right saying "your pain is real, and i want to help it hurt less."

the left's problem is that they write off lived experience and only focus on systemic imbalances. but just because the systems are inherently unfair and stacked in one group's favor does not mean that all -- or even most -- of that group actually benefits from it. and when we constantly tell men -- who are going through the same kind of hardships as women and transpeople in terms of economic instability, health issues, mental health issues, possibly abusive families, etc. -- that they're fine and are, in fact, the problem, you lose those people.

it's kind of crazy that we've somehow lost the plot on the simple fact that, when people are disenfranchised, they form communities and get support from those communities. and by pushing men away from the left, their supportive community becomes redpill fuckheads like andrew tate and sneako and fresh n fit.

if the left is serious about building a big tent coalition, they need to reach out to men. we should want men to be on our side -- to understand why the power structures currently in place are stacked and unfair and should be dismantled.

it's a lot easier to disrupt or reform a system when the people currently holding it in place are on your side. this is politics 101, people.

the takeaway from this election shouldn't be to dig in deeper and double down. it should be to find ways to turn the enemy's tactics against them and snatch people away from their ideology.

On the topic of Leftist Andrew Tate and other mythical creatures of the liberal mind

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich path)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

Emmrich Volkarin - Dissecting the Lich Romance Scene fair warning you're in for an emotional rollercoaster

first, i wanna touch on this from our previous dissection (argument) -

"What if I can't bear that for eternity?" Oh, Emmrich. his entire soul aches over the inevitable future that awaits rook. i think this line is so important for emmrich because 'bear that for eternity" implies Emmrich will either, a) go rogue trying to bring rook back c) live with so much grief over his lost love it changes his soul forever in a dark, yet unknown way. and quite frankly, all of these are incredibly sad, and that just hurts. i thoroughly, full heartedly believe that there is no concievable way that emmrich just 'moves on' and 'accepts' the death of rook as previously stated in the lichdom scene. sry bioware, but youre wrong on that one as if he was 'fine' with it, he wouldn't of had a massive panic attack over rooks death and his grief. COUGH, the eternal flame. i could rant for hours and HOURS about how emmrich in the lich path is absoloutley devastating if rook were to pass on, because he is so compulsively, irrevocably in love with them. and not only is he in love with them, he has the love he has yearned for, for over 20 years. its huge for him which is evident given how both romance paths have him terrfied of how much he loves you.

Additionally, Emmrich grew up poor. This would impact his view on society and love. But more impactfully, it would impact his view on himself. His self-worth. Emmrich likely thinks he doesnt deserve this type of love. Hence the attempt to push Rook away and act over-suave at times.

anyway, to the SCENE -

immediately we are hit with this, to which Emmrich replies stating that he did it not to scare the citizens. what a load of huff. youll see why thats a straight deflective lie soon -

don't you worry handsome man, youre not alone emmrich expressing his fear of losing rook, and/or losing eachother, continues to be a major dynamic between these lovers

oh rooky, im so proud of you for opening up about your feelings. (remember the argument they had prior, it was fort knox up in here)

rook expresses clear fear and gratitude that they were able to escape the fade. I do believe that the line "I was afrad I'd be there forever" is a parrelle to emmrichs lichdom - as they would of spent eternity without eachother. hence why this next line, hurts so much -

the raw emotion, the crack in his voice when he says this line tells you everything you need to know. he is so grateful to have rook back with him. I do believe in this moment that emmrich has a moment of realisation of his love for rook, and just how immensed and attached he is with her. which is why he later vows that nothing will part them ever again, "not in this, nor any other world" (cough, soulmates). idk man, i have a feeling that emmrich would find rook's spirit in the fade (or any other world) if they passed on, and he'd never leave.

I also want to touch on the "you're here with me" line. this, this is important considering what happens directly afterwards - remember how i mentioned desire a few posts ago? lets break it down, "you're here with me." Emmrich has held a consistent view throughout the whole romance that "its gratifying a fresh-faced adventure took any notice in me at all", does emmrich also possess the belief that the love he so dearly desired may not of been possible in his life time due to his age? i think so. which is why desire and the "wow, you're here with me" is so, so important. Now watch closely -

he looks defeated, ashamed - "why would someone like her be with someone like me? let alone, desire me."

the pose, how he is holding his chest and his body up against the coffin, the disbelief and sadness that is pained over his face. he is heavy with angst. this man wants rook, body and soul. he is SO in love with her. god my heart breaks typing this. he is so in love with her, but is so afraid that she doesnt want him now that he is undead - I will add in here to think back to when he was mortal, 3 flirts lines in total were regarding his looks. UGH, just stab me - ps the music in this scene rips out my heart, stomps on it, and shoves it back into my chest bloodied and bruised.

when rook touches him, his face unstiffens and his body relaxes. he looks at her nervously, but before he can address her or admit his pain, rook has NOTICED (YAY - take that argument scene rook) what is bothering emmrich, because she loves him so much, maybe even more, regardless of his undead figure. "You don't have to hide your face from me" is just a perfect way of phrasing that you are made for eachother. rook reassures emmrich of her undying love for him.

its that gomez and morticia dynamic, unwavering, obsessed dedication to eachother. a bond that strengthens the other. for emmrich and rook at least, theri dynamic is so strong I wholeheartedly believe the death of one, would break the mind and soull of the other.

there is so, so much emotion in this scene and most of it is written into the facial expressions and movements of the characters. watch how the fear of death becomes easier now that emmrich knows that rook loves him truly -

im not crying, you are -

this WRECKED me. because there is a slimmer of hope in his voice and particularly the words he chose. "I will let nothing part us again, my love" emmrich is a lich lord, with powers we dont understand just yet (cmon sequel with rook & emmrich), it is safe to say though that emmrich and rook would fight for and protect eachother to the death so that they may not be parted. This also takes me back to my original point of not letting anything part them, nothing - not even death. hence my belief that emmrich would do anything to find rook in the fade or any other world.

"Not in this nor any other world" - do i need say more? the hope seeps through, its not alot, but its there. don't get me wrong, he still has a crippling fear of death, but its, different. different in the sense that if rook was to pass or trapped somewhere, he would get them back and find his way to them, at all costs, one way or another.

the rest of the scene is very, very sweet and shows them being happy for the extra few hours they have together before facing untold danger - by either rook being able to see the fade through emmrichs eyes, or them boning again. actually i think both lead to boning.

this scene has me in absolute tears everytime I witness it because it is so powerful. it is hopeful. it is pure committment of their relationship and bond to eachother. combining this with the knowledge of the argument scene and having played through the mortal romance path, this - is extremely emotional.

Both romance scene are emotional and touching in their own regard - however, I do think the lich romance scene is more deep due to the dynamic. It is not about simply coming to grips with mortality, it is coming to grips with mourning your lover for eternity, and if you cant bear it for eternity, (which he wont, cmon) he is afraid. afraid of losing, rook. his heart. his dearest heart, and of losing himself because rook is, and I quote, "the most magnificent thing to ever happen to me."

mourn watch rook and emmrich are on a whole other level, and that level is something that is told in the minute details, the edging looks. the tone of voice. there is hope in this scene and a sense of overwhelming love and acceptance, but, there is also impending grief. which makes this story so real.

you can feel emmrich yearning for rook throughout the entire romance path because of the fated connected they share, in this and any other world. you can feel it. but this, in the lich scene? there is yearning, acceptance, hope, grief, joy, and melancholy all in one. without a doubt in my heart, these two, are made for eachother, in every world.

I shall break down the mortal romance scene next ♥ see you soon

[trippinsorrows]

in your hands + two

authors note: well, friends. we've done it again. this is going to be a short series. if you're unaware, it's yet another au based off "looking through your eyes."

need to catch up? read part one HERE.

warnings: fluff, angst and smut

words: 8k (don't ask)

“Remind me again what you know about this guy?”

It’s a valid question. One Solana has no answer to despite the understanding of and behind it.

She shakes her head, once again throwing aside another failed option for a dress, earning another look of disagreement from her best friend and older sister, Yolanda. 

Six years apart, while they weren’t the closest when they were younger, with Solana now being a mother and no longer just an aunt to her niece and nephew, she's found herself growing closer to her older sister.

Something about motherhood being a thing for both of them creating a bond. 

Not to mention, while they haven’t always seen eye to eye on things, in her hardest moments, Solana has been able to lean on her big sister. Hence why she’s packed up her daughter and a couple of different options for her date tonight with Roman and ventured over to her sister’s place.

It would have probably been easier for her to just invite Yolanda over to her apartment, but given that Trick, Solana’s brother-in-law, offered to swing by her place and pick her, along with Soraya staying with them for the evening, it just worked out better that way.

Plus, Yolanda has always been much better with makeup, fashion and things of the sort.

“His name is Roman, and he’s nice.”

Yolanda rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because that’s so much.”

“He’s older.”

Yolanda’s gaze becomes a bit more suspicious. “How old?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. 30s.” The gray in Roman’s beard would indicate he may even be in his forties, but looks wise, he just doesn’t appear that old. He must work a stressful job. Has to be given how wealthy he appears. Rich people seem to always be stressed about one thing or another. Even if it’s a trivial matter that’s very much first world problems. 

Yolanda nods, clearly pleased by the answer, finding the age gap agreeable. “And how did you meet him?”

Solana shrugs. “I told you. At work.”

“At that uppity ass restaurant?”

Solana rolls her eyes, grabbing another dress off the bed. “The one that helps me pay my bills.” Barely. “Yes.”

Yolanda is dedicated to staying on this topic. “So, he just walked up to you and asked you on a date while you had Raya on your hip?”

Solana fiddles with the dress in her hand. “Not exactly…..”

She had to be pacing across her room for a good half hour, cell phone in one hand, folded piece of paper in the other. The little piece of paper that she found wrapped up with the stack of money given to her by Roman exactly three days prior.

A piece of paper with a seven digit number written on it. Dashes and all. A phone number.

His phone number.

She’s thought about it on and off for the past three days, too. Considered throwing it away, considered calling it, texting it even. So many options, and none seemed like the right one.

Why would a man like him give someone like her his number? While on a date, nonetheless? Granted, given from what she saw of their interactions on said date, Solana wouldn’t be surprised if it was the first and last.

And it’s not like there was a wedding ring on either of their fingers. 

So……

It’s why she acts based on that fleeting moment of courage, deciding to bite the bullet and dial the number while Raya sleeps peacefully in her crib. 

It takes another five minutes between the time she dials the number and when she hits send. Her heart is practically beating out of her chest at each daunting ringing on the other end. 

“Hello.” And right away, Solana is regretting her decision. He sounds irritated. 

“Hi.” She clears her throat. “Umm, I—”

“Solana?” And just like that, his tone has shifted into something entirely different. Kinder, almost.

“Yeah, ummm, is this a bad time?”

A deep chuckle on the other end of the phone. “No. Not at all.” It certainly doesn’t sound that way, but she’s not about to call him out on the incongruence. “I was wondering when you’d call.”

“Not if?”

