#but the fact that she CHOSE it in the first place. and would again. the near manic obsession with knowledge and learning

[lazer-screwdriver]

Going so insane thinking about Liz and Jack’s difference of opinion on immortality.

[sunniques]

— 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your stepdad shows you how blissful life would be if it was just you and him.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be carried by cheol, mentions of drugging, daddy kink, spanking, cockwarming, fingering, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, mirror sex, having sex while someone else is in the same room, creampies, squirting

➺ WC: 6.5k

NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read. thank you to my oomf @wonustars for beta reading <3

Seungcheol is conscious of the fact that he’s been acting out of character ever since his wife returned from visiting her parents. Maybe he’s being too obvious about no longer wanting to stay married, but he doesn’t care. Not when making you happy is the greatest joy in his life.

“Cheolie,” you say sweetly as you gently tug on his hand to get his attention. “Look at this one! It’ll look so good on you!”

You’re giddily pointing at one of the many necklaces on display. It’s exactly the type of jewelry he likes to wear, and his heart tightens with affection at the fact that you know that. Unlike his wife.

���Sir, box this necklace up for me please,” he says to the employee attending you two without looking away from your smiling face.

“The price—”

“It’s fine,” Seungcheol waves him off without any hesitation. “I’ll pay whatever price.”

Even the man blushes when Seungcheol brings your intertwined hands to his lips to place a sweet kiss on the back of your hand. His love for you is so clear, and he thinks it’s extremely sweet that your boyfriend(?) bought every single piece of jewelry you said will look good on him without any hesitation.

“What about you, sweetheart?” Seungcheol says as he tugs you closer. “Do you want anything else?”

You tilt your head with a thoughtful hum. The cute bracelet and matching rings were enough for you, but there is something else you want. Something that only Seungcheol could get you and would mean more to you than the things you picked out.

“Will you choose something for me?”

Seungcheol’s heart stutters at the way you blink up at him, eyes shining with affection and anticipation. There’s no way he could ever say no to you, and the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of you going around wearing something he chose for you. So he pulls you to the opposite end of the counter where the more expensive items are at.

After you’re done, Seungcheol savors the walk to the car. Your hand in his feels so right. It’s almost like his hand was made to fit with yours. Even on the drive home, Seungcheol doesn’t let go of your hand. He’s not ready to yet. Knowing that he’ll have to let you go and act like you didn’t spend the day together is getting harder for him. Having to hide everything he feels for you is bothering him more and more as the days go on.

“We’re home!” You call loudly as you walk into the large foyer.

“You’re back!”

Your mom rises from the couch when you step into the living room. Immediately, she goes to hug your stepdad. You stifle a laugh when Seungcheol obviously dodges her kiss and it lands on his cheek instead. Your mom frowns but doesn’t say anything. Instead she focuses on all the shopping bags in her husband’s hands.

“What’s all this?” She glances up at her husband before looking back at you. “Did you ask Seungcheol to take you shopping?”

“He offered,” you say casually, trying not to sound smug. “Since we’re spending next week at the villa.”

Your mom sighs and looks at her husband pointedly. “You didn’t need to buy her so many things.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Seungcheol says sincerely. “It’s the first time we’re going away together as a family, so I wanted to spoil her a little.”

Your mom frowns, but doesn’t argue. “Fine, but Y/N, at least help your stepdad with the bags!”

Seungcheol waves his wife off, assuring her once again that it’s no problem. You shrug insouciantly when your move gives you an irritated look. It’s not your fault her husband’s love language is acts of service (not that she would know). Instead of lingering downstairs so she can nag you, you follow your stepdad upstairs.

A warm feeling tugs on your chest when you see him set down all the bags beside your bed. You wonder what it would would be like to live every day like this—a life where it’s just you and him. The fleeting thought pushes you to go and hug him from behind.

Seungcheol smiles when you lean your head against him and tighten your arms around his waist.

“Thank you for my gifts, Cheolie.”

The words are spoken sincerely and with no trace of lust. Only with pure, unadulterated affection. It makes him smile wider. “You’re welcome, baby.”

You two stay like that for a while until your mom’s voice calls for her husband. A petulant frown takes over your face as you reluctantly step away from Seungcheol. It’s times like these where you wonder how much longer you can keep doing this. Sharing him wasn’t (that much of) an issue for you before, but things shifted drastically after the weekend you two spent alone. Now, Seungcheol feels more like yours than he ever has.

What you don’t realize is that your stepdad feels the same way, only his feelings are ten times more intense than your own.

That night, Seungcheol lays in bed and goes over his plan to make sure his wife doesn’t get in the way next week. He plans to have fun with you and only you. It’s the perfect opportunity to show you what a life with him will be like. By the end of the week, he knows you’ll want nothing more than to start a life where it’s just the two of you.

“Mom, it’s not a real vacation if you work the entire time,” you say with a sigh.

As usual your mom waves you off with a disinterested hum. She types away on her computer, only pausing to take a sip of her coffee. “I just need to answer a few emails.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

Even though it’s such a nice day out, your mom refuses to go anywhere. The most she’s willing to do is sit out on the terrace and work. It makes you wonder why she suggested this vacation in the first place.

“Why don’t you go keep Seungcheol company?” Your mom suggests without looking up. “He’s inside watching a movie.”

You sigh again and head to the living room where your stepdad is. Licking your lips, you go over and join him on the couch. Seungcheol smiles warmly when you sit down next to him. He wraps a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer. His hand slowly trails up until his fingers are teasing your nipple. The thin sundress you’re wearing makes it easy for him to get it to pebble.

“You look so cute, princess,” Seungcheol says as he roughly squeezes your tit. “Did you wear my favorite dress on purpose?”

The devious smirk you give him makes him groan quietly. He yanks up the hem of your dress, exposing your plush thighs and bare pussy to the cool air. Seungcheol licks his lips. “Fuck. You just wanted me to see your cute little cunt, didn’t you, brat?”

“Yes,” you say as your body burns with need.

You spread your thighs, bearing your dampening cunt completely for your stepdad. Seungcheol goes to cup your pussy, thumb slowly rubbing dizzying circles on your clit.

“You’re already so wet,” he groans in delight. “What a little slut.”

You mewl as he slowly sinks two fingers into your clenching hole. A loud whine gets stuck in your throat as Seungcheol’s fingers venture deeper into your needy cunt, eagerly seeking out the spongy spot that always reduces you to a moaning mess. You rock your hips slightly as you turn your head to bury it in his broad shoulder.

“Daddy,” you whimper as his fingers flex deeper into your soaked pussy. “Make me cum.”

“Nasty girl,” Seungcheol’s smirk is wolfish as he sinks a third finger into you. “You that desperate for me?”

Your cunt throbs and releases more juices as his long fingers scissor you open. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach as your tight walls flutter around his fingers. They slowly pick up the pace, reaching the spot that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yes—fuck. It feels so good, daddy,” you whine brokenly as your tight walls suck on his fingers.

“You’re going to get us caught if you keep being loud, baby,” Seungcheol groans as his thick cock strains against his sweatpants.

You moan softly when his fingers slide deeper inside you to press against the sensitive spot that always makes your brain shut down. He laughs in his throat when your eyes shut and your mouth drops open in a silent moan. The sound of your arousal gets louder with every passing moment. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as he grabs your leg to hook it over his own to spread your pussy wider for him.

“God, just look at how wet you are,” Seungcheol uses his free hand to grab the back of your head and force you to watch as he plays with your squelching pussy. “Dripping all over my nice couch.”

“Can’t help it, daddy,” you whimper as you watch his long fingers penetrate your tight hole. “I’ll lick it clean later.”

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, cock throbbing at your filthy words. You’re both entranced with how your cream is coating his long fingers, noticeably creating a ring where his wedding band is. You can’t deny that you love how your juices stain the metal. It’s like you’re claiming his as yours.

“Nasty little slut,” Seungcheol growls as he works your pussy open. “You like daddy fingerfucking you while your mom is on the terrace?”

You close your eyes and nod dizzily.

“Keep your eyes open, brat.”

The demand is followed by a harsh slap on your cunt. Your loud cry mixes in with the lewd sounding smack. Seungcheol quickly stifles your cry by smashing his lips onto yours. He swallows all your moans and mewls as he forces his tongue into your mouth. The way his tongue massages yours is enough to push you over the edge.

Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as your orgasm rips through you. Seungcheol groans into your mouth as you gush all over his fingers. Your soft cry sounds so hot, even if it is stifled by his mouth.

“That’s it, princess,” he murmurs adoringly as you grind into his hand. “Fuck. It’s so easy to make you cum.”

You whine when he slowly pulls his fingers out of your soaking cunt. Your pussy flutters when you see sticky strings of arousal clinging to his long digits. Seungcheol gives you a filthy smirk before he sucks on his fingers, groaning lowly at your sweet taste.

“Can I have your cock now, daddy?” You bat your eyelashes in the way that always gets him to do what you want.

Seungcheol immediately pulls down his sweats enough to let his cock spring free. It pulses with need as he goes to lay you on your back. Your dress is pulled higher to completely expose your messy pussy.

“Be good for me, baby,” your stepdad hisses as he rubs his leaking tip between your folds.

Your cunt clenches around nothing as Seungcheol collects your arousal on his cock. He smirks down at you before slowly easing into you. His groan makes you clamp down on him.

“Goddamn,” Seungcheol groans when he finally bottoms out. “Pretty little pussy’s always so fucking tight.”

Impatient as ever, you start to grind up into him, using his cock like a toy. Seungcheol’s eyes gleam with fondness as your juices smear all over his pelvis. He starts to move, hips grinding into yours. You moan quietly as his thick cock stretches and fills your needy hole.

“Harder, daddy,” you whine like the brat you are. “Make me cum all over your big cock.”

Seungcheol growls quietly. He loves how nasty and needy you get whenever your mom’s around. As always, he can’t deny you or himself that pleasure. Your stepdad starts fucking into you roughly, making your pretty tits bounce in your dress. He roughly yanks down the material, loving how hard your nipples are. He swoops down to suck and bite on them, hips never stopping as he fucks his thick cock into your aching cunt.

“Daddy!” You mewl, arching your back and forcing your tit deeper into his mouth.

You love how he’s fucking you like some mindless animal. His cock is drenched with your cream, completely coated to the hilt. You cry out when his leaking tip hits your sweet spot, repeatedly ramming it over and over again.

Seungcheol nips at your nipple before moving to give the other one the same attention. His heavy balls slap your ass with every thrust, and he can feel his orgasm quickly approaching.

The sound of the glass doors sliding open startles you, but not enough to tell your stepdad to stop. Seungcheol slows his movements, but makes no move to slip out of your pussy. He releases your nipple with a too loud pop and slowly straightens out. You cover your mouth with your hands, pussy clenching as you hear footsteps fade into the direction of the kitchen.

“Honey, where’s Y/N?”

Seungcheol eyes flicker down to you, cock throbbing at the sight of you all fucked out underneath him. All his wife has to do is walk in his direction to see her lovely daughter stuffed full of cock with her pretty tits out. She’d see the remnants of his spit on them and know he was licking and sucking on them like he’d never done to hers.

“She went upstairs. I think the movie bored her.”

Luckily, only your stepdad’s head and shoulders are visible from over the back of the couch. You’re completely hidden, which is why Seungcheol slowly starts to drive his girthy cock into you. You’re sure that if the movie wasn’t playing, your mom would be able to hear the lewd squelching coming from your pussy.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to have to jump on a call in a bit,” your mom says dismissively, clearly not too interested in your whereabouts. If only she knew. “I’ll be out on the terrace for a while.”

“Fine,” Seungcheol’s voice is a bit strained as his wife comes out of the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee. “Just make sure you tell your boss that this is the only call you’ll take this week.”

His hips have stopped moving by now, but the fact that you can tell your mom has come closer makes you clench down on his cock. You stifle a whine as you carefully grind on his dick. Your clit bumps against his pelvis, making your eyes cross from pleasure.

“You know I can’t do that,” your mom sounds disapproving as she looks down at her phone. “The company needs me. No one knows more about this proposal than I do.”

Using the distraction on her phone to his advantage, Seungcheol grabs your hips and pulls you down on him as he gently thrusts forward. The fat tip of his cock slams right into your sweet spot, and you can barely hold back your moan. Light tremors rake through your body as your stepdad keeps fucking you while his wife in none the wiser. His hands slip down to your thighs before he presses them into the couch to keep you spread for him.

Fuck. It’s such a filthy sight that he almost wishes his wife would see it. That way she would see for herself how much better you look taking his cock.

“Okay. Just let me know when you’re done working. Y/N wanted to go to the beach later.”

His heated gaze stays on you as his wife mumbles a dismissive agreement. Seungcheol’s cock throbs as his wife walks back out to the terrace, sliding the door closed with an audible click.

Seungcheol lets out a dark laugh and immediately goes back to pounding your hot cunt. He grabs your hips and pulls you to meet his rough thrusts. Loud squelching and skin slapping fills the large room as your ravenous stepdad uses you to get closer to his orgasm.

“God, baby. You get so tight when you think we might get caught.” Seungcheol groans loudly, knowing his wife has put in her earphones by now to focus on her meeting. “You like the idea of your mom catching you fucking her husband?”

You nod through an impetuous moan. “Yes—fuck. I wonder what she’d do if she saw how much better you like my little pussy.”

“Filthy little brat,” Seungcheol groans fondly as he keeps pumping his leaking dick into you.

“You like it too, daddy,” you moan as his frantic movements grow rougher. “Just knowing your wife might walk in and see you stretching me out on your big cock turns you on.”

Seungcheol moans, unable to deny it. He starts to rub fast circles on your raw clit, eager to get you to cum on his cock. He gives you a filthy smirk when you tighten around him again.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Cream all over my cock so I can fill you up like you want?”

Your stepdad fucks into you harder when you moan out a desperate yes. He rams his cock deeper into your pussy until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. Filthy noises mix in with the forgotten movie as Seungcheol’s thick cock spears into your messy hole. His fingers play with your sensitive bud, quickly driving you over the edge from how good it all feels.

You wrap your legs around him, pussy convulsing as you cream all over his dick.

Seungcheol groans out your name, sloppily fucking you through your orgasm. Your pulsing walls grip his cock tightly, effectively milking him for his hot cum. He shoots thick ropes into your pussy, filling you to the brim. You happily take it all, loving how it drips down his cock with every needy grind. He slaps your pussy playfully before capturing your lips in another nasty kiss.

You gently nip at his soft lips, not wanting to separate from him yet. “Let’s go upstairs, daddy. We need to clean up before lunch.”

Sometimes, you wonder if your mom cares about you at all. In the morning, you wake up to a text saying she’s cutting the vacation short because an emergency came up at work. You almost think you’re still dreaming until you rub the sleep out of your eyes and read the text again.

It’s not disappointing, not exactly. From the start you knew she didn’t actually want to go on vacation. It was just another attempt to save her failing marriage, but as usual, she put her career first.

You roll out of bed and go to the master bedroom. Right away, you can tell your mom is gone. All her stuff is gone, and you wonder just how early she got up to catch a flight back home. You pout when you notice that Seungcheol also isn’t in the room. Since your mom is gone now, you had planned to wake him up with some head. Just as you contemplate your next move, you hear noise coming from downstairs.

One thing you never thought you’d see is Seungcheol standing at the stove, shirtless and only wearing pajama bottoms. He’s cooking something that smells delicious, and the fact that he looks so hot doing it just makes it even better.

You quietly walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his chiseled torso. “Morning, Cheolie.”

“Morning, baby.” He says fondly.

Your stepdad shudders when you place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. He basks in your touch, glad that you don’t immediately pull away from him now that you’re alone.

“I’m glad she’s gone,” you say after a while. “That way I can have you all to myself.”

Seungcheol knows he’s blushing, and he’s glad that you can’t see it. His heart pounds as he hums in agreement.

“We can do whatever you want, baby. Just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

You grin against his back, already planning the perfect day with him in your head.

After you two have breakfast, you and Seungcheol head to the beach. It’s a beautiful day out, and you love that you can openly hold his hand and be affectionate with him to your heart’s content.

“Let me put sunscreen on you, princess.”

You lay on your stomach, humming in delight when your stepdad’s big hands smooth down your back and legs. He really works the cream into your skin, making sure no place goes untouched. Once he’s done, you grin at him.

“Your turn.”

Seungcheol feels like he’s in heaven. He’s lying on his back with you sitting on his lap in the tiniest bikini he’s ever seen. You’re rubbing sunscreen all over his chest and torso, cooing about how hot he is every thirty seconds. He sees other men looking at him with pure envy, and that just makes the experience all the more sweeter. Because he belongs to you, and it’s clear that everyone on the beach knows it.

You spend most of the day at the beach, building sandcastles and playing in the pretty ocean. Being with Seungcheol makes you feel alive and at ease. He’s so easy to be with, and you can tell he feels the same way.

When you return to the villa, Seungcheol tells you to shower and get ready because he’s taking you to one of his favorite restaurants. The way you run upstairs while squealing with excitement is so endearing to him. He yells a reminder to use the bathroom in the master bedroom since that’s where you’ll be staying for the rest of the week. He laughs heartedly when you respond with yes, daddy!

Seungcheol has never felt more lucky than he does now with you on his arm. You cling to him as you’re escorted to a secluded table with a fantastic view of the city. Seungcheol pulls out your chair, eyes trained on the glittering necklace around your neck.

“You keep staring,” you say teasingly as your stepdad goes to sit down.

“It’s because you look incredible in diamonds,” he says honestly. “I’ll have to get you matching earrings next time.”

Your stomach flips in excitement. Not because he’s talking about getting you something incredibly expensive to go along with the diamond necklace he bought you, but because he says it like you deserve nothing less.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, eying the necklace you picked out for him.

“My girl has incredible taste.” He says with a flirtatious smile.

The words make your heart stutter. It’s the first time he’s said something like that without being in a sexual setting. You don’t hate it. Actually, you like it a little too much.

“What kind of wine do you prefer?” Seungcheol wonders as he looks through the menu.

“Choose for me,” you say. “I want to know what you prefer.”

Seungcheol tries to contain his smile as he tells the waiter to bring a bottle of red wine. It’s hard not to feel like a giddy schoolboy when you make it clear the relationship you two have is not just one sided. His heart soars every time you demand to know more about him.

The rest of the night feels like a beautiful dream, one that neither of you want to wake up from.

“Let’s go upstairs. I want to fuck you properly.”

You laugh excitedly as Seungcheol leads you up the stairs. He’s playfully biting at your neck and letting his hands roam your body. It feels so blissful that you barely register that you’ve made it to the master bedroom.

Seungcheol spanks your ass before he’s desperately yanking your dress off. You go to take off the expensive necklace you’re wearing, but he stops you.

“Leave it on.”

You feel arousal drip down your thighs as you go to lay on the bed. Seungcheol quickly takes off his own clothes. His eyes are locked on your body, staring at you like you’re his prey. You’re no better. Like always, you can’t take your eyes off of his girthy cock.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” Seungcheol demands as he gets on the bed. “I need to taste you.”

You do as he says, eager to feel his tongue slipping through your folds. A loud moan cuts through the air when he buries his face in your pussy. He places open mouth kisses on your lips and clit, eager to make you fall apart on his tongue.

“Fuck, daddy,” you moan at you use your hands to hold yourself open for him.

Seungcheol fucks his tongue into your fluttering hole, moaning at the taste of you. He quickly loses himself in your taste, slurping up every bit of your arousal. You clench down on his tongue as he messily licks back up to your clit. You writhe underneath him as he sucks your pulsing bud into his hot mouth. Eagerly, you grind your clenching cunt into his mouth.

“So fucking sweet,” your stepdad groans as he slowly pulls back.

You cry out when he gives your pussy a harsh slap. The wet smack sends tingles up your spine. Your pussy is pulsing as you stare at Seungcheol with hungry eyes. His lower face is completely covered with your juices, and he’s never looked hotter. You moan when he slaps your cunt again. It hurts so good, and you arch into it when he keeps doing it. Each slap is harder than the last, and by the time he’s done, you’re gushing all over the sheets.

“Roll over for me, baby.”

You do as he says, pussy clenching in eagerness. He’s always so rough when he takes you from the back. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as he yanks you toward him. Just when you think he’s going to tease you, he sinks his cock into your pussy.

“Take daddy’s cock like a good little princess.”

You let out a wanton cry when he harshly bottoms out. His leaking tip slams right into your g-spot and forces more juices out of your hot cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you deepen your arch.

“Fuck me, daddy!”

Seungcheol growls in his throat before he pulls his cock out of you halfway only to slam it back into your clenching heat. Arousal gushes from your pussy at his rough movements. You can feel your juices dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. A quiet whine escapes you when Seungcheol grabs your hair and pulls your head up to make you look into the mirror across from the massive bed. The sight is so filthy and hot that you start to lose yourself in the pleasure of it all.

Your stepdad starts pounding into your tiny pussy, fat cock stretching you out just how you like. As your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hips start to move on their own accord, rocking back on him to get his dick deeper inside of you.

“That’s it, baby,” Seungcheol groans, drilling his cock deeper into your squelching pussy. “Work that hot little cunt on your stepdad’s cock. Fuck. Get it nice and wet for me.”

You move your hips more eagerly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Seungcheol hammers into your sweet spot. He’s relentless, fucking you like you’re nothing more than a hole.

“Keep your eyes on me, brat,” Seungcheol commands as he gives your ass a hard smack.

He meets your eyes in the mirror and smirks. God is he fixated on you and the way you look while he’s splitting you open. Your diamond necklace dangles with every rough thrust, and it makes his cock twitch and throb. As always, Seungcheol was right. You look so lovely getting fucked in the diamond necklace he picked out for you.

“Da-Daddy,” you gasp out.

“So fucking tight,” Seungcheol groans, fucking into you harder than before.

The sound of skin slapping together gets louder, and so do your filthy moans. You watch Seungcheol in the mirror, loving how hot he looks while he destroys your pussy.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy,” you whine as you spread your legs.

Seungcheol hums approvingly and starts snapping his hips into you. He slaps your bouncing ass, pistoning his big cock in and out of your dripping cunt like a madman. You’re completely gone, moaning and mewling like it’s all you know how to do. It makes him go harder, fucking into your tight little pussy with no mercy.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do this outside.” Seungcheol decides, cock throbbing at the idea. “I’ll fuck you out in the open like the nasty slut you are.”

You slip your fingers down to rub your pudgy clit, loving his filthy words and how much they turn you on. Seungcheol lets out a dark laugh when he notices.

“Like that? Yeah, I bet you do,” he groans, taking his eyes off the mirror to watch your pretty ass recoil against his pelvis. “Dirty little brat. I’m gonna cream your little pussy until you can’t take anymore.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you mewl. “You’re so dirty.”

Seungcheol laughs as he drills his cock deeper into your cunt. His heavy balls slap your clit and drive you closer to your climax. All your stepdad has to do is give you one last thrust to push you over the edge. You yell out his name as your pussy gushes with your orgasm. Your stepdad groans loudly at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing his dick.

“That’s it, princess. Cream all over daddy’s cock like a good girl.”

You bounce back on him, eager to get him to stuff you full. “Cum inside me, daddy!”

Seungcheol moans your name and fucks his cock deep into your cunt before releasing his hot load inside you. Your pulsing walls milk him for everything he’s worth. Thick ropes of cum flood your little pussy until it’s leaking onto the soiled sheets. Slowly, Seungcheol pulls his cock out of your messy pussy. He loves the sight of his cum dripping out of your pretty cunt. It makes him ravenous all over again.

“Get up.”

You lick your lips and follow your stepdad as he gets off the bed. A squeal escapes you when he presses you against the wall. Seungcheol kisses you hotly as he pulls you closer to him. You barely notice as he goes to pick you up. He effortlessly throws your legs over his bulky arms before he teasingly drags his dripping cock over your messy cunt.

“Guide me in, baby,” he says as he presses wet kisses on your jaw. “Let daddy slide into your tight pussy.”

You whimper, pussy dripping with revived arousal. Lust clouds your mind as you go to do as he says. With one hand on his broad shoulder, you grab his cum covered cock and guide it to your soaking entrance. His bulbous tip nudges your pussy before he sinks you down on his throbbing cock. His hips flex as he slowly starts to fuck up into your little cunt.

“God, baby. Your cute little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks his cock against your sweet spot. Lewd squelching fills the room as your stepdad bounces you on his cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his big dick stretches you out for the second time. The slight pain from his thrusts make you clamp down on his cock tighter.

“Daddy,” you mewl almost pitifully. “You’re gonna break my pussy.”

Seungcheol laughs. Not only because you sound so fucked out, but because you rock your pussy down to meet his unhurried thrusts. You’re addicted to his cock, and he loves that you can never hide it.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he coos, eyes fixed on the way your bouncing tits make the diamond necklace look even prettier.

“Fuck,” you moan when he starts to fuck you harder. You gasp and moan when his hands go to grab your ass.

“Pretty little brat,” Seungcheol groans as he kneads and squeezes your ass. “You always look so pretty when you’re stuffed full of cock.”

He keeps thrusting into you until you’re cumming all over his cock. It makes him laugh in delight. “That’s it. Cream all over daddy’s cock. Fuck. Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

You cry out as Seungcheol keeps bouncing you on his cock while he fucks up into your aching pussy. You’re drunk with pleasure, not bothering to stifle your wanton moans as you get split open with every rough thrust. The room reeks with the smell of sex, and it makes your pussy throb in delight. It always ends up this way, and you love that there’s always evidence left behind of how badly your stepdad is addicted to your tight little pussy.

“Cum again for me, sweetheart. Give daddy what he wants.”

Seungcheol smirks when you let out a fucked out whine. “What? Did daddy already fuck you dumb?”

Your pussy tightens and drips with more juices as you nod stupidly. Once again, your stepdad laughs meanly like he couldn’t be more proud that you can’t even respond to him properly.

Seungcheol squeezes your ass before he walks you back to the bed. You clamp down on him with every step he takes. A petulant whine of protest gets stuck in your throat when he pulls out of you with an obscenely wet sound. He tosses you on the bed before joining you.