“I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

She swallows. He’s so confident. “I—I just didn’t—I wasn’t sure if it was—it was an accident.” And as soon as it comes out, she’s slapping her face as she continues to wear a hole into the floor. What a stupid thing to say. 

Another deep chuckle. His voice is so damn sexy. “You think I accidentally gave you my number?”

“I just…..” A glance at the photo on her nightstand, one of the first photos taken of her and Soraya when she was born, triggers the elephant in the room. “I have a baby.”

“I’m aware.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Should it?” He doesn’t give her time to answer. “Look, I’m not a phone person. I prefer to discuss things face to face.” Solana’s stomach twists.“What are you doing Friday night?”

And the twisting intensifies, because there’s no way he’s asking her out?

He can’t be…..right?

She clears her throat, offering an answer that’s not entirely true but not entirely false either. “I—I have to work.” She technically hasn’t picked up the shift yet, but it’s bound to happen. Among other things. Catch up on schoolwork. Be a mom. Stress over bills. Nightly scheduled mental breakdown. The usual. 

“Not anymore,” he says it so easily, like it’s a simple thing that shouldn’t even need to be discussed. “I’ll give you whatever you make in a night.”

Solana laughs, waiting for him to also join in. He doesn't. “Shit, are you—are you serious?”

“Send me your address. I’ll have a car come pick you up.”

And that was all she wrote, hence how Solana ended up in the position she’s in now, readying for her date with a Mr. Roman Reigns.

A knock on the door interrupts her, Heaven, Solana's ten year-old niece walking in, her eyes lighting up when she sees the dress. "It's so pretty!"

Solana smiles, "thank you, baby."

Heaven's eyes crinkle with a sense of playful mischief as she walks over by her mom, sitting on her lap and asks, "are you going on a date?"

Solana and Yolanda share a laugh, the elder sister answering, "she sure is, Heav."

Solana readies to ask her niece a question when Heaven beats her to it. "Is he gonna be Raya's new dad?"

It's unexpected, as are a lot of questions for kids. But, it's still something that gives her pause, makes Solana sad for a second. Cruz doesn't need to be anyone's father. Raya isn't missing out on anything with him, but the innocent question does stir up some deeply rooted fears.

If Raya will suffer from growing up without a father at all?

Granted, it's hard for Solana to justify the alternative. Her father was in her life, and look how that turned out.

Yolanda is wise and helpful, redirecting her daughter, "baby, did you need something??"

Heaven is young enough to not see the innocent subterfuge, instead asking her initial question. “What time is grandpa coming over?”

Solana’s head snaps up as she looks at her sister through the mirror. Yolanda’s pretty face is painted in guilt as she clears her throat, quietly asking Heaven to complete some made up task, resulting in them being alone.

“Sola…..”

“Is he coming over tonight?”

“Sola—”

“Answer the question, Yolanda.”

Yolanda swallows, defeat overcoming her. “Yes.”

Solana scoffs, partially in disbelief, mostly pissed the fuck off. Shaking her head, she throws the dress down on the bed and grabs her bag, angrily stuffing them in said bag. “Forget it. I’ll see if Kayden can keep Raya.”

Yolanda’s shoulder drops as she shakes her head. “Solana, you’re being ridiculous. He’s our da—”

“Do not call him that,” Solana snaps. “He’s your dad. He’s nothing to me.” She continues to pack away the clothes, the sting of betrayal fueling her actions. “I can’t believe you would try this shit. You know I don’t want him meeting Soraya.”

She sighs, trying to explain herself. “I wouldn’t have let him—”

“Bullshit,” Solana cuts her off, swinging the bag over her shoulder. “When are you going to learn to respect my wishes? I don’t want anything to do with him! The same way he didn’t want anything to do with me!”

“You’re so dramatic. Acting like he was never there.”

“And you’re acting like he was father of the freaking year,” Solana snaps before scoffing bitterly. “Oh wait, he was. For you. It was just when I rolled around he decided he was done with fatherhood.”

Yolanda’s pretty eyes flash with a slice of guilt, but not enough to cause her to confess her wrongdoing. “Solana, he wants to make things right with yo—”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t want anything to do with him,” Solana vows, gathering her bag of clothing that holds her wallet, her phone stuffed in the back pocket of her jeans as she walks out of the room, down the hall, and in TJ’s bedroom where the crib is.

“Hi, baby…..” Solana apologizes as she lifts a sleeping Soraya out of the crib, grateful when her sweet daughter remains asleep. Solana kisses the side of her head and bypasses her sister who stands in the hall, following her out and into the living room. 

Solana finds her brother-in-law sitting on the sofa, watching ESPN. 

“Trick, can you drop me off at Kayden’s place?”

Yolanda is behind her, frustration in her voice. “Solana, you’re being childish.”

Solana ignores her, focusing on her request. “Please?”

She sees the way Trick’s confused expression lifts from her to behind her, Yolanda most likely nodding to give him the sign off. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he shuts off the television and stands up. “Of course, sis.”

Solana mumbles a thank you and ops to stand outside and wait on the porch. She’s too livid with Yolanda to be around her right now. 

She just hopes and prays that this isn’t a bad sign for the evening to come.

—-------

Le Bernardin

A fancy, rich, upscale restaurant. The type where people pay thousands of dollars just for a reservation. Solana had actually applied for a job there, overhearing the pay was a fraction above minimum wage. Only for them to take one look at her and send her on her merry way, less than ten minutes into the interview.

So, it’s a bit of a full circle moment when the SUV pulls up in front of said restaurant, and she realizes the same place that turned her away as a waitress is exactly where she’ll be dining this evening. 

God really does have a sense of humor.

Solana is taken back yet again as she is escorted into the restaurant only to see it completely vacant. There’s a couple of workers, and….and him. 

Roman Reigns.

Somehow, someway, he looks different. Better than before. Bigger. If that’s even possible. 

The closer she gets to him, the more she takes in his appearance. Dress pants, nice shoes, short sleeved, dark blue shirt that hugs his bulging muscles. That beautiful hair pulled back into a bun. Expensive watch on his wrist. And eyes glued directly onto her.

Solana suddenly feels severely underdressed, regretting letting Kayden talk her into wearing the short orange dress and gold heels she eventually settled on after a good half an hour of going back and forth on options.

But, it’s when she’s directly in front of him, his lips curling into a smug smile that the second guessing wanes ever so slightly.

He looks far from disinterested. 

“You look even more beautiful when you’re all done up.” 

It’s hard not to smile at such a compliment coming from such a man.

“Thank you…..” She looks around, nervously gripping her clutch. “Are we the only—”

“I rented it out for us for the night.” Her eyes widening make him chuckle as he moves to pull out her chair for her. “You could say I’m a bit of a private person.”

Solana swallows, still confused but moving to sit down. “How…..how did you?”

“Money talks,” is his simple answer as he sits across from her, motioning for the men who escorted her in the restaurant to leave. “I’m glad you came.”

In a weird sort of way, she is too. Even if she’s not entirely sure why. “I—I wasn’t sure at first.” 

He looks curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, she pushes a string of hair that’s escaped her updo behind her ear. “That woman you were with…..”

Roman rolls his eyes. “She’s irrelevant.”

“Not irrelevant enough for you to not take on a date.” It comes out before she even realizes it. Solana slaps her hand over her face. “I’m so sor—”

“I’ve known her since I was a teenager. We…..mess around from time to time.”

Solana grows quiet. She gets it. He’s handsome. That woman was stunning. It makes sense that attractive people like to fuck other attractive people.

“But, she’s not….she’s not your girlfriend?” Because as handsome and nice as Roman seems, that’s one thing she could never do or get behind. Being the other woman.

“Not at all.” His answer is a lot more relieving than she’d like to admit. “So, can I ask about your daughter’s father?” He skips to the real question. “He still in the picture?”

Solana shakes her head, waiting for the waiter who just walked up to finish pouring the champagne before she answers. “No.” Solana takes a sip, eyes closing, missing the relief that flashes in his eyes. “He—he abandoned her and me.” 

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t necessarily sound it, but regardless, it doesn’t make a difference.

“I’m not,” she shrugs, being more honest than what’s characteristic for her. “He’s a piece of shit who left me when he found out I was pregnant, showed back up a month after she was born because he assumed I put her up for adoption and left again when he realized I was keeping her.” Solana ends on the bitter but honest note. “I’m glad he’s not in her life. He’d only end up hurting her.”

Flashbacks of her own daddy issues flood in, forcing her to confront the fact that she’s probably just overshared. A lot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You’re not wrong. Kids need stability.” He says it so easily, Solana wondering if there’s a story there. “How old is she?”

The question brings the smile back to her face. “11 months. She’ll be a year next month.” Solana can’t believe how time has gone by. It feels like only yesterday she was welcoming her sweet daughter into the world, and now she’s about to be one. Time truly does fly. “I’m sorry, I keep talking.”

“I think I could listen to you talk all night and never get tired.” Their eyes lock, Solana shifts in her seat. His gaze is intense and burning and has her cheeks reddening. “Tell me more.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

She looks away, briefly distracted, wondering just how much the chandelier above their table costs. Probably more than she’s even made in her working life. “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m—I’m 26. I—I have a child. An older sister. She’s married with two kids. I—I’m really close with my mom and my sister…..usually.” She chuckles, adding, “I work two jobs, and I go to school full time.”

He seems intrigued by that last part. “What are you studying?”

“I’m getting my masters in nursing, specifically for FNP. I wanna be a family nurse practitioner.”

“Will be,” he corrects, complementing, “that’s impressive.”

“Maybe.” If only she felt as sure as he sounds. Still, she's appreciative of the kind words and says as much. “Thank you. My—my mom is a nurse. My sister is an RN. Mami wanted to be an NP, but she got pregnant with me right when she started grad school and just couldn’t handle both, so she dropped out.” Solana swallows. “I want to do it for her. For me, too, of course. But her and Raya.” His slight confusion makes her smile as she clarifies, “Soraya’s nickname is Raya.”

Roman makes a sound, acknowledging, “your face lights up when you talk about her.”

The smile is unavoidable. “She’s my heart.” Emotion builds up as she finds herself sharing, “I had just moved back here from Cali when I found out I was pregnant with her, and it….it’s weird, but I—I needed her at that time. I needed her to help me heal.” Solana finds herself subconsciously rubbing at the horizontal scar on the palm of her right hand.

A battle scar.

Most of what she's shared with this man would probably rank pretty high up there on anyone’s list of shit not to say on a first date, probably cementing this being a one and done thing. And, it’s not intentional. At all. She just finds herself opening up to Roman in a way she hasn’t opened up to any man.

Ever.

And, it confuses the mess out of her.

If he's curious about the unspoken story, he doesn’t express as such, just offers her a path to deflection. “Well, I’m sure you have questions for me.”

She does. “What do you do?”

He smiles at her, and she feels her insides melting away. He’s such a beautiful man. “Business exec. I do buyout leveraging. I won’t bore you with the details. I’m also into real estate.” 

She nods, assessing the still vacant room, like she’s just waiting for other guests to arrive, even though he’s made it clear that won’t be happening. “I guess…..I guess you do well for yourself.”

He makes a face. “You could say that.” 

She’s most definitely saying that. 

“What about your family? Do you have any kids?”

“No kids. I have a twin sister. Parents are still alive, but that’s…..complicated.” 

Solana picks up on the almost tension that rises in him at the ending part, the way his eyes briefly dart away.

“I get that…..” Because she does. Oh, she does. “Are you close with your sister?”

Solana is relieved to see that pearly white smile return. “Depends on the day.”

She giggles. “I agree. My sister is my best friend, but she’s also a thorn in my side sometimes.”

“Is that who’s watching your daughter?”

“She was supposed to,” Solana chuckles, elbows on the table. “But, it ended up being a thorn day, so she’s with her godmother.”

He nods, asking, “what time do you need to be back?”

Solana starts to answer while pulling out her phone, “I put her down for bed a little early, so…..” Glancing at the time on the phone, seeing that it’s quarter to 7pm, she shrugs and shares, “I just need to be home by midnight.”

He makes a sound. “That’s a decent amount of time.”

Curious, she finds herself asking, “For what?”

“Whatever you want.” And it’s the way he’s looking at her, how his eyes briefly drop to her chest, the small smirk on his face that there’s definitely something he wants, too. “Or whoever.”

—-----

Straddling Roman Reign’s lap in the back of the SUV that’s currently driving them to his penthouse isn’t exactly how Solana pictured this evening playing out. Even if it was predicted by her annoyingly accurate best friend.

“Ten bucks says you get fucked tonight.”

It was laughable at the time. Solana has never been one to sleep around. Cruz was her first everything. First kiss. First boyfriend. First time. Hell, the father of her first child. She’s never been with another man except for him, never really saw it for or in her to try out different men.

It’s why Roman currently sucking on her neck as his big hand palms her ass through her dress has her thrown for a loop. This isn’t her. At all. And yet, there’s not a single part of her that wants to stop, wants to push him away, to tell him no.

She just finds herself smashing her lips back onto his, the two continuing to tongue each other down until they reach their destination.

His hand closed around her, Solana is trying to gather herself as he leads them into the building to the private elevator. The distraction of his lips on her pulling her from taking in the fact that this man seems to be surrounded by security. Men guarding the SUV as they walked in the building. Men in the lobby of said penthouse. Men in the restauraunt.

Just guards everyone.

Solana chalks it up to a rich people thing. 

Especially when she steps foot into his penthouse.

“Holy shit…..” The interior is dark and sleek. Some shades of red and blue strewn about. It all feels so expensive. “I can’t believe this is where you liv—”

“I’m not gon’ lie, I’m not listening to a damn thing you’re saying right now.” It’s a combination of brutal honesty and a strain of frustration, Solana turning around to see he’s inching towards her. “All I can think about is getting you naked and face down, ass up on my bed.”

She closes her eyes the minute he’s right before her, swinging his arm around her waist, yanking her to him. Solana has to crane her head up to look at him. He’s so damn tall.

The hungry look in his eyes is no doubt too different from the exact way she’s looking at him. He may want her, but she definitely wants him. 

Even if she doesn’t understand it. 

Even if a part of her feels slightly guilty for what’s about to commence. 

Still, it doesn’t negate the fact that she wants this. 

It’s what has her licking her lips and saying so calmly. “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile is wicked, and she only has seconds to think about what she just welcomed into her. Figuratively and literally before he smashes his lips onto her.

Solana has only been kissed by a few men in her life, the majority of them coming from her daughter’s father. And it’s always been…..okay. Decent. Nice, even.

Kissing Roman, however, is none of those things. That hunger in his eyes is matched only by the passion in the way he kisses her, the way his full, pink lips move against hers, his tongue entering her mouth, toying around with her own.

It’s all so powerful and ravenous, and she finds her hands locking behind his neck at the same moment he hikes her up on his waist.

A gasp leaves her mouth, forcing her to break said kiss as he walks her to the back of his place, toward his bedroom.

“How…..” Never a small woman by any stretch of the imagination, especially since having Soraya, it’s a complete surprise the way he lifts and holds her like she weighs no more than a gallon of milk. 

Roman, however, is clearly still not interested in talking, because the moment they arrive in his bedroom, he has her up against the back of his door. His mouth is back on her with those hungry kisses that has her nails raking up the back of his neck, her thighs tightening around his waist. 

His breathing is uneven, his voice strained, and that hardening pressing in between her legs tells her just how badly he wants this too. 

“If you want to stop, you need to say something now.”

It’s the do or die moment. The epic moment of meeting at the crossroads. A part of her is screaming at her to get the hell out of this man’s place and back home where she belongs. With Soraya. Her daughter. Being the best mother that she can be.

But, another part of her, a stronger part of her, wants this, wants him. Because she always does the right thing. Or, tried to, at least. She’s certainly never allowed herself to indulge like this, so where’s the harm?

It’s like Kayden said.

Even woman should have at least one one night stand story. And who better to do it with than the man before her?

Solana’s answer is to press a teasing kiss against the base of his neck. “I’m not saying anything.....”

It feels like she’s barely able to get the words out when he’s carrying her over to the bed, sitting down with her still on top of him. He pulls back and motions for her to climb off. Standing in front of him, Solana watches how his gaze travels over her body before he demands, “take your clothes off. Slowly.”

It’s a strange, almost unfamiliar thing how easy it is for her to follow his instruction without a second thought. One minute her fingers are hooking on the thin straps of her dress, the next she’s squeezing herself out of it, all the while of his eyes never once leaving her.

Heavy breast freed, the only piece of clothing remaining on her is the soaked, black, lacy thong that keeps her cunt covered. 

Roman licks his lips and beckons her over, Solana wordlessly stepping close enough for him to tug her to him, his face buried in her chest. Her head falls back at the same time her mouth drops open as he starts a dangerous combination of kneading one breast while tonguing the other.

“Oh, fuck…..” Her hand is once again on the back of his head. “Roman…..”

“You better get used to saying my name.” He hikes her back on his waist only to flip them, so she’s laid back on the bed with his big, strong body covering her. “Cause it’s the only thing I want to hear for the next few hours.”

Her eyes widen at that, the word escaping her, “hours?”

Roman smiles, and it’s the best and worst thing in the world. So much mischief hidden behind those pearly whites. Carnal, salacious plans. “I like to fuck.” His gaze drops down in between her legs. “And eat.”

There’s a bit of anxiety that spurs the minute he starts dragging those luscious lips from her breast down her chest, his teeth pressing against her skin when he bites down on the band of her underwear. Solana’s hands grasp at the sheets as he uses his mouth to rid her of her final piece of clothing. 

Eyes darting open, she nearly loses it seeing him bring her panties to his face, his own eyes shutting as he deeply inhales and smirks. “I’m keeping these.”

She doesn’t have time to process how he tosses them to the side redirecting his focus to the dripping mess that is her cunt.

He makes a sound, going to pull his shirt over his head, moving to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Look at this pretty ass pussy. Already nice and wet for me.” His words do something to lessen her anxiety but not as much as she’d like. Getting head has always been a mid experience for her. Cruz was…..okay, nothing to be overjoyed about, and he always acted like it was an inconvenience whenever she asked him to return the favor. Not to mention the fact that he rarely, if ever, made her come from it.

Penetration was also hit or miss.

So, her expectations are pretty low up until that first lick of Roman’s thick tongue that has her nearly jumping off the bed. 

“Shit!” Her reaction is a bit embarrassing, most likely more than what’s necessary, but if he’s annoyed by it, he does a damn good job hiding it. 

He looks more turned on than anything. Roman’s long, thick fingers are suddenly playing with the mess she’s certain has already dripped on the soft sheets of his bed. “Lay back, and keep these legs open for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

More embarrassment with how quickly and fervently she nods her head, again falling back onto his big bed. Solana moans quietly when she feels his face completely submerged in her drenched cunt. 

“Roman…..”

He makes a sound followed by his fingers spreading her folds, revealing her swollen clit to him. “Sweet ass pusssy….” 

Solana hasn’t the slightest clue how she’s supposed to last these hours he’s referred to at least twice now based upon the fact that his mouth alone has her about to climax and tap out. It’s so unfamiliar and borderline inhuman how he works his tongue on and against her, exploring, licking and sucking every part of her that Cruz has somehow seemed to neglect her. 

She has her hand on the back of his head, fisting and undoing his bun, curls cascading around her fist as she presses his face deeper into her. 

It’s when he lifts his head, however, beard, chin and mouth soaked with her essence that she truly has to hold it together. “I changed my mind. I want you to watch me.” She’s not sure how and if she can do anything but, Roman’s dark eyes dropping back to her vagina. “Want you to see how good I eat this pussy…..” 

Good isn’t the word for it, because the methodical way he alternates between flicking, swirling, sucking, all the while playing with her, one finger, two fingers, moving in and out of her, needs to be studied by all men.

This is how you make a woman come, and she does. All over his face. Solana practically convulses as he laps up every bit of her essence, not once letting up, even as her orgasm rips through her. He’s still sucking on her clit, forcing her to push him away due to the overwhelming sensation of it all.

She’s partially discombobulated as his mouth finds her, letting her sample the remnants of her cum mixed in with their saliva as he taunts, “see how good you taste?” Solana is incapable of answering, among many other things. “Gonna eat you out all fucking night…..”

It’s a promise that has her clit throbbing. 

Not as much as it does watching Roman stand up at the edge of the bed and start to undo his pants. She’s unable to look away as he also rids himself of the remaining articles of clothing, her eyes basking in every rippling band of muscle that seems to make up his entire body. 

This man is beautiful and strong and ungodly perfect. It feels too good to be true.

But, it’s when he slides his boxers down, his member springing out with hunger and need that her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. 

“Oh….”

To be fair, Solana has only had sex with one man, so comparing dicks is a hard thing for her.

No pun intended.

It’s a hard thing, because it’s quite unfair and borderline cruel to even have Roman and Cruz in the same category.

Cruz barely scratches 5’7. 

Roman is well over 6ft tall.

Cruz is lean and lithe with some muscle and fat that he’s acquired over the years.

Roman’s muscles have muscles. 

Cruz dick is….average, probably a little under average.

Roman’s dick is massive.

The mushroom tip alone, pre-cum oozing through the slit, is enough to have her rethinking this whole thing. She’s not sure even that can get in.

“I don’t…..” And Solana is suddenly forced to endure the most awkward conversation of her life. “How is it supposed to fit?”

A probably silly question if not for the fact she’s genuinely concerned for the state of her vagina right now.

“It’ll fit.” Roman, however, seems unbothered, stroking himself for a minute before he instructs her. “Get on your hands and knees. Hold onto the headboard if you want.” Despite her newfound anxiety, she follows suit, Solana moaning as he glides his tip along her slippery folds. It’s baffling to her how wet she’s been and stayed for him, even with him already making her come once. This man’s presence alone is orgasm inducing. “You just gotta let me stretch this little cunt for you.”

Stretching is one thing. Ripping is an entirely different thing.