“Dumb little brat. You can't stand not being stuffed full of your stepdad’s cock, huh?”

You give him a smirk, a little more lucid now. “Just like you can’t stand not having your cock buried in your stepdaughter’s pussy.”

Seungcheol places your legs over his shoulders and forces his cock back into your needy cunt. You cry out in pleasure, happy that your goading worked.

“You’re right. That’s why I’m gonna have to stay buried in your hot little cunt all week. Keep my little brat nice and full.”

You moan and grind your hips to meet his ravenous thrusts. “Fuck yes. Please, daddy. That’s all I want.”

Something about you begging so prettily and nicely always gets Seungcheol off. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna creampie this sweet little hole the entire time we’re here. That’s what a good stepdad does, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry, feeling another orgasm creeping up on you. “You’ll be a good stepdad and stuff my needy pussy, right, Cheolie?”

Something inside him switches when you use that endearing nickname. You’ve never used it during sex, but he doesn’t hate it. He absolutely loves it because it feels so much more intimate.

“Yes, baby,” his deep voice makes your toes curl. “I’m gonna give you a nice hot load. As many times as you want.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his filthy promise. His cock throbs and twitches inside you as he moves one of his hands to rub and pinch at your puffy clit.

“Cum for me, princess. Need your tight little pussy to milk me again,” Seungcheol coos softly.

You pant wantonly as your stepdad hammers his cock harder into your hot cunt. His fingers keep working your sensitive clit as he spears his thick cock deep into you. It’s all too much, and before you realize it, another orgasm crahses into your body.

“DADDY!” Your scream is loud as you arch your back, pussy gushing and clenching around Seungcheol’s huge cock.

“Fucking shit. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for daddy.” Seungcheol groans as he fucks into your squirting cunt while your walls milk him for all he’s worth.

A feral noise leaves him as he buries his cock to the hilt, girthy length pulsing inside you as thick ropes of cum shoot into your pussy. Seungcheol fucks his spunk deeper inside you, leaning down to place gentle kisses all over your face.

“Taking it so well,” he murmurs adoringly, cock throbbing with pleasure. “Such a good girl for me.”

Seungcheol captures your lips in a heated kiss as his cock releases the last bit of cum. He pulls away and gives you one last affectionate peck before he sits up. His cocks slowly slips out of you, and Seungcheol’s eyes get impossibly darker when he sees his cum slowly tricking from your pussy. You love the possessive look on his face so you clench your pussy to push out more of his hot cum.

“This week’s going to be perfect.” He sighs contentedly.

You hum in agreement, making grabby hands at him. Seungcheol smiles sweetly and goes to cuddle you how you want. You sigh into his chest, letting the exhaustion take over.

“Love you, Cheolie. So much.”

Seungcheol presses a sweet kiss to your hair, basking in the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.”

“So, how’s your vacation going?”

Seungcheol hums against your scalp, holding back a groan when you unconsciously clench down on him. You two decided to spend the day by the pool, which led to you wanting to cockwarm him. So now, he’s laying on one of the pool chairs with you on top of him. Your bikini bottoms are pulled to the side as his big cock pulses inside of you.

The fact that he can lull you to sleep while his dick is inside you is so endearing to him. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, and once he hangs up his call he’ll fuck you awake, just how you like.

“Amazing,” Seungcheol doesn’t bother to hide the bliss in his voice. “Thanks again for calling my wife into work.”

Jeonghan laughs deviously. “I owed you one. You helped me pull off my plan.”

Seungcheol laughs along as he thinks back to the pills he gave his friend for his own nefarious agenda. “It took you longer than I thought.”

“You of all people know that plans like ours take time. If anything went wrong, I would’ve lost everything.” Jeonghan sighs as he thinks back on how long it took to perfectly orchestrate everything. “And you know I would never let myself be a bad guy in my little girl’s eyes.”

It’s true. He’s sure Jeonghan would rather die than have his stepdaughter think less of him.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says after a beat of silence. “What’s the next step? I can only keep your wife busy with work for so long.”

Seungcheol grins when you cuddle deeper into his neck. You’re close to waking up, so he’ll have to cut his call short.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a devious grin as his hand smooths down your back. “By this time next year, my ex wife won’t even be a thought.”

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do 2. ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!daemon’s daughter reader

⋆˚࿔ read part 1 here ˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

summary: blood and cheese, where daemon [the best dad (satire)] also orders for his daughter smuggled back to him, violent aftermath

an: there is no brothel Aemond subplot involved

word count: 5.2k

warnings: blood and cheese, canon violence, violence, daddy issues being mocked, arguments, once again blood and cheese

The war was afoot, degeneracies increasing, treacherous plans and endless councils. Amidst all of that y/n still found time to pay Haelena a visit as frequently as she could. Both of them had found impeccable friends in each other and the twins were always a delight. Striding through the halls of red keep, prodding her head inside with a soft knock on the queen's doors which were wide open as it is, "look!" y/n entered with a wide smile on her face. Twirling around she showed Haelena the dress she wore, it was a dress Haelena had embroidered for her with special spiders and other custom animals. Haelena had remarked on y/n's elegantly plain dresses, the edges could all use embroidery and y/n was more than glad to let Haelena design on her dress. "You made it so much better, the small bugs in blue thread it’s so beautifully assembled-" before she could comment more on the beauty of her queen sister's embroidery she was there to showcase, y/n was under attack of her niece and nephew, "why good morrow to you two!" she giggled as the two tugged at her dress for consecutive raise-me-ups. 

"I am very glad!" Haelena said offering her a smile as she scanned those designs, Haelena was warmly elated that y/n chose to wore the dress she had embroidered and the fact that she let her do it in the first place.

"You must teach me your ways" y/n commented whilst actively engaging with jaehaerys and jaehaera, she couldn't carry both the babies at the same time but she was trying to entertain them regardless, the two were latched to their auntie's knees like monkeys.

"I could always make you more, save you the time!" Haelena offered instead, she tried to distract whichever one of the children with a toy but both were way too smitten with their ever so busy aunt, now that she had the council she spent supposedly lesser time with the twins.

"That too would be so convenient!" Y/n said, Jaehaera was raised on her back, making mischief with her aunt as she tried to close her eyes with her tiny hands from behind. Both the twins laughing as she did so, regardless y/n laughed along trying to maintain her balance the best.

"That is enough..." Haelena trailed off in amusement as she helped Jaehaera off of y/n's back. The babe did not let go before whining about it, jaehaerys still tugging at his aunt's dress to get her to bend down so he could talk.

"It's alright" let out a small chuckle y/n's attention was caught down to the little heir pulling at her dress, for her to bend to his level. "Yes little prince?" She asked, attentive to her nephew's whims and demands.

"You said you were going to read to me" Jaeherys reminded her in a rather witty sense, having a sense of one upping her since she forgot about it.

"Oh did I now?" She paused for a second trying to remember when exactly was the reading session arranged for.

"Yes! The-the one with the fox and the-crows...where you do the voice!" The little prince was soon to remind her of which exact story they had left off from. He liked it better when his auntie read it to him than the wet nurses or his mum because she often did those giddy voices and the stories she read in were more entertaining than the ones with septa.

"Gods I must have forgotten" she said in a somewhat melodramatic tone to make the child think she took their reading session as a serious matter, "I have got some work on my hands at the moment but I assure you I will come continue the story-"

"When!" Jaeherys whined with a sort of tired expression given the delay in his story.

"Tonight." She answered genuinely, "Right after dinner!"

"Do you promise?" He asked wanting to take her aunty's word for proper surety.

"I promise." She said holding his tiny hands in hers giving them a gentle squeeze to assure him of her promise. Kissing both her niece and nephew on the forehead as she stood up, in attempt to take her peace Haelena stopped her.

"Are you not afraid?" Asked her sister in law with a tense look on her face, like those times when she would be out of it. As if she spoke another language and saw other things. "When the stones call you back?"

"What...what stones?" She asked, at first y/n thought Haelena was referring to some palace. Could this be in correlation to something with the council, is what y/n presumed.

"The stones. They will call you back!" Haelena gripped her elbows tighter, to emphasise the gravity of the situation she felt. "They'll take you away!"

"Nobody is taking anyone away..." y/n trailed off, shaking her head slightly as she ran her hand down Haelena's in a soothing way. "We are all safe here and there is nothing to be scared of. I promise you. I am not going anywhere." She assured her. Y/n assumed that it would worry Haelena to lose the best friend she had in herself if she were to go back because of the war waging. In her father's name perhaps, her worry was not unsolicited but y/n was sure her father's was a house not hers that is even before her marriage with Aemond.

Haelena could never seem to get her point across for some reason, she couldn't digest her wearies in a coherent way herself so she nodded with a small smile. The restlessness still consistent within her as y/n took her leave. Ever since the intimate moment with Aemond, their relationship had grown rather awkward. Aemond was closed off as always, unable to convey his infatuation. Awkward in this area, the young lovers found it difficult to navigate through a conversation. Bristling fingers through glasses, stealing glances, speaking out their love in small gestures.

That did not account for the fact that the council matters too seeped into the newlywed's marital bliss phase. Aemond too had a seat now, on the king's word. He would attend those meetings and at times the two would have drastically counter opinions. His lady wife, she would sit in the same line of seats after the hand and his mother. Speaking their minds against him, just as they had intended for her. A council within the council. "All you do is account for grand sire and mother, no such thoughts of your own. A mere puppet." Aemond scoffed as they were currently in a conversation in their chambers reflecting to that day's council meeting.

The day was at its end and as was y/n, end of her wits. His bickering was just what she needed, "And you?" she said in a tone more accusatory than his, rightfully so "all you add to the discussions is the warpath Ser Criston weaves."

"I stand for it, you just chew out what the council within the council spews" he scoffed, coming out harsher than intended but now this had become usual."I know you informed the hand of my meetings with Cole."

"Didn't do it as a snitch, had you asked me I would have told you I informed the hand." Y/n said trying to counter his condescending remarks. She wasn't a 'puppet' how he implied "Just because I do not agree with you doesn't make me a puppet to those with better judgment than yours."

"Better judgment than mine?" He let out a low huff finding it absurd that she believed Otto and his mother had a better judgment over the war than his, "you think writing to other castles, pleading, awaiting their help whilst we have three large dragons is a better judgement?"

"And what? What do you plan to do with the dragons? Burn all those against us?" She asked him growing agitated having this conversation again, "You are in favour of a lot of unnecessary bloodshed-"

"It is necessary. To make an example, to lay out a path." Aemond interrupted her, taking in a small breath "Raise your banners or watch them burn. This is what the blacks are already set to implement whilst we sit hand on hand sending out messengers!"

"You want to create a sense of fright! That is all you will accomplish with burning houses." She said in an assertive tone as she crossed her arms. This is what Ser Criston had told him too, the words struck him a small remembrance.

"Are you eavesdropping my meetings with Cole?" He questioned, as the reference resembled similar words to Cole's. Cole didn't exactly have the same notion as his wife but the words were vaguely same.

"You sit right across this room" she gestured to the adjoining room after their bedchamber. The small opening after their room led to the table against the wall where Cole and Aemond had their meetings, "The meetings you have after you assume I'm asleep, as it is too loud enough for me to not eavesdrop or be able to sleep."

"Of course" he couldn't help but roll his eyes, "You must have told the hand about it word for word yes? Like a parrot"

"Don't think of yourself too highly, your conversations are rather predictable even to those who aren't present" she replied. He wasn't wrong that she informed the hand about it but she took accountability for that.

"At least my conversations hold a spine" in two strides he reached the table she was leaning on to pour himself a glass of wine, "Unlike yours, but well that is what was intended for you" he shrugged.

For a moment, y/n sighed shutting her eyes "What are you implying?" She asked trying to maintain a calm composure because she was aware he would have words that would make antagonise her.

"You know, why you are in the council in the first place" he said in casual harshness. "Otto needed someone to voice his opinions like the righteous little lady that you are."

"I am on the council because of the seat I have inherited through my father." Y/n referred to the original conversation for her being on the council, he wasn't even part of that decision yet acted like he knew better than anyone. Smugly sipping his wine as he set his cup aside, the inherent smirk on his face irritated her to no end.

"You are claiming the father's seat who didn't even want to claim you?" He scoffed, Aemond could attest for the fact that he did not hate her in full surety. Rather fond of her too, but he was fond of his lady wife. The soft lover he did not knew he needed, big eyes that held love for everything they were laid upon. Tenderness and warmth seeping out the cracks of her which would mend the hollow cracks in him but it was the council member in her, otto's silent weapon which he could not stand.

In the process of wanting to get back at righteous council member he couldn't stand he truly hurt the daughter that begged for her world to sun, tears brimmed her eyes and she could not help it. She struck him across the face, the nerve of him. Shattered the home she thought she might finally have. He simply flinched at her action, his eyes widened a bit not at her gesture but at her tears. Registering her tears before the slap she landed her, at loss of words. "Leave." She spoke with a shuddered breath, couldn't even meet his eyes. Feeling stripped of the hope and pride she spent days building. Y/n had never raised a hand to anyone, that didn’t exactly harm Aemond in any way still the gesture in itself made her feel ugly after a moment’s silence marinated the interaction.

Without saying a word Aemond did leave, he didn't want to retaliate with her in any way. Because in that very moment both of them took a misstep and he did not want that moment to last longer. In a few strides he was out of their chambers. Y/n gripped the table to steady herself as the tears streamed down her face, a restlessness made home within her chest as she took heavy breaths.

The weight of all her despair was so heavy, at times she would just shut them in case and shove them deep inside her heart and inside her mind so she wouldn't have to face them in retrospect. It all just felt so inescapable, how she begged to be her father's daughter and how she was rejected the whole time. Now, farther away from him, bit by bit being at peace with the people she now surrounded herself with. Even in such state of distress she didn't feel alone any longer, she even felt loved. As far stretched as it sounded she even felt at ease with Aemond and he shattered all of it with just one sentence.

She lost the track of time since the moments of Aemond walking out as she just stood there falling apart, but when she felt some footsteps behind her she wiped her tears trying to compose herself. If there was anything she learned from her father it was that, nobody ever cared how much you fall apart so don't give them a reason to hold against you. Daemon always hated weeping children. Quickly she wiped her tears, she wouldn't want Aemond to think of her weak in these times. With a deep sigh she turned to face the footsteps she assumed was Aemond.

Apparently it wasn't. "Yes?" She asked with furrowed brows to the stranger who just walked into the room, not even a knock or an announcement like the guards or servants. The man wasn't even dressed like a guard or a servant. She stood alarmed taking a step further into the table as the man forwarded towards here without a word. "Guard-" she tried to yell as loud as she could but the man grabbed her head in a swift motion and shoved her into the table's edge. As if to knock her unconscious.

"Not another word or I kill you." Blood said with his hands around her neck, about to choke her as she struggled against him. Trying to grasp against his hands on her, trying to suffocate her she kicked her legs. Tried to scream regardless of his warning. With an extreme distaste for her, obviously, in blood's eyes the princess wasn't even worth so much and too much trouble to smuggle out. "Your daddy wants you back."

-

By the time the guards did find the princess, in the hallways, she was already half unconscious. Immediately rescued into the safest place in the keep, the council. Retrieved but not at all unharmed. The council was already set into course for the subject of the young prince when Larys walked in with y/n. He had previously informed her of what had happened with her nephew, his passing it hadn't really struck her yet given she could barely process all that had happened.

Queen alicent gasped as she stood up quickly running to y/n's side, all the bruises on her face, open cuts and bleeding out the torn sleeves in her dress. "Gods..." she exclaimed in horror as she helped her onto her seat. "What happened to her?" She asked Lord Larys.

"The guards found the intruder, trying to smuggle the princess out of the keep. A gold cloak known for his brutal nature, found with her, having inflicted his brutality upon her and...the prince's head, in a sack." He briefed the council as they all listened to him, everyone else but the king at loss of words. As Lord Larys left alicent was still tending to y/n, cooing at her, she seemed to be in a half conscious state.

"I am alright" she muttered to her mother in law as Alicent nodded but held her hand in hers to provide her whatever consolation she could. Just the sight of having suffered such assault sent the queen into a huge distress. Weakly holding her hand back as if to steady herself into this nightmare. When Lord Larys told her of Jahaerys's tragedy she did not believe it at all. She was confidently positive there must be some mistake in his information because that would not be possible at all.

If it wasn't for Aegon screeching in the background, y/n couldn't make out if she was actually awake in this very moment. The ringing in her ears still hadn't gone out and she wished that she would perish with that same ringing if it were to happen because living through this seemed so difficult. No way to navigate, circumstance so heavy she felt paralysed to meet anyone's face. Aegon was screeching as he wept for his son, blind with rage to kill the man found guilty for the crime. The member advised otherwise saying the king has a lot of enemies and they don't know for sure whose hand it could be.

"I suppose you are right..." Aegon trailed off slowly pacing down the table back to his seat, with an accusatory demeanour towards everyone else "it could be anyone of you, in this room."

A small silence fell, strengthening the tension and grief in the room as y/n just stared at the empty seat beside her. That very morning, just the day prior, where her nephew sat. Then Aemond after him, empty now. "It was Daemon." She declared of what she knew for sure, first time in her life she referred to Daemon with his first name instead of her father. After everything that he did, every misery she endured at the hands of her father, what happened now made her want to be distanced and foreign from him as much as she could. "His doing." She breathed and looked at the council, the drained colour on everyone's face she just registered-it was blinding her. "The man—the gold cloak" she continue, "trying to get a hold of me, h-he—he said 'your daddy wants you back.'" Repeating the words sent a chill down her spine as if she was in that very moment again, she still felt those hands on her, suffocating and heavy. A disgusting play in the mix. “That man came here, on Daemon’s order.”

The rest were comprehending that still, how a man could be so crude not only killing a child but having his own assaulted and kidnapped back home like this? " In one sense, as we determine what happened and...if we in the keep are still in peril. In another sense of course...it doesn't matter." Otto said and looked at Y/n. The princess surely did not seem to understand the hand's implication.

However Lord Tyland did so, "You mean to blame Rhaenyra." He said in a beat. "Tell the realm she had done this." Tyland spoke out Otto's implication.

"I'll have the realm told nothing! We were assaulted within our own walls, within our own beds!" Aegon spoke up almost immediately "Y/n, my brother's wife! The fucking princess almost beaten unconscious—being smuggled out?" He emphasised on the word brother, enraged even for his sister in law and the lack of his brother's presence when it must have mattered the most. "I will not be seen as weak!"

"You are already seen as weak aegon." Otto replied once again sending the king into a manic breakdown as he threw around more cups and vases. Otto theorised about how important it was to name Rhaenyra as a cruel person. Killer of infants, despite of whose direct orders those were. The narrative would be what they made.

"You would change, the blood that is on daemon's hand just to spite Rhaenyra." Y/n questioned, red eyes and characteristically on the verge of tears since she walked in here. Alicent found it so hard to look at her face, the cuts and bruises, poor thing. The heavy torment inside her head must be unimaginable, Alicent thought whilst holding y/n's hand a bit tighter. It felt like one of those moments when she was just a child, so many years ago. She would recall, the girl child was such a loner, always speaking in short words that is if spoken to. The shy little girl, who would just sit in a corner and colour or read. So much like her Aemond yet so different. When they would be in public settings, too many people, she would meekly hold Alicent's hand. Amongst all those unfamiliar faces. Little y/n just deemed Alicent familiar, comfortable. What was so wholesome years ago held such horror now. Alicent holding the lady's hand to provide her comfort her words won't be able to, the protection she could not. "Why won't you paint that man for the monster that he is?!" Y/n spoke as her voice broke, it felt unfair. Daemon not being held accountable yet again.

"Because, Daemon isn't the pretender to the throne. He would be the king consort. Banners are being declared for Rhaenyra, not in his name." Otto explained, to his preference narrative was just a useful toy. One name here or there did not make a difference.

"That is unfair." She said shaking her head, tears brimmed her eyes, taking in short breaths. In all these council meetings she did not speak up against Otto considering him respectable and more learned yet today, "how can you keep on accounting for him...again and again?!" Y/n asked but she was begging in agony. "Y-You were here. Always present. And you never did anything—all his heinous crimes! You always had the opportunity to hold him responsible and you did nothing!" She exclaimed, not being able to help herself as she thought back to a conversation at this very table. A conversation she must not have been there for, but the hand would have.

"It is perhaps your shock and grief speaking for you." Otto replied, not moved by the young lady's accusations at all. "I for one, do not understand your place of reference"

"When he murdered my mother!" Y/n said, growing more and more restless with her speech. Otto must be right, it was all the piled up grief inside of her speaking for her in this very moment but she could not let the monster that was her father be off the hook again, "You could've held a proper council, had him pay for what he did and we wouldn't be seeing this day today! We have that chance now and yet again you would rather Rhaenyra take the blame for his barbarism!"

Otto felt silent for a moment, the girl's rage was justified to the extent of him having no answer for her but he knew to trust his wit more, "I cannot undo...my regrets. I assure you I hold a lot of remorse in having a part in letting daemon go from daemon to the rogue prince and now this...monster. But if we don't do this, he would become king consort. The word consort is a feeble adjective." What he said was supposed to make sense to y/n but she could not see past the rage and need for vengeance she held against her father. Looking away, she wiped her tears. "A funeral progress. Let them see the child. Let them look upon the works of this pretender to the throne." Otto proposed once y/n was assuming-ly settled.

"Father" Alicent said with weary and concerned eyes, such tragedy being shouted out as a public funeral procession sounded so vain.

"My king..." Otto waited for Aegon's presumedly understood voice.

"No..." Aegon answered firmly "I will not have my little son's body dragged through the street like a dead dog." As he said that y/n felt nearly faint. To this very moment she did not accept that the child had passed.

"Not dragged, honoured." Otto corrected. "Escorted to the dragon pits to be burned as a Targaryen prince!" Otto went on and on about how he loved his grandson, his heart was in the right place with the grief yet the path he set was in accordance with the warpath. Just plots and schemes. Falling silent, paralysed y/n looked down to her lap. She refused to even register this conversation because it meant registering the fact that a darling child, Jahaerys...was gone.

Aegon couldn't stomach this proposal which came as an already arranged firm announcement either, looking around the room nobody said a word against the hand's plan. "You would say nothing?!" He demanded of y/n, why won't somebody help this mad notion. "Your dear nephew, have you nothing to add?" He was almost begging, hoping she would get the hand to change his mind for this funeral procession. She didn't, y/n just looked up at Aegon and then Alicent, tears in her eyes which just didn't seem to stop flowing. "Mother." Aegon called out when y/n couldn't speak up.

Leaving y/n's side Alicent walk's up to aegon, "the hand sets a difficult path, my darling. But it might be the right one." She told her inconsolable soul.

"Let the silent sisters ready the prince for his final journey." Otto said without waiting a moment for the king or anyone to come forth with opposition "And riding behind him, his mother the queen, the princess and the queen dowager."

"No, I do not wish to be spectacle." Alicent opposed instantly, the weariness and fright in y/n's eyes speaking the same "Especially y/n, not in this state. She can barely talk-stand, she has been terrorised. You can't simply—"

"The realm must see the sorrow of the crown. A sorrow best expressed through its gentle souls." Otto said followed by alicent sighing, then he looked at the side to y/n, "We need to display our heavily victimised as well" he said, the bleeding wounds on her face seemed like little trophies of sympathy to Otto. "I think you'll all agree the king himself must be spared."

-

A deafening silence lingered within Aemond, he had been out, sharpening out his swords, practising. Fucking practising on jute bags when he should've been there. Y/n was in Alicent's chambers because she could not walk into her own, couldn't even take in the sight of it. The thrashed furniture, from her struggling against the intruding gold cloak. The...the sack. In which he had stored the boy's head. Where the man had placed it in her chamber, at the entrance, it had created a circular stain of blood. Jahaerys's blood. She could not even think about the room within those four walls without picturing the insidious crime. She sat on the floor against the bed, windows open and soft white light of the day seeping in yet to y/n it still felt like a night of hailstorm. She didn't even look up to the footsteps of the stride coming inside the room, Aemond. He walked to her, kneeling down to the floor to her level.

Aemond was drenched with so much guilt in his heart, he felt pathetic to even breathe the same air as his lady wife. She had her face turned away from him, he could just see the small cuts on her face, the torn dress, still seeping out dried blood, her weary stature. It was all mortifying in the first place. He was so livid, with himself, with the intruder. Even with Larys, who informed him about the happenings at the last. By the time he rushed back inside the council was already done with. He had nothing he could say to y/n, no way of consoling her either.

It's not as if she would want to be consoled by him too, the emotional support he would want to offer her walked out with him when he walked out after their fight the previous night. With the disturbing things that had happened with her, she had almost forgotten the words he said. She couldn't even remember why she was crying before it all, that sick with grief. Aemond gently held her chin, hesitantly afraid she would turn him away. She had every right to do so. She didn't move him away, had no energy to do so. His heart sank as he saw the blood streaked stitches, poorly done and most of her wounds left untreated. "Why are these open?" He asked her softly, referring to her wounds, "Where are the maesters?"

"The hand, has asked for these to be left raw as they were planted." Y/n briefed him, her voice was so wavering, all that crying. "He means for them to be displayed for the funeral procession...so the realm can see" y/n scoffed softly as she repeated otto's exact words.

"You don't have to go." Aemond told her in a firm way, sure that he could get the hand to change his mind whether he liked it or not because y/n's comfort was his priority.

"No..." she trailed off, in agreement refraining to look at him her voice held no emotion. "But I do. I have to." She continued "Wouldn't want Haelena to be alone"

"Mother would be with her." Aemond added taking her hands in his softly, finally getting her to react to his presence as she looked down upon his gesture. Apparently to take her hands out of his grasp.

"But then I would be alone here..." She trailed off, a hint of frustration and fright in her tone. "I don't want to be alone."

"I would be with you, y/n." Aemond cooed softly fixing the loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear as he leant forward. “You won’t be alone.”