“Trust me.” He seems so sure of himself, and she’s not sure why she seems so sure of him too, nodding as she goes back to focusing on holding onto the headboard. A much needed source of support, clearly. 

Eyes closed, she hears the ripping of the condom package. Can imagine him sliding that thing over the massive, heated, turgid muscle weighing in his big hand.

She feels one hand gently gliding down her back, settling on her ass cheek where he gives her a little slap. “Just try to relax.”

Much easier said than done.

Still, she says nothing, eyes closing and head nodding. 

Now or never.

But, the minute his thick dickhead intrudes her tight opening, they’re both moaning in synchronization. It’s a burning, tight sensation on her part, maybe his as well, but there’s also something pleasurable about it? Something satisfying about the way he carefully works inch by inch of his girthy member inside of her, all the while praising her, goading her, talking her through.

“That’s it. Take this dick like the good girl you are.”

“Come on, baby. Open up for me.”

“Look at how this pussy yielding for me.”

It’s still a tight ass fit, and Solana is partially nervous about what the aftermath will look and feel like. Ice packs, crutches, and Tylenol seem to be in her near future. But, none of that matters once he’s fully seated in her, Solana trying to get used to the feel. So full and filing. 

That time of adjustment seems short lived, almost non-existent, because Solana’s body seems to have a mind of its own when she starts moving her ass back on him, prompting him to grab her hips as he starts to thrust into her.

“Shit, girl, knew this pussy would feel amazing, but I didn’t know it would feel this damn good.” His words are accurate and relatable, the discomfort gradually easing into something of pleasure. “Look how good you taking this dick.”

Eyes shut, Solana rocks her big ass back against him, whimpering when he brings hand down and slaps it. “Roman…..”

“That’s right. My name. It’s the only thing I wanna hear leave that pretty mouth of yours.” He intensifies the force of his thrusts, clearly encouraged by how she eagerly throws her ass back on his big dick. 

“Fuck, it’s so big…..” The biggest she’s ever had. The best she’s ever had. “But, it feels so good….”

“You like that shit, don’t you, baby?” He’s such a tease, taunting her, throwing in her face how good he’s beating her shit up. Solana hasn’t had sex in almost two years, not since before she found out she was pregnant, and this being her return to such a, now, wonderful thing is one hell of an experience. “Like how I’m stretching this pussy?"

“Fuck, I love it.” Because she does. Her knuckles are practically white from how hard she’s gripping the headboard, because it’s the only thing keeping her from screaming to the heavens. This man is a demond. “So good….”

Roman continues to fuck her from behind, backshots at different angles. Her head forced into the pillow. Hands on the headboard. Hands held behind her back. And each time causes her to reach a new level of heaven. 

But, it’s when Roman switches gears, repositioning them so she’s on top, Solana feels emboldened. Being on top with Cruz was always an uncomfortable thing, mostly because he would make comments about her being “too heavy” to ride him.

With Roman, all the man he is, it’s not a concern in the slightest. 

She bounces on top of his god-tier dick without a fucking care in the world. 

And he seems to feel the same. 

“That’s it……” She can feel his eyes burning into her as she rocks down on him, her big breast bouncing back and forth. “Ride my dick just like that, baby. Take what you need.”

And taking is exactly what she’s doing, because if this is a once in a lifetime chance to be fucked, thoroughly fucked by a man like Roman Reigns, she’s going to ride it until the wheels fall off. 

Some pun intended.

Roman growls, big hands pressing into her meaty hips. “He can’t never fuck you like this, fill you up like I can.” His lips are hot and pressured against the neck. “He can’t do shit for you that I can.”

She knows exactly who he’s referring to, and not a single lie is being told. “Little ass pussy squeezing the hell out of my big dick.” She moans, pulling his hair as he sucks on her tits, stopping only to again tease her, “you like that shit don’t you?”

She doesn’t stop, just professes all of the wonderful things he and his equally wonderful member are doing for her. “I love it. Fuck, I love it.”

“That’s all you needed. Someone to fuck you nice and right.” Again, it seems this man is incapable of lying, Solana hissing as he squeezes her ass cheeks while his tongue plays with her areola. “Take that stress all out on me, baby. Let me relax you.”

There’s something inherently stressful and relaxing with the way she can’t seem to find the space between reality and fantasy, with how he’s giving her a form of escape she never thought possible. Guiding and talking her to that beautiful point of release. A place she’s never been able to reach before.

Not like this. 

Never like this.

And Roman is perceptive, he can see it. Big hands moving up her back, holding her against him, guiding her on top of him. “Come for me, baby.” It’s less a command and more a plea, his voice almost desperate. “Wanna feel you come undone all over me.”

“Mio Dios!”

Solana is squeezing him, her nails pressing into his skin, her head in the crook of his neck as she comes, hard, heavy, overwhelmingly beautiful and chaotic. And his release comes shortly after, Solana enjoying the sensation of his strong, hulking body against hers, the way his face shifts into something so sensual and perfect as he jerks up into her, emptying into the condom.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just long enough for her to start feeling him go soft inside her. That’s when he eventually and carefully lifts her off and lays her down on the mattress, Solana panting and staring at the ceiling. She feels the dip in the bed as he gets up, obviously to dispose of the condom.

It’s only then she realizes that the absence of him inside of her is….noticeable.

A tiny bit of her eager to have it again. To have just one more taste of that deliciousness. 

Even if she probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. 

Or ever.

Roman returns to the room, completely unbothered by his nakedness. She readies for him to climb back in the bed with her, maybe even ask her to leave. 

But, he doesn’t. 

No, he instead moves back to his previous spot at the edge of the bed. Grabbing her by her calves, he starts sliding her down. 

“I told you.” Her pussy flutters as he spreads her thighs, face to face with her swollen, puffy pussy. “I’m gonna make the most of the time we have.” And Solana is already moaning, already anticipating another round of insurmountable pleasure. “Starting with you coming in my mouth at least three more times…..”

—-------

It’s a strange, unexpected experience for a lot of different reasons. One, Roman has never really been one to let women ‘stay’ the night. He gets his nut, she gets her, and he sends her on her merry way.

And while Solana isn’t staying the night, she remains in his bed. And not just for sex. He gets her to come again in his mouth twice more before she pushes him away, citing that she needs a break. 

He gives her that, but what happens next is….unexpected, to say the least. 

Pillow talk. 

It’s fucking pillow talk that’s started by her simply running her fingers along his tattoos, asking what they mean and represent. That’s followed up with him asking her about her tattoos, which leads into literally hours of them just laying in bed….talking.

No sex. 

Just…..conversation, and normally, Roman would shy away from such a thing like the plague. It’s just never been his thing. 

But…..with her…..it’s different.

He enjoys hearing her talk, the things she shares with him, the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, how her eyes light up when she discusses her daughter with so much adoration and love. He enjoys her presence, the fact that she treats him like…..like he’s normal.

Like he’s not who he actually is, a large part of that being because she doesn’t know who he is, and that probably needs to change. Will change. Just not right now.

He just wants to enjoy having someone to talk to, and it’s easy with Solana. He doesn’t have to second guess motives or intentions or wonder about what kind of hint she’ll drop about wanting something materialistically from him like Sam.

It’s just easy.

So much so that he ends up having a bit of a hard time with letting her out of bed as 11:20pm rolls around, with her once again reminding him that she needs to be home by midnight. He understands it though, respects her dedication to putting her daughter first.

It’s still a bit of a drag for him, a sense of almost disappointment that she can’t spend the night.

Again, wholly out of his norm. 

When they pull up in front of the apartment complex, he finds himself asking, “this is your friend’s place, right?”

The driver has just opened the door for her, but she looks back over her shoulder before climbing out. “Yes, why?”

Roman waits until they’re both standing outside, as he pulls her close to him, enjoying the sight of her wearing his jacket around her body. “Do you need me to take ya’ll home?”

With a soft smile that has him thinking once again about how soft her lips feel pressed against his, she answers, “no, we’ll just stay the night here. It’s late. I don’t want to disturb Raya.”

It’s also way too late for her to be on the road, let alone on public transportation with a baby, hence why he offered.

Pleased with at least that, Roman shares without much thought, “I want to see you again.” And again. And again. And again. Her presence is…..calming in a way he’s not used to.

But, he could certainly get used to. 

Mischief sparkles in her pretty eyes. “See me again or see me again?”

“Both.” It’s an honest answer, and Solana knows that. Can see that while he probably desires her sexually as much as she does him, it’s also something different. Something deeper.

It has to be for her to lay in bed with him for hours just talking.

But, she also knows something else, something that she can’t and won’t negate. “Roman, I—I have a child. I can’t—I can’t just sleep around with you like that. I can’t do friends with benefits.”

“I’m not asking you to.” And the honesty continues as he pushes back some of her hair. “I’m just asking you to give this a chance.”

The word this has her stomach tightening as well as the way he’s looking at her. With such authenticity. The same way she’s probably looking at him.

Solana’s volume dips as she shares with just as much honesty. “Soraya is my number one priority.”

He nods. “I respect that.” 

“She comes first.”

“She should.”

Solana grows quiet. It’s hard to find a reason to disagree with someone who’s being so amenable, and really, what would be her basis for disagreeing? She’s grown. He’s grown. He’s acknowledging that he recognizes her daughter will always come first. What more does she really need?

What reason does she have to not give this a chance?

“If we do this….” She takes a deep breath, fingers grasping at the soft material of his shirt. “You can’t be with anyone else. You can’t be sleeping with random woman while you’re fucking me.”

Because she went through that once. Ignored the signs because she wanted to be happy.

Never again.

Especially not when it comes to her health. 

There’s a bit of hesitation on Roman’s end that she partially understands. She highly doubts this was his first one night stand. “That’s fair,” he finally agrees.

Solana can’t hide her surprise at him not throwing the same stipulation back at her. “You don’t want me agreeing to the same thing?”

Roman chuckles and pulls her into him,“ nobody else could fuck you like I can. You know where it’s at. This the only dick you're gonna ever want now.”

Her cheeks are flushed. “You’re arrogant.” 

But not wrong.

And he voices as such. “It’s not arrogance if I can back it up.” She can’t find it in her to disagree or to call him out, because again, there is no disagreement. “I wanna see you this Friday.”

She can’t deny the small spark of excitement at his offer before the weight of reality sets back in. “I was gonna pick up a shift, Roman…..”

He shakes his head, offering, “I’ll give you whatever you’d make on average.” Solana’s eyes widen a bit. It’s one thing that he already snuck a stack of money in her purse when she was redressing to leave. It’s another for him to continue to offer to financially supplement what she would miss out on by being with him.

“Roman, you can’t…..” That’s trailed off by another realization, even if there is still a small smile on her pretty face. “I don’t think I can get a sitter again.”

Another shrug as he says so plainly. “Bring her.” The horrified expression on her face makes him chuckle as he explains, “we won’t fuck. We can go out to eat again and then back to my place. Now, if she happens to fall asleep and we have some time…..”

Solana’s smile remains as he drops his hand to her ass, palming it, reminding her that this man really did keep her underwear. “You’d be okay with that?”