"I find myself unable to put faith in you, Aemond." She breathed looking down, she felt like a cornered animal, just so scared and full of distrust. "...in your assurance. I'd rather not."

Aemond had nothing he could say to that. She did not trust the integrity of his principles and rightfully so. He knew he had broken that trust of security within her. "My heart, I apologise for the distress I have caused you. I did not mean any of it" he told her but the heaviness in his heart told him his words would change nothing. She couldn't talk either, bursting into tears and her stitches seemed to hurt because her face moved but she was so much numbed to the physical pain in comparison to how she felt inside. Aemond could just offer her his embrace in this time and that is what he did. Enlacing her into her arms, rubbing her back in soothing circles her let her cry into his chest. "They will pay for this." He muttered softly as he continued to hold her. Even with the pain he made her feel, the distrust and hurt she felt just in seeing Aemond could not let her turn away the familiarity of his comfort. His was the only comfort she had ever known.

-

Once again clarifying that the brothel subplot is absolutely NON EXISTENT in this fic Aemond Targaryen is a lot of things but not a cheater <333

Pls let know what you think about this + added to the tg list🫧

-

🏷️ @love-is-a-dagger @daddzawa @1109002 @void21 @annedub @teapartydreams @batmans-love @ih8books @oopsdownloadedrumblragain-blog @aemondwhoresworld @unsweetenedpeatea @immyowndefender @aleemendoza2425-blog @vane282-blog @atargaryenlover @targaryenswhxre @sabii5 @vibescanner @darylandbethfanforever9

[likelysobbing]

𖥻 FOR THE STREETS. paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: baby, what’s meant for the streets will never be yours.

notes: based off hev abi’s song ‘para sa streets’ — made mainly because i wanted more paige angst on my feed . so like, give me my angst. might write a part two if this gets enough attention . the synopsis and overall theme is like a genuine LYRIC from the song btw. lastly. this is fiction guys this is completely NOT paige paige would never do this and i will not knock on wood three times when i say that because WE ALL KNOW PAIGE WOULD NEVER DO THIS. chill on me for a moment you guys …. (PART 2 HERE: STUNNED)

cw: once again, based off hev abi’s song ‘para sa streets’ so you KNOW it’s notorious player!paige, angst lowkey no comfort besides the fact that reader now hates paige’s guts, INFIDELITY + MENTIONS OF ORAL: paige gets head from a different girl, but i don’t write it explicitly because god forbid. lovers to exes. angsty, angsty, angsty. reader’s kinda a wuss. ignore the existence of curfews for this fic btw, thankies!

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even, but on your tongue?

it burns.

everytime you have to say it, you have to stop yourself from clawing your tongue off, skinning it clean of the layer that said her name—because you hate it. hate her. hate her stupid smile that’s all teeth, her eyes that she knows are pretty, all her muscles that probably wouldn’t help much in the event she got herself pulled into a scream-esque horror movie. you hate her fucking fashion sense … and how she looks better with all her clothes off.

you hate her.

hate how she lies through those teeth, through that smile, so easily—hate how she knew her eyes were nice and always gave you puppy eyes so you’d forgive her every apology, hated all her muscles and how when they held you, you felt protected—and when they held you down, you felt hot and bothered. you hate her fucking fashion sense with every goddamn bone in your body because deep down you know she looks good in every damn thing— but she looks the best with her clothes off. you hate her. you hate paige bueckers with every bone in your body.

but there was a time in which you didn’t. there was a time in which you looked at paige with love instead of the hatred you look at her with now, and a time in which you stopped her in halls instead of hoping you wouldn’t see her in them in the first place. there was a time you loved her smile, and her eyes, and drooled over her muscles—and that time? was the time of your fucking life.

and she chose to end it through a fucking phone call.

she always knocked on your door three times.

i love you— she said it through those knocks. you told her she didn’t need to, she was your girlfriend, she had special privileges (and a dorm key), but she insisted, because she wanted to say i love you before you even saw her. you always found it cute.

she was your girlfriend, then. she gave you toothy smiles whenever you went to her games, kisses throughout the campus because she believed a ‘hello’ was never enough, she even held your hand when she knew you were getting overwhelmed. she was, like, literally perfect. there was no doubt in your mind that she was it for you—she was the one. no worried looks from your friends whenever paige placed a hand on your hip, no whispers among students you didn’t know surfacing as you held her hand through a crowd could deter you. not even whispers of how paige had notoriously wandering eyes, or how she had a history of playing games with girls who didn’t know they were pawns. you were warned that paige wasn’t meant to settle down, that she was meant ‘for the streets’, and would never truly be yours— as they so bluntly, and also rudely, told you. you did nothing but scoff. those warnings did nothing. paige was it.

paige bueckers was the one.

you had no doubt about it. you were hers. you didn’t think twice about the wedding in spring you imagined, expecting it to be your problem in the future you had together, when in reality? paige didn’t even want you in hers.

it started with her smile.

her smile was all teeth back then, when you were still in that early honeymoon phase and you felt as if nothing in the world could tear you apart. she was always happy to see you— you’d know from the way her smile was always so big. so wide.

and suddenly, somehow, some way— on some random thursday, it faltered. you didn’t notice at first. she didn’t smile as wide anymore. when she saw you at her games, she nodded her head and went back to her bench.

you just thought she was tired. that was okay, you thought.

and then her eyes started wandering.

like the crowds you once easily ignored whispered she was notorious for, her eyes started wandering. she looked at a cheerleader, her eyes trailing down the girl’s slim waist—and then the next week, she was looking at a point guard from another team; she just kept… looking.

by the next month she was looking at every one else besides you.

there were times when you locked eyes, and paige always did love those moments—you’d have a staring contest, and those butterflies in your stomach made simply because of paige looking at you so intently it made you feel like the only person in the room? well, you always fuckin’ lost. paige loved looking at you.

it’s why you noticed when she stopped.

suddenly, her arms didn’t wrap around you anymore.

there was no longer the familiar warmth she brought with her, no sign of the tight, constrictive hold that was somehow comforting. when paige hugged you, she did it with one hand. she pulled away first.

you always joked about paige’s arms being a cage.

unfortunately for you, that cage was all you knew. and when it began to open, you didn’t want to go. so you didn’t. you stayed with her. you stayed with her, and she got worse.

by then, she had stopped knocking three times.

by then, she had stopped coming. coming through for you, and coming to your dorm, and coming to you in general.

you don’t know why it only took you that one fantastic (sarcasm detected!) night to really leave.

CONNECTICUT — 2:54 AM, BELDEN HALL (UCONN ALUMNI QUAD DORM)

11 missed calls, exactly 29 texts and counting, and thirty minutes pacing around your dorm, as small of a space as it was—paige promised to be back by 10:30 . that was exactly four hours and and 24 minutes ago. safe to say, you were fucking horrified. she promised to be back by 10:30; you were going to have a movie night together. your popcorn is untouched now, cold and stale.

and she is still not back.

so you call again.

there is exactly three rings before she finally answers. you gasp, a sigh of relief escaping you. her name is so sweet on your tongue.

“paige!—“

there is a click of her tongue on the other line and the giggle of another girl that makes your ears ring. “what?” she groans, “what is it?”

“paige?” you repeat her name again, softer this time, a tingle on your tongue.

“bro— hhh—fuck, right there, right there—what is it?”

a blade pierces your heart. “paige, what are you doing?”

there is a shuffle on the other line. she stays silent for a moment, the only sound from her is the soft sighs she let out and slurping you choose not to hear. you might puke.

you swallow down bile that feels like blood, and ask again.

“paige, what are you doing?”

“getting great head.”

you didn’t expect her to be so upfront, hoping that maybe even in all her drunken stupor she’d end up softening the truth. she didn’t. you froze.

your mind was moving a mile a minute, and so in desperation to just speak—you spoke with your heart. and all your heart had?

“why?”

it was broken enough for a mocking scoff to be heard on the other line, “why?” she repeated.

every word she said there after pierced a new hole through your already bleeding heart.

“i don’t give a damn ‘bout you, baby. what are you on?” she groaned, and you could hear her eyes roll from here— “i was just feeling ‘lone lately, you know how it is…”

by then, you knew she meant it. you stifled a sob. by then, you knew she meant it—but you still said, you still said— “you’re just… you’re just drunk—“

“you get drunk too, don’t be a fucking drama queen. i know you. from head to toe, actually.” it’s mocking, and you bite your lip— “you know how it feels to get— ohhh fuck, fuck that feels good, that feels good,”

you could barely believe her own audacity. she was so shameless in her disloyalty— with every moan, rage reverberated through your body. with every giggle you heard from that girl on the other end, your fist clenched harder.

and yet, trumping every other emotion, was sorrow.

“we’re done, paige.” you said, through a hoarse, shaky voice. “we’re done.”

“are we?”

“yes, we are.”

“but you stayed this long, baby. if i get bored again, i might need you. you’re so grumpy all the time, you— fuck, fuck— you know? when you’re with others, you’re grumpy, but with me, you’re so sweet. when you’re with me, your ass is flirty— all that pain you told me about disappears, right? that’s funny. you’re a pain in the ass when i’m tryna get a quick fuck in. gotta stay loyal to you… but nahh… i’m bored, actually. real bored. like super, super bored. but it like really depends—“

why are you letting her speak this long? there are tears in your eyes, and you fear your skin might split if you keep clenching your knuckles this hard. why are you letting her speak this long?

you don’t want to stop hearing her voice.

you don’t want to, even if she made you wait for four hours and 24 minutes, even after all she’s put you through—even after every second passing right now, in which you find paige has probably been continously cheating on you.

“paige,” you try again. you interrupt her. this time, her name on your tongue burns. it bleeds like a cut, aching. “paige, just… stop.” you defend yourself pathetically, you acknowledge it, you cannot stop it—but maybe, you can stop her. “just stop.”

“…okay?“

okay, is all you get. that’s all you get.

you open your mouth to speak, but you’re cut off by paige’s pornographic moan that claws at your brain the moment you hear it—and then a click is heard.

paige ended the call.

paige ended it all.

you would’ve collapsed if you weren’t already slumped against your bed in tears. you fall asleep with your head resting against the edge of your mattress and a bucket of popcorn untouched by your desk.

and the next morning, there are no more missed calls. your roommate knows about your breakup before you even tell her; she tells you paige was fucking drunk off her ass last night, and she announced it at the party in a tone so jolly it made people double over and laugh. your roommate heard paige say that she was free, now, and that the moment she said so—a bunch of girls had came near her corner. they were waiting.

your roommate can’t resist saying ‘i told you so’.

this time, you don’t even think to defend the person you thought you’d willingly spend your whole life defending.

instead, you say, “you were right.”

because she was. as unheard of as it seemed back then, she was right.

what’s meant for the streets would never be yours.

@likelysobbing.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Religious Fanatic

She's convinced that God chose you to be her partner. The fact that you disagree is irrelevant.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who rises through the ecclesiastical ranks like God truly is on her side. Hers is the holy cause, the righteous one. If heretics have to burn at the stake to cleanse the masses, then so be it. She'll carry the torch.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who gives sermons like hellfire and brimstone are staining her tongue. Who moves people, convinces them to join her congregation through sheer fervour. Whose influence grows everyday.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who fits into so many times and places. She could be a Roman priestess or oracle. She could be a holy knight during the middle ages. She could be an outspoken and powerful vizier in the Ottoman court.

Regardless, your story and hers both play out the same. Time can't change what God and heaven have ordained.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who meets you entirely by accident. She's on a street corner, preaching to a crowd that grows every minute.

And then there's you. At the very back, eyes narrowed.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who meets your gaze - you alone, out of the surging dozens. She directs it all at you. The love religion can bring, the fulfillment. The way your life will never lack meaning. The way you'll never go hungry again, if you have faith to sustain you. She pours her heart out.

And you just walk away.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who isn't sure how to react. She's been hated, she's been scorned. But such terrible apathy? You don't want to be saved, you don't want anything at all.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who tries to let it go. You can't save everyone. Not all hearts are open to the truth. But she doesn't quite manage it. She kneels before her God and thinks of you. The sun slanting across your cheeks, the bruised hollows under your eyes. You're tired. You're beaten down and chewed up.

You need succor. You need rest.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who can give it to you. Who wants to give it to you.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who finds you again by chance. In the worst part of the city, handing out bread to the poor and needy. It puzzles her. You have no love for God or prayer, no belief in heaven or divine punishment. So why do you still go out of your way to serve the destitute?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who strikes up a conversation with you. There are a dozen others who want her attention - advice, blessings, all of her charity. But once again, she only has eyes for you.

You're reserved but polite. Not denying her attempts to convert you, but not encouraging them either. You're not taken in by her charisma. It should be frustrating, but she finds it intriguing instead. You're an anomaly. A test.

She's destined to save you, she knows it.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who asks a few of her closest followers to keep an eye on you.

"I feel heaven working strangely."

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who listens carefully to every report they bring back. Who your family is, who you socialise with, how you spend your days.

At first, she's just trying to puzzle you out. Why do you feel so special? What is her role in your life?

But the more she learns, the more sure she feels. You're her perfect counterpoint. Logical and balanced where she's passionate. Calm where she's excitable. Observant where she's not.

If heaven guides her, then surely you're heaven sent?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who can't help but feel frustrated at not being able to get closer to you. Any attempts to talk about God and heaven are met with a polite dismissal. Any attempts to spend time with you are interrupted by her followers or her duties. For now, she tries to be content with what little she has.

She'll love you from a distance, for however long it takes.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic whose political power grows as her influence does. Who in time comes to sit on the political council of your city, who comes to have the ruler's ear. What governor would dare turn away someone with such a large following?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who dreams every night of the city on fire, and you, at the centre of it all. A prophecy? A warning?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who slowly starts replacing the elected officials with her own followers. How else can she cleanse the city? The government must itself be pure if the citizens are to be as well.

It makes people uncomfortable. There's whispers of her replacing the ruler soon, of her being the next to sit the throne. But whispers are all people feel comfortable with. She has so many followers now, that it's hard to be sure who can keep a secret and who can't.

The last straw is when the ruler gives her power to form her own squadron of peackeepers. They don't only arrest the criminals, but the sinners too. Money lenders. Prostitutes. Gamblers.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who isn't at all surprised to see you standing before the Senate soon after.

"This isn't lawful or just," you say to the assembled politicians and priests. "This city is home to half a dozen gods, three dozen different beliefs. How can one reign supreme over us all?"

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who's honestly pleased to hear you speak. She was right. Everything about is calm, controlled.

When she stands to offer a rebuttal, the entire room quiets to hear her. Her voice is filled with a half veiled intensity. She's all passion where you were quiet logic.

"Heaven's light falls on us all equally. Heaven's love is for us all to feel. Why then, should we have different laws for different people?"

"We shouldn't. We shouldn't have religious laws at all."

That makes her laugh.

"Oh lamb, how else will the law be just if not guided by God?"

There are politicians and senators who disagree with her. Who fear her. But when the vote is passed, they don't abstain. It would be career suicide to go against her.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who hears the discontentment from the disbelievers and it only encourages her. If the sinners object, then surely she must be doing something right.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic whose ranks swell with converts. Some see the light, but most only do it out of fear. They don't want to be stopped by the peacekeepers. Don't want their businesses scrutinised too closely. A storm is brewing and they want the shelter she offers.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who starts to see a whole lot more of you. Talking to senators, to the people. You don't have her obvious charisma, but there's something about you that makes people listen. A sense of certainty, perhaps.

Whatever it is, you start to gather your own supporters. People who believe the city should be ruled by the laws of Man and not God.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who's there the night the ruler dies. One of the few in the room, one of the first to know. She prays over his body and his eyes are scarcely closed before she's taking charge.

And her very first order? Find and arrest you. You're the face of the resistance. Without you, will the others still be brave enough to stand against her?

When her guards find you, you're in the middle of a meeting with your comrades. It turns into a bloodbath to get you.

At first, she's displeased. When you're brought to her, you're bleeding from a dozen different cuts and your lip is split.

"What is this?" you demand, as though you aren't being held in chains.

"The ruler is dead," she says simply. "I want to ensure a peaceful transition of power."

That makes you laugh. "He's scarcely started to cool and already there's blood on the streets. Tell me, is that the peace you wanted?"

She keeps you locked away. Even when your followers come to demand your release, even when the senators start to whisper that she's going mad.

It could go one of two ways. The people revolt or they don't.

Even you're starting to believe she must be lucky, because after she declares that any rebel activity will be punished by executing you, the last few members of the opposition give up. Surrender and watch their city become a theocracy. They've all seen the way she looks at you. If she's willing to put your head at an executioner's mercy, what will she do to her enemies?

After she has you, she stops dreaming of fire.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who tells herself she keeps you because it ensures obedience. And perhaps that's true on some level.

But the real reason she keeps you locked away? It's because she loves you. Loves bringing you your meals and talking to you. Loves the way your mind works. Loves the determination that never wanes.

You're not the same as you were, you're harder now, resentful. But that's fine. She has all the time in the world to win you over.

Heaven and fate themselves chose you as hers. Who are you to to go against them?

[kesujo]

Compensation

Happy Birthday Taeyeon!! :D

Word count: 9k

The positives of being selected as Taeyeon’s partner for a two-person performance for her upcoming concert tour: you know your talent is being recognized, you get to perform in front of tens of thousands of people, you get to do a two-person performance with Taeyeon, and most of all, you get to have these one-on-one sessions with the beautiful, talented, sexy KPop star.

You don’t know why she chose to wear the shirt she was wearing, what essentially amounts to a normal white T-Shirt that comes up short on her right side, baring that half of her stomach, but you are thankful for the pleasant feast for your eyes. What makes the window into her abs an even more mouth-watering sight is when, occasionally, her pink sweatpants slide down her slim waist and reveal what look to be upper hem of the black underwear she’s wearing.

The negatives of being selected as Taeyeon’s partner for a two-person performance for her upcoming concert tour: an added amount of pressure to be perfect, potential for backlash and hate comments from obsessive jealous fans, additional nerves from having to perform such risqué moves with such an alluring woman, and worst of all, how terrible you feel for keeping Taeyeon so late because of all the mistakes you are making during this practice session. It’s eating at you so much that not even the sight of the top part of Taeyeon’s black underwear, even more visible than before, can rejuvenate you.

While you’re beating yourself up every time you have to stop and correct your mistakes, even the ones you’ve made already, Taeyeon remains patient. You honestly feel Taeyeon is completely justified in yelling at you; in fact, you are sure that if the choreographer for the dance was able to make it, she would be chewing you out. You can see the exhaustion on Taeyeon’s face, too: at the beginning of the session, she greeted you with a warm smile and a voice full of energy. Now, the rate of her breathing can be seen in the visible rise and fall of her chest, sweat from her forehead glistening off the pale light of the studio, her lips permanently parted to help her catch her breath.

The only credit you’ll give yourself is that this is the first time you’ve done a two-person performance with such a high-profile partner, and one that’s as damn attractive as Kim Taeyeon is. However soft her skin appears in pictures, however well-defined her curves have seemed to have developed in the last decade or so, it all is amplified by a thousand while in her presence, while your hands are tightly clasping her hands, her arms, or occasionally, her exposed waist. Normally, you might’ve thanked the Lord for giving you this chance to be so up-and-personal with an idol you’ve admired for so long, but today, it only serves as a distraction and further frustration towards yourself.

“Five-minute break?”

“I can keep going.”

“Well, I need a break.”

“Oh.” You feel yourself flush a little. “Er, yeah, sure.”

She offers you a small smile before turning around, heading to her bag leaning against the wall of the practice room. You try not to stare too hard at her retreating figure, but the view of her thin waist that curves outward to her rather shapely romp is so captivating that, when she reaches her bag, you’re barely able to snap your eyes back onto yourself.

There is no time to rest. Sure, Taeyeon still looks incredibly good despite being so clearly fatigued—in fact, she’s a different kind of attractive with her slightly disheveled appearance—but seeing it is what keeps you rooted in place. Taeyeon has earned the right to rest; you, on the other hand, have not.

As you begin practicing again, your attention fades away from Taeyeon and towards fighting against the sluggishness your limbs from hours of repetition and intense physical activity. By yourself, you feel better about nailing the steps and movements, but hearing the music in your head as you dance is different than dancing with the music actually playing which is different than dancing with the music and in tandem with Taeyeon.

Pound the movements into your muscles. Do them again and again and again until your limbs shift into place on their own after each step.

“Kaiser, you should take a break too.”

You shake your head. “It’s ok, I’m fine.”

She frowns, the beckoning motion of her hand catching the corners of your peripheral vision. “Come! Let’s watch the choreography video again together.”

Hearing that causes you to stop. “Yeah. Sure.”

You aren’t being lazy. Watching the choreography video again is a productive use of your time; maybe you can glean something from this viewing, or maybe Taeyeon can point out something that will help you.

Math, science, literature, English, all of them are subjects you never really understand. Dancing, however, is different. In school, even with tutoring, your test scores were never any good, but with dancing, everything makes sense. Learning choreographies, even the more intense, complex ones, has always come pretty naturally to you. No challenge you ever faced was something a night’s sleep couldn’t fix. You figured doing a two-person choreography wouldn’t be much of an issue, not that you were ever going to turn down a chance to be performing alongside Taeyeon.

What you hadn’t anticipated is how different two-person choreographies are compared to both group choreographies and solo ones: the important part of group choreographies is to flow with the entire group, and make sure the unit as a whole look as one, while solo choreographies allow for more freedom and freestyling but also greater attention to detail, as any mistake will be easily noticeable as the focal or sole performer. A two-person choreography seems to mix the most challenging parts of both types: it requires the attention to detail of a solo performance while also demanding the conformity of a group performance. Being one of two performers, not only will your mistakes be noticeable, but it will also mess up the flow of your partner; additionally, you needed to pay close attention to your partner, especially since the main attraction is Taeyeon, meaning it’s also on you if she decides to improvise a little bit or happens to make a mistake, meaning you need to know the choreography better than Taeyeon, and also, since she’s the singer and focal point for the audience, you need to make sure that everything you do makes her shine, and also…

“Are you ok? Do you need more water? I brought an extra, if you want it,” Taeyeon turns to the side, reaching into her bag and pulling out another plastic bottle.

You start to shake your head, but having her just about pushing the bottle in your hand gives you no choice but to accept it. “Thank you, Ms. Taeyeon.”

Hearing that, the idol lets out a chuckle. “Still insisting on using honorifics?”

You hang your head. “Sorry, I’m just … it doesn’t feel right to say … to do otherwise.”

“No, it’s ok! Try it. ‘Taeyeon’.”

You can feel her expectant gaze, and with how close she is to you, you can only hope the flush on your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “Um … er, ok, Taeyeon.”

Her face lights up. “Yeah! See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

This is just her being nice. She doesn’t mean anything further by it. You’ve read somewhere that people tend to overestimate how attracted someone is to you the more attractive you perceive the other person to be. You’ve heard stories from your dancer friends that Taeyeon is among the kinder idols in the industry, but experiencing it first hand, could you even be faulted for getting the wrong idea?

After watching the demo through, you’re ready to get back up, but Taeyeon motions for you to stay seated. Confused, thinking she perhaps wants to watch the video again, you sit back down, but instead, she says, “You’re still sweating so much, drink some more water, you hardly touched it.”

“Ah,” you feel like you can’t even drink water normally though, especially when she’s so close and when she’s watching you so intently. And, sure enough, the swig of water you take spills the water all around your mouth, down the sides of your face, and directly onto your shirt. “Mmm—!” you quickly put the water bottle down, using your free hand to wipe your face while you swallow the water, “—ah, sh—…”

Your embarrassment peaks higher when Taeyeon lets out a small giggle. “No need to rush, I’m not going to confiscate the water bottle I gave you.”

“Ah, right, sorry…”

Taeyeon silently lets you clean up and then stands up when you’re done. “Ok. Ready?”

You internally take a deep breath and nod. Get your shit together. There’s no time to be all shy and red-faced like some lovestruck maiden. You have work to do. A lot of work. “Yeah.”

The two more hours of practice you two manage to get in are a bit more productive, but it’s still mostly you making mistakes, you fumbling and missing the beat and incorrect hand placements and footwork. Taeyeon, with her infinite patience, doesn’t complain, remaining understanding up until she decides to call it, citing it being past midnight already.

As you pack up, you can still see how heavily Taeyeon is breathing, and from how sluggish her movements are as she packs up, your guilt starts to consume you even more than it already has.

“Get home quickly and get some good sleep, ok?”

It’s those well wishes, that you don’t even feel you deserve, that push you to say, “Taeyeon, um…” she turns around, a smile on her albeit weary face, “…I’m so sorry for today. I just kept messing up and wasting your time, and now, because of me, you’re going home so late…”

“Oh no! No need to apologize! I made a lot of mistakes too!”

It’s funny that she says that because you honestly can’t recall a single mistake that Taeyeon did. Is it because you were too consumed with your own mistakes to notice Taeyeon’s, or is she just saying that to be nice? In your mind, at least, the answer is pretty clear. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? One of my friends works at a spa with really good reviews, I can ask them to give you a really nice discount, or maybe I can treat you to a meal, or…”

You trail off when you see Taeyeon pursing her lips, clearly pondering something. You let her think for a second, but the second becomes ten, which becomes thirty, which becomes a minute, and while you’re hesitant to interrupt her thought process, the silence is starting to eat at you. “…did you think of something?”

“Hm?” Taeyeon’s attention shifts back to you. “Oh! No, sorry. I was just … you really don’t need to think like that, Kaiser. It was good practice for me too, and a good workout! I’ve been staying at home too much these days.”

“What were you thinking about? I want to help, in any way possible.” Taeyeon seems a bit hesitant, so you push further. “Please. It’ll make me feel better.” Wait… “Sorry, that makes it sound like I’m being selfish, but I really do want to make it up to you.”

“It…” Taeyeon trails off again, but this time, the silence doesn’t last longer than ten seconds. “…if you really insist, then…”

“I do. I insist.”