He explains so calmly. “You have a daughter. I’m not going to pretend she doesn’t exist. If we’re going to see where this goes, she has to be included, too.”

It takes her by surprise. The way he’s so easily going along with this. For some reason, Solana always imagined re-entering the dating world would be stressful given her dedication to always putting her child first. Most men these days don’t get that or aren't trying to “deal” with that. And then there’s Roman.

So…..easy.

It’s nice. Very nice. 

“How about this?” She moves her hands up his chest, feeling how he tugs her even closer. “We can go grocery shopping, and I’ll cook dinner for us.”

Roman smirks, looking down at her. “I got you cooking for me already?”

She giggles, reminding him. “I like to cook. It has nothing to do with me wanting to do anything for you.”

“Hmm. That’s fine. There’s a lot of different things I wouldn’t mind doing for you.” She sighs against him as he squeezes her ass again. “Especially to you.”

Solana can’t say she would be opposed to that.

Either of them.

Finally breaking away, she acknowledges, “I need to get inside.”

“Mmmm.”

Her smile is stapled at this point. “Goodnight, Roman.”

His eyes flicker with something. "Goodnight, Solana." She's walking up the steps when she remembers his jacket. Shuffling back over, she attempts to take it off, only for him to reach out and stop her. "Keep it. It's yours." Finger to her chin, Roman rubs his thumb along her still swollen bottom lip. "Just like you're mine now....."

[riacte]

Unconventional format / mixed media / meta / epistolary fic ideas:

Script format but the characters slowly break fourth wall until they grow self aware and scream to leave but the script confines them.

Mock up notes of an author's fic outline only for a "fan favourite" / "author's darling" character to gain sentience and influence the story. The character changes the outline to suit their own agenda, and their changes are marked with a different colour whereas black text means it's the author's will. Maybe another character using another colour gains sentience. The different colours fight for dominance. Mom says it's my turn with the keyboard hey what the fuck man excuse me I'm literally trying to save my family can you guys let go and let me write your character arcs in peace OH FUCK OFF

Recipe fic. The story is told via those unnecessarily long backstories on a recipe blog in which you learn about someone's grandma or a breakup or literally anything. Bonus points if the actual recipe deals with worldbuilding (what ingredients are available? What utensils are used? How to serve this meal? Woohoo Dungeon Meshi) or in-cheek recipes (eg. "Recipe for making up with your estranged mother - Step 1: Mix patience, nostalgia, and filial piety and let it marinate for ten years. Step 2: Throw that shit into the trash because you're better than that")

Travel fic. A character is lost and trying to find their way somewhere. GPS directions, googling "x place to x place", tickets and dates, train station maps, leaflets. It gets weirder and weirder. You never get closer to your destination. You're walking around in circles. It's always 10 meters away. Where are you going and where have you been?

Receipts. Try to infer what a character is doing judging from the weird things they buy together. Also yipppee inflation tracker. On the other side, maybe it can be about a cashier/ shop owner getting to know their customers and what they order.

Written from the pov of an non-native English speaker, all the English words are italicized whereas their native tongue are the only words not italicized. Inspired by Kupu rere kē by Alice Te Punga Somerville. This is because I got salty about people from Ao3 Reddit saying they won't read a fic in all italics.

Murder mystery / "Among Us" style impersonation fic strictly using the chatfic format. Characters and readers will have to figure out which character has been killed and replaced from the way they text and use emojis. This is also because I got salty about Ao3 Reddit being a wee bit pretentious about emoji usage in fics. Maybe emojis can be important plot devices! Some people prefer to sign off messages with a heart emoji of their signature colour, so won't it be weird if they use another coloured heart? How about someone using lapslock suddenly using proper capitalisation and full stops? Can you tell if someone's phone has been stolen? What if someone's mother is pretending to text like their child? Why is someone suddenly only using UwU speak? Is it a bit, or have they been replaced?

Innocuous second person POV until the last line where it's suddenly revealed to be first person POV all along and the "I" has been stalking and narrating "you".

Other fun bits / Easter eggs / secrets to hide:

Decoding within the text itself. Maybe we get given instructions to find a word in x chapter on page y on the nth line. And when we as readers collect all the words, they form a sentence that spells out an important fact which the characters are oblivious to. Or maybe the in-universe characters find a book with the same title as the irl fic with a bookmark in it, and if you go to where the bookmark is stuck irl, you'll find the murderer plainly stated. The rest of the fic is about the readers having hard confirmation of who the murderer is while characters don't know.

A phrase is subtly repeated throughout the text of the fic and is spelled out with the letter that begins a sentence. It gives off the effect that the narrator is screaming and crying into the void (to the readers in the fourth wall) while trying to avoid detection. Bonus points if the same word is repeated for pages and pages to the point the lack of sentence variation feels weird and clunky.

Morse code!! I love morse code! Using onomatopoeia to convey the dots and dashes! The sound of rain pattering on the tin rooftop— drop, drop, drop. A low whistle of a train rumbling in the distance. He slowly sharpens his knife, creating a shiiing sound. A lengthy, high pitched squeal from his kettle. A dog barks. A sharp knock. His heart thumps. Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot. SOS. Maybe a character's death scene spells out the name of their mysterious murderer. Maybe a character is reminiscing their deceased loved one and the scene spells out what the deceased person would've wanted to tell them— "LIVE ON" or "I LOVE YOU" or something.

[scribblesandink]

Apollo laughed, anger in his eyes

"Absolutely not. You haven't earned that"

"We haven't earned basic respect? "

"No. Normally I'd start out that way, but I spent all of yesterday afternoon and night trying to comfort my 4 year old when she cried over her favorite thing being destroyed. The fact that you can let your child behave that way and be fine with that has shown me you do not deserve my respect or civility"

"It's just a bag. How much did it cost? Here"

The boy's father pulled out his wallet and tried to hand him a bunch of money, much more than the bag was worth. Apollo just stared at it in disgust while Audrey bit back a smile and enjoyed the show

"Your child hurt my daughter. Delia has been nothing but kind to pretty much everyone, and you think this is okay? You think you can just pay me off and be done with it? "

"What more is there to do? Boys will be boys, he probably likes her"

"You teach him to learn where his presence isn't wanted and how to show affection outside of harassment and vandalism of her property. Because if he pulled this shit as an adult, he would either get beaten unconscious or arrested"

"Excuse me? "

"You're excused. I don't want your money, that's not why I'm here"

He turned to the teacher, who was cringing in he'd seat from his yelling. He didn't realize his mask had slipped and was scaring the shit out of her

"Are you going to handle this? Or am I going to teach my 4 year old how to throw a punch? "

"I... Um... No.... I'll handle it. It won't happen again, I'm so sorry"

He continued to glare around the room, making everyone cringe, until Audrey squeezed his hand and called him off. The boy's father looked shocked and extremely uncomfortable

The meeting concluded with everyone agreeing to either keep him away from Delia or to teach him that it wasn't okay. As they all walked out of the room, they saw the children in the classroom. They watched almost in slow motion as the boy pulled Delia's hair and she whipped around. They could almost hear her little fist connecting with his face. Blood squirted from his broken nose as he screamed, immediately beginning to cry as Delia's lower lip wobbled

Apollo ran into the room with everyone else right behind him as he kneeled in front of Delia, stroking her face and trying to stop her tears

"It's okay, my baby girl. Are you alright? Did he hurt you? "

"He... Pulled my hair.... "

"I know, love. I saw. You did the right thing? "

"Are you kidding?" Apollo snapped at him, holding Delia to his chest while she cried into his shoulder "That was instant karma. He fucked around and he found out"

"I could sue! "

"Do it! See how far that gets you in court"

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[mochiwonz]

✉ - won the boyfriend lottery ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : insecure fem!reader x sweet bf!ni-ki , FLUFF , skinship (hugging , kissing , hand holding etc) , cursing , petnames (nini , baby , my love etc) , reader loves the scent of vanilla , lots of lovee <33

𓍯𓂃 word count : 2.1k

𓍯𓂃 note : i really reallyy think that as much as ni-ki is playful and likes to tease ,, he would definitely be the most caring, gentle, and understanding boyfriend ever :3 i hope that atleast some of you can find this fic relatable (i know i can) and i hope you enjoyy ♡♡

You look in the mirror, you're wearing a fitted top and flared jeans. Complimenting the outfit, you're wearing bow earrings and pretty rings, and of course some cute makeup. You're supposed to be feeling all pretty and confident, right? But actually, you're feeling the exact opposite. It's like the longer you look at yourself, the uglier you get. Fuck, why is it so hard for you to feel pretty?

Giving up, you change back into your baggy basketball shorts and xl baggy tee.

You've always preferred baggier clothes because 1. they were more comfortable and 2. people don't pay attention to your body. One could say that you were quite insecure. You've never felt gorgeous, at most you've felt okay, average, or mediocre. You've always found something wrong with your face, your uneven eyes, the one bump that won't seem to go away, or your dark circles. You wonder how those pretty girls do it. How they just walk around flawlessly, wind blowing through their hair perfectly and their skin basically glowing. Gosh, you really hated how you looked and how insecure you were. You thought you could never be loved by someone, ever.

That was until your boyfriend, ni-ki appeared in your life, and you couldn't be more grateful. It was like the universe knew when you needed him the most and boom, there he was.

Of course, you were still very insecure, it was nothing compared to how you were one year ago. Ni-ki had always made it very clear that he understood you and that you were absolutely beautiful, even if you couldn't quite see it yet. Everytime you felt insecure, he could immediately tell and instantly went to comfort you. Everytime that you felt unsure about anything, he would reassure you. He made you feel understood and seen, something you hadn't felt since...well...ever. People would always tell you, "you don't need to be insecure" or "just stop being insecure" as if it was really that easy.

Fast forward to today, it was your guy's first anniversary as a couple. You still remember the day he confessed, you also remember being so confused. How did someone as beautiful and perfect as him end up being attracted to you?

To put it simply, you were the most gorgeous human being he had ever laid his eyes on. The first time that he laid his eyes on you in senior year of highschool, he knew that you were the one. He never expected such a beautiful girl to be so insecure, but that didn't matter to him. Everyone worried about something, your worry just happened to be your appearance and overall self. He understood. He truly did.

Anyways, you and ni-ki agreed on just going out to get his favorite gongcha milk tea and come back to your place to cuddle and watch an anime. You guys didn't care if it wasn't that "special", because all you really wanted to do was be in each other's presence.

You didn't wanted to be perceived as the hot boy's ugly girlfriend. That's why you were trying to dress up like the pretty girls you've seen on social media. We already know how it went, and now you're in baggy basketball shorts and a baggy tee.

What if ni-ki doesn't like it? What if he thinks you look bad today? Should you just put more effort and atleast try to look "good"?

"y/n, baby, you're so fucking gorgeous. you don't have to dress up and put on alot of makeup for me to find you beautiful. you could be bald and i'd still find you so gorgeous. and don't worry about what other people think of you, why does it matter at the end of the day?" you remember him telling you.