“…then, maybe, there is something you can help me with?”

“Of course! Anything!”

Taeyeon sets her bag back down, and while you’re questioning what she’s doing, walking back to the center of the room, she indicates for you to follow her.

Well, it’s not like it matters what she wants me to help her with.

So, you also set your bag down and follow her, stopping a few steps short of the idol, who is situated in the middle of the room.

“These days, I’ve been so busy, I’ve hardly had any time to myself.”

“Oh…” You only become more confused. Does she want you to cheer her on? You, who is essentially a stranger to her? “…I’m sorry to hear that. That must be rough.” Does she want you to pay her back by being her friend? Because that’s ‘payment’ you are more than willing to offer.

“It’s ok. It’s maybe a good thing, since I’m usually at home, by myself, whenever I don’t have any work.”

Just when you think you’re starting to understand things, Taeyeon throws you this curveball that lands you squarely back on square one. “Oh. I see.” You’re absolutely stumped. You want to be empathetic, but it doesn’t seem like she is seeking it.  You thought she might’ve been seeking companionship, but that doesn’t seem to be exactly right, either. Or maybe it still is? “Um, well, that’s…” it didn’t sound like that, though. Unless Taeyeon usually pokes fun at herself like this as a kind of coping mechanism for her loneliness? Should you play along? Is that too impolite?

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so obtuse. What I’m trying to say, is that it’s usually hard for me to find time to meet people when I’m busy, and when I’m not, it’s hard to find motivation.”

Oh, so she is asking for companionship. But then … why not someone else? Namely, someone of her gender? “That sounds really lonely.” You don’t want to overstep your boundaries though. If it happens that you’re wrong and you offer to be friends with Taeyeon, whom you have only met sparingly over the last two weeks, the last thing you want to do is for her to be uncomfortable with your advances and start to have second thoughts about this partnership.

“It is…” her eyes slowly drift to you, and for some reason, a chill runs up your spine. Why that is, you’re unsure, “…so, I was hoping that you could help me with that.”

Was this real? Was Kim Taeyeon—the Kim Taeyeon, industry legend, globally famous, withstanding the test of time by routinely being noted as among the most popular female idols even now, asking for your companionship?

Wow … how jealous must her fans be? How jealous must your fellow dancer friends be? You’ve heard many stories, good and bad, from people in your industry about their interesting or unique interaction with various idols, but very rarely do you hear stories about idols seeking companionship from their backup dancers as Taeyeon is. All that hard work, all that—

“It’s been so long since I’ve had my pussy stretched out properly, after all.”

—hard work, years of practicing, years of dedication to your craft, making connections and climbing the lad—

Wait.

“Do you think you can do that for me?”

Wait.

“W—”

Taeyeon is looking at you through the mirror without a hint of irony. You don’t know what to feel; in fact, you don’t even know if you’re feeling anything. Your whole face is on fire, and there’s a painful tightness in your chest that you realize a few seconds into staring dumbly at Taeyeon is your heart beating at an unhealthily, unnaturally fast rate.

“—W-W-Wha—…um, u-uh, what did—what did you—”

“It’s ok, Kaiser.” The stage name you chose all those years ago has, regrettably, stuck, but too many people know you by the name. So, as much as the name invokes memories of your younger years, when you were obsessed with the German culture and aesthetic and thought it would be cool to be referred to as an ‘emperor’, as in an ‘emperor of dance’, you try to not let it bother you so much. All those years it pestered you, until now, when the name rolling of Taeyeon’s tongue sends another shiver up your spine. Why does it sound so fucking sexy when Taeyeon says it? “This isn’t a test. You were asking if you could help me in any way, right?”

Ok, now you truly can’t believe what’s happening.

Although rare, you have, in fact, heard of some dancers befriending idols, or at least getting on friendly terms with them. So, in a way, while you never would’ve ever expected it to happen to you, befriending an idol is something that is actually something that is possible to happen in reality.

This? Whatever this is. This—this, all of this, any, or, even the slightest bit, the slightest hint of this. None of this happens in real life.

“Unless … you don’t want to?”

“N-No!”

It’s because you’re a man of your word. You decided you would help Taeyeon in any way she wanted it, and aren’t one to turn away in the face of this … this unfathomable request. That’s what you want to tell yourself, but your cock straining against your boxers and your pants is telling you something else entirely.

“Great!” Taeyeon beams at you through the mirror, then turns to face you. You can barely bring yourself to meet her gaze though; one second your eyes are locked, and the next, it’s looking at your shoes. Her smile is too luminescent, her beauty too blinding, that you can’t even look her in the eye. You tell yourself this, trying to pretend like you aren’t some dumb, lovestruck maiden who was just serenaded a confession to by her long-time crush. “Then, do you want to start by stripping me?”

“…may I?”

This time, when you lift your gaze to meet Taeyeon’s, she smiles at you with a bewildered kind of smile that makes you feel dumb but is so pretty that you forget that shame real quick. “Yes. Please, by all means.”

She doesn’t flinch in the slightest as you approach, and in fact seems to welcome you by the way she starts lifting her arms as you close in on her.

This is really happening. She really does want me to strip her. She’s not reacting negatively, she’s not pulling away last second…

Every step you take towards her is another bit of confidence you receive, and when you’re situated right in front of her, you swear you can feel something change. Her breath feels ever so slightly heavier, her chest is heaving ever so slightly more, the corners of her lips curl further up—something, something about Taeyeon feels impatient, like a hungry hyena eyeing a lion feasting on its prey, waiting for it to finish so that it can devour the remains of the carcass.

When your fingers curl around the bottom hem of her shirt, your knuckles brush against her abs, but Taeyeon doesn’t flinch. In fact, she begins lifting her chin, in preparation for you to lift the piece of clothing off her head.

Fuck, her skin is so soft.

What is it gonna feel like against mine?

When it’s sticky and glimmering with sweat, how sexy is she gonna look?

Not wanting to keep her waiting, you pull the shirt over her head and let it gently fall to your side. She’s wearing a grey bra underneath, a fact that takes a whole minute to internalize, as your eyes are too busy taking something else in.

“Are my boobs that pretty?”

“Oh.” Busted. The good news is that Taeyeon doesn’t seem to care much. “Sorry.”

Taeyeon laughs. “What for?” She carries the same, bewildered smile on her face, one that is equally amused and intrigued. “Do you want to take this off too, or should—”

“I’ll do it.”

There’s something about the conviction in your voice that takes Taeyeon aback. Being in the industry for so long, having worked with so many people, and having been fairly well-known for as many years as she has, Taeyeon has of course had her fair share of experiences in which the people she’s working with are starstruck by her. While it’s quite cute to see someone so much bigger than her acting so reserved, like a lost little puppy, it’s only the actions that are cute; your body, on the other hand, is anything but. Being in such close proximity to you, being bathed in your body heat and, most of all, feeling your well-defined arms and chest in her hands is the ultimate reason why Taeyeon decided to overlook that small personality quirk. And, when you so deliciously offered yourself to her on a silver platter, Taeyeon really had no choice but to pounce. Would the starstruck, fanboyish behavior remain even when her body is pressed against yours, and your cock is buried deep inside her swelteringly hot cunt? Even if it is, Taeyeon figured she needed you enough that she wouldn’t mind it.

But now, seeing your confidence start to rise, Taeyeon can start to feel her knees becoming weak.

“Hmm…”

What you interpret as a hum of content, from finally being freed of the restrictive undergarment cupping her boobs, is actually an anticipatory hum of arousal. And, as you take a moment to marvel at the sight of Taeyeon’s bare breasts, supple and soft and somehow a shade paler than the rest of her skin, contrasted by the light almond color of her areola with a pair of gradually hardening nipples at the center, Taeyeon’s mind is racing with all sorts of possibilities.

When she proposed this, Taeyeon figured she would have to take the lead and was ultimately fine with that. While Taeyeon doesn’t love taking the lead, she’s so horny that she’s willing to do anything. The realization that, maybe, she can let herself just be dominated by you is dampening her panties with more than just sweat.

“Can I…?”

Taeyeon gives you an encouraging nod, and suddenly, your hands are all over them. As expected, your hands are just barely enough to cover its entire surface area, and as your fingers sink into the soft, plush texture of her tits, Taeyeon lets out a sigh.

“Ooh…”

Every passing moment, the smile and the nod and the pleased hum and now the contented sigh, everything is invigorating and emboldening you more, and as you feel Taeyeon respond positively to the massaging and kneading motions of your hands, you sink deeper into the phenomenon that is Kim Taeyeon.

“…god, it’s so soft…”

“Are you going to play with my boobs all day,” Taeyeon’s voice is notably deeper and huskier, and seeing her eyes clouded with lust sends a shiver down your spine, “or are you going to take off the rest of my clothes, babe?”

Taeyeon is seriously a work of art. It seems so effortless, the sexiness she oozes, and it’s so natural that you wonder how intentional it all is. The way she confidently bared her half-exposed midriff and the straightlaced expression that accompanied the filthy words that left her mouth, the unabashed way she sighs and how openly she indulges in your touch, it was all getting to your head already, but that word?

She says it so casually, too. Like, it’s an everyday occurrence, and, for a brief moment, you indulge in a fantasy in which you’re satisfying the needs of your insatiable girlfriend. It’s a comfortable dream, and the way she just melts at your touch, the wistful look in her eyes, the soft parting of her strawberry lips, her drawn-together eyebrows, you can almost believe that this is the tenth, twentieth time you’ve done this to her. But, in reality, you know that none of that is true.

Fuck, she’s going to be the death of me.

Taeyeon doesn’t even know it, but you’re already completely bound in her charm. Her endless patience, her bottomless kindness, paired together with the brazen nature of her proposal and the shameless way she expresses her enjoyment of your fingers, now circling her areola and lightly pinching her nipples, it’s simply inevitable. You’re trapped, but you don’t know if you even want to escape.

“Sorry, but, it’s just that, your boobs too beautiful, Taeyeon.”

“…and I’m glad you think that, but…” your eyes meet Taeyeon’s, and this time, her smile contains within it a considerably greater amount of lust, “…I was hoping you would be playing with another part of my body by now.”

It feels like Taeyeon must have some kind of mind-control over you, with how easily and freely manipulates your emotions. What’s more, you’re 100% sure Taeyeon doesn’t mean to do it either; all she’s doing is telling you what she’s feeling, what she wants from you, but that’s all it takes for you to fall head-over-heels in line with her demands, like a well-trained police dog. And, what’s more, hearing and seeing her growing lust in response to your hands and your skills and just you grows your confidence that much more.

“Then, let me grant your wish.”

Taeyeon broke out into a smile. “Oh, you’re quoting my own song to me?”

Your own lips curl into a smile. “Busted.” Your fingers curl around her pink sweatpants and black underwear and give them a firm, downward tug, sending them tumbling down her legs. Even before they pool at her feet, your eyes are magnetized onto the small patch of hair covering her privates; you can tell that it’s been perhaps a few days since she last shaved, but you can also tell she takes good care of her hair down there.

Her milky-white legs, her slim waist, her taut stomach, her supple breasts, and the thing that you can’t rip your eyes off is that small patch of pubic hair. Seeing Taeyeon’s tits and feeling it in your hands is more than enough to cause a tightness in your pants, but the thing is, Taeyeon has been no stranger to showing off her rather impressive rack. The number of people who have seen her full, bare boobs are probably not very many, especially those Taeyeon consider potential sexual partners, but form-hugging outfits, photos taken from certain angles, even her nipples are something that one can more or less make out from various pictures floating around on the internet. This, however: the little bit of slightly-unkempt pubic hair covering the intersection of her legs, does not fit into any of those categories. Unlike her tits, which she has given her fans many views of at least partially, this is something far more intimate, far more hidden away and thus, why you find yourself getting so, so incredibly turned on from the sight of.

So you tell yourself. It’s because of that, and definitely not because you’re some pervert.

“I hope you don’t mind a bit of hair.”

You can tell there’s some embarrassment in Taeyeon’s voice in the way it holds a bit of laughter, but you’re much too horny to care. “It’s sexy.”

“Is it?”

You nod, your right hand gently running over the hair. Taeyeon gasps at an almost imperceptibly quiet volume, that you might’ve otherwise missed if her lips weren’t so close to your ears. “Yeah…” Feeling her shiver at your touch emboldens your every move, and hearing a louder gasp as the pressure of your fingers against her crotch increases pushes you to finally say, “…and look, you’re so wet, too.”

“Ooh, god…”

Fuck. Everything about her, from the way she melts at your touch to her sexy groans to her svelte body screaming its desire—or rather, it’s need—for your touch, for you, turns you on more and more. Currently, you’re focused on the gradual movement of your hand, from the patch of pubic hair to further down south, but in the back of your mind, you’re fantasizing about ripping your pants off and shoving yourself all at once inside the idol’s tight core.

“God, you’re so sexy, Taeyeon.” When your fingers finally make it to her wet folds, your own anticipation also comes to a head when they make first contact with the damp, slightly sticky skin.

“Oo-Ooh!” Taeyeon’s moan drowns out yours, shuddering more noticeably and her legs wobbling a little at the contact. “Y-Yes, god, your fingers…”

Your fingers are now in full contact with her moist slit, each back-and-forth motion fueling the lust of both the idol and yourself. “And it’s even more wet down here.”

“Fffuuck, Kaiser…”

“Is this what you wanted?” You’re not even sure where this comes from, but feeling Taeyeon shudder as your breath tickles her ear empowers you to continue, “Is this the part of your body you were hoping I would be playing with by now?”

“Y-Yes, yes, your fingers feel so good, Kaiser.”

Hearing the glowing response is the final bit of confidence you need Taeyeon to give you to give you the reassurance that, in the moment, the two of you are equals. “You’re so desperate. What would your fans think if they saw you, mewling and whimpering like this?”

“Ff—ffuck, fuck,” Taeyeon’s breath hitches as your thumb brushes against the area surrounding her clit. “Th-They, they would be mortified.”

“Wouldn’t they? Then, why are you so wet?”

Taeyeon legs nearly give way when your thumb comes down onto her clit. It’s only thanks to your arms wrapped around her and your legs supporting her legs that she’s able to remain upright. The entire time, your eyes have been trained on Taeyeon, drinking in every bit of the salacious sight before you: just minutes ago, the two of you were practicing your two-person dance choreography, looking into the mirror at yourselves with the purpose of picking out mistakes. This very room, that you’ve seen in various other dance practice videos of Taeyeon and other SM artists, a beacon of dedication and hard work and the SM excellence that is the reason why their artists are always the most popular and in-demand, now serving witness to one of it’s most seasoned and experienced occupants fully naked, red-faced and panting at the work of your fingers buried between her creamy, snowy-white thighs.

“Who-Who’s, who’s fault is that?”

“Hmm?” There’s some mixture of a grin and a confused look on your face. Is she referring the to choreography? Sure, it’s somewhat sensual, but it’s nothing more than what an experienced performer like Taeyeon has done in the past. “Me? What have I done?”

“Y-Your, your body, pressing up against mine, god, it felt so good, I couldn’t help but start wondering what your sweaty, hot body would feel like against mine…”

Fuck.

Is Taeyeon telling the truth? Did she really get so turned on by you during the dance practice that she asked you to fuck her right here and now? Not even wanting to wait to go to somewhere safer and more private, like her apartment or his apartment, but instead asking you to strip her clothes in the very place she was hard at work just minutes ago?

Fuck.

Everything about the encounter thus far seems to be pointing towards Taeyeon telling the truth, and while Taeyeon’s repeated reassurance and reactions bolstered your confidence to the point that you no longer feel bound by the societal hierarchy Taeyeon’s status as an idol enforced upon you, this newly acquired knowledge revs your confidence up to dangerous levels.

“And then, you asked me if I you could help me with anything, and I really did try to hold it in, but when you insisted, I just couldn’t resist…”

So. She doesn’t just want to be fucked, she wants to be utterly and completely fucked, huh?

“The legendary Kim Taeyeon, loved by fans all around the world, and even loved amongst other idols.” By now, Taeyeon’s gasps have transformed into louder moans, her head leaning back into your chest as your fingers continue to work their magic on her hot sex. “Is it her that’s so fucking down bad that she’s asking the man she’s doing a two-person performance with to fuck her?”

“N-No, it’s, it’s just Taeyeon, who needs you so bad right now.”

You’ve done well to draw this out as long as you have, but hearing Taeyeon borderline begging for you is the last straw.

“Really?” Feeling you pull away from her causes Taeyeon to whine, but seeing you throw your shirt off shuts her up real quick. “Since you so nicely asked, why don’t I indulge you in all your dirtiest fantasies?”

“Would you?” Despite everything, Taeyeon still meets your eyes through the mirror and smiles widely at you. When you move to pull off your own sweatpants, her eyes flicker down and she turns around. “Wait.” You stop. “May I?”

Those big, pleading eyes, tilted upwards to meet your eyes, desperate, begging … how can you not oblige?

“Of course.” Taeyeon sinks to her knees, wasting no time in pulling your sweatpants off. “Although, I thought this was supposed to be me paying you back.”

“Oh don’t worry, you are paying me back.” Taeyeon leaves you no room to argue, seeing as she proceeds those words by palming the very noticeable bulge that had formed in your boxers. “You don’t know how much this thing has crossed my mind in the last couple of hours.”

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

The low moan seems to echo about the spacious practice room, which is shortly joined by a sharp hiss when Taeyeon gives your boxers a firm downward tug, sending the undergarment sliding down your legs. A satisfied, lustful hum erupts from Taeyeon’s throat as her slim fingers wrap around your veinous girth, and when her palm comes into contact with it, you let out another moan. Your eyes stay trained on Taeyeon, who is laser-focused on the pulsating shaft mere inches from her face.

“Hmm, so warm…”

Her second hand comes into contact with your dick, and as it envelops it, her face draws ever closer.

There are so many sexy things about Taeyeon that it only now comes to your attention how alluring her lips are. And, as they naturally part while her hands being slowly pumping your shaft, inching ever closer to your cock, your mind begins to race with all sorts of lascivious thoughts. Those same lips, from which comes the perhaps the most beautiful music in all of K-Pop, soft, pink, luscious, hot, whose breath you can start feeling against your glans, filled not with a melodious sound but instead with your cock, you can’t even begin to fathom, is this really happening, is she really going to—

“Mmm.”

Taeyeon starts with a tentative lick, collecting the bit of precum that had leaked out of your tip. You let out a groan, and your dick pulsates painfully in Taeyeon’s vice grip. “You’re as big as I hoped you’d be.”

“I’m gla—ah, Taeyeon!” Taeyeon interrupts you mid-sentence, taking your glans into her lips and before you can even blink, half of your length has disappeared inside her mouth. You can feel her lips pressing against your shaft, and combined with the mind-blowingly sexy visual of those luscious, strawberry lips stretching around your girth and the feeling of her tongue running along the underside of your dick, you can’t help but let out a groan. “Fuck, god, so warm…”

She’s barely able to take two-thirds of your length, gripping the rest of it with both hands, and pauses to swirl her tongue around your dick before she starts pulling away. She doesn’t let your dick out of her mouth though; as her lips retreat, her hands take its place to smear the saliva her tongue so graciously deposited onto your shaft. Your eyes briefly flicker up to see the back-view of the kneeling Taeyeon before you, her back arched and her cute butt sitting atop her feet as she starts taking your length back into her mouth.

“God, your mouth is so good…”

This time, Taeyeon’s able to fit your entire length inside her mouth, and when she does, she tilts her head to allow her tongue a better angle to slather your length with saliva as she pulls away. Her tongue continues to run up and down your shaft as her head bobs back and forth along your cock, twisting and turning and, with the help of her hands, coats your member with a fine sheen of saliva. It’s only then that she releases you, giving your tip a firm lick for good measure before looking up at you. “How did that—”

You cut Taeyeon off, grabbing her by the arm and hoisting her to a standing position. “Turn around.” Wordlessly, Taeyeon obeys. “Bend over.”

Oh, fuck.

Your domineering commands causes a welling of excitement and arousal to bubble up inside her, and when your hands cup her ass, Taeyeon lets out a sharp gasp, arousal overflowing from every pore of her body. This is what she needs. This is exactly what she needs.

“God, please…”

Her softly muttered words don’t make it to your ears, or perhaps you just aren’t paying attention: your fingers are testing her labia, pushing them apart to see if you can peer deeper inside, but are just met with pitch-black darkness. In the corner of your eyes, you can see Taeyeon’s eyes trained on your reflection on the mirror, her hands resting on her knees to help stabilize them.

“Nice and wet for me?”

Taeyeon nods, smiling as you lift your eyes to meet the reflection of hers. “You have no idea.”

“Then, be a good girl and hold your cute little butt cheeks apart.”

Taeyeon, again, wordlessly obeys. With one hand on your dick and one on her waist, you find yourself needing to angle at a significant downward slope to meet her wet slit, but when it does, Taeyeon lets out another, sharp gasp.

“Fuck…” This time, she mutters at a louder volume, and when push yourself in, it transforms into a sharp, echoey moan. “Fffuck!” The sound of her pleasure bounces off the walls and smothers your own moan, and as your cock buries itself inside the inferno that is Taeyeon’s pussy, the moans from both of you grow louder. “Babe, fuck, it’s stretching me out so much!”

It’s so much hotter than you would’ve imagined, so much wetter than you could’ve thought, and most of all, so damn tight that you’re barely unable to push your entire length inside her before pulling out. That motion sends ripples and shivers down Taeyeon’s spine, and another moan erupts from her lips when you thrust into her again, this time fully hilting her, causing the crisp sound of her ass smacking against your hips to echo about the room with her moans.

“Fuck, so tight.”

“Yes, oh god, yes!” You reach out to grab her arms, pulling her arms backwards to use as handlebars to fuck her with. “Fuck me harder, babe!” You need to stand with considerable distance between your legs, but you barely even care about the slightly awkward stance; your mind is completely comprised of drilling into Taeyeon’s dripping wet cunt. “Yes, please, right there!” The more you drill into her, the more her juices sputter out onto your groin, the wetter the sounds of her ass smacking against you are.

“So much energy, especially after all that dancing.”

“I-I could say the same about you.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see Taeyeon lifting her head, so you likewise rip your eyes away from the hypnotic, swaying motion of her tits to match her gaze. “Always have the energy to get plowed from behind, do you?”

“Only if you have the energy to do the plowing.”

It’s a wonder how Taeyeon can still look as gorgeous as she does, what with how violently you are rocking her body. In fact, her messy, tousled hair, her gently parted lips, her heaving chest, the visual the full-length mirror grants you is an exceedingly sexy version of Taeyeon that not her most salacious, thirst-trap Instagram pictures could hope to capture. Although the intense pressure of Taeyeon’s pussy seems to be working against you, feeling its fleshy, moist walls making way as it forces itself in and clings onto your shaft as you pull it out adds to your energy. Every satisfying smack!, every beautiful moan that tumbles out of Taeyeon’s lips, every time those juicy tits of hers shakes and sways to the rhythm of your hips, every second longer those alluring, lust-filled bed eyes bore into your soul, builds upon the lust filling every fiber of your being and tension building up in your nethers. It’s a hypnotically beautiful sight, watching Taeyeon’s tiny, but sturdy, frame shake as you continue to plow into her, but the more you sustain the awkward half-squatting position you’re doing, the more the burning in your quads takes the forefront of your mind.

“You like watching yourself being fucked like this?”

Taeyeon shamelessly nods. “Yes, it’s so fucking hot.”

“Why don’t we get closer to the mirror, then?”

Taeyeon nods, and you pull out of her. A slight shudder runs up Taeyeon’s spine as a bit more of her juices leak out of her sex, a steady trickling down her legs that you realize has left a tiny puddle on the floor. Taeyeon, seeing you look at the ground, turns around, her eyes also landing on the coalesced evidence of her lust. “Oh. Oops.” Taeyeon doesn’t seem the least bit worried, and in fact seems to be a bit turned on at the sight.

“Maybe the janitor will think it’s sweat.”

Taeyeon smiles. “Maybe.”

“Speaking of, when does the janitor usually come around to clean these rooms?”

Taeyeon shrugs. “In an hour or two, or maybe he’s making the round right now.”

The realization gives you pause, but seeing how flippantly Taeyeon turns around and begins walking to the mirror, you figure you shouldn’t care either. If the janitor happens upon the two of you fucking like wild animals, then you had better give him a damn good show.

You join Taeyeon, but quickly find yourself distracted by the soft swaying of Taeyeon’s cute, shapely ass. Again, you’re not sure how intentional it is, and you don’t end up getting to figure that out as, when Taeyeon reaches the mirror and turns around, catching you staring, she simply smiles softly. “I have an idea.”

“Oh?”

“I bet it was hard on your legs to fuck me like that, wasn’t it?”

You chuckle. “A little.”

“Then, why don’t I help you with that?” You look on with curiosity as Taeyeon plants both hands on the reflective surface and slowly starts lifting her left leg. “Help me?” Understanding what she’s trying to do, you quickly close the gap in two strides and catch her leg. “Thanks.” With your help, Taeyeon continues lifting her leg until it’s completely vertical. “That should be better for you.”

“Fuck…”

The impressive feat of flexibility is one thing, but the unobstructed sight of those pussy lips that were so tightly hugging your shaft moments ago causes your dick to twitch. Your lower half is screaming at you to hurry and bury yourself inside her already!, but your brain stops you, taking a moment to take in the beautiful sight, of Taeyeon’s flopping, glistening labia, her own cum trickling out of the pink lips and down her creamy white thighs.

“Do you like it?”

You nod. “It’s so fucking beautiful.”

Taeyeon giggles. “I never thought anyone would call that ‘beautiful’.”

“It is, though.”

“Do you think it’d look even more beautiful with that thick, veiny cock of yours wedged firmly between it?” You don’t need to be goaded any longer; with your left hand keeping Taeyeon’s left leg in place, your right hand guides your cock back into its sweltering abode, and the two of you groan in unison. “Fffuuck…”

“Hmm, yeah, it is quite beautiful like that.”