Right, ni-ki loves you for who you already are, and you try to remind yourself of that everyday. Of course, it's hard- but you're trying.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you hear a knock on your door and a voice from outside. A very familiar voice, one that you could recognize literally anywhere.

"babyyy it's meee" ni-ki says from the other side of the door, and you already know he has the cutest smile on his face right now. He might be 6ft and all, but he's your giant baby.

"coming!!" you exclaim while excitedly running to the door, trying not to slip. Let's just say you've slipped a few times before.

Opening to the door, you're met with a smiling ni-ki. And wow- he looked so good. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with some red designs on it and some baggy jeans. On top of that, he also had some silver rings and a silver chrome hearts necklace on and honestly, you were fighting the urge to lunge at him right now. God knows how you were controlling yourself.

He quickly brings you into his embrace, engulfing you in his warmth.

"my baby, i missed youuuu" he says in a sweet tone of voice, still hugging you. He was always so sweet to you, you truly think you won the boyfriend lottery.

You look up at him with hearts in your eyes. "i missed you too ki" you respond, talking in the same sweet tone of voice.

"here, wait- we should go inside, i still need to get ready" you tell him. He nods while intertwining your guy's hands and lets you drag him inside. To be honest, he didn't think you needed to get ready. You were always gorgeous in his eyes, no matter what you were doing.

You bring him into your bedroom, and he instantly smiles at the familiar scent of vanilla. Of course, he was very well aware of your love for vanilla. The way you had 4 different type of vanilla candles on your bedside table and so many different vanilla perfumes was so endearing to him. Quietly, he sits down on the edge of your bed and watches as you go to quickly grab some clothes. He quickly notices that these clothes aren't very you.

"baby, since when did you start wearing such fitted tops? i mean, don't get me wrong- i bet you'd look so good. but i'm just wondering" he asks curiously.

"oh," you say quietly "i just wanted to look pretty for you"

Ni-ki slightly frowns at your words. He wished you knew how effortlessly beautiful you already were. He gets up from your bed and walks towards you, wrapping his large arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. He makes eye contact with you through the mirror and pulls you closer to his chest.

"my love you always look so pretty. trust me. just wear whatever you're comfortable in, okay?" he tells you in a soft voice. He kisses the top of your head and smiles at you. God, he's so good at reassuring you. You're so in love with this man.

Feeling less pressured after hearing what he said, you put down the clothes and instead, put on one of the oversized hoodies that he lent you. Your favorite one actually, it smelt just like him. After putting it on, you have a comfortable smile on your face, visibly showing that you feel much better. Ni-ki notices the instant change in your energy, and he loves seeing you like this.

"my girl, you're so cuuteee i love you so much" he says while admiring you. He turns you around so that you're facing him and he just stares at you, admiring your beauty in all is glory. Getting shy, you bring your face down and bury it in his chest.

"nini i love you too my big baby" you tell him as you finally look back up at him and go on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips. You loved his pretty plump lips, he was really the most beautiful man ever. He giggles and pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. He loved you so so much.

"you're so beautiful" he says as he brushes your hair away from your face, "god i could stare at you forever my pretty girl"

You could already feel how hot and red your cheeks were, you always got like this because of him. He always said such nice things to you and always showered you in compliments, what did you do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?

"i love you" you tell him while smiling "we should go to gongcha now though, they might be closing soon"

Ni-ki completely forgot about the boba, shit. Agreeing with you, he grabs your tote bag for you and opens the door for you.

"for you m'lady" he says playfully while bowing at you. You giggle and bow back at him, matching his playful energy. He finds you so adorable, and so he ruffles your hair and closes the door behind him.

He quickly intertwines your guy's hands and sways them back and forth. He was always so happy around you, your energy and presence just made him so happy.

Once you guys got back to your place, you decided that you wanted to have a skincare night. You might not be the best at makeup, but you loved your skincare. He, of course- found you so adorable. And of course, he let you do his skincare. He'd let you do whatever you wanted, honestly.

You quickly run to your bathroom and grab your skincare, face masks, and skincare headbands. Ni-ki looks at you, slightly confused, not understanding why you had so many things in your hands. He helps put the items onto your bed and sits down, waiting for you to do his skincare. You wipe his face down with micellar water and put the face mask on him. He just stares at your beautiful face, enjoying how close you are to him. Swiftly, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

Shit, your face was hot again. Ni-ki giggles and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"kiiiii" you whine, "you got the face mask serum on my face"

"sorry baby, you're just too cute" he teases and gives you another kiss, but on the lips this time.

You smile fondly at him and start putting your own face mask on, asking ni-ki to help you. Of course, he helps you and notices how big his hands are compared to your face. He loves it. You were so tiny compared to him.

Once it was on, you take out your phone to take a selfie. You both loved taking pics together, so that you could look back and laugh at them. After taking the picture with him, you pull out your wired earphones and give him one of them. Another thing you guys loved to do together was listen to music. You both enjoyed music, although you didn't dance like him- you still loved it just as much.

Getting comfortable, you both get under the comforter and he wraps his arms around your waist, your back facing his chest. He rests his head in the crook of your neck and pulls you closer to him. (if that was even possible) He loves how you smell, he could really smell your vanilla shampoo and conditioner now and he almost melts. He feels so relaxed, and you do too. You could hear ni-ki's breathing because he was right next to your ear, and you loved being so close to him. By the way he was breathing, you could tell he was asleep.

Slowly, you shuffle your body around so that you're facing him now, chest to chest. You gently take off the face mask and pat the serum into his skin, making sure you doesn't wake him up. You observe his beautiful features, his pretty eyelashes, his pouty lips, and your favorite- his pretty moles. You loved his moles, especially the one on his chin. He always told you how beautiful you were, and you realized you didn't tell him enough about how absolutely handsome he was, inside and out.

You promised yourself that from now on, you would tell him at least 100 times every. single. day.

You brush your fingers through his pretty hair and lovingly trace his features with your smaller hands. Without realizing, your eyes start to get glassy. Ni-ki was so beautiful on the outside, but also so beautiful on the inside. He always made sure you were doing okay mentaly and reminded you of how beautiful of a person you were.

After staring at him for (at least) 5 whole minutes, you take off your own skincare mask and decide to just call it a night. You really didn't want to get out of this comfortable position.

Ni-ki is so special to you, and you love him so fucking much. He's had such a positive effect on your self esteem and mental health and you're forever grateful. He was your soulmate, you were very sure of that. Nobody compared to him, and nobody was ever going to compare to him.

Honestly, you won the boyfriend lottery.

this is the longest fic i've ever wrote and surprisingly, i don't feel too bad about it! pls reblog if you enjoyed <33 my other works are here :D

[theagstd]

One Night Stand ; 39

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter thirty nine ; wc | 5.8 k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Jungkook watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, adored by the peaceful look on your sleeping face. He's seen you asleep countless times, yet this morning feels different—

you're glowing more than ever. He likes to think it's because of him, that he's responsible for both the afterglow and the glow of pregnancy. He's lost track of time, aware only that he's been lying here well past his work hours.

With the tension from your recent fight, he's missed Saturday at the office and hasn't checked his emails, too stressed to focus. He knows he should get up and work, but how can he pull himself away when you're so beautifully asleep on his chest?

his eyes move around your face, taking in your features. the length of your eyelashes, your perfectly sculpted nose and your pouty lips that part just slightly with each quiet breath. your hand rests on his naked chest under your cheek he knows will leave red imprints on your pale skin.

his fingertips reach to tuck the baby hair behind your ears, and slowly he allows himself to do this action. you hum at the contact of his warm skin on your cold face as you push yourself closer and deeper into him, even though that's impossible when you're already so close to him.

he smiles at that, it makes you look like a baby laying on him. he doesn't want to wake you up but his duties call for him, although he doesn't really give a damn about it since he's so caught up in this beautiful dream with you, he must go. "baby.." He whispers, hoping to wake you up nice and easy.

You hum a little, shifting around, your hand searching for something he can't quite figure out. He looks at you, a bit confused, as your fingers keep roaming across his chest. Gently, he rests his hand on your arm, and you grab it, tucking it under your neck like it's the most natural thing.

Jungkook can't help but laugh, totally charmed by how cute you are. "Baby....i've got to go." he murmurs and you whine like a child. "I don't want to leave you too but.. i have to." "stay.." you mumble and he pouts. he wishes he could, he wants to, so badly.

"I'll be back soon, I promise." he drapes his arm around you and caresses your naked back. your skin so smooth and soft, he loves touching you, he could do it all day. "promise?" you ask. you're still half asleep, you have no idea what you're mumbling but you know you're being a whiny mess. "I promise, darling."

he places a kiss on your temple, his nose touching yours, and he lets himself stay like that for some time. "when you get back..." " mm?" "can you get me some strawberry tanghulu?" you ask and he frowns as he detaches his face from yours to look at you. "tanghulu?" "mm hmm, I saw them in my dream."

"them?" "them...they were dancing tanghulu's- before you laugh at my face! I don't know why it came to life."  you say, your tone growing sharper, almost defensive. But that only makes Jungkook laugh harder, especially since your voice went up an octave as you tried to sound serious even though you're sleepy.

"alright, i'll get them for you." your eyes flutter slowly as you open them wide to look at him. his galaxy orbs stare at you while he bites on the inside of his cheek, making that dimple you love more visible. you lift your head to see him, a small smile plays on your lips as your eyes slowly drift shut, the exhaustion pulling you back under.

You can barely fight it, wishing you could fast-forward to nightfall and sink into sleep all over again. "you're tired, sleep. I'll be back soon. you won't even feel it." "but i will. you're so warm-" you hug him tighter as you press your head inside his neck.

"and it will be so cold when you leave." you continue. you're being extra clingy and it's something he hasn't really seen. you're fond of touch and being around him but, this clingy? he thinks he's unlocked a different side of you and he loves it so much more. "i know baby. wait for me okay."

you nod as he places a kiss on your forehead and runs his fingers in your hair. "i think it's because i haven't slept well the past two days." he hums and says 'me too.' Jungkook forces himself to get off the bed, he's fully aware that if he spends another minute with you he's not gonna be able to pull away.

he takes a warm shower after he chooses his suit for the day. he walks out of the washroom with a towel draped around him and then puts on his shirt and trousers. you've wrapped your hands around his pillow still dozing off. he oils his hair then proceeds to button up his shirt and do his tie.

He can't take his eyes off you, wondering why he hadn't done this sooner—why he hadn't let you sleep next to him in his bed, in his room. You just look so right here, like you belong. He swears he's never seen anyone look so beautiful. It's like you're the light his darkroom was missing, like you complete it in a way he didn't even know he needed.

he walks over to you while he fastens the buttons on his wrist as he leans closer to your face. "i'm leaving baby. take care okay." "mm hmm." "have your meds and text me if you need anything." "okay.." he places a peck on your nose and smiles as he grabs his coat and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

This morning, Jungkook feels like an entirely new person, and it's all because of you. Arguing with you had drained the life out of him, and only now does he realize how weak he'd been over the past two days. The workload he's facing is intense, he should be feeling stressed and anxious.