Your cheeky comment earns a giggle from Taeyeon. “I’m glad you think so.”

“And, I think you’re right.”

“Huh?” Taeyeon’s inquisitive expression quickly turns into shock which then turns into lustful as you pick up right where you left off, this time with renewed vigor. “Oh!”

“I think I can fuck you better like this.” If it weren’t for your legs bracing her right leg and now both hands holding her left leg in place, you’re sure Taeyeon would’ve fallen over already. It doesn’t take much for the faster and stronger strokes to start overwhelming her, every thrust pushing her face closer to the mirror until her cheek is flush with it.

“So much, oh god, so much…!”

“Leave it to Taeyeon, an idol with your caliber of experience, to think of ways to optimize things, including the most optimal way to be plowed into the dance practice room mirror.”

“Fuck, yes, give it to me!”

You find that even the feeling of the tensed calves of her left leg is turning you on. Every part of Taeyeon seems to be designed to arouse you, and the improved position channels that arousal: you still have to spread your legs slightly, but it’s not nearly as bad this time.

“This entire time, you were imagining being pounded into this mirror, taking in my fucking dick, weren’t you?”

“So much, you have no idea how much I needed this…”

“How can you even function as an idol when you’re surrounded so frequently by attractive men?”

Taeyeon shakes her head, or as much as she can with her face pressed against the cool, reflective material. “It-It’s not that, it’s just, it’s just you that made me so horny.”

You weren’t even fishing for compliments; you were just teasing her, saying anything that comes to mind, and hearing this from Taeyeon rebounds your ego from below the floor due to all those mistakes made during dance practice to now, where you’re not sure this room can contain it. With everything that had transpired in the last few minutes, you’re sure the synergy between the two of you has increased; if anything, this ‘compensation’ you’re giving to Taeyeon is going to make working with her easier, going forward.

But those thoughts are fleeting. Right now, you’re concentrated on drilling into Taeyeon, letting her leg rest on your shoulder and trapping it there with both hands, using it as leverage to piston into her faster and more fiercely by the second.

“It’s only my cock that you crave, is that what you’re saying?”

Taeyeon nods again. Her eyes are half-lidded, bits of drool staining the mirror; as an idol, one’s appearance is everything, but at that moment, that doesn’t seem to be a concern of hers. And, even still, Taeyeon still is drop-dead gorgeous, stunningly sexy, and it all makes you fuck her harder and faster.

“Yes! Only your cock, god, it’s so fucking hard inside me!”

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

The longer your assault on Taeyeon’s pussy continues, the more tightly you hug her leg until you find your face pressed against it. You can also feel Taeyeon’s balance begin to falter, the overabundance of ecstasy turning her knees to jelly, but you can’t help it: your eyes have, once again, drifted to her tits, and seeing them jiggle in tandem with your thrusts causes your left hand to drift away from her legs and to her chest.

“Everything about you is so fucking sexy, I can’t believe it’s me who gets to enjoy this.”

Taeyeon lets out a sharper moan as she feels your fingers rubbing her areola. “F-F-Ffuck, you-you’re, it feels so good, I’m losing my mind, oh my god…” when your fingers close in on those delectable, swollen nipples, they give it a hard squeeze, eliciting a sharp squeal from the idol. “Oh!”

“You like that?”

Taeyeon nods. “Yes! Fffuck!” She lets out another squeal as you give the other nipple a pinch. “Fuck, oh my god, it’s so—nng!” Every time you pinch her nipples, it’s like an electric shock courses throughout her body. They’re so satisfying to squeeze, and the ecstatic reaction drives you even further, so you keep at it. “Fuck! God, I can’t—nng! It’s so much, it’s so much!”

It’s coming, and you’re desperately fighting against it. Just one more second, draw this out for just one more second, let me continue enjoying her pussy just one second longer…

“W-Wait!”

Your eyes snap to Taeyeon, who has opened hers and is looking at you, flustered but also somewhat panicked.

Fuck. What was I about to do? She’s an idol, and I don’t have a condom on. Was I about to—

“I don’t want to finish like this. Let’s go back there,” Taeyeon says, motioning to the pile of clothes in the middle of the room. You comply, pulling out and gently lowering her leg back onto the ground. You’re mostly relieved that Taeyeon intervened, and that it’s not quite over yet, but a small part of you wishes you could’ve came inside her. Taeyeon is an idol, after all, and as un-idol-like as she’s been acting so far, this is the one thing she’d probably always have to keep in her mind.

It doesn’t take a few steps before Taeyeon stumbles a little; you move quickly to grab onto her arms, helping back up, saying, “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Taeyeon smiles at you. “Yeah. I guess you just fucked me so hard, my legs feel a little wobbly.”

Your lust balloons inside you, and you can feel your cock twitching, rearing to bury itself back inside Taeyeon. Thinking about extending this for as long as possible is all you can do to stop yourself from grabbing Taeyeon, turning her around, and slamming your cock back inside her until you cum.

“Oh, ok.”

The way Taeyeon continues walking after saying something so fucking salacious, you again wonder if Taeyeon even knows how she’s affecting you.

“Let’s sit down. This way, it’s easy for us both.” You comply, sitting down on the hardwood floor with legs crossed, but before Taeyeon follows, she asks, “Is your phone in the pocket of your pants?” Curious, but too horny to ask why she needs to know, you simply nod, which is apparently all Taeyeon needs to turn around, and, before long, you’re hilting her again. “God, fuck, I can’t believe how much you’re stretching my fucking pussy out…”

“What kind of an idol uses such filthy language?”

“The type of idol that loves the feeling of her pussy being split apart by your nice, thick cock~”

You stretch your legs out, keeping Taeyeon’s legs spread apart with your knees while your feet dig into the hardwood floor of the practice room and your hands on her waist, lifting her up and slamming her back down repeated on your cock. “We should show your fans this performance.” Taeyeon lifts her head, momentarily meeting your eyes through the mirror before falling down onto your hot connection. Taeyeon lets out a whimper, leaning back against you, her hands resting on your upper thighs, trying to hold on as best she can while you buck her up and down your lap.

“G-God, please…”

“Do you think your fans would like that?”

Taeyeon shakes her head, her eyes never leaving the sight of your dick disappearing repeatedly into her sopping wet snatch. “N-No, I, I can’t…”

“But look how much you’re enjoying this.”

“It’s … I, I can’t, but … fuck, I can’t, you’re making me lose my mind…”

Before, all you were doing is holding Taeyeon back: mistake after mistake, fumbling and stumbling over yourself, complicating things for the ever-patient Taeyeon. Now, you two are engaged in a different kind of choreography, and this time, it’s you who is leading.

“God, you feel so good, I can’t believe it…”

“F-Fuck, Taeyeon…” As much as you try to fight it, it’s inevitable. The brief reprieve was just that: brief, and now, your orgasm is knocking at the door. “Taeyeon, I-I’m, I need to pull out—”

“No!”

The sharp tone of Taeyeon’s protest shocks you.

“Don’t you dare pull out!”

What? What if she gets pregnant? That kind of a scandal … am I going to have to father Taeyeon’s children? Or maybe she’s on the pill? Or maybe she would just get an abortion? Would she be able to do something like that privately?

As quickly as these thoughts enter your mind, so too do they exit.

“Fuck…”

In the end, this is what Taeyeon asked you for to compensate for all the extra time and effort your continual mistakes forced her to spend. It doesn’t matter what you think, all of this is for her. And, if she doesn’t want you to pull out, then—

“Fuck, cumming—!”

You repeatedly slam into the deepest parts of her pussy as stream after stream of your seed fills Taeyeon’s womb. “Yes! Fuck, more! Yes! Fill me up!” You swear you’re seeing stars, but your hips continue to ram into the tiny idol, as if on autopilot, the convulsing walls of Taeyeon’s pussy squeezing your cock with the desperation of a parched person squeezing the last drops of water from their water skin. “It’s—It’s so hot! Fffuck…” When your orgasm finally subsides, your grip of her waist loosens, and you lean back, planting your hands on the floor behind you.

“Oh, god…”

“T—…Tae, Taeyeon…”

“Hmm?”

Still trying to catch your breath, you meet Taeyeon’s eyes through the mirror, who you can tell is pretty close to spent as well. “Wh-Why, Why…”

“Oh. For this.” Grabbing sweatpants, she fishes out your iPhone and opens the camera with practiced ease. Before you can process what’s happening, she points your phone’s camera at the mirror, poses cutely for it, and snaps a picture.

“Wha—?!”

“There,” Taeyeon says proudly, opening up the gallery and showing the picture to you: while your shocked expression and her cute smile is visible in the picture, the clear focal point is the creampie that’s leaking out of her hole that’s still stuffed full with your cock, and, incidentally, the cute little patch of slightly damp pubic hair that’s sitting atop it. “Now, you have this for me.”

You stare dumbly at Taeyeon. “I … I don’t understand.”

Taeyeon dismounts you, not caring that your creampie is now leaking onto the floor, and sits facing you. “Remember how I said it was hard for me to meet people?”

“Um…” honestly, you’re still reeling from the mind-blowing orgasm that you have trouble recalling even minutes ago, right before when Taeyeon asked you to fuck her, “…right, yeah.”

“Well, now that you have that picture, if you ever want to meet up with me and I don’t feel like it, I’ll have a harder time saying ‘no’.”

“Wha…” there are so many things wrong with what Taeyeon just said, but chief among them being, “…why would you trust me with this?”

“You’re a good guy. Plus, I definitely don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” Taeyeon is absolutely radiating with beauty, and paired with that blinding smile, it’s hard to imaging this very woman is the same woman who insisted you creampie her just moments ago.

“…well…”

It still doesn’t make sense to you. Nothing about anything in the last however-many-minutes makes any sense to you: the fact that the Kim Taeyeon, adored and sought after by many, asked you to not only fuck her, but cum inside her, the fact that she just took a picture of that creampie on your phone, and that she’s insisting you use it to essentially blackmail her into … what? To fuck more? To just hang out? Was Taeyeon looking for companionship, in the end?

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I just…”

“Yeah,” Hearing your response puts a smile back on Taeyeon’s face, “I’ll make sure to message you from time to time.”

“I would love that.”

The two of you clean up, and as you leave, you pass by a janitor who is suspiciously avoiding your gaze.

Is that something to worry about…? Surely not, right?

[lisdens]

i fear some people aren't ready to face the fact that at some point vi had to let go of her parentified-child role because it would also mean understanding that jinx is an adult who makes her own choices and doesn't need protection the same way she needed back when they were kids. vi says so herself ('why did you come get me? you don't actually need my help, you haven't for a long time').

everyone who expected vi to become some sort of leader for zaun didn't understand that the reason she fought so hard in her youth for her family was because what she truly craved for was safety for herself and her loved ones. it's the whole reason she has that conversation with vander back in episode 2 of season 1.

vi going after jinx when caitlyn opens the cell would only reinforce the idea that vi has to step into the role of caregiver/protector again. vi isn't jinx's mom, she's her sister, and she has her own battle against her internal demons.

in fact, she spirals down very quickly once locked inside the cell, which is later reflected when caitlyn finds her; she's certain she screwed up again and she believes she's lost both jinx and caitlyn, and she knows it happened because vi was being herself, by doing something she wouldn't have done during her act1 self.

her fallout with caitlyn happened because caitlyn couldn't accept who vi truly is, so how can vi expect caitlyn to be okay with what she's done, when that was the reason they grew apart in the first place?

because caitlyn chooses vi, she prioritizes her over her revenge. caitlyn lets go of it because she loves vi for who she is, and not despite it.

jinx and vi love each other unconditionally, even if they don't understand each other entirely ('i didn't get to do much of this with my sister, she was more into hitting things'), so how could anyone outside of her family love vi, while simultaneously understanding her?

vi probably just went through ten different scenarios of how caitlyn is going to reject her for it, for showing who she is, and who she's always been.

and what does caitlyn do in response?

by this point caitlyn doesn't believe vi has forgiven her, so the whole 'you've grown a bit predictable' isn't a pickup line to get in her pants.

this is caitlyn's attempt at cracking a joke.

vi's worries are met with a dumb phrase that's meant to cheer her up, the same way vi did back in episode 1 ('thought for sure you were gonna get yourself killed').

she spiraled down believing she had lost everyone, and caitlyn proves her wrong with an easy smile and a reassurance; 'this is who you are, i know it, watch me be more than okay with it'.

this, for vi, must feel so, so freeing.

this is the one thing she's been craving for her whole life; the feeling of safety. i'm me, and i'm safe to exist that way in here.

she spent her entire childhood fighting to provide that stability for her family because she was given no other choice but to step into that role, she pushed her own needs aside to make sure everyone else was okay. and now, her sister is an adult who has survived without vi's protection, who has accomplished a lot of things without her big sister by her side.

now it's vi's turn to crave safety, it's vi's turn to choose and let someone else make her feel safe and reassured.

vi's not a symbol of zaun, that's what characters like sevika and ekko exist for; neither of them were pressured to step in and take that role, they fight for their city because they chose to and because they want to (and, if i might add, they're very good at it!).

she's just a girl who went through some really fucked up things in life and only ever wished for a little stability.

and she finds that in caitlyn, so she chooses it.

[1d1195]

Chances

~5k words

From Me: It's been about 2 minutes since my last love at first sight story so I figured that was long enough for another one. Just a silly little thing.

Warnings: A tiny bit of smut. Also she's shorter than Harry (only relevant for 20 seconds, max). Other than that, should be fluff fluff fluff.

Summary: Airports are gross, overpriced, and extremely anxiety-inducing. She hates being there.

But it's also where she sits with a really cute guy who makes her feel like she's flying from the moment she looks at him and before takeoff even begins.

What was it about airports that were so romantic? Everyone knew how gross they were. A petri dish of diseases on every surface. Overpriced food and drinks. Not to mention the exorbitant price of books and magazines. Almost everyone passing through was stressed with worry about missing their flight, losing their bag, losing their kid, or personal items. She was one of them. Even with an hour and half cushion she was worried it would take off or something while she was going to get a coffee.

Which was perhaps why she didn’t notice where she chose to sit at her gate. All that anxiety festering and building in her that only the relief of flopping into one of the seats near an outlet would release. She put her coffee in the little cup holder, tucked her bag beneath her feet and placed the overpriced book on her lap.

Someone called out for another person making her head tip up at the noise.

It was fate. Destiny. Whatever corny thing a romance writer would say it was. But there were only so many places her eyes could fall, and they happened to land on him.

What was it about making eye contact with a guy her age at the airport that made her feel like she was in a Hallmark movie? He gave her a polite smile. One that was downright pretty. Too pretty to be on a man's lips and one that made her heart skip a beat.

Hence why she was thinking about the romanticism of the airport in the first place.

She sincerely hoped she returned his kind smile because at the very least she didn’t want to be rude. But it was all a matter of seconds; this little romance novel scene she was playing out. Her cheeks felt warm with a rush of blood to her skin before she dropped her gaze back to her book. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to do something crazy like profess how taken she was with him after meeting those stunning green eyes for half a second like the love at first sight she saw in movies.

But was that his gaze she felt heating up her skin? She refused to look up, but the words of her novel blurred together, and she could only think about how blue was one of her favorite colors growing up but green might have kicked that right out of the top spot in that moment.

*

Their flight was delayed which stressed her out beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even that long but if she didn’t have somewhere to be when she landed, she would have felt a lot better. She swore she was the last person to board the plane, and it only fueled her anxiety further.

But if it weren’t for the delay, her being last, or the fact that she was going to miss the rehearsal dinner for her friend’s wedding, the anxiety of seeing the hot guy from the gate was sitting next to her empty seat was surely going to give her a heart attack at the ripe age of her late twenties.

She felt her cheeks burning in recognition as he smiled again at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

That pretty face that was going to haunt her dreams for a lifetime. “Are you 12A?” He asked. The window seat, fortunately. His voice was warm and gentle.

“Yeah, sorry,” she bit her lip.

He chuckled standing in the aisle to get out of her way so she could get settled. “S’nothing t’apologize for.”

“I’m sure you thought you were going to have the row to yourself,” she sighed and placed her oversized purse on her seat so she could stow her carryon above her head.

“Allow me,” he offered and hoisted the bag to the storage space as if she hadn’t crammed a week’s worth of clothes and shoes inside it for only a long weekend. “S’okay. S’not a big plane. They said it was full.”

Stupid airports and their romantic goggles.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully and slipped into their row.

She noted all of his items were ready: a book tucked into the seat back compartment, a bottle of water stowed there as well, and his phone and headphones that he pulled from his pocket and placed on the tray once he was seated again. She fiddled with her bag, pulling out the items she wanted tucked into the spaces she had easy access to as well. Most importantly, she grabbed the travel package of disinfectant wipes to clean off her little home away from home for the next few hours.

“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” he smirked admiring her tidiness.

“I think Covid taught me that airplanes are one of the most disgusting places on the planet.”

He chuckled. “I suppose s’fair,” he nodded in agreement. “D’you have an extra one?” He asked. She nodded and held the little package out to her row-mate. He took two and repeated her routine to clean. The air vent, the tray table, the belt buckle and arm rest. He used the second to wipe down his headphones, phone, and book with a quick swipe. She held out a little sandwich bag she used for trash while on the plane. “Y’must fly a lot,” he smirked at her preparedness.

“Used to,” she took a deep breath. “I still get kind of nervous.”

“Honestly, would think y’were not human if y’didn’t get nervous.”

The announcements were being made and she focused on the flight attendants and their safety demonstration. Well, tried to. The man beside her was so handsome it was like he demanded to be stared at; it was hard not to comply to such a silent request. He looked effortlessly comfortable and so attractive it was unfair. But maybe it was those stupid airport goggles making her fall in love with someone relatively close to her age and perhaps he was only a little hot.

But as he reached for the air vent again, his sweatshirt sleeve slid down his wrist so that her eyes darted to his forearm and landed on the tattoo on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t even something she would qualify as a sexy tattoo, but it was there. As it appeared in her vision, all her dignity, self-respect, and thought of him being only a little hot, flew right out the window.

Stupid men.

The plane jolted a little as it started its take-off, making her gasp and she gripped the armrest tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as it settled into its rhythm. The final announcement that the ascent was going to begin came through the speaker and the plane got quiet as it always did at that time. “Hey, love?”

It was pathetic she recognized his voice already. Pathetic that she was going to respond to the little pet name. They had barely spoken. But the two little words were soft and sexy. In a gentle kind of way. She peeked out of one eye to glance at him. She swallowed thickly around the nerves. “Uh... yeah?”

“I can hold your hand, if y’want. S’just a tight grip y’got on m’arm,” it was so gentle. He didn’t even sound annoyed or pained. She gasped again, released his arm from her goddamn death grip, and covered her mouth. How fucking embarrassing. She didn’t even notice.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No, s’fine,” he assured her, his smile was so kind. Like she was a wounded bird that he found after it flew into the window. “Here,” he offered pulling her hand from her mouth and laced their fingers together. “M’not a fan of takeoff either,” he explained giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Did he feel how perfectly their hands fit together? Or did she imagine it? These airplane goggles were thick as hell. She was fucked when she got off the plane and never saw him again. They were silent during the remainder of the ascent and once the bell signaled that they could unbuckle, the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Harry gave her hand a squeeze again before releasing it.

“Thank you,” the sincerity in his voice made her blush and she was glad it was dark on the plane and the flight would remain dark. Because if she had to see how pretty his face was for the whole flight, she wasn’t going to make it. It was unfair that someone so handsome was seated next to her and she would never see him again. Someone who was thanking her for holding her hand. After she tried to rip his arm hair out.

Did his hand feel cold? Her hand felt cold. It was so ridiculous she just wanted to scream.

She had the worst luck.

*

Harry had the best luck. The pretty girl from the gate was in the same row as him. He got to hold her hand. The flight was only five or so hours long and the thought of it being delayed was miserable. But there she was looking so unbelievably beautiful.

There’s a REALLY pretty girl at my gate. He texted Mitch the second he saw her.

You better not be creepy. Sarah says there’s NOTHING worse than a guy being creepy at the airport.

I’m not going to make my soulmate uncomfortable. I’m just going to ask her every question that pops into my head to get to know her, and then ask how many kids she wants to have with me.

...Best of luck to her.

I’m probably not even going to talk to her :( She looks busy and what are the chances she’ll be sitting next to me? There’s no way I have that kind of luck.

But Harry did have that luck it seemed. The pretty girl was tucked into their row against the window, her head resting against the side of the plane. She was clean, organized, and adorable. He liked how she spoke to the flight attendant. Like she was a hinderance by being a passenger. It was sweet and he admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was so grateful when Harry handed her the little bag of pretzels and the drink she got.

“Reading something good?” She asked quietly.

Harry smiled and held it out to her so she could read the back cover. “Something m’sister recommended.”

She intently read the words on the back and nodded. “I think I’m going to add it to my never-ending list.”

God, he wanted to say he could give it to her when he was finished. But he was never going to see her again. So maybe he didn’t have the luck he hoped he did. “How ‘bout you?”

“Um...” she smiled. “It’s nothing... intelligent. It’s a brain-rotting romance thing. I don’t know, I like to read trashy stuff on the plane. Take my mind off it and everything else.”

“I see,” he didn’t ask Gemma a lot of questions, but he knew that meant it was filled with spicy romantic scenes that he could only dream about with someone as pretty as her. But that would be what Sarah called creepy, so he pushed that thought away quickly. “M’not a huge e-book person.”

“They’re good for travel,” she smiled. “I love bookstores, and I think I could build a whole house out of the books I have or want to buy. But traveling... it’s nice to have something compact. But I bought a book at the convenience store before we left. Which is so dumb because the mark up is like an extra ten dollars and I could have gotten it for free on this thing but the Wi-Fi is a bit of a problem sometimes, like I can’t get my new book to—” She paused as Harry listened intently. It was so disarming listening to her talk about books and her e-reader. It was adorable. Her eyes, even in the faint glow from the emergency airplane lights, were lit with excitement. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No!” He frowned, shaking his head hurriedly. He immediately missed the excitement in her eyes. “Y’weren’t. I never thought ‘bout how the traveling is easier with it. I had t’forgo a whole outfit t’get m’books in m’bag.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “I always do that. Except I’m sure you felt how heavy my bag was, I didn’t do it this time. I told myself I wasn’t going to overpack and I just couldn’t do it.”

“M’sister has a hard time with it too.”

“It’s impossible, I think. Especially for an event, you know?”

Was Harry still smiling? He couldn’t stop smiling. She just had this air about her. The air between them was vibrating and it wasn’t because of turbulence. She had to feel it, right? Harry couldn’t be imagining this electric feeling that was pulsing between them. They were just sitting there, staring at each other.

“Can I say something crazy?” He asked.

“Crazy? Are you planning on murdering me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I jus’...” he paused and scanned her face memorizing the moment wondering how on earth he could meet her again. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have a plane ride back with her. But there couldn’t be that much good luck. “This is a bit...” he trailed off and he chuckled. His face was only inches from hers. She bit her lip.

“Yeah... it is.”

“S’crazy, right?”

She nodded. “It is,” she whispered back.

“Hi,” he said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi,” she giggled.

*

When the plane began its descent, he held her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It made her stomach flutter. As they left their little row, her heart hammered in her chest. How unfair it was that she would never see him again. He grabbed her bag from the compartment above and he walked with her all the way to baggage claim. They chatted a little more. Smiling and giggling. She didn’t even realize he was still holding her hand.

At least the airport goggles were working both ways it seemed.

“You let me go on and on about overpacking and you checked a bag?” He smirked, grabbed her hand again and led her toward the rideshare pickup spot. “Can I say something crazy?”

“Are y’planning on murdering me?” He asked.

“You felt it right?”

“Felt what?” The smile melted off her face and she dropped his hand like it burned her. “Whoa, hey,” he laughed and snagged it quick into his again. “S’bad joke,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. “Course I felt it.”

She looked at her feet. The seconds felt like hours as she looked for something to say. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she frowned looking back at him.

“Yeah...” He sighed. “It’s...” he sighed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell him. They needed more time, more space.

She wanted to live on that plane.

Harry wanted to stay at that airport.

She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It was crazy. Outlandish. Ridiculous. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. He smiled on her mouth making her want to melt. His hand found her lower back, pulled her closer because in just sneakers she couldn’t reach his lips completely. With her firmly in his embrace, he nipped at her lower lip. It was so sinful she shivered.

The honking interrupted their moment, pulling each other apart. “I have to go,” she whispered looking at the Uber that matched the license plate listed on her phone.

“I know.”

“Hi,” she whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Hi.”

“It was... really nice meeting you,” her smile was so goddamn pretty it was going to make Harry cry.

“It was nice meeting you, love,” he answered. Safely tucked her into the back of the cab. She unrolled the window.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry,” he said.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Nice meeting you, Harry.”

*

“You have outdone yourself,” she smiled as she turned. The woman before her had a stunning smile, her hair half pinned, her white silk pajamas shimmering in the light. “They’re stunning.”

“You’re one to talk, I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to mess anything up,” she wrinkled her nose. “You love them?” She asked.

“I love them. They might upstage me.”

“I sincerely doubt it. You look stunning already.”

“Do you hate me for not making you a bridesmaid?”

“God, no,” she shook her head. “I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of person anyway. If you need anything today, I’m your girl,” she promised. “I was too far away,” she shrugged.

“Don’t remind me,” she frowned. “These flowers are the things of dreams. You are the best,” she sighed dreamily. “Can I see my bouquet?” Her frown quickly turned into a smile again. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”

She went to the bucket that was at the edge of what would be the ceremony floor and pulled the bouquet from it. She felt so proud and happy with the arrangement she made for one of her long-time best friends. “Seph,” she smiled. “You look beautiful,” she reminded her.

Persephone grinned admiring the bouquet. “You’re incredible... How was your flight? Other than delayed?”

“It was...” she tried to think about anything but the color green. “Good.”

“Oh?” Seph’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arched suspiciously “How good? Did you join the mile high club?”

“Oh my God, Persephone, of course not.”

“Well, you don’t say good like that if he’s not cute.”

A slight pause as she looked at the ceiling and then back at her friend. “He was really cute.”

“You’re a walking Hallmark movie.”

“That’s literally how I felt.” They giggled then she sighed thinking about the kiss she shared with a stranger. It was so unlike her to get all in a twist about a guy she just met. This wasn’t normal. It was like she was still in the airport. There were so many things they didn’t talk about. So many things she didn’t know about him and never would. It was unfair and yet she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she was still flying. Shaking her head, she turned to her friend once more. “Alright, I have to finish these flower arrangements. Not sure if you know this, but there’s a wedding happening here tonight.”

“Sorry about your airplane man, babe,” Seph squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey, no frowns. It’s your wedding day,” she turned back to the table she was working on before her friend’s interruption. “I think some moments are meant to just... exist in that moment.”

*

Harry had thought about only three things that day. Breathing, cake, and of course the beautiful girl he met on the plane.

You KISSED her?! Sarah asked.

I know... I’ve never met anyone like her.

That’s a real bummer, Harry, honestly. It was and Sarah was right. At first, he was joking, but now he was certain she was his soulmate, and he just let her go. But what choice did he have? Yes, there was the feeling of his heart beating faster. The excitement of making her laugh. But there was the calmness, the tranquility of being beside her. Holding her hand.

Maybe it was morbid, but Harry was certain he was looking for someone to hold his hand if the plane were to go down and maybe that’s what a soulmate really was.

It was easy. Easy to talk to her, make her laugh. It was easy to get to know her and he didn’t even know anything about her. He didn’t know where she was from, what she did, where she was going, but he just knew that she was his and he let her go. There were too many variables. Too many things he couldn’t control.

“Harry, you almost done?”

“Jus’ putting the finishing touches,” he mumbled.

“We’re going to be late!”

“They won’t start without us,” he rolled his eyes.

“If there is a speck of—”

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” he shook his head, coming to the other room and brushing his hands along his coat. “Let’s get married, yeah?”

*

The maid of honor talked about how lucky the pair of them were to find one another. How there were an infinite number of opportunities for them to not have met but there was this special moment destined for each other. Where Persephone would walk into the library to sit in her favorite study spot and if she wasn’t so superstitious she would have just found another table.

But instead, she walked right up to the table, told her future husband he was in her spot, and she was preparing for an exam, and she wouldn’t let him use her favorite seat.

The best man spoke about how he was actually destined to be with the groom for forever and ever which made the entire place laugh.

But talk of luck and destiny just made her feel miserable on the inside. If she asked for his number or where he lived, it would be hours from where she lived. She would be devastated. A kiss was a good ending to her little story. That would suffice.

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. That would work too. Something to make her feel like a horrible person and lessen the blow that her soulmate was somewhere out there never to be seen again. Harry was just a guy that held her hand on a plane and talked about books with her for hours so she wouldn’t be scared. Someone that split his snacks with her even though she didn’t know him.

No. She couldn’t think about him. She had to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t good for her brain or her heart.

It was a beautiful ceremony. That’s what she needed to focus on. Persephone was a gorgeous bride and the event was just... perfect. “I think I’ve given your name and number to just about every single woman here,” Seph said sliding into a seat beside her and kissed her cheek.

She laughed. “Well thank you,” she smiled. “Let me see,” she held her hand out for the one with her new jewelry and she admired the pretty diamond that glimmered alongside the new band of diamonds below it. “Everything is beautiful.”

“This place is beautiful because of you. Just like you said.”

“Oh... it was beautiful before. I just added to it.”

“I didn’t see it though. It’s a bargain if you can envision it like this. I seriously wouldn’t have picked it without you saying you’d do the flowers,” Seph explained. “You saw so much more than I did.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a place on earth that doesn’t benefit from flowers.”

“Well, thank you,” she squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t be having a wonderful day without you. I know it was a lot to travel out here and—”

“No, no. Don’t even. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Flowers or no flowers.”

Persephone grinned. “Well... in other news... do you see anyone as cute as your airplane man? Lerone has a lot of single friends.”

She smirked and shook her head. “No offense, Seph, but there is no one that’s going to be as cute as my airplane guy.”

“No one?”

Her head snapped up to the voice that she had already planned on dreaming about for the rest of her life. Her eyes met the same green gaze she had the pleasure of looking at for five hours while chatting about books and whispering about nothing of importance (but it all seemed important at the time). There was no way. She didn’t have this kind of luck. If there was a squeaky carriage at the grocery store she was sure to pick it. There was no way that—

“Hi Harry!” Persephone smiled. “Do you two know each other?”

“Something like that,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hi,” Harry grinned at her.

She cleared her throat, adrenaline flowing through her body. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Harry baked our cake. He went to school with Lerone.”

“Oh,” she swallowed.

“And I heard y’did all the work with these pretty flowers,” Harry smiled.

“She’s like the flower queen,” Persephone giggled.

“I see.”

There was a pause while they stared at each other. Harry grinning like a madman, he was sure. But she was stunning. A floral dress draped her body, her hair half pinned up. She was so pretty. Somehow even prettier than the way she looked on the airplane and Harry was certain she could never be prettier than the moment she sat next to him.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Hi,” he chuckled.

“Of all the gin joints.”

Harry took a seat beside her. Persephone had moved onto the next table and yet, she hadn’t even noticed. “I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you, love,” he grabbed her hand. “Been thinking ‘bout the plane, y’e-reader, and that earth-shattering kiss.”

Her cheeks heated up and Harry reached out to brush his thumb on her cheek. “This is insane,” she whispered.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I don’t have luck like this,” she explained. “I’m the kind of person that has their luggage get lost. Or my coat will snag on the doorknob. If I didn’t want to be paired with someone in a group project in high school, I could guarantee I was going to be in their group.”

“Y’think it’s lucky you’re meeting me?” He practically wiggled his eyebrows. Trying to sound egotistical but all it did was make her fall harder for him.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Well...yeah,” she swallowed. “I mean... what else am I supposed to call it?”

“It doesn’t have t’be luck. Can jus’ be meeting you.”

“I don’t think it works that way for me.”

“Can I dance with you?” He asked.

“I’m not very good and I think there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes and—”

Harry was already helping her stand and tugging her to the dance floor. She did step on his toes, not hard, but her quiet “sorry” was lost on Harry. It felt perfect to hold her in his arms. One hand in his, her other at the back of his neck, his free hand on the small of her back. They fit like puzzle pieces. “A florist, hmm?” He hummed right by her ear.

“A baker?” She replied.

He chuckled. “What are the chances?”

*

“D���you have any idea how good y’look?” He groaned. She was in just a T-shirt. Harry’s T-shirt. He propped his head in his hand as he looked at her laying in his bed. His finger skimming just below the hem of the shirt. It barely touched her thighs and the only thing that stood in his way was a scrap of fabric she called underwear.

She giggled. “Back at you.”

“This is insane,” he smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

“It is,” she whispered.

If all her bad luck had been to make this weekend happen, she was forever grateful. This was worth it. Harry was worth it. “When’s your flight?”

“Quarter of five. When’s yours?”

“The same, of course.”

She smiled and tucked her face into his chest. “How far away are you from my shop?”

“Only ‘bout a half hour drive,” he told her. “Why?”

“Just... wondering.”

“Jus’ want t’know how much time and distance is between you and a toe-curling orgasm?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I wasn’t talking ‘bout you,” he peppered a line of kisses down the side of her face and along her neck, down the curve of her shoulder, even when the T-shirt got in the way. “You are so pretty,” he mumbled pulling at his shirt to touch her soft skin and curves. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so pretty.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, I’d remember you,” he smiled pressing his lips to her collarbone. He pulled the shirt off her and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples softly. Making them perk up more than they already were with the cold air from the room and no barrier between her. “Definitely remember this,” he mumbled into her skin.

“I have to pack,” she whispered but her voice was air and her resolve wasn’t there.

“Put it in m’checked bag,” his lips were occupied by one of her nipples making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. “Jus’ shove everything in there. Then s’a promise I’ll see y’after we land.”

Her heart fluttered. “You want to see me again?”

He popped his head up from licking at her like she was candy. The air was even chillier against the sensitive skin without Harry’s warm mouth wrapped around her. “M’sorry, was I not clear?”

She smirked. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about airport goggles.”

“Airport goggles?” He repeated.

“I have really bad luck, Harry. I just worry that the idea of me in an airport because I’m roughly your age... or like, you know airplane food is a real thing? Not just a joke? Something about the altitude messing with your tastebuds or something. So maybe this is all an illusion, is what I’m saying. Maybe I am really unlucky because when we get back to our real life we won’t have airport goggles and—”

“Kitten,” he chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her lip. “Shh,” he whispered and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “I hear you. But m’telling you, there’s no such thing as airport goggles. Even if there are, m’never taking them off.”

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[kazumist]

no idea what the hell your relationship with him is in this but i thought that the idea of caleb randomly proposing to you with some leftover spaghetti sauce by the corner of his lip on a random thursday would be funny.

you and caleb have this weird thing where you’d pretend to be a couple whenever there’s a couple discount going on.

it doesn’t matter where it is. be it some lowkey cafe, a good restaurant, or even a department store—you’ll be calling up caleb to join you for the discount. and right now, there is a couple discount going on in a new cafe that you wanted to visit. 

they were offering fifty percent off as long as you’re with your boyfriend or girlfriend! why wouldn’t you take up on that offer? you had to drag caleb to it.

“why are we here again, pips?” caleb asks as you pull him to the cafe. “because there is a couple discount going on where everything is fifty percent off as long as they’re with their partner!” you answer him, not looking back. “and you chose me because...?”  he trails off. you stop in your tracks.

“uh.. because why not? don’t act like this is anything new to you, caleb.”

“are you sure it isn’t because you couldn’t ask anyone else?” you gave him a playful glare in return. “do you want me to ask someone else then?” you ask him back. caleb seems to have shut up at that.

reaching the cafe, you two found yourselves a seat. you timed your arrival at the place perfectly, choosing a slow hour to enjoy their discount offer. “may i take your order?” the waitress asks as she approaches your table. before your order could leave your lips, caleb beats you to it.

“one strawberry cheesecake for the lady and i'll have...  a latte will do.”

“well, today is your lucky day, sir! we just have a 50% discount for couples who order here today.”

“really now? how lucky of us indeed.” caleb steals a glance at you. it was quick. a teasing glint in his eyes. unnoticeable to the waitress. but you saw it as soon as he shifted his gaze back at the waitress until she left your table to send your orders to the counter.

“how did you know that i wanted to try their strawberry shortcake?” you asked him. “i saw you staring at it a little longer compared to others and took a wild guess. i got it right, didn’t i?”

“always so observant.”

“only for you, pipsqueak.”

-

the next time you two went out for another couples discount going around, you were stunned.

caleb was the one who invited you to eat out today. and this time it was in a restaurant. as the two of you were enjoying your meal in peace, caleb suddenly got on one knee with a paper ring hidden in his palm and started spewing the most nonsensical wedding proposal monologue you ever heard.

“fun fact: i have always loved you. having the privilege to stand by your side as we grew up together was the biggest blessing that i could ever receive in my life. and i don’t think that being just your boyfriend isn’t gonna be enough for me as time goes on. so, will you continue to be my best friend forever and marry me, pips?”

what the actual fuck is going on?

you weren’t even aware that there was a discount going on in the first place! but when caleb shoots you a smooth wink, you knew you had to act your part. with a famous cliche of saying yes! a thousand times yes! you put a palm on your mouth for the extra effect of showing how “shocked” you were.

once you two left the place, you elbowed caleb by his side. “ow! what was that for!” you huff at him. “that was for you being insane for pulling up that stunt earlier.”

“but i was serious about that though.”

“what?!”

[just-some-random-blogger]

I NEED MORE CREGAN STARKKKKK

Pelts

You were not one to grow jealous, but the knowledge that Lord Stark's favorite pelt cloak was a gift of affection from his old sweetheart inspired anything but affection from you.

Cregan Stark x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, jealousy, pettiness, fluff, a bit of angst ig????, etc.

A/N: hey nonnie im honored you like my cregan stuff. this is my first req since closing them. i feel like perhaps this is the world telling me i need to start writing fluff again............ lol HAHAH

The Lord of Winterfell had just arrived. Normally, I would meet him with a smile and brush the snow from his shoulders before warming his cheeks with the heat from my own palm. But today, neither did I brush the snow from his cloak, nor did I rub his cheeks. How irritating that he did not see to mind or even notice.

I do not fault him for lapping his meal like a starved beast. He rarely has time to have a proper meal when he is working, let alone when his duty calls him all the way up to The Wall for days on end. And yet, as he gobbled up his food, as though he was denied his whole life, my own appetite left me at the sight.

His tongue swiped the corner of his mouth and yet evidence of his meal remained. He chewed eagerly as he reached out for a cup of wine to wash everything down.

I could not help the face I made at the sound of his belch.

Only then did he recognize me. He sets his cup down, "wife," says Cregan, "you are not eating."

I raise my brows and press my lips into a smile, "I am not hungry, my lord."

My lord. Cregan straightens up from his seat and leans back. He clears his throat as his face twists warily, "are you well?"

I do not respond. I rest my hands upon the table. The candlelight between us flickers momentarily.

He gulps and sets his utensils down. He sighs slowly, "have I offended?"

I clench my hands tightly.

Cregan's eyes flicker to them. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks up at me. He does not like that my expression remains the same.

"Your pelt... milord," I mutter.

Immediately, the pelt upon his shoulders feel like a tonne. He rolls his shoulders back and immediately undoes it, "forgive me. It is inappropriate to have it on while-"

"Who gifted it to you?"

He freezes midway. He waits for me continue as he slowly places his cloak upon his lap. His eyes widen slightly, in confusion, in alarm. Was it a gift? He does not recall.

His silence is aggravating. I clench my jaw and lean forward, "do you not wish to tell me?"

Cregan opens his mouth.

"She told me herself."

A line forms between his brows, "who?"

"Lady Tallart."

He pinches his lips together. Lady Tallart? It could not be Edmond Tallart's mother who gifted this. It must be his wife... but which house did she belong to before she was wed?

He looks as though he is trying to recall the instance, the exact moment wherein his cloak was given to him. Somehow, the arduous recollection spurs me further into animosity. I growl, "do you truly not remember?"

He shakes his head, "I do not."

I clear my throat and push myself up from my seat.

Cregan stands quickly, so quickly, in fact, that his chair falls behind him with a loud thud, not that he cares. He calls my name out with concern and it makes me snap.

"I would appreciate it if you chose another cloak to wear."

The man walks over to me, forcing me to lift my gaze upon his worried face. I raise a hand at him before he can think to touch my arm. He withholds his touch.

"Cassandra and I had a cloak tailored in your absence. If it pleases you, you should wear it. However, if it is not to your taste, I can-"

"It is my taste," he interrupts. He nods his head, "the pick of my wife is my taste. I will wear it"

The glow of candlelight on Cregan's cheek makes my stomach roll. Bile rises up from my throat as his brows furrow in nothing but further concern.

"I care little for what I wear," he casts his cloak off to the side, "I care more for what concerns you."

My irritation over the matter bursts into embarrassment in an instant. A burning sensation creeps up from behind me, and soon I can no longer look upon my husband. I look back to the candle on the table and rashly gather my food. Before Cregan can speak, I mutter under my breath, "please enjoy your food, husband."

There's little he can do but watch as I rush off. Two wolves battle inside him, one that wishes to chase after, and another that keeps him still where he stands. Just as he is about to obey the former, the servant girl, Cassandra, comes up to him, "milord. Might I speak my piece?"

He watches as his wife disappears and sighs. He turns to Cassandra, "speak it."

She frowns, "milady has spent the three nights you were away making you a cloak herself."

"Has she?" his brows tighten.

Cassandra nods, "but her needlework is not as good as she wished, which is why she bought you this, milord," she hands him a neatly folded cloak.

Cregan takes it from her and sighs deeply. He unfolds the garb and inspects his wife's gift. He hangs the fabric on his arm and releases another breath, "will you show me my wife's needlework?"

Cassandra looks apprehensive, but she obeys her lord.

The next morning, I rouse to an empty bed. A thousand pins prick my heart, but I have no one to blame but myself for the turn of events.

I sit with myself, all lonesome, before deciding to begin my day. But just before I can dress myself, I hear a commotion from outside my window. I gasp when I see that there had been a buck who wandered inside the stronghold, running around in panic.

I wrap myself with a shawl before opening my window, watching how my husband and his men were trying to scare the deer towards the gate. Soon enough, my jaw drops at the sight of the horrid thing resting upon Cregan's shoulders as he maneuvered around the large creature.

Thankfully, it did not take the deer long to find the exit of Winterfell. The men share relieved sighs and laughter amongst themselves, as did I.

"My lord!"

Cregan, who was now calming down one of the spooked horses, does not hear me.

"My lord!" I call louder, gaining the attention of someone else.

Cregan is pat on the back. A man points skyward. He looks over his shoulder, face brightening at the sight of me. "Lady Stark," Cregan smiles, offering me a nod, "did we wake you?"

I shake my head, "what are you wearing?"

He turns to me and adjusts his lopsided cloak. The thing was hardly even worthy to be called one with how one hem barely met the man's calf and how one shoulder was far fuller than the other. He calls out proudly, "the work of my wife's hands!"

My face contorts, "it is horrid! Remove it at once."

Cregan pulls his head back, "I shall do no such thing."

"I bought you-"

"But I enjoy this," he lifts an arm to flaunt the terrible craftsmanship, "it keeps me warm and it suits me well."

"It does not!"

Cregan furrows his brows in challenge, "does it take away from my handsomeness, wife?"

I press my lips into a line.

The men around him chortle or snigger. Even mine own lips cannot help the chuckle that spills out. And though he was far, I could tell Cregan was awfully pleased with himself.

"If you wish to rid me of this, then you must do so yourself," he strokes the horse's snout, "but know you are challenging the Warden of the North as you do."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "it is the work of my hands, Lord Stark."

"Which is why you must not rid me of it, my Lady Stark."

We stare at each other for a moment. Cregan's lips curl into a lopsided grin that matches his cloak. I sigh and shake my head once more, "we will speak of this later."

He nods, "as you wish, my love."

I clear my throat and close the window, ignoring the way my belly tumbled at the sound of his pet name.

[my-castles-crumbling]

minerva mcgonagall - jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 425

Minerva McGonagall prided herself on knowing many things that she wasn’t supposed to. For example, she only took a few seconds to realize that Hannah King had cheated on her third year Transfiguration final. She only had to look for a moment before she knew that Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier were trying to sneak dungbombs back from Hogsmeade last weekend. She knew for a fact two Ravenclaw sixth years were always scheduled to do prefects’ rounds together because they were dating, and she also was very well aware that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were both pathetically pining after each other. In fact, she and Poppy had bets placed on who would share their feelings first, and when it would happen.

So it was rare that she was surprised. Especially like this.

She had been walking along a dark corridor late at night– past curfew, mind– when she’d heard the telltale sounds of two students in the throes of…er…passion. And, a bit grumpy, she chose to stop and bang on the door. “Let’s go!” she’d yelled firmly, rolling her eyes even as her own memories of doing exactly the same thing flooded through her brain. “It’s well past bedtime!”

But her annoyance and sentimentality had quickly disappeared when, a moment later, the door had opened to reveal two very red and embarrassed-looking boys that she would have recognized anywhere.

“Shit!” she gasped, forgetting her normally closed-off demeanor as she took in the full scene and the meaning behind it. “Potter? Black?”

Because there, in front of her, were James Potter and Regulus Black, both looking distinctly disheveled, ties askew, hair ruffled, lips red and kiss-bitten. Regulus had the good sense to look mortified but James broke into a cheeky grin.

“Professor!” he said in a chiding tone, “did you just swear?”

But Minerva was still so shocked she couldn’t even properly reprimand him. “I…” she blinked, considering. She stared at the unlikely pair again and thought about both boys’ circumstances, both at home and in the castle. Perhaps this was a secret that should stay a secret. “Go to bed. Now. Before I change my mind,” she ordered, trying to keep a stern face as James and Regulus both broke into disbelieving smiles.

“I-” James started to say, but Minerva was quite done with the entire thing.

“Now!” she repeated, voice louder.

Instantly, both boys ran off, leaving her to stand there, reeling. But she didn’t stay long. Soon, she was walking again with purpose towards the Hospital Wing. Poppy had to hear this.

[annaswrites00]

Not So Private

OP81 x gf!reader

(1.5k)

Summary - You and Oscar are hard launched.. and not happy about it… warning - none

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡

It was supposed to be a low-key weekend.

They hadn’t made a big deal about her being there—no paddock pictures, no holding hands in front of cameras. Oscar kept things quiet, like he always did. Like they both agreed was best. She stayed in the background, tucked under hats and sunglasses, watching the chaos of the paddock unfold from the safety of hospitality lounges and quiet trackside corners.

It wasn’t hiding. Not really. It was just… privacy.

And then Friday night happened.

They were back at the hotel by nine, curled up on the couch in his room. Room service trays were balanced on the coffee table, Oscar was flipping channels aimlessly. She was scrolling.

And then she froze.

He noticed first in her body—how still she’d gone, her phone suddenly tight in her grip. Her thumb hovered over the screen. Lips parted slightly, but no words came.

“What is it?” he asked gently, nudging her ankle with his foot.

She didn’t answer right away.

“Oscar…”

Her voice was quiet. Small. She turned the phone toward him.

There it was—plastered in pixels across a gossip account’s Instagram story: a blurry photo from earlier that day, taken from across the paddock fence. Him. Her. Laughing. His hand on her back. His face buried in her neck.

The caption read:

“Looks like Oscar Piastri isn’t so single after all…”

Spotted with a mystery girl in Monza—sources say she’s been staying with him all weekend. Let the games begin.

And then a carousel of close-up shots. Cropped, zoomed. Her side profile. His hand brushing hers. Her hands on his shoulders.

And underneath, the comments:

“She’s just another influencer type.”

“Oscar’s really dating her?”

“He could do better.”

“Honestly, she doesn’t suit him.”

“Mid.”

And then the tags started flooding in. Her phone buzzed again and again, notifications lighting up like a firework finale. People had found her account—even though it was private, even though she hadn’t posted anything in weeks.

The tagged photos weren’t kind. Screenshots, reposts of the gossip story, TikTok edits with her face blurred and circled. The captions were worse:

“Oscar Piastri’s mysterious girlfriend?”

“Who even is this?”

“He could pull anyone, and he chose her?”

She turned her phone off.

Oscar had gone quiet beside her. Not the panicked kind of quiet, not even angry—just still. His brows furrowed as he looked at the screen like he could burn the whole thing down with just his gaze.

She sank back into the couch cushion, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I knew it would happen eventually,” she whispered. “But it still sucks.”

Oscar placed the remote down, gently. Then reached for her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know. Still.”

She gave a shaky breath, trying to laugh it off. “They didn’t even pick a flattering photo. Like, if I’m gonna get dragged, at least let me look good.”

But the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired. A little hurt. Maybe more than a little.

“I don’t want this to be a thing,” she murmured. “I liked it better when it was just… ours. Quiet. Safe.”

Oscar moved closer, his voice low. “It still is. What we have—that hasn’t changed.”

She nodded. “I know.”

But it felt different now. She could already feel it sinking into her bones—the fact that strangers had opinions now. That their relationship had become public property in the space of an hour. That people had dissected her like a stranger’s outfit on a red carpet, judged her face, her vibe, her worth… all based on a few stolen photos.

She swallowed hard. “It’s weird, you know? I didn’t think I’d care. I thought I was strong enough to handle it. But now it’s happening, and it’s just—heavy.”

Oscar reached for her again, this time pulling her into him so she was sitting between his legs, back pressed to his chest. His arms wrapped around her, holding her steady like she might float off if he let go.

“They don’t know you,” he said into her hair. “Not the way I do.”

She closed her eyes. “Still feels personal.”

“I know. It always does.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. The TV played some old Italian crime drama in the background, voices overlapping with subtitles neither of them bothered to read. The room felt quieter than it was.

“I hate this part,” he said quietly. “Not being with you. Just… the way people talk. The way it’s already gotten to you.”

She didn’t say anything, but her fingers tightened slightly in his.

“I never wanted this to hurt you,” he went on, his voice low but firm. “I never wanted you to feel less-than, or second-guess yourself because of me. Because of all of this. You’re not something to hide. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if I ever make you feel like you’re not enough, or like you have to shrink around all this noise—I swear, that’s the opposite of what I want.”

“I want you here. Just as you are. Nothing about this means anything if you’re hurting in it.”

“I don’t want to hide either. I just want to feel safe—with you.”

Eventually, she spoke again. “Am I gonna mess this up for you?”

Oscar’s heart dropped. “What?”

“Just… people already saying stuff. About how I’m not right for you. Or that I’m ruining your image. I don’t want to be something people use against you.”

Oscar turned her gently, so she was facing him. His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing just under her eyes.

“Look at me.”

She did.

“You will never be a liability to me. Ever.”

Her eyes welled up again, but she blinked it back.

He kissed her forehead, soft and slow. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t even have to be liked. You just have to be you.”

“But what if that’s not enough?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “It’s more than enough. I wouldn’t want any of this—any of the travel, the chaos, the wins—if you weren’t in it with me.”

She let out a small breath. One of those fragile ones that comes right before you let your guard down again. She leaned into his touch, her head tucked beneath his chin.

He held her there.

“You wanna disappear for a bit?” he asked. “We could go somewhere quiet tomorrow after qualifying. Get away from the paddock. Just us.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

A faint smile curved her lips. “You always know what to offer.”

“Because I know you,” he said softly. “The real you. Not the one in their comments.”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡

Thanks for reading!!!