Yet, as he sits in the back seat with his driver taking him to the office, he has a foolish grin on his face, replaying memories of last night and how beautiful you look today. he sighs as he leans his head back on the seat and he prepares himself to face the work that waits for him.

He also recalls the visit to your parent's place and makes a mental note to book the tickets this week.

;

You're woken by the restless, uncomfortable movements of your baby, who refuses to let you sleep on your left side. Turning to the right is a struggle too, with the weight of your belly, so you decide to get up. The pillows still carry Jungkook's scent, and for some reason, it makes you giggle like a lovesick girl.

Now and then, you take a small sniff, smiling as you relax. Maybe starting today, you'll see him try to love this baby as much as you do. You really hope he does. you pull yourself out of his soft bed and walk back to your room. you're greeted by Bam who sleeps on the bed, he lifts his head up when he senses you entering and immediately runs over to you.

"ohhh Bammie! i've missed you." you speak to the Doberman who twirls around your feet as if he's meeting you after weeks. "i'll be right back okay." he barks at you and you give him a little pat before you grab your outfit and walk into the washroom.

you freshen up and relax on your couch as Bam sits beside you waiting for his pets. Maya knocks on your door and you give her your brightest smile. "good morning y/n.." "morning Maya!" She walks over and gives you a quick pat on the head, taking a moment to notice the charming changes in your features.

Your smile is wider, your eyes are bright and full of excitement, and your voice is lively and high-pitched. the old woman knows everything has been settled and she couldn't have been happier about it. "I'm starving... could you maybe get me something sweet for breakfast?" you ask, and she clasps her hands together in delight.

"Absolutely! I'll be right back with something freshly made." Maya's over the moon that you've asked her for something sweet—her specialty. It's been a while since anyone has requested this; her children live far away, and she hasn't seen her grandchildren in a long time.

Living alone, she's thrilled to have someone to cook for again. Feeding people is her passion, and having the chance to prepare a meal for a pregnant woman feels like a true blessing. It's not like Maya hasn't been cooking for you, she makes something for you every day. But it's always savory, a wrap or a sandwich, never anything sweet.

You're finishing up a book, but after so much reading and TV, you're starting to feel restless. You want something fun to do, but you're also too tired to move around much. Your gaze drifts over to the baby clothes still in their plastic bag. You've only bought a few things so far; there's so much more to get, and the thought of going baby shopping again excites you.

Maybe this time Jungkook could come along? Although Hoseok was amazing, too. he was not only curious but also wildly enthusiastic. You realize you haven't texted him since last evening, so you check your phone. Sure enough, he's left you a bunch of messages, mostly asking you about how you're feeling.

he's a good friend, he checks up on you and the baby and always leaves you smiling. Hoseok's a true friend, and you know you should keep him forever. While replying to his texts, your mom's call comes through, so you answer. "Y/N! How are you, darling?"

she greets you warmly. "I'm feeling the best! How are you and Dad?" you reply. "Oh, we're doing well! I was thinking, when are you coming to visit us? You always say 'soon,' but you never tell us when." You hum, then answer, "Probably next week? I want to see you too."

She immediately responds, "Come, then! Oh, and I have something to tell you." You sense she's going to bring up someone. "What now, Mom?" "Jessica, your dad's cousin's daughter—remember her?" You can barely recall, but you go along.

"Yeah, what about her?" "She dropped by with gifts to celebrate her twins! She looks so beautiful in her pregnancy; she's glowing!" You stiffen, rolling your eyes at the thought of what they might say about you. "Wow... I'm so happy for her,"

you respond as she continues to talk about them and how your relatives are doing although you don't really bother about them at all. your responses go as a hum or a yeah or wow without indulging too much with it. you look over at Bam and he tilts his head with his round eyes and you copy him and mouth blah blah blah while patting the dog's body.

Maya walks in with a warm smile, carrying a plate decorated with something so delicious and beautifully presented. "Mom, I'll talk to you later—uh, I've got to catch up on something," you say, waiting until she declines the call.

You sit up, folding your feet underneath you, eagerly waiting for Maya to place the plate on the coffee table. "I hope you enjoy a well-done French toast and berry compote," she says. Your mouth parts in awe as you look at how elegantly she's decorated the plate—almost like a dish for MasterChef. "This looks so stunning! It's too perfect to eat!" you exclaim, marveling at the effort she put into the details.

"This makes me feel like it's Christmas!" you add, pouting in delight. Maya is thrilled by your reaction, thinking the time she spent on this dish was more than worth it. "Enjoy, dear!" she says happily. "Thanks, Maya, you remind me of my late grandmother..."

you whisper the last few words, but the old woman catches on. "She must've loved you so much," she says softly. You sigh, leaning back, memories of your beloved grandmother flooding your mind. She used to make her famous apple cinnamon rolls just for you, even though your mother would scold her for spoiling your teeth.

But you both would do it secretly when your parents were out at work, and it was just the two of you. Maya realizes that you share a special bond with your grandmother and expresses her hope of creating a meaningful connection with you as well.

She knows how deeply Jungkook loves you—she can feel it, understanding how hard it has been for him to open up and love again after years of guarding his heart. But with you, it's different. She can see the love you both share, and she eagerly awaits the day those feelings are fully confessed, believing that when that happens, the house will be filled with joy, warmth, and laughter.

"Oh darling, I'm honored that I remind you of your grandmother," Maya says softly. "Maybe you could tell me more about her and the food she used to make for you. I'm a grandmother too, you know. I love my grandkids, but they live so far away...." You find it sad that many grandchildren don't get to spend time with their grandparents. It feels like an essential part of growing up—the love, care, and cultural heritage that only grandparents can pass on.

It makes you reflect on your own family, realizing with a pang of sadness that your children might miss out on those special experiences once your parents are no longer around since you're settled in Korea and them in Canada. "Maybe I could share those experiences with you," Maya offers gently.

"You're like a child to me, too." Looking at her, you notice how beautiful she is, her gentle features and the way her sagging skin crinkles into a heartwarming smile. Her warmth and the kindness in her voice feel so grandmotherly, exactly what you need in this moment. "Thank you, Maya,"

you respond with a smile. "I'd love that!" she leaves after a moment of silence. You quickly grab your phone to snap a picture of the beautiful dish and the moment, adding a little heart to the image before posting it on Instagram. You smile at how adorable it looks. Then, you take a bite of the thick brioche French toast—nothing like the typical, thin slices.

The warm berry compote, creamy whipped cream, and delicate dusting of icing sugar send you straight to heaven. The softness of the toast, the perfect balance of sweetness and tartness from the compote, and the airy cream combine in a way that's even better than you expected. It's so delicious,

you know it's something you'll be craving again soon. Jungkook replies to your story and that's something that happened for the first time because you haven't posted anything for a long time.

Jungkook replied to your story ; you're eating all that without me?

you giggle at his reply. Somehow everything feels different today, you know why yet you like to keep it a mystery.

; you left me so you don't get any.

J ; i didn't leave you hun, i was forced to!

; anyway... you did so :(

J ; i like it when you're whiny

; i think i'm coming out of my character, i should go back to being annoying

J ; omfg NO.

he's so cute that he leaves you all giddy. you can't wait for him to come home, you miss him so much that it hurts. Jungkook, on the other hand, has been having a rough day and even weird that his staff gave him a look whenever he made eye contact with them, but every text you send him brings him a sense of calm.

You're his safe haven, the missing piece he didn't know he needed, and he feels it deeply. Work has been a struggle lately, adding to his stress. So, when he hears a knock on his door, he calls out, "Come in," without thinking. His eyes land on the man standing before him, and after a double take, he lets out an angry sigh. "What are you doing he—" "What are these pictures?"

the orange-haired man cuts Jungkook off, tossing an envelope of photos onto his desk. Jungkook grabs it, irritated, and opens it. As he pulls out the pictures, he realizes they're of moments he never knew were captured.

His eyes widen at the photos of him holding you at the picnic, kissing you, and even some from your trip to Paris—the greasy pizza he warned you not to eat, and shots from the business party he attended in France. "You're doing the exact same thing Taehyung was doing, and now it's fine with you?"

Yoongi questions, leaning against the table. Jungkook stares at the photos, alarmed and confused. Who could have taken these secret pictures of you both? Jungkook hadn't fully registered Yoongi's words, but when they finally sank in, his eyes snapped up, seething. "Say that again," he demanded.

Yoongi took a breath and repeated himself. With that, Jungkook rose from his seat, his glare icy. "Don't you dare compare me to that bastard!" "Kook, if you're doing the same thing, what difference is there between you two?" "I don't take advantage of women! You know me! How could you even—"

"How could you think so low of me?" he asked quietly, disappointment thick in his tone. Yoongi smiled bitterly, looking down. "You think I haven't heard the rumors? Don't you think I read the magazines? Think I don't read the magazines or keep up with what you do?" He took in the success surrounding him as he stepped closer to Jungkook.

"If you knew so much about me, why would you hide?" Jungkook shot back. "That's not the point, Jungkook! What matters is what you do now—" "I don't sleep around anymore!" Jungkook yelled, closing the distance between them until they were almost chest-to-chest. Yoongi held his ground, determined not to let this turn into a physical fight.

He knew Jungkook's strength and his temper; so he kept his voice steady, refusing to escalate things. "that's not what the pictures say? i can't believe you got some women pregnant when you were so against t-"

"It's my wife!" Jungkook snapped, the words cutting through the room.

Yoongi's frown deepened, studying Jungkook's expression, searching for any sign of truth in his words. Jungkook exhaled sharply, finally stepping back from Yoongi and sinking into his chair. He rested his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands. He hadn't meant to reveal it like this;

he knew he had to say something, but he hadn't expected it to come out in such a raw, exposed way. the older's lips part as he tries to take it in but he can't. he thinks he may have misheard it. "what?!" he asks and hears jungkook whine. "she's...not my wife but she's my- everything." Jungkook mutters under his breath, never expecting to admit this out loud, especially not to someone he'd looked up to for so long.

Yoongi takes a closer look at the pictures. He can't make out the woman's face clearly, but he notices how her bump grows in each photo. "When... when did this happen? How did you—" "It's... different now. I haven't been with anyone else since," Jungkook says quietly. Yoongi can hardly believe it.

After years of Jungkook being caught up in one scandal after another, he hadn't even realized that phase had come to an end. Spending time away, he'd only seen pictures of Jungkook and some pregnant woman circulating online, and he was worried Jungkook might've been making another mistake. He didn't want to see him go down that road.

"Kook..." Yoongi says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. When he looks at Jungkook's face, he sees tears brimming in his eyes. "I was... worried when I saw these in the media." Yoongi turns back to the photos, feeling a bit relieved. Your face isn't visible in any of them—hidden by a kiss here, taken from behind there, or perfectly covered by a pizza slice.

Jungkook nods at the older words as he makes a mental note to check social media when he's free. Jungkook hadn't noticed anything was off, even though people in the building had given him strange looks as he walked to his office. "So... how is she?"