🧸ྀི 🧸ྀི 🧸ྀི

[owls0ma]

dark cacao is one of the most mischaracterized characters in cookie run and I don't see anybody talking about it

not a lot of you know this but dark cacao is my favourite character. he shares a spot with burning spice (begrudgingly, he HATES his insane ass)

and I look at people's different interpretations of him and I think they're cool! sometimes I'll see things they do and I'll use it as inspiration for my interpretation of him

but one headcanon of his that I despise with all my being is dark cacao having anger issues because it's so painfully out of character for him

he’s a serious character. he takes things seriously because he's a warrior, and he has to always have his guard up because he's constantly fighting the licorice sea. he’s also stubborn and strict, and he doesn't take bullshit from anyone. he's honestly probably one of the more patient characters in the game from what he's had to put up with in his life.

not a single one of those things makes him angry. he's just serious

sure, you could use the council scene and his fight with dark choco against me but here’s something i’ve noticed; the only time I’ve ever actually seen dark cacao get incredibly angry like that is when someone hits him in a sore spot. I'll start with the council scene

iirc it was just revealed that white lily cookie, one of his closest friends and allies, who was presumed dead at that point to everyone (except for pure vanilla) was revealed to be dark enchantress cookie, the cookie that started the dark flour war, killed his subjects, completely destroyed the golden cheese kingdom and the vanilla kingdom, and almost killed him, the other ancients, actually killed pure vanilla and several other cookies in the process. and he learned ALL OF THIS from a complete stranger and not from pure vanilla, who knew but chose not to say anything.

mind you, when he arrived in the vanilla kingdom, this had been the first time he had actually seen the place, as well as hollyberry and pure vanilla, since the dark flour war. I’m pretty sure anybody would get emotional after reuniting with old friends who you haven’t seen in a while (especially ones you thought were DEAD). Keeping in mind the fact that he was probably still processing the fact that pure Vanilla and hollyberry were both alive, and then after that getting hit with the fact that one of your other closest friends was revealed to be the cookie that almost killed you and your friends, is a lot of emotions, both positive and negative, to process in only a few days. all of this combined with immediately afterwards being compared to said cookie after everything she had done, COMPLETELY unprovoked, is what set dark cacao off

let's also not forget he had just gotten done dealing with affogato, one of his closest and most trusted denizens trying to kill him and steal his kingdom as well as the cookies of darkness trying to steal his soul jam

clotted cream compares dark cacao to dark enchantress because he's unwilling to share his soul jam. to the person who just dealt with someone attempting to steal his soul jam, on top of everything I mentioned before, it's no wonder he snapped

even pure vanilla, who agreed with clotted cream in that the ancients should share their soul jam told him afterwards he went too far 😭😭

now onto his fight with dark choco in episode 14

I’m pretty sure at this point it’s been established what happened between dark cacao and dark choco, so we can all assume that the topic of dark Choco is a sore spot for dark cacao. which, fair enough, his own son tried to KILL HIM

seeing dark choco again after so long, especially under the circumstances that he appeared in the dark cacao kingdom, would result in a mixed bag of emotions. When dark cacao first saw dark choco again, he seemed pretty surprised to see him. he wasn’t immediately angry, and that was most likely because deep down he really missed dark choco, and he wanted him to come back, but he wanted him to do it on his own, hence why he didn’t go looking for him directly (which has been directly stated by dark cacao to hollyberry in their kingdom interaction). and after that, dark cacao learns of affogato's betrayal, and then gets pushed off the great wall.

now, this is the second time dark choco has tried to kill dark cacao. the first time was all those years ago when dark choco was much younger, and he hadn't seen him since that point

so no wonder his reaction is to get angry because. I dunno, if I was a father and my son tried to kill me twice, I'd be pretty pissed too.

their later interaction when they fight after dark cacao had gotten his sword out of the tomb of blades is where dark cacao says "It is my life's greatest regret to have called you my son" to dark choco. he says it out of a place of hurt and anger because iirc dark choco had just threatened to lay waste to the citadel with dark enchantress' armies (whom he mentions by name, and we all know by now that she's a sore subject for him)

we know he didn't truly mean this when he says his big speech to dark choco after their fight concludes, in which he apologises to dark choco for how he was raised

he got mad and said things he didn't mean because of his complicated relationship with his son, not because he has anger issues

it genuinely upsets me to see people take this amazingly written character and just dumb him down to "grumpy peepaw with anger issues" because he isn't that, he's so much more than the fandom portrays him as and it upsets me that nobody sees that

anyways sorry for the yapping this subject means a lot to me lol

[ceesimz]

the love you have is better spent in some other place

knowing love and accepting love are two different things.

despite the menacing title+summary, it's not all doom and gloom :)

The funny thing about Alexia Putellas is that she's the version of herself she always imagined to be when she was younger. Yet, at the same time, she's nothing like she thought she would be. 

She's as good at football as she knew she could be. All the titles one could want, she has them under her belt. There are all kinds of awards scattered around her apartment, as well as her family home in the care of her mother. Stadiums chant her name in the same way she witnessed at Camp Nou with her father's hand in hers as a young girl. The combination of her name and number is spotted on the back of nearly every Barcelona shirt around the world, treasured near and dear to millions of hearts in the same way she cherished her Xavi shirt. 

Her wildest dreams had come true when it came to her career. But in her personal life, things weren't quite the same. 

Alexia had known from a younger age than most that she would end up marrying a woman rather than a man. That she would be the best spouse she could possibly be for her own wife. And when that opportunity seemed to arise, having a partner to love who is at her side throughout everything, it came at the most inconvenient time for her.

She acknowledged that, but failed to be the greatest version of herself for the woman of her dreams. Just as she was back from her injury, after winning the most notorious trophy of them all with her country and feeling like the world was hers, it all came falling down. The timing of it was exceptionally awful.

Football wasn't quite the same for her. Something was off. Her knee felt heavy, and it was evident in the way she played. Every game, it got worse and worse. With that came the anxiety, the doubt, the shame that she wasn't who she once was. And maybe she never would be that version of herself again.

That's when you came in. A saving grace, almost. Just one day in November weeks before her arthroscopy, the last attempt to recover and reinstate her name into the sport she loved, you and all you were walked in and flicked the lights in her desolate heart back on. You were a reminder of who she could be, you gave her a reason to change her ways, and if she never returned to football again, at least you never knew that part of her. She could take the fresh opportunity with you and grow into it, without having to face the embarrassment of no longer being the dominant figure of European football.

But she couldn't change her ways. Despite the fact that she didn't have to shy away from who she was, despite the fact she recovered and the surgery was as successful as it could be, she couldn't change her ways.

If Alexia had known about the deep-rooted problems she had surrounding love, she wouldn’t have put you through those first few months of your relationship. That time of her life was a dark one, where she hated the world just as much as herself, until you came along. Like the light at the end of the tunnel, she headed towards it, but with each step she took, the light never got any closer. It stretched on, slipping between her fingertips like water. The affection you gave her was there, but she never quite accepted it for herself. And it ate her up inside, gave her even more reason to loathe what her life had become.

In no way was it your fault, she knew from the moment she left you the night of your first date that there was so much wrong with her. Instead of working on those things, she chose to be selfish. She wanted you, despite the fact she didn’t want herself, and sure, maybe it did work out in the long run. But if time travel became a thing, it wouldn’t take her longer than a second to decide to go back and change her whole approach to falling in love with you. For her, that period of time was tarnished by her internal torment, when she should have given in to the desire to fall into your arms with no second thought rather than ruminate on all the wrong-doings she had been through.

Something had to change, she had to change, to ensure that didn't happen. She just didn't know how. How does one fix something that's been broken for years? Where does she even start?

Love was something everybody chased, whether that be platonically or romantically, and it was a bizarre concept, really. Was it a universal thing, or just something that occurred in this world only? What happened on the other planets? If there is life out there, what do they chase? Love, or something else?

Alexia began to think it was the latter, and that there was something so deeply wrong with her for her to reject such a beautiful idea when it was all anybody longed for. Almost as if her problems were alien to everyone else, because even her friends and family looked at her in utter confusion when she first stated she didn’t intend to go on a second date with you. Underneath the facade, there was nothing she wanted more than to chase the love you had to offer. She needed it, like food, like water, like oxygen. Why couldn’t she accept it for herself? It was something she wasn’t able to understand, and it felt unnatural to reach out and tell you how much she enjoyed the evening with you when her skin crawled at the hands of the devil on her shoulder, spewing all kinds of hate and insecurities in her ear.

She did it anyway, and it had worked itself out eventually. That’s how she had got here, months later, laying on her sofa with your arms around her and her head on your chest, finally at a place where she could accept your love with no second thoughts. However, the guilt still ripped through her whilst you were none the wiser (or so she thought), and she wanted that to change. That filled her with fear, approaching a topic she could barely stomach thinking about, but you had stuck around all this time and if it scared you away now, she was the only one to blame that she couldn’t have relished in your love longer.

—

The first time that you noticed something might be amiss with Alexia was after the third date. You’d known each other for a number of weeks now, and spoke near enough everyday. It was hard for the footballer to find time in her schedule to fully dedicate her time to you, which is how you ended up texting each other almost all day every day. But on the fourth date, when she joined you for breakfast one morning, she walked in like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

Each time you had seen her, there was a look in her eye that drew the image of a dark cloud following her wherever she went, but as soon as she settled into your company, it went away. She smiled, she laughed, her eyes creased with unfiltered joy when she was with you. Yet, when it was time for you to go your separate ways, that cloud loomed again. It weighed so heavily upon her, it was almost as if you could feel it too. Still, that didn’t deter you from falling in love with her.

There was something different about her though, on that fourth date. It was hard for you to not feel a little anxious when she sat down and that cloud didn't drift away like it usually did. The thought consumed you; maybe she was growing tired of you, since you didn't seem to have the same effect on her anymore. As it turned out, that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Just as you were about to leave for work, she reached out to take your hand as you bid each other goodbye outside of the café, and she leaned down to kiss you. It wasn’t the first kiss you had shared, but for some reason it felt like the last. There were too many emotions tied into it, and instead of getting that fluttery, lovesick feeling you got when you kissed her, all you felt was dread. 

However, before you could ruminate on that thought, she saved you the anguish and pushed through the mental roadblock that tried to stop her from being honest, and told you what was on her mind. She went against her instinct and opened up, for your sake. 

“I am having surgery after Christmas. It’ll be some time before I can go on a date like this with you again and I don’t expect you to wait for me. So… I am giving you an out.”

The look in her eyes had darkened, a facade built to temporarily shield her from the pain of hearing you agree and watching as you walk down the street, out of her life. Because how could you be with someone that was putting their weakness on show? How could you want to stay with someone that’s admitting there is something wrong with them? It went deeper than just a medical procedure, this surgery, it ran so much deeper and Alexia knew that you understood that, it didn't take a genius to piece the puzzle together of what was weighing her down. That’s why she was giving you an out.

You didn’t want an out. You wanted to stay. And you would go to the ends of the earth and back to make sure Alexia knew that.

“No. I don’t want an out. I want you to let me in, to let me stay.” You told her definitively, taking a step closer and looking up at her with concern etched all over your face. If the way she leaned into the hand that rested on her cheek after that was anything to go by, you knew she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her emotions at bay. “I don’t want to go. I want you, Alexia, and all that comes with having you. And most of all, I want you to believe me when I say that.”

Everything in her body told Alexia to refute that, to shake her head and to walk away for you. She knew she couldn’t be the partner she wanted to be, with all that came with having surgery, and she adored you too much to sit there and watch you shrink into yourself as a result of her own fatalistic miserableness.

However, she went against her instincts once more, and simply nodded once as her lower lip quivered. That gave her away; her whole demeanour cracked then, as you wrapped her up in your arms and hugged her tightly. It didn’t last long, Alexia wouldn’t allow that for herself, but it was enough for you. You’d take it for now.

Even despite the confirmation from you, Alexia didn’t believe you would stay. That wasn’t a problem because of you, it was because of her. The blonde thought the world of you, but not for herself. She had been labelled the best in the world countless times, but the events of the past eighteen months had caused her to strip herself of that title. In her mind, she wasn't worthy of your time and care, you deserved better than the grumpy version of her that she would be until she heard back about her surgery results.

And to no one’s surprise, it was her insecurities that underestimated you. Because you showed up the day after her surgery with open arms and love in your heart.

Alba had somehow gotten your number whilst Alexia was in the operating room, and had formed a plan with you. The younger Putellas had heard about you very briefly from her sister over the last weeks, and though she couldn’t pull more information from her sister no matter how hard she tried, it was unfortunately a gene in the Putellas-Segura family that everyone held their true feelings in their eyes. It just didn't help that Alexia wore her heart on her sleeve too. 

Alba thought of herself as somewhat of a professional when it came to reading Alexia, and she could see it in Alexia’s eyes how much she adored you. That point was further backed up by how Alexia, under the influence of some strong pain medication, spoke about you so lovingly as tears trailed down her cheeks. She spoke quietly, because even when she wasn’t sober, her subconscious knew what a sensitive topic it was for her, despite how the doubtful voices had been silenced. 

And it was then that Alba had snuck out of the hospital room and called you, forming a plan for you to visit Alexia and inject some light back into her life as she recovered. It would be some time before the results of her arthroscopy were clear, and Alexia was anything but patient especially when it came to football. Everyone close to her knew she would be miserable, stuck at home on the couch or in bed, and there was hope that you would cheer her up.

You did. Though it took some time to extract that truth from her, you did cheer her up from the moment you walked in. Alba greeted you when you first arrived, speaking in a hushed voice for a few moments outside the front door to update you and ask how you were, before she left the two of you alone.

“Hey Ale.” You smiled, slowly making your way over to where she was sat up on the sofa with her leg resting and bandaged.

“What are you doing here?” Alexia asked in a slight grumble, though that same dreamy look in her eyes made an appearance for just a second. You caught it and instantly felt reassured by that one small notion, a little more confident.

“I thought I would come and surprise you. Cheer you up a little bit.” You told her, sitting down beside her but being mindful of leaving a space so as to not overload her.

“But it is Christmas. You should be with your family.” You just shook your head at that. 

“The woman I'm falling in love with just had surgery. I wanted to come and check on her.” A glimpse of a smile appeared then as you shuffled closer and gently took one of her hands. 

“Falling in love, huh?” Alexia teased after a quiet moment with a smirk, dropping your joined hands into your lap and squeezing yours.

“You're not? I think you would be leading me on then.” You grinned shyly, giggling as she rolled her eyes and tutted.

“I… I am. You do not need to worry about that.”

You could live off of that admission forever. The little moments like that, the small gestures, you quickly learnt that they were how she showed her adoration. That was her being vulnerable, as much as she could, and you could handle that then. When some might have been deterred by it, you gave her a chance. You had a near infinite amount of patience for this woman, because she deserved the world and more. Your goal was to help her understand that. 

She had her reasons for having her walls so high, for struggling to let people in, but you had gotten this far already and you'd be foolish to give up on her.

During that day, you were able to identify something about Alexia. And as the hours went on, it only became clearer and clearer. Even though she was the one hurting, mentally and physically, she would only have it so that she was the one holding you. If you tried to reverse the positions, she didn't let it happen. She would wordlessly reject the idea and carefully move you back to how you were, with no explanation. No matter how many times you tried, she just didn't let it happen.

Even when you tried to make dinner for her, she urged you to sit back down as she tried getting up and cooking instead. That was your final straw. You had patience, sure, but you weren't perfect.

“Alexia, let me take care of you, okay? Let me help, let me be there for you. I'm not above begging, so just let me be a good partner, please?” You sighed in exasperation. A flash of hurt consumed her eyes, but like always, she disguised it in an instant. But it struck your heart like a dagger, knowing you had accidentally targeted her most insecure spot. You couldn't tell if she realised it came from a place of love or not.

“Sorry. I'm sorry.” The blonde muttered under her breath before clearing her throat, her eyes dropped to her hands on her lap. 

Exactly what you were trying to stop, you had made worse.

“Ale.” You murmured softly, placing both hands on her face to get her to look at you. Yet, she still found a way to keep her eyes averted. “Ale, look at me.”

“Do not apologise. You don’t need to.” One of her hands came up to rest on your forearm as her voice cracked and trembled. She sounded so dejected, it tore your heart in two. “I am difficult, I know that. So please… do not apologise. I do not deserve it.”

“What?” You whispered uncertainly, taking a moment to process what she had said. When it clicked, you frowned as you stroked your thumbs over the lines of her cheekbones. “Why would you say that?”

“The way I am, it… it is making you doubt what a good partner you are. But you’re not good, you’re the best I could ask for. And I am pushing you away.” Alexia fretted so quietly her words were almost intelligible. Key word almost.

“No, you are not pushing me away. I am right here, aren’t I? I told you, I’m here to stay.” You paused for a second, a silent moment that caused Alexia’s anxiety to spike. Your next words didn’t exactly help either. “I’m going to ask you a question, okay? Let me ask you something.”

“Okay.” Alexia nodded dutifully, hoping you didn’t see the nervous gulp that followed.

“I want to be your girlfriend. Will you let me be your girlfriend?” 

You gazed at her, eyes full of hope that this would be the moment she let you in. It wouldn't be smooth-sailing from here, you were more than aware of that, but this could be the start of something that would improve both your lives for the better. The start of a life together that could make you better people. 

“Sí. Sí, quiero que seas mi novia. I would love nothing more.” Her reaction was better than you could have wished for.

In an instant, she melted into you; her forehead dropped against yours and tension you didn't even know was there in the first place left her shoulders. You offered your arms out and she leaned forward into you with no second thought. You hoped that was a sign of things to come.

As you expected, though, it wasn’t always that simple. Some days, she was still distant. Not in her affection or attitude, it was just that she was stuck in her own mind more often than you had expected.. Being able to spend more time with her as her girlfriend meant you came to spot the signs, and despite the fact that you didn’t yet live together, things were even more noticeable than before.

Like, for example, when she was especially struggling, but she tried with all her might to hide it. Sometimes, when she was going through a tough week, you could see in her eyes of course the turmoil that dragged her down more everyday. It wasn’t all doom and gloom, there were countless occasions where she was smiling up into her eyes and the two of you were happy together, but for the footballer, joy wasn’t a permanent thing. It wasn’t her average mood. 

Her physical fitness could take her up the highest mountains, but over the years her mental stamina had been stamped on, it had reached its limits, and it couldn't quite break out of the confines of her insecurities. They had no boundaries, they showed up when they wanted and silently tore through her. Those eyes you adored, more often than not, were weighed down by burdens that you probably didn’t even know half the truth about. 

There was one evening, a while after her surgery when she was flying through rehab, that everything reached its peak for her. You decided to surprise her by being at her flat when she got home one day that week – what you were met with was far worse than you could have predicted. 

Your excitement at the sound of the door opening and shutting was swiftly replaced by overwhelming concern at the sound of sniffles that followed. You left the kitchen where you had just ordered Alexia’s favourite takeaway and headed in the direction of your girlfriend’s footsteps that went straight towards the bedroom. Seemingly she hadn't heard you, a curiosity instantly proven true by the sounds of choked cries coming from the figure that was slumped over, her fists leaning on the bed as her chin was to her chest whilst she cried.

Not for a second did you hesitate rushing over, coming to stand by her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She startled, unsurprisingly, and moved to hastily wipe the tears away in an attempt to mask the emotions coursing through her nervous system at that moment in time. It was too late, she knew that, but it didn’t stop her.

“Q-qué haces aquí?” Alexia asked, her voice stuttering and shaking as she spoke. Your arm stayed around her, your other hand wiping her tears with a tenderness too soft for her, she thought. “No, por favor.”

“Ale, talk to me. What’s the matter? Please let me in, please don’t shut me out when you’re like this.” The pleas fell from your mouth before you could properly think of what you were saying. It wasn’t the best thing to say, adding guilt to the list of things she was struggling with wasn’t your smartest idea.

“I can’t do this, amor.” 

The statement shocked you, the ease of which it left her mouth was unusual. But the shock wore off quick, making way for the worry that sprung to your mind because that short sentence was enough to signify just how terribly she was feeling.

Her voice was uncomfortably rough as she spoke too, despite her only saying five words, you could tell that she had spent the drive home forcing back her cries. It takes a lot of energy to break down and release everything in sharp sobs, but it takes even more to hold back all that emotion. Forcing back tears hurt, and it wasn’t a surprise that her voice was hoarse and hardly there at all. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You weren’t sure if something specific had happened that day or if this was a build-up of everything, but no matter what it was, you urged her into a tight hug, ensuring she was engulfed in the love you held for her. “You will be okay, Ale, I promise.” 

It took some time for her to calm down enough to talk, but whilst she did, you moved the pair of you onto the bed so you could hold her properly. She didn’t even put up a fight when you urged her to lay on top of you, your arms wrapped securely around her back as she hid her face in your neck. All she did was cry out the mass of emotions that were consuming her, and you just prayed that being there for her as she did so was enough to ease it, even if it was only a miniscule amount. 

Feeling concerned for her wasn’t a new experience for you – feeling downright devastated and grief-stricken for the woman sobbing in your arms was new. Never before had you seen her like this, and it scared you to death. All the possibilities that could be making her feel like this seemed insurmountable, like they were too big a challenge to tackle.

That didn’t matter to you. You would try for her, always.

“Do you feel like you could try to talk to me? Getting some of it off your chest might help.” You said softly, one of your hands slipping under her shirt to trail your fingertips up and down her back, something you knew soothed her. She gave a minute nod, which you felt more than you saw, and it gave you a brief feeling of relief. “Okay. In your own time, Ale.”

A few quiet minutes passed by, the footballer on top of you allowing herself some time to relish in the infrequent position she found herself in. She loved it. And it only gave the insecure voice in her head more ammunition to use against her; why can’t she allow her girlfriend to do this? She can never bring herself to accept it, but the day’s exertion had battered her defiance and left a hollow shell of her persona. If she looked in a mirror, she would probably be unrecognisable to herself. 

Sometimes, in her weakest moments, she thought you were better off without her. Better off not being dragged down by her miserable nature. You, the definition of beauty and light, with someone that exudes negativity and weakness. Someone that is the embodiment of imperfection with a person that is priceless. It didn’t make sense to her still, she wasn't sure it ever would.

“Every… everything is just so hard.” She spoke, letting out a shaky breath into the skin of your neck. You hummed sympathetically, giving her the space to elaborate whilst acknowledging what she had said. “Rehab is so tiring and I do not know why. I am not being given the space I need by the team to recover, they still expect so much from me and there is so much pressure. People online, the media and the fans, are talking about me a lot more than usual, which I do not understand because I am not even on the pitch. Some things that are being said are bad. And… I think I am not what you need, or deserve.”

Her face stayed hidden in your neck whilst she spoke, and you let her do that. Being vulnerable and open like that was hard, you didn’t underestimate that, and you would take it in any form because it was progress. You weren’t happy with what she had said because it broke your heart, but it was the first step of her opening herself up to help.

“Alexia, it is okay to feel overwhelmed. That sounds a lot like what you are feeling right now.” You started, your hand still slowly trailing up and down her back. “I’m so glad you told me, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this. There’s things that can be put in place to help you.”

You plant the seed, subtly, that she can get help. But really, all you can focus on is the fact they are all things you can help with. With the majority of her admission, they are things that can be changed to lessen the load of her newfound daily life after her second surgery. The last part, you know you can help with indefinitely. It won’t be quick, nor will it be easy, but reminding her of how much you value her is something you planned to do for the rest of your life anyway. Perhaps you just had to do it a bit more than you initially thought.

“You can talk to the team, tell them exactly what you need. They’re sensible, you know that, they’ll do whatever you need them to do. You just need to have the bravery to ask for help, which is a difficult step in itself, but I know you can do it. You’ve told me what’s on your mind and that’s something I’m not taking for granted because I understand it doesn’t come easy to you, and for that I’m so proud of you. So proud. And if you want me to help you come up with a plan of what you need or what you will say to the club, I can help you with that.” 

“You will help me?” She murmured, lifting her head up to look down at you with red, tired eyes and tear streaks down her cheeks. You smiled up at her and nodded, unwinding an arm from around her to brush the damp tracks away.

“With anything. Anything at all, I promise.” You told her, hoping the mixture of your words and the sincerity in your voice conveyed all that you wanted her to understand. “I also think you would benefit from a break from social media and most things online. Why don’t you ask someone on your team to run your accounts for you for a little while? Or ask your agent to hire someone to do that? I think it will be good to step away from that so you can focus on the important things.”

“I have thought about it before.” Alexia revealed a moment later. “I will do that. I should have done it a long time ago. I am thinking about going to see the psychologist for some… help. I will book a session with her tomorrow.”

She seemed to be doing better than she was when you first walked in on her. Her voice wasn’t so rough, it no longer sounded like it was taking every ounce of energy to get her words out, and her breathing was a lot more even than it was a few minutes beforehand. Accepting help didn’t seem so terrifying when the words were coming out of your mouth.

Where before, she was deterred by the idea of reaching out, too focused on her shame to find a way out of her turmoil, now she didn’t feel so scared by it. For so long, the world seemed like a tunnel with no end, but now there’s a crack, however small, giving her a glimpse of what life she could live without being restricted by her burdens. The idea that help is available felt foreign to her, and though she might still be uncertain about the path that had been offered to her, in your arms comforted by the thought of having someone to guide her down it, she found that she could breathe a little easier. There’s a sense of possibility, of no longer having to walk alone.

Hope was beginning to brew inside of her, and she felt compelled to reach out and grasp it with both hands. There was a quiet flicker of warmth that took the place of the cold numbness that once lived on inside her. Neither of you had all the answers in that moment, change doesn’t happen overnight and you both know that, and because of that there is a delicate balance of fear and relief that settled between you. 

It’s the first time since Alexia can remember that she felt like maybe things could change for the better.

“Good. Both those things will be so good for you. I’m so proud of you.” You said, turning to kiss her forehead. 

“It’s not up to you to decide what I need or deserve. I do need you, and I do deserve you. You’re the only one I could ever want, now that I’ve met you I know I could never be with anyone else again. You are struggling, and that’s okay. I’ll be here at your lowest, I’ll be here at your highest, and I know you would do the same for me. You know I love you, right?” 