Yoongi asks, curious. Jungkook rarely talks about his relationships, so Yoongi wants to know if this is really something serious. Jungkook's face softens, and a faint smile appears as his eyes light up just thinking about you. "She's..." he trails off, mumbling, then gets quiet. Yoongi holds back a smile. "She's the one,"

Jungkook finally says, his voice low but certain. Yoongi takes a seat across from him, waiting for Jungkook to say more, but he doesn't. After a beat, he asks gently, "And... the pregnancy?" Jungkook shifts uncomfortably. The way he met you, and how things unfolded—it wasn't exactly a fairy tale.

"i met her at a club..."  Yoongi senses he's touching on a sensitive topic when he notices Jungkook's hesitation, so he keeps his tone light. "How many months along is she?" Jungkook's pulse quickens, panic bubbling up—he doesn't actually know. He has no real details about his child, and that realization brings a wave of anger and sadness.

Yoongi frowns, noticing Jungkook gulp and crack his knuckles. "She's about... six months along," he answers quickly, making it clear he doesn't want more questions, and Yoongi catches the hint. "Great, I'm happy for you both," Yoongi nods, giving Jungkook a steady look before getting to his feet.

"I'll head out, then..." Jungkook nods, and as Yoongi heads to the door, he pauses. "I hope we can catch up again sometime. Start fresh, if you're open to it... things have changed. Maybe we can all be better, too."

He offers a tight smile, then steps out of the room. Jungkook lets out a deep breath, sinking into his chair as he covers his face with his hands. No matter what Yoongi says, he knows he could never go back to them. Things may have changed, but the past is still there, unerasable—and he isn't ready to let it go.

Yoongi's presence stirs up his frustrations, yet there's a part of him that misses seeing him, the familiarity of having him around, even with all the weight of old memories. he may have changed in some ways, but he still wears the same comfortable sweaters and shirts, and he still speaks with his usual wisdom.

Outwardly, nothing seems different, except for the relationship that no longer exists between them. He pauses to breathe, feeling the stress build as worries about his image and the latest rumors churn in his mind. He's especially concerned about what people might be saying about you.

When he picks up his phone and checks Twitter, he sees the same photos Yoongi had left on his desk now posted online, along with captions like:

"Is the CEO of Jeon Industries going to be a father?"

"Is CEO Jeon Jungkook involved in another affair?"

He tosses his phone aside and gulps, his heart sinking. Rumors are one thing, but rumors involving you? That's something he can't stand. He needs to protect you.

;

Your next appointment is in two weeks, marking your eighth month of pregnancy—so close to labor now. You still don't know the baby's gender, but you aren't too curious; whether it's a boy or a girl doesn't really matter to you. All you want is a healthy baby, and you feel confident that will be the case.

As you watch the clock tick, you browse baby clothing websites, filling your cart with favorite outfits to choose from later. You're pretty sure you've added over 250 items by now, but who can resist when everything is so cute? Regardless of gender, you don't plan to stick to traditional colors ;

blue isn't just for boys, and pink isn't only for girls. After all, color doesn't define gender. Bam has been in a playful mood ever since he laid eyes on you. He jumps around, circles you, and constantly licks you, overflowing with affection. Your love for this dog is indescribable, and you can't wait to see the bond that will form between him and your baby.

After Jungkook shared his fears and expressed his desire to try, you're convinced that this has a real chance. You're not alone in this, and neither is your child. If Jungkook wants to make this a family, you're ready to embrace it with open arms, it's what you want, too. So, when you come across videos of dogs bonding with babies, you watch in awe, dreaming of that special connection for your own child and Bam. "aren't you a good boy Bammie?"

The Doberman gets so excited when you call him by the nickname you chose that he practically demands your attention, even while you're already petting him and talking to him. "Oh, you're such a good boy!" you coo, "and me?" just then, you hear Jungkook's voice as he approaches, setting his bag down by the couch.

After shrugging off his coat and washing up, he heads toward you, a warm grin on his face. "What about you?" you tease, noticing how his presence sparks a surge of energy within you. He's home, and he's getting closer, his eyes fixed on you with that look you love. He glances at you sitting comfortably in a fitted vest, your chest and baby bump so prominent, it's a sight he can't get enough of.

He gives Bam a gentle pat, motioning for the dog to move, then settles beside you. "Am I a good boy?" he asks, dimples showing as he bites his lip, watching you with those soft, round eyes. After a long, stressful day, being here with you fills him with the peace he's been craving. "Hmm," you murmur, moving your face closer to his, studying his tired features;

his slightly droopy eyes show his fatigue, yet the way he looks at you and smiles reveals he's still present. "You're okay. Not amazing, but not terrible," you say, tracing his jawline with your fingers. His eyes stay locked on your lips as you speak. After last night, Jungkook senses that there's more between you both. "Is that so?" he whispers, leaning in. "Yes..."

you hum, surprised when he softly kisses your lips. The touch relaxes you, like you've waited for it for days, not hours. "I missed you," he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. "Mm-hmm, me too..." you respond, fingers tapping on his smooth skin as you admire him. He gazes at you a moment, then clicks his tongue and looks away, asking,

"Which city do your parents live in?" "Toronto." "Thought so. I'll book the tickets then." You smile and nod, feeling slightly anxious. "For when?" "This Friday sound good?" he asks. "Yes." Jungkook picks up his phone, texting someone as he talks to you. "Let your parents know, then." "Okay..."

Your voice drops, and he notices, turning off his phone to look at you. "Nervous? Not sure what to expect?" he asks softly. You nod, eyes fixed on your bump, fingers tracing patterns on the couch fabric. "Hey..." he places a comforting hand over yours. "It'll be alright." You give him a tight smile and nod. "By the way... how far along is she?" he asks suddenly, surprising you.

"She's seven months now—almost eight in two weeks." Jungkook's eyes widen; it hits him just how close you are to the due date. "Wow..." he chuckles, realizing he'd guessed wrong when talking to Yoongi. Curious, you ask, "Why a 'she' now? Last night you called the baby a 'he.' What do you think the gender is?"

Instinctively, you feel it's a girl, but you want to know his thoughts. He hums, thinking aloud as he glances down at your bump, trying to decide. "I think... boy. But—" "But?" you prompt as he hesitates, his hand trembling as he reaches to place it on your bump, only to pull back and place it on your palm instead.

You guide his hand to rest over your bump, holding it there. He hesitates but eventually relaxes into the touch. "But...?" you ask again, watching him. He looks down, then smiles softly. "I want her." You blush at his words, the pink in your cheeks spreading across your face, making him smile.

He loves seeing you like this, and now that he's working on himself and the bond the three of you share, he realizes he's becoming a little obsessed with making you happy. "I want her too..." you murmur. "Looks like we're both on team girl, huh?" he replies, rubbing your bump and lingering, secretly hoping he'll feel a little kick. His gaze stays fixed on your belly, and you sense his wish, so you gently guide his hand lower.

"She's here. Just wait for her," you whisper, and he patiently focuses, waiting to feel something—anything at all. His brow furrows with concentration, but after a while, neither of you feel any movement. "Guess she's not in the mood for a kick," you say softly. He nods, smiling tightly as he pulls his hand away. "Maybe... she's just not ready for me either,"

he murmurs, his voice trailing off as he stands. Feeling a twinge of sadness, you stand as well, grabbing his coat while he picks up his bag, and the two of you head upstairs in silence. He takes a cold shower, then slips on his sweatpants and a black t-shirt before stepping out of the bathroom, and using a towel to dry his damp hair. You're sitting on the couch, watching him.

"What?" he asks, catching your gaze before turning to the mirror to apply his skincare. You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The bump presses into his back before the rest of you can it's a little awkward, but it works. You look up at him, meeting his eyes in the mirror's reflection.

"What's wrong?" you ask softly. He sighs, resting his hand over yours on his waist.  "just had a bad day.." he murmurs. "you can tell me about it, if you want to." Jungkook's heart clenches at how soft you sound like you do not want to intrude but you also want him to know that you're always there for him. he loves the feeling of being cared for and you give him, so much that he feels so lucky. "work is getting stressful."

he says leaving out the rumors and the whole Yoongi mess from you because he does not want to worry you. "it will be fine. work is not work if it isn't stressful." You say this, and he chuckles, nodding.

Your hand rubs his stomach to comfort him, sending a flutter through him. He loves how gently you treat him, like he's someone precious, making him feel like a child in the best way. "Hey, you come here!" he says, grabbing your hand and turning you to face him, his tone playful. You can't help but smile as he relaxes. "I think you're forgetting something..."

he teases, watching you frown in thought. He bites his inner cheek, waiting for you to remember that silly dream you had. "What did I forget?" you ask, a bit lost. He groans, laughing. "Your dancing tanghulu dream!" "Ohhh!" you start to laugh, trying to hold it in, but it escapes, and he chuckles along with you.

"I got them for you," he says. "You did?!" you exclaim, eyes lighting up. He nods, leading you downstairs, where a brown paper bag sits on the counter. You open it to find a box with strawberries, grapes, and tomatoes coated in a glistening sugar syrup, skewered on sticks. your eyes sparkle at the fruits in front of you as you grab one and poke it into your mouth.

"careful bear, the edge might hurt you." He leans back against the counter, watching as you savor a mouthful of the crisp, sugar-coated fruits. A soft moan escapes you as you close your eyes, head tilted back in bliss. "My cravings are finally satisfied!" you declare. "Is that so?" he teases. "Mm-hmm, try one!"

You bring a piece to his lips, but he shakes his head, smiling. "Have one!" you insist, nudging him. He wraps his arms around your hips, opening his mouth as you press a strawberry to his lips. He bites into it, and your palm hovers beneath his chin to catch any sugar bits that fall, which you quickly pop into your mouth, licking your fingers. "Good, right?" you ask.

"Mm-hmm," he hums, satisfied. As you reach for a grape skewer, he gestures for you to stand between his legs, so you press your back to his chest, leaning into him as you munch on the rest of the fruit. Occasionally, you offer him a bite, though you end up eating most of it yourself. "Happy?"

he asks, and you nod eagerly. His heart swells as he watches you, delighted just to see you smile. Gently, he brushes his fingertips along your lips, collecting the little sugar crystals, then pops them into his mouth. When he reaches to get the last bit, you stick out your tongue, licking his finger clean.

His eyes darken slightly, watching you with a smirk. "You're quite the tease." you slowly nod with your lips still wrapping around his finger, your tongue rolling. "you taste good." you say after you let go of his finger with a pop sound. "you know what else tastes good..."

his voice raspy as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "what is?" you whisper innocently, like have no idea what he's gonna say next when you very well know what it is. "my dick, baby." your fingertip traces his chest and abs, you feel his nipple harden at your touch, he bites back a moan. "that i know."

you whisper as you lean closer to him, pressing your lips on his neck. "y/n.." he groans and grips your hips tighter. "yes babe..." the butterflies that he felt when you call him that. "call me that again."

you press your lips to his ear and suck on it as you whisper. "babe.."

"fuck"

"you like that?" you ask as you palm his bulge.

"fucking love it."

next chapter ⇢