At your declaration, especially the last part which she had heard a few times now, her heart clenched as she squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to sob again, but out of pure happiness, because regardless of how many times you would say it to her over your lives, it would still be the most important statement to her. Hearing it at that very moment was so important.

“I do. I really do, amor. I just… sometimes I do not understand why.”

You pursed your lips at her response, wondering why the world had to treat her so poorly that her self-worth had been reduced to something so unimportant to her. You know for a fact there’s probably millions of people out there that idolise her, think of her as a hero, the perfect role model, but you also know that the insecurities she had weren’t on Alexia Putellas’ behalf. They were on Ale’s behalf. There were two versions of her, and the powerful woman that adorned the armband day-in and day-out for the club she’s committed her life to wasn’t the one combatting all these issues. It was just Ale, your girlfriend, her mother’s daughter, her sister’s older sibling, her aunt and uncle's niece, the ever-reliant and trustworthy companion of her friends. 

Alexia knew that, and you did too. You couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult that must be to juggle for Alexia, leading two extraordinarily different lives in one lifetime. You hope, with the right help, she can learn to allow them to co-exist together and not be so far away from each other. She had expressed similar thoughts to you before, how difficult she finds it switching between the two everyday, though you knew she probably hadn’t even scratched the surface about how much it affected her. 

You were content with not being fully clued in, because there were some things that people preferred to keep private, and for Alexia one of those things was her thoughts. Your mission was to help her deal with those healthily, unlike how she had for the past god knows how long. Whatever worked for her, worked for you.

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m secure in my love for you, and that’s enough. I know you love me too. That’s all we need.” 

After that day, it was as if a switch had been flicked. There was a distinct difference in her, in all aspects of her life, and she seemed truly happy. You had come to understand that you couldn’t wholly fix her, especially not just with words. All you could do was love her, which you would do for as long as she would let you.

So you met her defiance with kindness, her feigned confidence with support, and her insecurities with reassurance. And slowly, you began to see the progress in her. Truthfully, it might be one of the most beautiful things you'd ever had the privilege to witness. Allowing yourself to feel every ounce of your joy made it easier for Alexia to grow and settle into that prospect of living too. 

Not only did the counselling help her mental health, it made her better at communication, understanding, and just about every other thing that you didn’t even think needed improving in the first place. Each day, you adored her more and more. It takes a lot to accept help, but it’s an entirely different thing to wake up every morning and get out of bed, knowing what lies ahead was unexplainably difficult to overcome but facing it head on anyway.

However, the biggest evident difference came when she was cleared to play football again. With each milestone, came a newer, happier version. First it was being substituted on, stepping foot in a game after months of waiting, and straight after, it was her first goal back. The rain couldn’t dampen her spirits that day, nothing could, because thought past-Alexia would be disappointed with how scrappy the goal was, the new version of her was just happy to have a ball at her feet and making a difference for her team. Maybe past-Alexia would be angry with that fact too, at how overjoyed she was with a goal like that, but she didn’t dwell on that for too long. She was trying to change and she was making better progress than she could have dreamed of, she wasn’t going to stop that.

Her hard work was clear to see in the ache in her cheeks from the amount of time she spent smiling, something she didn’t even realise she had missed. Months down the line and she was in the best place mentally than she had been all her life. With that realisation, came the understanding that sometimes things have to fall down before they can be rebuilt again. She had that moment where she broke, in your arms, and since then she had rebuilt her life. The bad goes in hand with the good, and the highs are undoubtedly worth the lows. 

Though, she still wasn’t perfect, no matter how badly that irritated her. Every part of her had improved, apart from the one thing she did it all for. It did happen less often, but she still doubted her capabilities as a girlfriend. She still worried she wasn’t good enough for you. The cloudy days of anxiety were nowhere near as frequent as they used to be, but they didn’t magically stop. That was still something she had to come to terms with.

—

A particularly harsh bout of anxiety hit one day, something that filled her unease because she thought these kinds of days weren’t supposed to happen anymore. Yet, here she was, lay in your arms as the toxic cycle of doubt circled endlessly in her mind. She tried, with all her might, to shove the thoughts to the side, to rebuke them and not let them ruin her evening, but they came thick and fast and there was simply no stopping them. 

Something her psychologist had told her was that sometimes she just has to sit and let those feelings be. Thinking about how much she loathed them wouldn’t help, that would probably just make them worse. And taking the doubts and fuelling them by ruminating wouldn’t help either. But sitting there and letting them consume her as she did nothing to stop didn’t feel useful. So she let them come, and she took each knot of insecurity and made them bigger.

Nearly every moment of the last few months was tainted by the regret she felt. She really would give anything, she'd sacrifice it all, to go back and show her affection and appreciation more. From the moment she saw you, she knew you were special. She felt like she did a terrible job to show that, to the point where she wondered how she even found herself here right now with you. 

Alexia had never really experienced impostor syndrome before, and she wasn't exactly sure that was the right term for the cloud of anxiety she was experiencing. She didn't doubt her love for you, in fact she was sure she had never loved a human as much as she loved you. It's just that, even after all this time, she still didn't think she deserved to be on the receiving end of such an idyllic thing, especially at your hands.

Her biggest fear, after all this time still, was losing you. Out of all the emotions that she had experienced in the past months, there was one that reigned superior throughout: disappointment.

Disappointment that was aimed entirely at herself. Disappointment that had so many things tied into it, she could hardly keep up. Guilt, shame, embarrassment, when she dumbed it down it all led to that same disappointment she just couldn’t get rid of. 

She knows where she’s gone wrong all this time, she sort of knows why now thanks to her psychologist, but she has no idea how to stop that pattern of thinking, that she doesn’t deserve you. And because of that, a certain feeling of distaste for herself had grown over time, and it sat nestled in the back of her mind. It’s there, always, and it’s not afraid to make itself known. In the most unsuspecting moments, it comes seeping through the cracks of her mind, weaving its way into each and every aspect of her life, whether that be her memories or the present. Another fear of hers was that this disdain wouldn’t ever leave, even with hours spent in counselling and working on herself.

Like now. Even when she’s in your embrace, all she could think about is the guilt she had harboured for so long now, that at this point it felt like a tumour she had ignored for too long, one that had grown so big that it was now impossible to remove without causing more damage than good.

“Ale? You okay?” Your voice brought her back into the room, adding another crack to the fragile glass box Alexia kept her thoughts inside. The blonde felt like that box could shatter again anytime soon, and that would mean all of them could come spilling straight out. And that would be the end of it all, for good this time. Not like the other occasion where you welcomed her with open arms. Surely you would finally recognise you were sick of her when she inevitably falls apart once more.

“Hm? Sí, bien.” She smiled, a tight-lipped one that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. 

You knew what that was a sign of.

“Ale.” You said softly, hoping you didn’t have to fight her for her to admit there was something wrong.

“I’m okay, mi amor. I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I will be back soon.” She rose to her arms, surging forward to leave a kiss to your lips before you could protest. Then, she was gone, rounding the corner of the lounge into the apartment corridor, leaving you confused.

Five minutes passed by and you let her be, giving her her privacy. But then five minutes turned to ten, and ten to fifteen, and you couldn’t hold off any longer. Just as you expected, when you passed the main bathroom, the door was open and the light was off. It was then, when you looked to your left, you saw Alexia through the crack left by the ajar bedroom door, sat on the edge of the bed facing away. Her shoulders were slightly slumped, her elbows were on her knees, and she was looking out of the window across from her. The only positive was that you couldn’t hear sniffling coming from her this time.

The door creaked as you lightly pushed it open, but the blonde didn’t acknowledge it. At that, you stepped in and kneeled on the bed, making your way to sit behind Alexia and wrap your arms around her as your legs fell either side of hers whilst your cheek came to rest in between her shoulders.

Neither of you spoke; you didn’t want to pressure her into speaking just yet, and Alexia was building up the courage to finally get the last plaguing insecurity off her chest. It’s late evening, the sun growing ever-closer to the horizon, and the only light in the room was the orange haze of the sky, softening every feature of your girlfriend’s face with a golden touch. The light added to her vulnerability, acting as a lamp that displayed the most beautiful artwork you could imagine in a gallery. 

For some time, there’s no movement within the room. Alexia doesn’t tear her eyes away from the sunset before her, though the look that’s embedded in the hazel and amber there is distant, lost in a maze of her own mind that she desperately tried to escape from so she could give you the answers you’re hoping for. The only movement you make is the sporadic kisses you dot over her back, as well as the soft, comforting movements of your thumb over her ribs where your hands sit. 

The silence was weighted, though not with awkwardness or impatience, but with understanding – a silent invitation to speak without any pressure or expectations. In the quiet space you've provided, no words are needed, only the steady warmth of your body against hers that offers a subtle, grounding reminder that Alexia is not alone, and she never will be. You would always be there to give that to her.

“I love you.” Alexia broke the silence but not the bubble of serenity, producing a sentence that was far more layered than anyone outside of this room would ever understand.

“I know.” You reminded her, hugging her tighter back against you.

“I wish I could go back and redo it all.” She stated, a heaviness to it that had you smiling sadly.

“Redo what?”

“Our relationship.” The footballer didn’t miss the way you tensed ever so slightly, nor did she miss how you lifted your head up from its place on her back. “I am so happy I met you. I feel so lucky that you love me, that you chose me, even when I have been a mess. I would only change how I acted, because I feel like I have not properly shown you how much I love you. How special you are. I wish you had got the love you deserved rather than the coldness I showed because… I don’t think I have been a very good partner to you.”

Some time ago, you had guessed this was a part of Alexia’s anxiety, and that point had been proven when she admitted a few months back that she felt you deserved better. But you didn’t know that it troubled her to this extent. She believed the doubtful voice in the back of her mind so much that she truly thought she wasn’t worthy enough of this relationship. That killed you, because she had been nothing but perfect, despite her personal struggles, from the moment you met her.

“You were not cold, Alexia.” You started, kissing the back of her neck before continuing. “You were the opposite. You were warm and kind-hearted. You were compassionate and honest. I look back on those days so fondly because of how you made me feel. From the very first date, you allowed me to be myself and that was something that meant so much to me. And since then, you still surprise me all the time with how amazing you are. To put it simply, Ale, I wouldn't be here if you were cold or a bad partner. There is nobody else for me, it's only you and it'll always be you.”

Maybe this was the one inadequacy you could fix with your words. 

“You really think of me like that?” Alexia asked in a sheepish whisper, turning her head slightly to look at you over her shoulder. You smiled brightly, nodded, and shuffled to sit beside her. One hand came up to rest on her cheek as you leaned forward and kissed her, soft and tentative, to convey all you could never find the words to tell her.

“I do think of you like that.” You whispered against her lips, foreheads together as your thumb lightly brushed over her lower lip. “And I hope one day you can look back and not see your flaws, but instead see the woman I fell in love with.”

She nodded because quite frankly she was speechless. And then there were tears filling her eyes that neither of you expected, which had you moving again as you slotted yourself into her lap. Her head fell to your chest, pulling you against her in a tight embrace. Your arms came around her neck, one laying across her shoulders and the other resting on the back of her head. 

Your words slowly began to sunk in, finally, which was a weirdly cathartic feeling for Alexia. She wasn't sure why it was this specific moment that something snapped inside of her, but it did. What was once a topic that consumed her, took over her every thought and switched it with a venomous onslaught of overthinking suddenly started forming into a thing of the past.

All along, Alexia had no idea just how deep your understanding ran about her insecurity with the love she has to offer. She thought you weren't aware of the guilt she felt and the struggles she experienced, but you were. That, and more. She could never repay you for that. All she could do was love you for a lifetime and hope that was enough.

Half a year ago, you were just two people getting to know each other. You liked her and she liked you. You looked into each other’s eyes and saw a future together. Then, you both took that hope, nurtured it, and made a life for yourselves, together. 

To anyone on the outside, this wouldn't seem like such a huge milestone. But to you and Alexia, this was a major turning point, for the better. Something like this wasn't expected when you first met, but that's the thing about love, isn't it? Nothing good comes easy, a part of life that Alexia had come to accept. Because it was so, so worth it in the end.

—

this fic was a little different but i hope it was good. first one that i have posted in the midst of my writing anxiety so i may or may not be terrified of posting this but well it's out now anyway. hope you enjoyed it <3

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

UNCERTAINTY

Chishiya x Pregnant!Reader

Requested: Where Y/N struggles to tell Chishiya about her pregnancy, fearing his reaction since he doesn’t want kids.

Y/N would never have thought that after her experience in Borderlands anything could make her feel that adrenaline again. The accelerated heartbeat and the breath stuck in her throat. She was a responsible adult, at least that's how she considered herself, and she couldn't understand how that could have happened. It wasn't that she was naive; she knew the effectiveness rates and the warnings on the birth control pill boxes: "No contraceptive method is 100% effective." She saw the letters of the message dance, as if mocking her while she read and reread the same line, holding the pregnancy test in her other hand: Positive. She felt her heart drop into her stomach when she thought of him, Chishiya. How was she supposed to tell him?

The next four days after the big discovery, Y/N behaved like a zombie. It felt as if she was living in a parallel reality: she would get out of bed, make breakfast, and go to university. She walked the same streets and retraced her steps to go back home. The shared apartment was always empty when she arrived; her boyfriend had a complicated schedule as a resident at the hospital, and she didn’t mind going to sleep in a cold and empty bed where she would let the tears she had held back during the day flow until she fell asleep. Then she would wake up, the other half of the bed undone, the only proof that her boyfriend had spent the night at home. Then she would have breakfast and go to university. That was until the nausea started. The reality she had been floating through for the past days, behaving like an autonomous being, came crashing down. That fifth day, she skipped class, and then the weekend arrived.

Chishiya had Saturdays and Sundays off, which meant he would be home for those two days. Y/N, therefore, had to make sure she spent as much time outside as possible. She wasn’t ready to face that situation, which was weighing more heavily day by day. It wasn’t difficult. She made sure to leave before he even got out of bed, and when he asked where she was going, she babbled a string of incoherent words, avoiding eye contact as she left through the door, slamming it behind her. She walked through the park until she felt her feet begin to ache, then sat on a bench. The sun’s rays caressed her cold face, and she closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind and absorb the energy she needed to return home. The first thing she noticed when she entered the apartment was the smell of raw fish, which hit her, tensing the muscles in her body and leaving her frozen in the doorway.

“I ordered sushi,” the man said as he opened a plastic container and placed it next to two others on the dining table.

Y/N felt herself pale when she remembered that article that had popped up on her phone after a brief search she did about pregnancy: pregnant women shouldn’t eat raw fish. With quick movements, she took off her coat and shoes and walked past the man without looking at him, mumbling something about not being hungry. Then she entered the bedroom and shut the door, letting herself collapse onto the bed. Instinctively, she placed a hand on her stomach and closed her eyes. She knew very well she was behaving foolishly and childishly, that she should face the situation like the adult she was and get this weight off her chest. But she was scared, terrified of how Chishiya might react… They had never discussed having children, but she knew his stance on the matter. Having children was an idea Chishiya had dismissed from a young age, focusing on his professional success. In fact, she had been surprised when he told her he chose pediatric surgery at the hospital, and when she asked him about it, he just shrugged and spoke about the lack of emotional attachment. He was cold and rational, just as he was, but she couldn’t help but feel her skin crawl hearing him talk so analytically and pragmatically about the life or death of his patients. So it was easy for her to dismiss the idea of a future pregnancy as well; it wasn’t her dream either, and as a busy university student, it was easy for her to let go of the idea that had, for a brief moment, taken some vague shape in her mind.

She took a few deep breaths and eventually let herself fall asleep.

On the other side of the door, Chishiya ate the sushi with a carefree attitude to the untrained eye. However, anyone who observed him more closely would see the man tense in his place, his head almost steaming as he thought and reviewed every situation in the last few months that could give him a clue as to what was going on with his girlfriend. Chishiya had noticed something was wrong from the very first day. He didn’t know exactly what the problem was, as there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, but for some reason, he couldn’t silence the voice in the back of his mind that warned him that something was out of place. Maybe it was seeing his girlfriend’s breakfast cup on the table instead of finding it in the sink as usual, maybe it was finding her in bed, deeply asleep, her back turned to him, or maybe it was how she had spent the entire week avoiding looking him in the eyes. That night, Chishiya ate sushi alone, with his thoughts.

Days passed slowly, too slowly for him. He was an analytical person, and not knowing what was happening around him frustrated him immensely. Chishiya leaned back in the break room chair, holding a small, steaming coffee in his hands. He looked at the phone he had taken from his bag, now resting on his thigh, while trying to sort his thoughts. He licked his lips and, biting the inside of his cheek, set the coffee aside: "I’ll be back soon tonight. I’ll bring Chinese food." Sent. He sighed once more. He hoped to resolve the matter that very night.

By the time his shift ended, he still hadn’t received a reply, which made him huff in annoyance. He packed up his things and took a moment to fold his white coat carefully while studying and analyzing what his next steps should be.

When he arrived home, carrying a bag full of food, he was surprised to see the woman lying on the couch in her pajamas.

“You didn’t go to class today either?” His voice sounded harsher and more accusatory than he expected. She didn’t take her eyes off the television.

Chishiya sighed as he took the food from the bag and served it on plates. The room quickly filled with the unmistakable aroma of sesame oil and spices, and if it weren’t for his constant state of alertness, he might have missed how Y/N rushed out of the couch, running to the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind her. The man stayed silent and still while holding the container of noodles in his hand. He didn’t need to sharpen his hearing to hear her vomiting. In one calculated move, he gently placed the food down and tiptoed to the bathroom door. He knocked once. Again. No answer, only gasps and weak groans, followed by dry heaves.

“Y/N…” Chishiya called again.

Then the sound of crying came through the door. The man felt his heart twist, it had never felt so heavy.

“Y/N, open up,” he said in an authoritative voice.

He heard the water running, and after a few seconds, the door unlocked. The girl stepped out, pale as ash, her eyes swollen from crying. She passed by him without acknowledging his presence and walked tiredly to the bedroom. Chishiya followed her in silence.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” he pressed once more as he sat on the edge of the bed, and she settled in, giving him her back. A pitiful moan escaped her lips, and Chishiya feared she might start crying again.

“Talk to me…” he whispered, watching her back.

The movement was subtle and quick, so much so that no one else would have noticed, but Chishiya, being the observer that he was, clearly saw how the girl placed a hand on her lower stomach only to quickly pull it away as if it had burned her. The last piece of the puzzle he needed to complete.

Chishiya sighed and carefully lay down on the bed. He pressed his back against her chest and gently placed a hand on her hips. The girl’s breathing became erratic, and he felt her tremble in his arms.

“When?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his elbow on the pillow to keep his head elevated and look down at her.

She never really needed words to communicate with Chishiya. Once more, fresh tears slipped down her cheek, her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her, avoiding meeting his eyes.

“A week, right?” He tried to push her, pulling her a little tighter against him.

Y/N had no choice but to turn around. With a deep sigh, trying to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, she turned to face her boyfriend. His relaxed and stoic expression surprised her; that was definitely not the reaction she had expected. They stayed silent for a few moments.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally spoke, trying not to sound accusatory. Chishiya really wanted to know the answer to that question.

“You don’t want kids,” was all she said, her gaze shifting to the buttons on his shirt.

“I never wanted them,” he replied softly after a pause, reflecting to himself. He stayed silent for a few more seconds. “But if I did want them…” he paused, “…I’d want them with you.”

The girl looked up, surprise and disbelief painting her face. Chishiya gave a mocking smile, and with one hand, he smoothed her messy hair, muttering about how stubborn and incredulous she was.

“Did you plan to tell me when the baby was born?” he teased, earning a soft laugh from her.

“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how,” she responded, trying to free herself from his playful hand, which was now messing with her hair. “So… is all of this okay with you?” she asked when he finally moved his hand, gently resting it on her hip.

There was no response for a few seconds, which made the girl wonder if she had really asked the question out loud.

“If it’s okay with you, then we’ll be okay,” he finally replied, never breaking eye contact.

One single tear, this time of relief, slid down her cheek. Chishiya sighed as he wiped it away with his thumb and spoke.

“I think I’m going to have to throw away the Chinese food.”

Y/N laughed once more.

“You’d better, just thinking about its smell makes me want to throw up.”

The man smiled as the girl hid in his chest.

“We’ll have to order something else, you’re not going to skip dinner,” he said as he stroked her hair.

That night, they ordered pizza, with lots of melted cheese, as Y/N requested. When they settled on the couch, together for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt the world begin to spin again. And when she woke up in her bed the next morning, the man was still by her side, eyes closed, tracing carefree patterns on her stomach with his fingertips.

If she had known he was going to react like this, she would have told him much earlier.

© 2025 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

[radsoldier]

You're a bad idea.

Pairing: Cairo Sweet x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary: Cairo is mesmerized by the new, mysterious student sharing a class with her.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: cursing, steamy scene (no smut however) I think that's all?

a/n: i'm sorry if it feels a little rushed? i changed the ending almost four times, also, english is so not my first language. hope you enjoy!

part 2

You hated how everything was changing but still, you felt numb.

You moved to another state, you decided to focus on your writting and suddenly you became a mystery.

Or at least that's how Cairo saw you. And she loved a good mystery more than anything.

More so if the mystery was the new and gorgeous student sharing a class with her.

Yeah, maybe she was getting a little obsessed over someone she had only exchanged a few words with.

She knew very little about you. Your name. The amazing writer you were. The body she only saw once, when you crossed paths in the locker room, you having finished your training with the soccer team, she getting ready for her swimming lessons.

The way you seemed to try to blend in so no one would be able to notice you. But she did. How could she not?

So she found herself, once again, writting about you. The possibilities were endless.

Who were you? Why did you get here halfway through the course?

God, she needed some sleep.

_________

You were late to your first class but you couldn't care less. The creative writting lecturer was really annoying.

You didn't bother knocking on the door and just walked in, getting a few stares from other students AND, obviously, your professor.

"So you decided to finally show up? What an honor" he said.

You chose to ignore him, it was really early in the morning and you didn't have time for coffee before you left home so yes, you felt like shit.

You scanned the room looking for an empty seat somewhere you could just lay low until your eyes landed on Cairo Sweet.

Well, on the spot near her. You walked there and without another word you sat next to her and opened your laptop on your desk, ready to start writting while blocking out your teacher's voice.

You opened your most recent work, knowing full well you didn't have the energy nor the time to finish it right then but you thought you might as well give it a try.

You could feel the burning stare on the side of your head but you decided to ignore it and started typing instead, focusing on your work.

The minutes passed excruciatingly slow and you could feel yourself getting more and more annoyed at the fact that you were unable to focus on the poem you were writing.

"Trouble in paradise?" Cairo asked with a smirk, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You stared at her with no sign of emotion on your face and she felt like you could see clearly every thought she ever had.

"Mind your own bussiness" you retorted.

You saw dissapointment flash across her features before she returned her attention to the stupid lecture and for some reason all you could think about was her smirk, the small dimples on her cheeks and all those freckles.

Fuck, her face was like a sky full of stars.

You tried to focus on your work with little success when Cairo's face haunted your mind.

_________

Class ended and you were the first one to leave, almost as if you were in a rush so when Cairo saw you smoking against a wall near the parking lot she was pleasantly surprised and without thinking it twice, she approached you and snatched the cigarrete from your hand, allowing herself a long drag before looking up at you with that same smirk from before.

You looked at her. Really looked at her. She was gorgeous. Her tiny frame held herself with shameless wonder. You felt like some force was pulling you to her.

"What do you want from me?" you asked.

She laughed and you swear your heart skipped a few beats in that moment.

"That's a great question" she said mischievously "I'm still figuring that out"

Then she stepped closer to you and she placed the cigarrete back in your lips.

"Then find me when you do, Cairo" you said smirking back before turning around and leaving.

She felt confused, she thought she was getting somewhere but she felt like you were always running.

Cairo watched as you started your bike and drove away from the building.

You really needed that coffee now if you wanted to make it to practice later that day.

_________

You were distracted, which earned you a talk from the coach. You scoffed and left the field to sit on the bleachers, as he instructed you.

"Sit back there and cool down, don't want that temper on my team, kid" were his exact words.

You couldn't help it. You either felt numb or mad, there was no in-between.

You watched as the rest of the team finished some drifts and exercises and you joined them, the only answer to your move being a slightly nod from the coach.

Practice finished without further inconvinience but you always decided to run around the field while everybody went home.

You liked the solitude of it.

So you found yourself entering the locker room really late that day. You took off your shirt first thing and then looked around to find no other than Cairo Sweet, her wet hair falling around her shoulders. And she was definitely checking you out.

"Enjoying the view?" you asked raising one eyebrow at her.

"Mhmm" she muttered not looking away from your abs.

You stepped closer to her and that seemed to put her out of her trance and look straight to your face. She was blushing and biting her lower lip.

"I will ask again, Cairo. What do you want?" you took another step closer.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and you lips as she licked hers.

"I want you, Y/N" she said breathless.

And she sounded so sure of it.

Your eyes darkened as she leaned closer to you so she could trace her hand against your jaw.

"So pretty…" she said.

Something inside of you switched and in a swift movement you grabbed her hand above her head and guided her backwards until her back made contact with the locker behind her.

"Fuck" she whimpered.

You leaned so close that she could feel your breath against her mouth.

"That's what you want, Cairo? You want me to fuck you?" you demanded.

"Y-yes" she was breathing hard and you were enjoying every bit.

You released her hand and she placed it on your shoulder, tugging for you to get even closer, while your hand made its way to her collarbone, you traced it slowly and then you placed it on her throat, with just enough force to keep her head in place as you finally closed the gap and smashed your lips agains hers, kissing her hard.

You shivered when you felt her hand tracing down your torso, taking her time around your top to finally rest on your abs.

She moaned when your tongue traced her lower lip, asking for permission which she happily complied.

The sound of a door closing took you both out of your steamy make out session and you felt your body tense when you pulled apart.

"I have to go" you said "Didn't mean to start a fire" you added smirking at her.

And with that you grabbed your things and left her there, speechless and aching for you.